[IRP] A Fall From Grace: The Escape from Laus

[Lavi]

The sun was starting to set as Castle Laus came into view. Cecily gazed upon the fortress that was her home for most of her life, admiring how it towered over all other structures for the millionth time as her carriage lazily made its way down the road. It was escorted from front and rear by other carriages, filled with armed guards. It was around this time while traveling to Badon that her entourage fell under attack by brigands. Although they were driven off, they managed to break into Cecily's carriage, placing her life at risk. Thankfully, nothing drastic came of the situation when they arrived to meet with the Badonians, though her trip back was particularly cared for by her guards, as well as by Badon's own guardsmen until they left the march.

As they approached the outskirts of the capital of Laus, they were accompanied by guards on foot. Cecily peered out at them with suspicion. It wasn't normal for her to be so heavily guarded within her own home city. Her immediate thought was that news of the attempt on her life prompted such an action by the Marquess Laus, but even then, crime within the city has been fairly low in recent months.

She searched the guardsmen jogging alongside her carriage, spotting Captain Miles among them. Although he could not be considered a friend, he was trustworthy enough.

"Miles, what is the meaning of this?" Cecily called out after him.

The Lausian guard captain stopped for a moment for a quick salute before continuing alongside the carriage. "Marquess Laus ordered that you be escorted to the throne room immediately after you arrive in the city, milady."

With that explanation, Cecily remained silent the rest of the way to the castle. She didn't believe that the marquess would want to speak with her about surviving her assassination attempt; she was sure that the marquess did not care about her to the extent that he would ensure that she was comfortable in the aftermath (as though she needed to be comforted about such trivial matters). The question piqued her curiosity as she was escorted out of her carriage and into the great hall.

((For fitting music: run all you like: you can't escape fate))

Marquess Hannes and his son Lucian were already waiting. Somehow, the echoing of her high heels tapping against the stone floor didn't sound as welcoming as when she left. Cecily measured the faces of her uncle and cousin as she came closer: grim and stern. It was clear that they were not concerned by her well being. In fact, she felt as though they wouldn't care if she died in Badon.

"Please elaborate, Marquess Laus," she gestured to her uncle to speak.

"There's no need," Lucian interjected.

He stepped forward, snatching Cecily by the cuff of her gown and pulling her in close. Cecily looked neither shocked or afraid by the heir's rough handling of her. For Lucian to do so was not entirely unexpected, but she was curious as to why he didn't hold himself in check this particular time. However, she didn't have to wonder.

"You're not a true member of the Laus marquessate. You are a bastardized child that your father made the mistake of conceiving with that commoner wench!" he shouted.

"And?" she asked.

Although she looked unfazed on the surface, Cecily was reeling. Her father never said anything about the circumstances of her birth. She knew her mother died when she was young, but little more than that. At the same time, Cecily never felt the urge to dig into the investigations around the incident, as it was both a cold case and unlikely to affect herself in the future. At least, that was her assumption.

"Your illegitimacy means that you should never had been a representative of Laus at all, nor should you have been given access to the services and facilities provided to Lausian nobility. Your father confided the truth with me himself, offering me the marquessate in exchange for helping him keep the secret of your birth hidden from the public. But under the circumstances, it has become clear to me that he intends to betray my trust. For this reason, I must do the same," Marquess Hannes explained. "Guards, lock her away."

"I suppose you are revealing all of this because you are afraid," Cecily said, as two guards approached her, taking her by the arms and pulling her towards the dungeons.

She made no attempt to resist them, knowing that it would change nothing. However, she walked at her own pace, much slower than what the guards were willing to let her. So, Cecily was half-walking, half-dragged out of the halls.

"So you are stripping Lord Reynert of title and declaring me illegitimate to cement your rule over Laus. But you know you cannot execute us because the Lausian army would riot over the death of the man that led them in Etruria, as well as his daughter. If you execute us, you would also have to purge the Lausian military command, putting the security of the march in the hands of the Emperor himself!" she shouted after the marquess as the ruler took his leave.

She knew she was right and the marquess' silence confirmed her logic. Lucian also took his leave without further words of his own, leaving Cecily with her forceful escort to the castle dungeons.

"You may have caught me with no cards to play, but you made a mistake, uncle," she muttered to herself as she cooperated the rest of the way to her prison cell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later…

Although she wasn't tied or shackled, the prison cell door was locked. It was evident that Cecily wasn't expected to be able to escape her cell. After spending time examining her surroundings, she had to agree with that assessment. She didn't have the strength to break anything in the cell, the guards were informed not to heed anything she said, and the cell lacked any notable deficiency that could be exploited to escape.

