Latter the Whittler's Story

Latter sat plump in the back alley. The floor was dirty and covered in excrements that filled his nose with putrid, and so another night he went sleepless because where his life had left him. Lifting carefully to only touch the dry parts of the ground, Latter carefully tread his way out of the space between buildings; the buildings that seemed average to humans towered over the Irah, him not even being tall among his own people. As he came out to the still and slumbering mass that is Ethany, he looked at the beautiful morn sky, and how he did love the crisp, thin air in what he preferred to simply call the early. He thought to myself how the early always saved him from feeling despair. Life is never all bad, there is always a silver lining, and a slight smirk came across his face as he patted dirt off his clothes that once were a fine make.

Suddenly, out of the keeness of his ear, he heard a strange voice speek.

"Look at that! A ranger, in the capital?..."

Oh how Latter loathed rangers and loved people who opposed them. He quickly and silently rounded a corner and saw two men, a ranger with a drawn bow and a man with a drawn sword. What a shit! No one has reflexes faster than an arrow!, but then Latter had an idea. Without making a noise, he snuck right up to the ranger, knowing that since they are focused it would be more than easy to get close, and looked for salvage from the easy target and fool of a ranger. Then, when the sun hit it right, a gleaming Saxe knife, and Latter and decided then. With expert precision he slowly slid the Saxe knife out of the sheathe, and then he looked up for results.

" You tried to eat Eluard, and you also said something about my young meat being more..."

What a wretched soul, yuk, but success!

Latter ran off with an unnatural lack of noise, knowing the two men would not notice, and did not stop to inspect his prize until he was a good distance away. However, out of the darkness, a man ran out and snatched the knife, but Latter was no child as the man thought and his reputation of a person that could hold his own. From Latter's hand, fire jutted out at the man's mid-sprint feet and curved up like a striking snake, and it began to spin, forming a shell around the man. He did not stop there, and he rose the spinning inferno a hundred feet in the air before it dissipated, rising well over the buildings.

When the fire finally disappeared, the thief laid untouched but shook up, and Latter simply walked up took the knife out of the man's scared and petrified fingers.

"You're not quite a master thief yet, but you're getting warmer," Latter said chuckling ah e walked away. But then he cursed under his breathe, that kind of show was noticeable from afar. Latter began his down into the deeps of the city with his prize in hand once more.

Latter walked about ten steps into the deeper part of the city before his knees buckled beneath him, and he suddenly felt his body drained. Falling to the floor, he cut himself on the acute sharpness of his new knife, and he cursed himself at his new predicament. Now he was too tired to run away, obviously in the need to get away from that display, and no doubt the ranger was intelligent enough to notice something he trained with simply gone. So, knowing the deductive power of the rangers, even the obviously young and novice ones, Latter had to hide, and now Latter basically said Hey Mr.Ranger! Come execute me!. Latter, sitting like a duck ripe for the taking, waited and prayed; prayed less for the reason of not getting caught and praying more from the reason of wanting mercy when he got caught.

"Damn spells and damn the energy they require! Most of all, damn you little legs! Damn you most of all!"

Latter waited.

Stephen Kane lowered his bow and put his arrow back in his quiver, when Kant lowered his sword. "No, I don't have any food. I was actually coming here because this appears to be a..." His voice trailed off and he was aware of a sudden lightness around his waist, one that had been there for about a week, and went away today. It was an uncomfortable lightness. His Saxe knife was missing. Seph whirled around, his cloak flapping around him, just in time to see a plume of fire jut out of a nearby alley. He turned to look at Kant, then turned his head back into the alley. Well, Kant hadn't committed a crime in the city, and what he had against the man was a personal grudge, but duty came first and he had to inspect the fire. He hurried off, his light feet hardly making a sound and his cloak trailing behind him.
"... Damn you most of all!" He heard, and right as he turned into the alley, he saw a young Elf, no a Tellem, laying on the floor. As Seph took in the sight, something glinted, catching Seph's eye. He saw his Saxe knife, and there was blood on the edge.

