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Snippet #2741332

located in Cre' Est, a part of Assassin's Pledge: Devastation, one of the many universes on RPG.

Cre' Est

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Regene "Jeanne" Rhamnus Character Portrait: Quinn Xe' Duzelle Character Portrait: Marcus Keller
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A chill ran up Jeanneā€™s spine as her ears picked up Quinnā€™s cold words.

ā€œYou knew they were after you.ā€

Her movement slowed with every step she took. Her heartbeat picked up in pace, thumping against her chest like the war drums of a pursuing army. ā€Quinn, Iā€¦,ā€ The thief girl racked her brain for a response, already feeling the blondeā€™s ice cold gaze without having to look. In that brief moment, her voice rose in pitch and lacked the distinctive accent she had been using before. Jeanneā€™s heart beat even faster than before, her pupils shrunk and quivered, her lips parted, but she could find no words to impart. No sweet talks, no lies, no excuses. The thief girl shut her eyes tight, as the sound of thunder rang through the alleyway.

A few seconds passed. Jeanne expected to hear a thud. Or two. But when she opened her eyes, she saw Quinn standing ahead, bloody and disheveled, while her and Marcus remained unharmed. Jeanne could feel another lump on her throat, and a wet sensation welling on her eyes. That face. Jeanne couldnā€™t take her eyes off it.There was no red-hot rage, or tearful despair, only aā€¦ hollow, lifeless look which drained all heat from Jeanneā€™s core. After a moment too long, the jester managed to utter a meaningless word in response. ā€Quinnā€¦ā€

That tingle of guilt resurfaced within her, piercing at her chest like a needle, as she turned her back upon the blonde, hung her head, then dashed away with Marcus on their separate ways. A long moment of silence ensued as the two thieves hopped over barrel shards, slid under broken archways, and slipped across alley walls like rats within a maze.

The luster within Jeanneā€™s jewel-like eyes faded, as she stared, unfocused, upon the brick street. Every footstep they made felt deafening within the silence. She turned her head the slightest bit to Marcus, unable, or unwilling, to even meet his eyes. ā€Soā€¦ Pardenaire, what now?ā€ Her companion merely stared ahead, his face appearing paler than it usually was, and his typically stoic gaze had softened.

ā€œ...We need to get back to the Rose and Curd,ā€ he replied. ā€œWe need to get those documents, and get the hell out of here likeā€¦ like Quinn said. After that, wellā€¦ weā€™ll figure something out.ā€ Marcus briefly wondered if retrieving their esoteric loot would even be worth it, but then again Teā€™i Sai would likely keep hounding them anyway. Jeanne gave a slow nod, and remained silent as they made their way to the tavern.

ā€There goes my plans for the pretty dresses and perfumesā€¦,ā€ Jeanne remarked with a bitter smile, as the two tossed their belongings into their backpacks. Pots, pans, a ledger, various mechanical gizmos and whirring knick-knacks which Jeanne tinkered with in her spare time. Meanwhile, Marcus found the papers which got them into this mess in the first place, hidden within the 108th page of their ledger. The amber glow of the oil lamps and the hearty cheers of drunken Creā€™Estians partying below could not soothe the two thievesā€™ fearstruck hearts, like it had for several nights before. Try as they might, they could not ward away the thoughts of Quinn and Marcelā€™s potential fate. Would the assassins give them a quick death, at least? Or will they torture them first? Or worse, in Quinnā€™s case?

The jester let out a long sigh. ā€Weā€™ll need to go down. Deep below,ā€ she said, in a voice once again lacking her usual accent or marginally deeper pitch. ā€Back to the Creā€™Est underground. Thereā€™s bound to be tunnels there that smugglers use to ship off their ill-gotten goods. And thenā€¦ā€

ā€œPray weā€™ll make it out in one piece?ā€

Jeanne scoffed, then hoisted the backpack upwards as she stood, before looking over her shoulder towards her partner with a smirk. ā€Never took you for the praying sort.ā€

Marcus shrugged, though he couldnā€™t help but return the smile. ā€œFigure that nowā€™s as good a time as any to start.ā€

And so, the duo dashed back out, into the shaded alleys of Creā€™Est, to find a light of hope amidst the encroaching darkness...

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