The Continent of Interia

Amelia sighed as she looked up towards the weary gray sky, a maelstrom of rain pelting her face, as she wondered what exactly she was doing. Here she was on a dark rainy day, a day she would normally spend at home, in the middle of some dark alleyway without even a bit of cover from the rain. She would forever remember this day as as one of the lowest points in her service to the Lemon Seeds.

Amelia started adjusting her equipment, retying her shin guards and adjusting the various straps holding her equipment in place. As she did so the ex-thief slightly angled her face towards her various ‘comrades’.

“So what exactly is happening? I was drifting in an out during the briefing.” Amelia said in the general direction of the others; Amelia not really talking to anyone in particular but just looking for a feasible answer.

It wasn’t as if she hated any of them or even disliked anyone in particular but Amelia usually did feel rather stiff about the members in her group. They were comrades, yes, but in the end they were all just a group of specialized swords, fighting for a tyrannical King and going about killing the various individuals that opposed him. In the end she mostly thought of them as killers. She knew they all however had their own reason to join this group but Amelia wasn’t exactly one to go asking their reasons to join, lest they ask about hers. Although they were a specialized group there really was nothing really tying them to each other.

Amelia’s thoughts quickly swept over to an image of a burly giant of a man shouting orders in her head. ‘Well. I guess there’s him.’ She thought as she adjusted the soaked collar of her cloak a little higher. Hopefully the rain wouldn’t cause any problems for their mission, whatever it was. She fingered the guard of her sword, carefully tucked underneath her cloak, as she looked towards the others. Whatever they were about to do, Amelia was sure glad it was raining.

"I'm not wearing one." Tyro said as he passed by the voice and padded inside. Bare feet left similar shaped puddles as he wondered inside, dripping. An involuntary shiver of all his limbs sprayed more droplets. over everyone watching the tall, young man. He rattled his little finger in his ear to try and dislodge some water.
"Is it always like this?" He seemed to have managed to move the liquid. "I mean it looks like everything could flood at any minute!" He brushes his flat and heavy fringe out of the way of his eyes.
"Unless we're nowhere near a river. I haven't a clue." The silence he got was rather unsettling from everyone assembled inside the small lodge made of stone, mortar and wood. Only the crackle of the fire in its grate with the thunder of the rain ventured in to fill the void of silence. They were all watching him.
"What?" He said. The small crowd looked to a man that was fighting forwards. He was an aged blacksmith according to his clothing.
"This is Tyro. My customers that have been coming here have been talking only of him. He fits the description."
"I ain't convinced." Came the voice of an older woman near the back, trying to see but not actually getting up. They all watched him expectantly. It took a couple of seconds for Tyro to realise what they wanted. They all wanted to see what he could do. Everyone he's met so far has.
"Oh! Right, umm..." He clicks, creating a spark that grows instantly into a flame that sits in his hand. Eyes-widen and chatter breaks out as a man with an incredible bulk and beard pounds towards him. His bear-like hand goes for Tyro's hand, the one with the flame. He corrects his mistake in time and shakes his free hand vigorously.
"Mr Tyro," This deep bellow the man spoke in said, "I am Hugo Marx, mayor and peace-keeper of Cant. We wish to make sure your stay is a happy one and if there is anything we can do to help, just name it!" Tyro pulled his hand and arm back, trying to shake feeling back into it.
"Thank you." Tyro said, looking up to the grinning giant of a man. "All I'd like is a cake."

Marie whistled tunelessly from her perch atop the church spire. She loved the rain, loved how it made her clothes wet and left dew in her hair. Night and rain were the only times Marie ever felt comfortable, as they obscured details and kept anonymity. With a sigh, she donned her mask and pulled the hood up on her cloak. I suppose I should meet up with the others. she grumbled.

Grunting lightly, Marie dropped from her ledge and took off at a light run across the rooftops. She had missed briefing and the start of patrol, but Trackers rarely patrolled with the others. She was coming up on her one month inspection, however, and she needed the patrol hours to avoid reprimand. So she dashed and leaped here and there, scanning the crowd for signs of Lemon Seeds. Marie stumbled upon them by mistake, sliding down a drainpipe into a dark alleyway and almost landing on top of the group below her. She managed to stop and just hang on the pipe, watching and waiting. They undoubtably had detected her presence, but most Lemon Seeds knew to ignore her and allow her to tag along on her rare patrol days...like today.

"Ennis, go find out what's happening." There was a thud just next to him. "And Edgefield can go with you, since she seems so keen to get the drop on people. If he's connected at all to this, kill the man. If not... let him be. And that's an order from Soble himself."