"Furcifer!" Seph exclaimed in the Ancient Tongue. He approached the Tellem, shaking his head. Honestly... He thought. "You must not be too bright, thinking you can steal from a Ranger and not get caught. If you need a knife, boy, steal from a butcher or a town guard."

Latter was sure now. He was dead.

He looked up at the Ranger, strangely more intimidating now that he was being towered over by him, and he thought heard the man make a remark about stealing from a butcher or some none-sense; Latter was exhausted and, since he thought he was going to die anyways, did not care to listen to his cracks at his skills. Maybe he was right, thought Latter, I really should have been more intelligent than to let shiny things take my fancy, or to simply use a less ostentatious spell. He strained his weary brain for a way out, any way, and to just survive punishment. Desperate and rather wanting his head attached very much attached to his body, he decided graveling would flatter him.

"I will ma-... make you a deal." By the God he was tired!

"I will follow you as a... a... squire? Servant? What the ever you rangers want. Please, my merciful, uh, highly worship worthy? I guess. Just do not kill me. I will pay you for the crime I have done in... in... in... service."

Latter's head drooped and his eyes became hazy, and no doubt he would pass out soon.

"Please, m-master, I do not want to wake up dead..."

Kant watched with barely concealed amusement as the ranger ran after the would-be thief, biting back a snicker. He had to see how this was going to play out. He trotted after the ranger slowly, despite Damien's warnings.

He was going to let you go! Now you're chasing him? What the hell is wrong with you?! The voice raged in his head, unable to contain it's anger at his stupidity. He definitely could hear a sigh in his head, resigned to just watch it through as Damien had no choice in the matter.

"Lots," Kant commented sarcastically, rounding the corner just in time to hear what the little thief was saying. A squire? A servant? That would be very interesting. He lifted his blade up smoothly, taking a rather relaxed posed with it in one hand. He whistled at the two to get their attention, pointing the rather large blade at Stephen.

"Deal, little guy. I'll save your arse from the big bad ranger in return for your eternal servitude," He said, his wolfish grin even more menacing now.

"Ready to dance?"

Stephen Kane raised an eyebrow at Latter. Seph was not cruel, he had no plans to kill the Tellem. Before he started begging for his life, Seph might have had a little respect for him. He was good enough to take something from him without Seph noticing right away. Not a lot of people have that skill. "I have no need for a sla-"

"Deal, little guy. I'll save your arse from the big bad ranger in return for your eternal servitude," The man with the bastard sword said, showing him a toothy malevolent grin. "Ready to dance?"

Quickly thinking, Stephen pulled out his only explosive arrow from his quiver, strung it, and aimed for the sky. "You take one step towards us, and this arrow flies up and boom I signal the whole city guard onto this block." He said. He squinted at the One-Eyed Crow, knowing if he did shoot that arrow, it would be at least ten minutes before any guards got here, maybe twenty until enough to overpower him would be here. The alley was too small for archery, so if he shot his arrow he'd have to drop the bow right after and draw his knives, and defend himself against the bastard sword. It wouldn't be impossible, in fact he'd trained for situations like this before, but it wouldn't be fun. He looked sideways at the Tellem. "Don't move and you won't be in trouble." He said, then looked back to Kant, waiting for his move.

The last of consciousness was leaving Latter when he saw the scene being played out in front of him.

The cannibal? He thought it would be easier to escape or sneak away from the shirtless man, but how could he sleep. One minute he would be laying down to take a nice nap, then next thing you know he would be slow roasting above a fire; either way he did not want to be alone at the least with the man. However, he did not know if he could take going back to a life of law and serve under a good doer, and he really wanted that knife. Either way, he would not be able to be awake for the ending to this chapter, exhaustion was finally taking him, but that was concerning considering he just thought of the whole 'roasting over a fire thing'.

