A Templar wandering alone towards Darktown was not a very common sight, and the old man in shining armor acted as something of a beacon as he descended down a suitably dark road. A beacon for those who dwelled in the Undercity, to be specific. Typically, Templars did not dare to travel down so deep into the underbelly of the city, and certainly not alone, and Emeric was currently proving why. He hadn't made it far before a small group of common thugs beset him from behind, four in number, armed with makeshift weaponry, and certainly not warrior-like in their carriage. The first struck him from behind, a blow that took the old Templar to a knee.
It was this sight that Rilien, Sparrow, and Aurora came upon as they hurried after him. The common criminals would no doubt be easy prey for them, if they chose to respond in a wholly violent manner. It may be necessary, as one of the thugs was currently sizing them up, clearly seeing only Sparrow as a potential threat. They were bigger, but simply had no idea what kind of individuals had just come upon them, and so they continued their work of restraining the Templar and forcefully searching him for valuables.
Rilien decided several things upon coming to the scene of the mugging: one, these criminals were entirely amateur. Two, this Templar was incredibly stupid for coming here in the first place. Three: Aurora should probably sit this one out. Given the fact that he and Sparrow both had nonmagical means by which to deal with this problem, it wasn't going to be an issue. Four unseasoned fools were not going to pose them any real threat. Rilien made a peculiar shrugging motion, a bit of sleight-of-hand producing a glass vial with a cork stopper from somewhere in his billowing sleeve. This, he pressed into Aurora's small hand until her fingers closed around it, jerking his head towards the Templar even as he drew his knives.
Clearing his throat just loudly enough to be heard, Rilien made directly for the nearest mugger, the amount of effort needed to draw the sharpened edge of his knife across one carelessly-exposed throat truly pitiful. It had, of course, occurred to him that it was not strictly necessary to kill the criminals, but this was Darktown. If you showed anyone a hint of softness, you'd be hounded by too many ne'er-do-wells for the rest of your days. Besides that, he really didn't much care. The second actually showed some initiative, attempting to use the first as cover for a motion to attack from the side. A Rilien from many years in the past would have rolled his eyes, certainly, and perhaps even sighed dramatically. The person he was now didn't waste the time, disappearing in a puff of smoke only to reappear from behind, both knives stuck in the fellow's back.
Sparrow was sure to be done with the other two in short order as well. He trusted that it was obvious that she shouldn't use her magic, of course. She was far from helpless without it.
Christmas lights exploded in the depths of her eyes, dancing along like thrown confetti, like bright streamers, like children scrambling to open up their presents. There was always something happening in Darktown, whether or not it was a fight to be had, or an unfortunate lesson to be taught. It was alive, and thriving, and free. Fighting was subjectively better than gambling her money away and drinking herself under the table – it was the only thing that required no giving. She always told Rilien that she could smell discord from miles away, and even though she'd remained quiet the entire walk, occasionally throwing quips Aurora's way, Sparrow could've told him that their merry little mission would start, or end this way. She took another breath, letting it out slowly again, feeling more centred, more in control. But, slightly less. Her energies felt different, amalgamated in her core, releasing like poisoned mushroom spores. Like the toxic wastes inhabiting Darktown, corrupting those who were unfortunate enough to cough and wheeze and hack in the alleyways, waiting for poor fops like Emeric to stumble down into them. Serah Templar.
Sparrow didn't need to be told twice – it wouldn't do her any good to allow two Templar's to know what she was, who she was, or where to find her. She offered Aurora a quick wink. Then, she threw herself forward, solely focused on the thug who sized her up earlier. Her flanged maces remained swinging, unsheathed, at her hips. What use were they against petty muggers? She closed the distance, quickly, and spun into a series of gut-busting punches. Small parts, indescribably formed, sifted away, eroded with her dogged focus. Shesmiled. She gripped her talons on her mind, squeezed. She punched and spun and kicked and blocked. Taking their hits and returning them ten-fold, relishing the baritone beats of her heart hammering in her ears. Rilien was precise, methodical in his killings. He wasted no time. Sparrow had always done things the hard way, recovering pieces of her that were best forgotten. If it gained her relief, then she would fight. Pain was temporary. She swayed as the last man fell, bruised, but revitalized, listing her head back, with her eyes closed.