"And you said he didn't know what he was doing." Amelia muttered under her breath, hopefully low enough to remain silent.

Amelia darted her eyes briefly towards Maria. 'Mariah? Marie?' she thought. Whatever her name was. Amelia still wasn't all too familiar with the rest of the troupe. Either way, Amelia noted the way her temporary partner was hung upon the drainpipe like a monkey. She was amused but of course all that showed on Amelia's face were her dark expressionless eyes. Thank god.

Amelia gave the girl a curt nod and could have sworn she saw the elder woman do the same. It was the kind of nod they shared that seemed to say 'Don't slow me down.' to the other.

Without any more than that Amelia darted off after the man, keeping low to the ground, leaping silently from shadow to shadow.

Hauclir loved this kind of rain. It reminded him of the spray that would leap across the deck, and of the furious storms which they oft outran. For a few moments he stood there, eyes closed, remembering what it felt like to stand in the crow's nest, with the tumble and roll of the deck beneath him as they sailed towards their prey. He could picture the convoys of fat merchant vessels they would sweep down upon, remember the feeling of triumph as they hauled the loot aboard and then-
And then he heard voices below him, snapping him from his reverie. They were familiar voices, those of the rest of the Lemon Seeds. Or at least the ones he knew, anyway. It must be time for a patrol already, which meant another opportunity for some pay. For a fleeting moment he let a smile cross his lips as he thought about the plans for the ship he had drawn up. Just one more year trapped on land, and then I'll be back where I belong, he thought to himself. He looked down to check there was nobody below him, and then swung over the side of the roof, using the hand and foot holds provided by the roughly made structure to climb down to ground level. He gave a curt nod in greeting before heading to the back of the group, wincing as his bare feet stepped through the muck on the floor. Better than wearing shoes he reminded himself.
"So...what are we doing this time?" he whispered haltingly to the nearest person, hopefully quiet enough that none of the command staff would hear. He had felt the lick of the lash enough times in his life without another taste from these landlubbers. Nevertheless his speech was awkward, he had never really talked to any of the other Seeds before, so this hushed question probably qualified as an outburst.

For some reason, this man seemed to be a target. He did move awfully suspiciously, but he could just be a bit off the rocker. However...An order direct from Soble. That was a pretty heavy piece of information there. Marie had only seen Mr. Soble a few times, but she'd always kept to a distance.

"Fill me in? I missed Briefing," she requested the other woman. Her question was loud enough to be heard over their footfalls and the ambient noise, but not loud enough to be overheard by anyone else. Such is the way of Trackers, who must remain stealthy even in groups. Marie eyed their progress carefully.

Not mindless buffoons then...An even pace. We can still see things what need to be seen, 'n get ta where we need gettin' She listened carefully as her running mate whispered the details, flavored often with personal opinions.

The prey moved with purpose, but not evenly or with great precision. He would often stop and look at something, which meant they had to stop and hide, or spin about quickly, which caused them to scramble into the nearest cover. Marie made a face behind her mask as she noted how dirty her clothes were getting.

Damned suspects. This one is gonna cost me a fortune in laundry. However, she perked up when the man walked into a small house. She patted her partner on the shoulder lightly and sidled up to the window. The man was talking with a few other people, but they were making lots of ambient noise and generally whispering. It was hard for Marie to pick out words. She turned to Amelia, hoping the other woman had better hearing for that sort of thing.

quad post DAMMIT

FIVE GODDAMNED POST??? Seriously????

double post

triple post

Amelia sidled up to the window alongside her masked partner. She wasn’t sure but it looked as if Marie wasn’t able to hear them too clearly. Amelia leaned up closer and tried to listen in on the apparent conversation; however there was a lot of ambient noise in the background. She tried to listen in but found it next to impossible to clearly hear their words among the background noise not much less the rain. Reaching into her knife pouch Amelia produced one of her favorite weapons: the stiletto. As she poked it lightly underneath the window she slowly and carefully began to jimmy it slightly open. In this kind of weather it wasn’t uncommon for the window to shake and rattle lightly so the people inside didn’t seem to take notice of what was occurring.

Amelia cursed however when the latch lock from inside of the window caused her to reach the maximum limit for opening the window. It seemed, however, to be just enough for the Investigator to lean in closer to hear the chatter inside. It was definitely clearer than her first try but still rather chopped up.

“Ready…weapons…Redwood Alley…few days…guards...riot.” Were various words she was able to pick up from the low hushed tones of their prey. From what she was able to pick up she determined that a few cut throats were planning on causing a riot a few days from now.

Amelia turned to her partner and whispered. “I think these are the guys. Kill first then ask questions later?” Amelia prepared herself, ready for the confirmation to spring into action at a moment’s notice.