"Whoever wins, better be willing to carry me." Latter slumped over in a light sleep, in fact more of a heavy daze.

"Go ahead then, ranger. We both know it'll take them a while to get here. Plenty of time to beat you, grab the little guy, and scram," Kant said, his red eye flashing maliciously at Stephen. He was fully aware that it would take them time to get here, and that they would have trouble ganging up on him in such a small alley. Even if they did arrive sooner than anticipated, they'd still have to come at him individually or in pairs. He knew he could handle that, at least for a little while.

Still. Better safe than sorry.

"Aye," Kant acceded, lowing his sword to his left palm. He cut deep enough to draw a good amount of blood, but not so deep as to ruin his control with that hand, before returning to a ready stance. He inhaled deeply, tensing his muscles, and then charged. He threw his bloody left hand out, a streak of jagged blood controlled by his magic flying towards the explosive arrow with Kant right behind it.

Stephen Kane watched helplessly as the One-Eyed Crow sliced open his palm, and scarlet blood welled up from inside. He barely had time to think on what had happened when the man charged. It would take about five full seconds to close the gap between them, and right as he took a step towards him, Seph changed his aim, and let an arrow fly.

He had shot an explosive arrow at the center point of a wall next to them, about three feet away from them both, Kant on one side of the explosion, Seph on the other. The explosion wasn't a fireball, but instead crumpled the wall, throwing chunks of stone, and leaving a cloud of dust in the air. The concussive force of the blast wave staggered Seph back a few feet, and he fell on his backside. His ears rang from the resounding bang that now echoed throughout the nearby Avasete Mountains.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang...

Then, Stephen sprung to his feet. He would probably recover a slight bit faster than Kant, because he expected the blast, and the One-Eyed Crow would have been taken by surprise, but he couldn't see the man through the cloud of light brown dust that floated in the alley like fog. He slung his bow over his back, sticking his arm between the bow and the bowstring, and moving it over his head so that the actual bow was on his back and the bowstring went diagonal across his chest.

He looked down at the Tellem, laying there unconscious. Sighing, he slipped his arms under the Tellem, and lifted him. He was not extremely heavy so Seph could carry him well, and he weighed a bit less than Seph, but still holding him would slow him down quite a bit. Without looking back, Seph ran to the opposite side of the alley as they had all entered and burst out into the street. The sun was now visible in the horizon, and there were a few people on the street. Good. Maybe that would make the One-Eyed Crow not follow him.

The ranger's plan was rather brilliant, especially considering how fast he thought of it under pressure. It seemed to hinge on one central pillar, however, which ultimately brought Stephen's entire plan crashing down just like the wall. That pillar would be Kant's reaction. It all hinged on Kant having what is commonly referred to as a self-preservation instinct. This would cause the crashing wall to cause him to hesitate, and the surrounding people would make him give up the chase entirely.

Kant didn't really have that, though.

His crimson eye glowed briefly in the dust cloud before his form appeared, leaping out of the ruins of the wall as he continued to chase after Stephen and the would-be thief. His mind barely registered the fact that there were other people around, his body a well trained blur as he lunged after the ranger with his bastard sword slashing down from above at him. He didn't even care about the thief at this point. He'd cut them both in half.

Latter was falling in and out of a fuzzy world when before he gained consciousness again. The last thing he remembered before falling into his hazy state was where a battle was about to break out from two people he was going to steal from, What a morning!, but then his world went into a blur. The next time he opened his eyes all he caught an image of flying mortar from buildings and a dazed cannibal that was just as confused as him, yet he seemed to lose his hold on the world while going in an upward movement, although he did not see how that was possible. When he finally opened up his eyes for what he thought was for good, he saw that he was in the arms of the ranger flying down a street, into a crowd and away from smoke; he looked down at the blur of moving ground and the swift, long feet striking the ground to bring them onwards. Damn you tiny feet! You will never be that good! Latter lifted his drowsy and droopy head to look over the ranger's shoulder, and then terror went down his spine as he saw the cannibal lunging at their back with a sword. Latter reacted the only way he could think of.