It was only when her eyes opened that she truly felt herself, as if the talons had released, as if she was satisfied by the results. Her mouth pursed, then softened into a rattled frown. “Emeric. Templar Emeric? Are you still breathing?” Sparrow enquired, seeking a response, as she approached. Hopefully, the muggers hadn't just finished him off in the process of dealing with two nosey Elves.
His first response was a cough that had interrupted any words that may have come out. At a glance, anyone could see that he was old for an actively serving Templar, his gray hair growing slightly wispy, his face drawn and tired from years of hard service. After taking a moment to collect himself, he managed to rise. There were no bleeding wounds on him, merely a dozen places that would be extremely sore the next morning from the beating he'd received.
"I am, thanks to you. It's good you came along when you did." He took a moment to take in the slaughtered thugs, who had clearly not understood what they had been getting into, before he looked back to Rilien, Sparrow, and Aurora, who he couldn't be sure was part of the group, or simply a bystander. "I'm not sure it was necessary to kill them, but regardless, I'm in your debt. I am Emeric, Knight Templar." He regarded the Tranquil with some amount of interest, as though he had perhaps heard of him already, but he made no mention of it. "Might I have your names? I could see to it that the Order rewards you for saving my life."
Aurora looked at the vial in her hands and then followed the Tranquil's nod to the Templar. It didn't take a much to get what he was getting at. Sure, they were only bandits, and she could probably handle them easily... If there wasn't a Templar watching over the whole ordeal. She was wary enough about using her magic in front of strangers, using in front of Templars was just stupid. She nodded at Rilien and accepted the vial, and made her way around the oncoming melee. And a quick melee at that, by the time she reached the injured Templar, the two men had finished with the bandits, which gave Sparrow the chance to address the Templar. Aurora herself sighed, feeling a bit useless as she handed the Templar the red vial. "My name? It's Maria." she said nodding, before shooting a glance at Sparrow and Rilien. She wasn't comfortable about giving the name she used to Templars. She was either paranoid or careful. Probably both.
Rilien didn't even flinch when Aurora gave a different name. He assumed that this one was false, though that could easily be true of her first as well. Sparrow had not been born a Sparrow, either, from what he'd gathered. Of much more interest than a birth name was what one chose to call oneself. Naturally, his were one and the same, and he had no fear in saying so, though he doubted the utility of the act. "Rilien." Sparrow merely shrugged her shoulders, offering no name, and no other response beyond a flinty gaze. Surely, the Templar didn't need to know her name. Safety came in the lack of knowledge. It was something Rilien stood strongly for, and what she'd learnt from living with him. She was not as subtle, or graceful, as her companion in the ability to simply disappear. Thankfully, it was Aurora who saved her from Emeric's patient expectance.
"You can reward us now Serah Emeric," Aurora began,"We've come looking for you in order to ask about Ninette. We had heard that you were looking for her as well. If I may be so forward, may I ask why?" she asked.
Emeric gave his thanks as he accepted Aurora's, or Maria's as she would have it, healing potion. After drinking it, he seemed significantly more... well, energetic was not the word for it, since he did not seem the sort to ever be energetic, but more alert. "Ah... Ghyslain de Carrac's wife. Her disappearance interested me, and so I tried looking into it. The investigation, however, has been a waste of time thus far."
He sighed tiredly. "Most people just say she left her husband. Forgive me, I should explain... this all started when Mharen -- one of our Circle mages -- disappeared. I found it odd. She was a bit older and hardly adventurous. Then I heard about Ninette and two other missing women. I think the disappearances are connected, and I suspect foul play is involved."