With a grin that Amelia couldn't see, Marie reached into her cloak and withdrew a rather nasty device.

"Gas bomb. I'll put it in th' house, 'n they'll be dead fore they notice." Using her flint stones, she attempted to get a spark going, but the rain and splashing into puddles had soaked the fuse, making it useless till she dried it. She sighed lightly and returned it, then unwrapped her chain from around her torso. Using sweeping arm gestures, she wove it into a pair of heavy gauntlets with a cable between them.

"I s'pose this is th' more excitin' way, ya? Follow me." Marie used both of her fists like a hammer and smashed the window in, jumping clear over the jagged leftovers. She had expected resistance, but not from seven well armed and burly farmhands. "Erm...Amelia? A bit o' help would be spot on, ya know." However, the thugs were already advancing. Her only hope was to get right in the middle and use group tactics...her speciality. She jumped feet first at the tallest of the group, wrapping her legs around his neck and spinning around 180 degrees. The others stared stupidly at her for a moment, allowing Amelia to enter the house undetected.

"No quarter is given, and no mercy to be found! Cast in the name of gold, ye greedy, and prepare to dine a banquet in hell!" shouted Marie, who followed up with an eerie echoing cackle. The men flinched and looked at each other wildy for a moment, and then she was on them. One strike on a goon before moving; this be the golden rule of group fights. Marie loved psychological warfare. If you can convince your opponent that either he is already beat, or that you are invincible, you bring these things to pass. Something she learned in training.

However, there were still six of them, and she wasn't superhuman. She began to tire from swinging her club-like fists, relying more on dodging and footwork than damage.

If it was possible to produce a large enough sweat drop that would be visible to the naked eye Amelia would have done that the moment she witnessed Marie whirl haphazardly into the house. Amelia was definitely one of stealth and from racing through the streets with her she assumed Marie would have been the same.

‘To each their own I suppose.’ thought Amelia as an imaginary sweat drop rolled down her forehead.

Amelia deftly hopped over the broken window pane and slipped into the house unnoticed. Amelia’s hand immediately went to her saber as a reflex but decided against that in this group. The combat quarters were rather small and Marie’s actions took over a good portion of the room. If neither Amelia nor Marie was careful friendly fire was sure to occur.

Whirling out two stilettos, one in each hand, she began to one by one sneak up behind one of the men as they were intently focused on Marie’s actions. It was obvious by this one’s hesitation that he was trying, and failing, to find an opening. Taking her chance deftly stabbed her two daggers into the man’s neck, aiming carefully for his jugular and nerves, and killed him instantly.

Even when the others took notice they were quickly distracted by Marie’s relentless assault. It had taken a while but from the combination of Amelia’s behind-the-back attacks and Marie destroying the rest with her fists only one man had remained.

“That took forever.” Amelia said as she wiped some sweat from her brow.

Looking down at the remaining, alive, man Amelia felt almost a twinge of guilt. It passed as quickly as it came and Amelia asked if Marie had anything to bind the man with. Maybe the commander can get some information from him.

Marie looked at the window in utter shock. That had never happened to her before.

"Erm...Should we chase 'im?" She scratched her hair in confusion, then pulled her hood back up over her head. Sniffling a bit, she looked around the room. Six dead, one escaped. Not good for her record.

More importantly, she picked up the bolt from the crossbow and examined it. It seemed like a normal bolt, nothing unusual about it. She wrapped the chain around her waist again and sat crosslegged on a nearby table. After throwing a quick glance at her partner, she removed her mask and set it gently next to her. She sniffed the wood, flexing it a bit before breaking it completely in half.

"Lead core...maple wood...iron tip and feathers. Hmm." She drew a small flask from her belt and took a hit off it before pouring a bit on one half of the bolt. It sizzled a bit and then fingerprints appeared, as if scorched there. Marie looked at it from several angles before licking it.

"Hmm...Nothing special here. Just maple." She sighed and tucked the bolt and flask away in her cloak and donned her mask and hood.

"C'mon. We should report th' findings ta th' boss." She kicked open the door in frustration and stalked into a nearby alleyway, heading back to the group.

Absentmindedly, Marie turned to her companion and said, "Nah...Tarn's gonna kill you. My commander'll jus' flay me alive." She winced and touched her back at the thought. However, she didn't come away empty handed. The bolt could be analyzed for things that could help them track down this 'Condor' group.

"It twasn't that bad, though. I c'n still get a few nibblin's off th' bolt. Tell Tarn that we c'n still salvage th' whole thing. I'll go wiv ya...fer moral support." She sighed and shook her head. 'Moral support. What kinda partner am I? I'll take th' blame fer her, seein as how I don' report ta Tarn anyways.'