"Retusum." He said the spell words with a sluggish flick of his chin. The spell was commonly known as simply blunt.

As if he had ran his head into an invisible wall, a thud sounded out as the cannibal snapped his head back, taking a blow to the forehead, and his feet kept going while his head lurched back, eventually causing him to fall on his arse. Latter smiled at the scene, but he had used magic to a dangerous magic, although a week spell that would not have been as effective if not for the cannibal's momentum, used more so people think they ran into an invisible force. All the energy he had left was gone, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as darkness took him for sleep. His last thought was The ranger will probably think he tripped, so Latter blacked out smiling.

Kant! Sanguinis Sagitta! The voice in his head yelled, the tone much more urgent than it had been before. All sarcasm had left it's words, and Kant knew what that meant. His body had been ruthlessly trained by that voice, and he didn't even need to consider acting on its words. His body merely did as it was told to.

"SANGUINIS SAGITTA!" Kant barked, the words of power forcing the blood flowing from his palm to shoot forward in the fashion of an arrow. The force he put into the spell stopped him in midair and even pushed him back a bit. He managed to land deftly on his feet, barely stopping himself before he collapsed. The arrow flew forward before shattering against an invisible wall, at which point Kant knew why the voice had warned him.

Still, his palm stung and his body felt a bit lighter from the blood that had been drained from him. He doubted he had much more blood magic usage in him, or any magic at all for that matter. He'd settle this solely with the sword if he could.

Stephen Kane was running down the center of the street, people parting way for him, and he would hope that he could outrun The One-Eyed Crow due to having a smaller body. He probably would have too, if he weren't carrying the Whittler.
"Retusum." He heard Latter mumble. He recognized the word to be of the Ancient Tongue. So Latter was a mage! That explained the fire earlier. He looked down at the Tellem as he was running, but before he could open his mouth to say a word, the Tellem had fallen back out of consciousness, and he heard a loud crash behind him like the sound of broken glass. He looked over his shoulder as he was running, to see Kant collapse and shards of tiny red crystals in the air all around him, dropping like pellets of sand.
"Blood Mage!" Cried an onlooker.
"Heretic!" Shouted another.
Seph got the feeling that an angry mob would form around Kant, if they weren't afraid of his magic, so instead they kept their distance and hurled insults. Seph had not quit running, however, and kept his pace for many blocks.

Thirty minutes had passed since he'd last seen the Blood Mage, and Seph finally was able to rest. He'd made it to an inn where he could let the Tellem rest until he regained consciousness. After paying the innkeeper some gold, he laid Latter down on a bed, and he sat in a chair in the corner of the room, going completely still and silent. There he hung in the darkness of the dim room until the Tellem would awaken.

Stephen Kane had sat in the room for another half hour. The blood mage had still not shown up, and the Tellem had still not awaken. Sighing, he left the room and went down the stairs into the main room to get a meal. He looked around the room, noting a middle aged man eating meat and potatoes. He sat in a nearby table and the innkeeper quickly hurried over to him nervously.
"What would you like to eat, my lord?" He asked Seph. As a Ranger, Seph was used to being called by "Sir" or "My lord" even though he was not of nobility. At first it had bothered him, but he had learned to ignore it. Seph ordered venison steak and a glass of goat milk. He waited for his mean then, the cowl of his green cloak pulled up, the shadows hiding his face, and bow strung across his back.

Latter shot up from the bed with such force that he found himself on the floor, and he inspected his body all over, sighing relief and thanking any god he could come up with that he was not being sauteed over a skillet to be eaten by the freak. As he scanned his surroundings, he found he was not in a jail cell either, queer, and he found no ranger, and he thanked the gods even more feverishly for his luck, he could easily slip away. Finding his way to the door with a peppy swagger, he found the stairs and progressed down silently, and as he peeked his head around the corner he saw the ranger distracted, limiting his field of vision, making for an easy, almost juvenile, escape. What a fortuitous change, if I do say! However, with his next step, he felt himself lose control of his legs, no doubt an after-shock from completely draining his aura, and his knees buckled right from under him. In an awkward and comical fashion, he fell face first down right in front of where the ranger was ordering his breaking of fast, and Latter laid in a heap before him, looking up with a kind smile, almost embarrassed, as to play it off.