Rather than simply assume that the Templar was operating on suspicion and inadequate evidence, Rilien pondered the comment for a beat before picking up the obviously-dangling conversational thread. "Why? Their ages may be similar, and their genders, but does anything else link them?" He held his tongue about the flowers for the moment- if Emeric had not come to that conclusion independently, it wouldn't have figured in his suspicions. If he had, he'd mention it with the open question anyway. One thing the Tranquil had learned long ago was never to tip one's hand before it was strictly necessary. If this man went away with the impression that they were looking for Ninette with no more reason than personal inclination, it was certainly of no concern to the elf.
Absently, Rilien flicked his blades to rid them of excess blood, though there wasn't much there. He'd slashed rather than stabbed, for the most part, and they both slid back into their sheaths without a sound or difficulty. He was perhaps fortunate that those like him were occasionally trained as bodyguards as well as merchants, enchanters, and personal assistants. The thought of ever being the latter was mildly replusive to him, but of course the average Tranquil would feel neither here nor there about it.
"The manner in which they disappeared is too similar, I believe. The guards tell me there's no proof they're connected, that these women simply left home, that it happens all the time. But all of them have simply vanished, not a single one leaving evidence behind as to their whereabouts. At first, I was merely tracking down Mharen, or at least attempting to. I had heard there were mage sympathizers in Darktown who sometimes transport mages from the city, and so I thought to bring my search here."
His gaze fell slightly, a tinge of sorrow coloring his voice. "But as you can see, my inquiries have made me unpopular. But I do believe the disappearances are connected. Mharen had received lillies from a suitor a few days before her disappearance. We thought she had perhaps gone to meet him. I then heard that at least one of the other missing women also received flowers before disappearing. We tracked Mharen's phylactery to a foundry in Lowtown, but it proved to be a dead end."
He shrugged tiredly, looking dejected. "You may investigate if you wish. Perhaps you can find something I could not. I need to give up this investigation. I'm getting too old to being doing this kind of work."
Sparrow took a backseat to the conversation, idling on the sidelines. She had to admit that Aurora had an uncanny, much appreciated ability to gain information in gentler ways. As a person made of rough hands, callous words, and frothing emotions, it wasn't difficult to see that there were different, much more prudent ways of handling situations. She licked her lips, and absently wiped her bloody knuckles on the back of her sleeves, smearing the fabric. She'd clean it later, when it was convenient. She didn't even bat an eye when Aurora offered an alternate alias – for she was Sparrow, as much as Aurora was any other name she chose to give to anyone she didn't trust. For vastly different reasons, all the other parts of her, along with her feminine name, died in the woods, tucked against moss and twisted vines. She listened, intently. If the Templar could give them any leads, then perhaps they could actually find Ghyslain's wife, Ninette. Perhaps, then, they could right a small, significant wrong. “A killer of women?” She mouthed softly, as if she were chewing bitter herbs. Her inclination towards men hadn't changed, hadn't been salved or calmed by reason or experience. Her shadows were far too long, strung up like gloomy curtains on her windows. It might've been the extra inhabitant chewing at her thoughts, dragging her fingers across her spine, but she still hated them. She still blamed them.
The information was disheartening. No longer were they chasing a woman who'd willingly ran from her bastard husband, but now they were facing a possible, if not probable, homicide. A particular killing focused on an innocent, soft-skinned individual. Her eyes immediately sought Rilien out, attempting to steal some sort of secret sign that he was piecing everything together while they spoke to the Templar, or at least something that would give her peace of mind. If this wasn't just a case of a missing person, then it might turn into something much more grave. Something similar to hunting apostates, blood mages, demons and sickly cultists. The measly hope that these seemingly unconnected murders were just that were violently quashed, buried into the back of someone's heel when the Templar mentioned lilies – flowers, flowers, flowers. This wouldn't be an easy job. This wouldn't be anything like they thought they'd been walking into. “We'll do just that. Might'n be better for your health if you find some place to rest, and avoid any treks down here.” She implored, gesturing wide towards the alleyways. As if remembering her manners, Sparrow tipped her head and mumbled a curt, “Thank you, Serah Emeric.”