When they rounded the corner and approached the group, Marie put her arm out to stop Amelia. "I'll handle this," she whispered. Tarn looked at the two impatiently, so she quickly approached him and started explaining the situation. His expression went from bad to worse when she mentioned the man getting away, and from worse to horrible when she tried to explain that she could fix the situation. Marie could tell why Amelia was afraid of this man, but she kept a cool head.

If he tried to do anything but verbally reprimand her, she was prepared to...defend herself. She certainly knew how, and wouldn't have a problem with just one man. His teammates, however, might be a problem. She was still worn out from the fight earlier, and she knew Amelia would be forced to join in if it came to blows...on the other side. It would be suicide to attack one's commanding officer.

Hauclir was not impressed at Tarn's behaviour. Yes, the woman- was Marie her name? he couldn't remember-, had failed in her task. But to suddenly start beating her for it was ridiculous. He was fairly certain she didn't even fall under his command. Besides the fact that he thought it wrong to hit a woman, it was actions like that that lead to mutinies, or to the officers involved disappearing in the night. Despite all of these misgivings, he remained silent. This was not the sea, perhaps things worked differently here. When the order was given to march out he obediently double timed it, easily keeping pace with everyone.

When he saw the fight, he was at first rather annoyed. This was quickly turning into a patrol he probably should've skipped. Then the big guy with the axes called him a sea horse. In the back of his mind he knew that the man probably had no idea who he was, but at the front of it a furnace of rage opened up. He slung the small bolt thrower from his shoulder and began to ready it to fire. He levered the arms into position, locked the trigger mechanism in place, and then attached the arming lever. The whole thing had taken a couple of minutes to set up, and then it took him another minute or so to complete the twenty ratchets needed to pull the cord back and fit the bolt. But the result was worth it.

Grinning, he shouted back to the man "Everybody knows a Corsair's a sea bird, 'cos we fly fast...and 'cos we have talons." And with a wicked wink he braced himself and pulled the trigger. The bolt thrower bucked, rocking him back, and the bolt flew through the air almost faster than the eye could follow. It narrowly missed the brawl Tarn was caught up in, and then the two foot long iron tipped projectile hit the peasant he had aimed at. The impact lasted less than a second, with the man's head bursting like a watermelon. It then kept on going, impaling itself through the foot of another peasant, pinning him to the floor. Not bad for the first shot of the day he thought to himself, as he began the process of reloading the weapon...

Marie finally caught up to the group, and quickly examined the fighters, trying to see exactly who was winning. She cursed under her breath and slid down the nearest drainpipe. Since no-one noticed her yet, she had time to unwind her chain and drink from her flask. The firey liquid burned down her throat and stoked the already boiling furnace deep inside of her.

"Ah...Strong batch. Good. I'll need th' boost." Marie quickly wiped excess water off her mask and whistled shrilly. A few peasants turned and looked at her, then eachother, and then charged. Marie simply laughed and spun in a circle.

At the end of her spin she whipped her arm over head, and then sharply to the left. The chain uncoiled from under her feet and leaped through the air. The heavy weight smashed into the lead man's face, caving it in and spraying blood everywhere, and then her left yank sent it flying into the second man. He tripped and impaled himself through the ribcage on his own sword, which made Marie giggle a bit. The final guy slowed to a stop and looked at his dead friends in shock. Marie started making big windmill sweeps, causing the chain to form two big circles on each side of her and sparks to leap high from where it made contact with the ground.

'No quarter is given, No mercy to be found! Cast in the name of gold, ye greedy, and prepare to dine a banquet in Hell!' The man trembled and shook as she yelled at him. She had gotten close enough that he could see her mask, but in his terrified state he thought it was her real face, and that she was Death come for him.

'No! No you can't take me!!' the peasant shouted. He was going to say something else, but the chain burst his throat, sending his head high in the air.

"Well, that's three off their backs. I'll take care of any stragglers, but they seem to have a handle on it," Marie mused to herself.

Shannon Briscoe grinned fiendishly. The terrain was more open than she was used to, but she could work with it. What she didn't like was the crowded battlefield...this was going to be tough. Whipping out her crossbow and expertly loading a bolt into it, she took a few quick steps to increase the chances the shot would come from an unexpected direction, then pulled the trigger, sending the steel-tipped projectile square into the kidney of one of the would-be fugitives. Sure, Hauclir's device was impressive, able to cleave through multiple targets in a single mighty shot, but it was more of a siege weapon. It could come in handy if they needed to break a fortification, she thought, but boys and their toys...