"I came to... uh... get your... Drink! I came to get your drink, um, master?" Latter tried his best to sound convincing, but that would be hard considering he still could not feel his legs.

Stephen Kane raised an eyebrow as the Tellem tumbled down the stairs and landed promptly in a messy heap in front of him. He sighed, blowing air between his teeth, and shook his head at the Tellem's excuse.

"You don't need to try to escape from me, you should know." Seph said to him. "I'm not planning on turning you in. You stole something from me, and even though I noticed, that's commendable." He pondered on whether he should mention that he might have plans to take Latter on as his apprentice, even though the short elf was probably too old. He shrugged, if he could make a good Ranger, then age didn't matter as much. "Anyways, what would you like to eat? After break, you're coming with me t-"

Just then the door to the inn flew open. A city guard stood in the doorway, and behind him a line of guardsmen could be seen marching down the road. The guard barked at the inn's inhabitants; "Everyone! Be at the City Plaza in the next two hours! King Threllen Greyford II will be speaking to the crow-" He stopped yelling immediately upon spotting Seph, a Ranger. "M-m-my apologies, Sire." He stuttered. "I didn't realize you were in here, nor do I wish to issue orders to you, but all Rangers in the city limits are expected to be there to guard the king."

Seph sighed. "We'll be there. Go along." The guard left the inn and Seph turned to Latter. "Well? What do you want to eat? Let's make it quick, we should leave in the next thirty minutes."

Latter sighed a breath of relief, he had played it off, although he saw through it, but his body tensed up at the site of the guard. He had hated town-guard; he hated them for every friend they beat to death, every time they foiled his plan and he went hungry, and for how they always did it with a smile. Now with a grimace in the inside but still a smile on the outside, he thought on what he wanted to eat, but in all honestly, he was not hungry. He knew he should be, having completely draining himself dealing with that creep, but he just was not and frankly did not feel like eating. No doubt it was all the times he had gone hungry, living on the streets, and surprisingly when he was used to being hungry is when he longed for his old life the most.

“Nothing, if that may please you master. I do not seem to be able to stomach a breaking of fast.” spoke Latter as politely as he could, but he still mixed in a bit of dissentful sarcasm at the end. He did not want to be a ranger’s servant, he had never been anyone’s servant for owning his own shop and all, but he figured square meals until he could slip or build up enough pay for a new shop could not hurt. An honest job could do for a while.

He just realized the actual words of the guard, his hatred temporarily blinding him, and he whipped his head around in shock. He began to speak in a gasp.

“Did you just say protect the king? As in he is under attack… in the capital… here?”

Latter turned to the ranger in shock with his jaw dropped, and thought that he was pretty nonchalant when the king was under attack. Latter stopped himself however, realizing that he did not even like the human king, for he did nothing as Latter watched his shop burn to the ground in great flames. Latter resisted the urge, like a gravitational pull, to fall into one of his terrible flashbacks, so he quickly took his master’s drink and took a sip to put his mind on other things. He looked up at the ranger and gave an awkward sorry smile, and spoke rather carefully this time.

“Shall we be going, we would not want harm to come to the king. First I have to pack… done!” He lifted his arms as in he was giving a finale to a long search, but he did notice he was unarmed while the ranger hopefully did not know he was a mage of sorts. He would try not to use magic in front of him, but he may have to like before.

“May I have a weapon master?” he said as he eyed the knife that had gotten him in the conversation. He knew that they were probably just guarding him from the crowds, but there was no reason to not make it dire, he may have a better chance at the knife.