It was this sight that Rilien, Sparrow, and Aurora came upon as they hurried after him. The common criminals would no doubt be easy prey for them, if they chose to respond in a wholly violent manner. It may be necessary, as one of the thugs was currently sizing them up, clearly seeing only Sparrow as a potential threat. They were bigger, but simply had no idea what kind of individuals had just come upon them, and so they continued their work of restraining the Templar and forcefully searching him for valuables.
Rilien decided several things upon coming to the scene of the mugging: one, these criminals were entirely amateur. Two, this Templar was incredibly stupid for coming here in the first place. Three: Aurora should probably sit this one out. Given the fact that he and Sparrow both had nonmagical means by which to deal with this problem, it wasn't going to be an issue. Four unseasoned fools were not going to pose them any real threat. Rilien made a peculiar shrugging motion, a bit of sleight-of-hand producing a glass vial with a cork stopper from somewhere in his billowing sleeve. This, he pressed into Aurora's small hand until her fingers closed around it, jerking his head towards the Templar even as he drew his knives.
Clearing his throat just loudly enough to be heard, Rilien made directly for the nearest mugger, the amount of effort needed to draw the sharpened edge of his knife across one carelessly-exposed throat truly pitiful. It had, of course, occurred to him that it was not strictly necessary to kill the criminals, but this was Darktown. If you showed anyone a hint of softness, you'd be hounded by too many ne'er-do-wells for the rest of your days. Besides that, he really didn't much care. The second actually showed some initiative, attempting to use the first as cover for a motion to attack from the side. A Rilien from many years in the past would have rolled his eyes, certainly, and perhaps even sighed dramatically. The person he was now didn't waste the time, disappearing in a puff of smoke only to reappear from behind, both knives stuck in the fellow's back.
Sparrow was sure to be done with the other two in short order as well. He trusted that it was obvious that she shouldn't use her magic, of course. She was far from helpless without it.
Christmas lights exploded in the depths of her eyes, dancing along like thrown confetti, like bright streamers, like children scrambling to open up their presents. There was always something happening in Darktown, whether or not it was a fight to be had, or an unfortunate lesson to be taught. It was alive, and thriving, and free. Fighting was subjectively better than gambling her money away and drinking herself under the table – it was the only thing that required no giving. She always told Rilien that she could smell discord from miles away, and even though she'd remained quiet the entire walk, occasionally throwing quips Aurora's way, Sparrow could've told him that their merry little mission would start, or end this way. She took another breath, letting it out slowly again, feeling more centred, more in control. But, slightly less. Her energies felt different, amalgamated in her core, releasing like poisoned mushroom spores. Like the toxic wastes inhabiting Darktown, corrupting those who were unfortunate enough to cough and wheeze and hack in the alleyways, waiting for poor fops like Emeric to stumble down into them. Serah Templar.
Sparrow didn't need to be told twice – it wouldn't do her any good to allow two Templar's to know what she was, who she was, or where to find her. She offered Aurora a quick wink. Then, she threw herself forward, solely focused on the thug who sized her up earlier. Her flanged maces remained swinging, unsheathed, at her hips. What use were they against petty muggers? She closed the distance, quickly, and spun into a series of gut-busting punches. Small parts, indescribably formed, sifted away, eroded with her dogged focus. Shesmiled. She gripped her talons on her mind, squeezed. She punched and spun and kicked and blocked. Taking their hits and returning them ten-fold, relishing the baritone beats of her heart hammering in her ears. Rilien was precise, methodical in his killings. He wasted no time. Sparrow had always done things the hard way, recovering pieces of her that were best forgotten. If it gained her relief, then she would fight. Pain was temporary. She swayed as the last man fell, bruised, but revitalized, listing her head back, with her eyes closed.
It was only when her eyes opened that she truly felt herself, as if the talons had released, as if she was satisfied by the results. Her mouth pursed, then softened into a rattled frown. “Emeric. Templar Emeric? Are you still breathing?” Sparrow enquired, seeking a response, as she approached. Hopefully, the muggers hadn't just finished him off in the process of dealing with two nosey Elves.
His first response was a cough that had interrupted any words that may have come out. At a glance, anyone could see that he was old for an actively serving Templar, his gray hair growing slightly wispy, his face drawn and tired from years of hard service. After taking a moment to collect himself, he managed to rise. There were no bleeding wounds on him, merely a dozen places that would be extremely sore the next morning from the beating he'd received.
"I am, thanks to you. It's good you came along when you did." He took a moment to take in the slaughtered thugs, who had clearly not understood what they had been getting into, before he looked back to Rilien, Sparrow, and Aurora, who he couldn't be sure was part of the group, or simply a bystander. "I'm not sure it was necessary to kill them, but regardless, I'm in your debt. I am Emeric, Knight Templar." He regarded the Tranquil with some amount of interest, as though he had perhaps heard of him already, but he made no mention of it. "Might I have your names? I could see to it that the Order rewards you for saving my life."
Aurora looked at the vial in her hands and then followed the Tranquil's nod to the Templar. It didn't take a much to get what he was getting at. Sure, they were only bandits, and she could probably handle them easily... If there wasn't a Templar watching over the whole ordeal. She was wary enough about using her magic in front of strangers, using in front of Templars was just stupid. She nodded at Rilien and accepted the vial, and made her way around the oncoming melee. And a quick melee at that, by the time she reached the injured Templar, the two men had finished with the bandits, which gave Sparrow the chance to address the Templar. Aurora herself sighed, feeling a bit useless as she handed the Templar the red vial. "My name? It's Maria." she said nodding, before shooting a glance at Sparrow and Rilien. She wasn't comfortable about giving the name she used to Templars. She was either paranoid or careful. Probably both.
Rilien didn't even flinch when Aurora gave a different name. He assumed that this one was false, though that could easily be true of her first as well. Sparrow had not been born a Sparrow, either, from what he'd gathered. Of much more interest than a birth name was what one chose to call oneself. Naturally, his were one and the same, and he had no fear in saying so, though he doubted the utility of the act. "Rilien." Sparrow merely shrugged her shoulders, offering no name, and no other response beyond a flinty gaze. Surely, the Templar didn't need to know her name. Safety came in the lack of knowledge. It was something Rilien stood strongly for, and what she'd learnt from living with him. She was not as subtle, or graceful, as her companion in the ability to simply disappear. Thankfully, it was Aurora who saved her from Emeric's patient expectance.
"You can reward us now Serah Emeric," Aurora began,"We've come looking for you in order to ask about Ninette. We had heard that you were looking for her as well. If I may be so forward, may I ask why?" she asked.
Emeric gave his thanks as he accepted Aurora's, or Maria's as she would have it, healing potion. After drinking it, he seemed significantly more... well, energetic was not the word for it, since he did not seem the sort to ever be energetic, but more alert. "Ah... Ghyslain de Carrac's wife. Her disappearance interested me, and so I tried looking into it. The investigation, however, has been a waste of time thus far."
He sighed tiredly. "Most people just say she left her husband. Forgive me, I should explain... this all started when Mharen -- one of our Circle mages -- disappeared. I found it odd. She was a bit older and hardly adventurous. Then I heard about Ninette and two other missing women. I think the disappearances are connected, and I suspect foul play is involved."
Rather than simply assume that the Templar was operating on suspicion and inadequate evidence, Rilien pondered the comment for a beat before picking up the obviously-dangling conversational thread. "Why? Their ages may be similar, and their genders, but does anything else link them?" He held his tongue about the flowers for the moment- if Emeric had not come to that conclusion independently, it wouldn't have figured in his suspicions. If he had, he'd mention it with the open question anyway. One thing the Tranquil had learned long ago was never to tip one's hand before it was strictly necessary. If this man went away with the impression that they were looking for Ninette with no more reason than personal inclination, it was certainly of no concern to the elf.
Absently, Rilien flicked his blades to rid them of excess blood, though there wasn't much there. He'd slashed rather than stabbed, for the most part, and they both slid back into their sheaths without a sound or difficulty. He was perhaps fortunate that those like him were occasionally trained as bodyguards as well as merchants, enchanters, and personal assistants. The thought of ever being the latter was mildly replusive to him, but of course the average Tranquil would feel neither here nor there about it.
"The manner in which they disappeared is too similar, I believe. The guards tell me there's no proof they're connected, that these women simply left home, that it happens all the time. But all of them have simply vanished, not a single one leaving evidence behind as to their whereabouts. At first, I was merely tracking down Mharen, or at least attempting to. I had heard there were mage sympathizers in Darktown who sometimes transport mages from the city, and so I thought to bring my search here."
His gaze fell slightly, a tinge of sorrow coloring his voice. "But as you can see, my inquiries have made me unpopular. But I do believe the disappearances are connected. Mharen had received lillies from a suitor a few days before her disappearance. We thought she had perhaps gone to meet him. I then heard that at least one of the other missing women also received flowers before disappearing. We tracked Mharen's phylactery to a foundry in Lowtown, but it proved to be a dead end."
He shrugged tiredly, looking dejected. "You may investigate if you wish. Perhaps you can find something I could not. I need to give up this investigation. I'm getting too old to being doing this kind of work."
Sparrow took a backseat to the conversation, idling on the sidelines. She had to admit that Aurora had an uncanny, much appreciated ability to gain information in gentler ways. As a person made of rough hands, callous words, and frothing emotions, it wasn't difficult to see that there were different, much more prudent ways of handling situations. She licked her lips, and absently wiped her bloody knuckles on the back of her sleeves, smearing the fabric. She'd clean it later, when it was convenient. She didn't even bat an eye when Aurora offered an alternate alias – for she was Sparrow, as much as Aurora was any other name she chose to give to anyone she didn't trust. For vastly different reasons, all the other parts of her, along with her feminine name, died in the woods, tucked against moss and twisted vines. She listened, intently. If the Templar could give them any leads, then perhaps they could actually find Ghyslain's wife, Ninette. Perhaps, then, they could right a small, significant wrong. “A killer of women?” She mouthed softly, as if she were chewing bitter herbs. Her inclination towards men hadn't changed, hadn't been salved or calmed by reason or experience. Her shadows were far too long, strung up like gloomy curtains on her windows. It might've been the extra inhabitant chewing at her thoughts, dragging her fingers across her spine, but she still hated them. She still blamed them.
The information was disheartening. No longer were they chasing a woman who'd willingly ran from her bastard husband, but now they were facing a possible, if not probable, homicide. A particular killing focused on an innocent, soft-skinned individual. Her eyes immediately sought Rilien out, attempting to steal some sort of secret sign that he was piecing everything together while they spoke to the Templar, or at least something that would give her peace of mind. If this wasn't just a case of a missing person, then it might turn into something much more grave. Something similar to hunting apostates, blood mages, demons and sickly cultists. The measly hope that these seemingly unconnected murders were just that were violently quashed, buried into the back of someone's heel when the Templar mentioned lilies – flowers, flowers, flowers. This wouldn't be an easy job. This wouldn't be anything like they thought they'd been walking into. “We'll do just that. Might'n be better for your health if you find some place to rest, and avoid any treks down here.” She implored, gesturing wide towards the alleyways. As if remembering her manners, Sparrow tipped her head and mumbled a curt, “Thank you, Serah Emeric.”