Then Captain Miles appeared again, dismissing the guards at the dungeon door as he entered, presumably to share words with Cecily in privacy. It was to her surprise that he didn't spend any time talking and immediately unlocked her cell door.

"Why?" she asked him, approaching the open prison door.

"You're the daughter of Lord Reynert. It was his leadership that kept my brother alive," he explained in a low voice.

"You do understand that you are making me responsible for your own death," she hissed at him.

"I live and die for the protection of the Laus family," he replied. "Illegitimate or not, your efforts were all in our best interests. If my death gives you a second wind to do more good, then so be it."

Cecily gave a sigh, reluctant to thank him for his faith in her. "I suppose even fools can have their moment of glory."

The two snuck out of the dungeon, quietly making their way out of the castle. They only took a moment for Cecily to collect her favorite parasol, which the captain of the guard knew carried a concealed rapier for self-defense. Cecily had to walk barefoot, since all she had were the high heel shoes that she wore on her trip from Badon, but she didn't mind the discomfort. It was infinitely better than remaining in the prison cell to rot away.

As they approached the outer walls, a patrolling guard shouted in astonishment at Cecily's presence.

"Quick, you need to hide!" Miles instructed her.

Cecily only rolled her eyes at the obvious command. "I know."

The two ran, with Miles holding his lady's hand tightly to urge her to move faster. But Cecily, admittedly, was not athletic in the slightest, nor was her relatively fanciful clothes designed for such activities. When they made it towards the undrawn bridge, he deftly slew the two guards that waited there and pushed her along and drew his sword, meaning to hold off the growing number of guards that approach.

Cecily just ran without a word, climbing underneath the bridge. She knew what he intended to do and what the consequences and inevitable result would be. He already accepted his fate when he chose to help her.

Good-bye, Miles.

She submerged herself into the moat surrounding the castle, pulling the ends of her gown underneath with her. Although her clothes would be completely ruined, there was no other place to hide in the dark while the castle was bustling with activity.

"Captain Miles, why are you siding with her?" one of the guards questioned the captain. "She's not a noble: it's not your duty!"

"What my duty is, is up to me to decide," Miles answered curtly, flourishing his sword. "In my eyes, Lady Laus is the rightful heir of the marquessate!"

He counted six guardsmen brandishing their weapons in response to his aggressive posture.

"Got you all where I want you. Ready to die?" he taunted them. A horrible joke. But he knew that he won't have an opportunity to take another shot at it again.

His opponents charged.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days later…

Cecily concluded that the marquessate did not want her escape to be made public, due to the lack of search warrants. Although offering a reward would make it easier for them to find her, it also risks getting sympathizers involved. Perhaps Miles' betrayal of the marquessate shook up the Laus military.

She was able to find some ragged clothing to wear underneath her still-damp gown to keep her warm and a shawl (large enough to have a hood at that!) to wear on top, at least, and used it to slip into a pub, sitting down at an empty booth in the corner of the establishment. It reeked of cigars and crude alcohol: evidently one of the lower-class drinking pubs in the city. However, she carried no money: it wasn't necessary when everything would be provided at the appropriate time as a noble. Of course, she never expected to have been removed from nobility so abruptly. Although the pub was not the best of hiding places, Cecily could at least eavesdrop on the gossip that has been going around lately.

Yesterday, it was rumored that a noble of Castle Laus committed treason against the marquessate and is hiding in the city, explaining the city guards' heightened presence. Cecily slipped in that she heard the mistress of House Laus was declared an illegitimate child and she fled into the city, but the reason why the marquessate would simply bring this up now, or take issue with Lady Laus' illegitimacy now instead of back when she was still young, remaining elusive.

Today, her rumor caught on to the public, to her pleasure. Predictably: the public was split into two factions, those who support the marquessate and those who support Cecily. Now, regardless of the marquessate's actions, Cecily knew that the Eight Republics would become involved in her escape from the city. At least, if they manage to find her before the city guard does. However, things are never as easy as they appear.

"Excuse me, miss," one of the guards called in her direction, pushing his way through a crowd to get to her. "You in the tan-colored shawl!"

Cecily frowned, having forgotten the color of her ragged shawl, turning a corner to examine it. It was indeed tan-colored. Drat.

She pretended not to hear, trying to get out of the guard's sight as she pulled the shawl's hood over her head. As the day approached noon, more and more people were getting out and about for their daily tasks, meaning that there would be a massive wave of bodies headed towards the city square: at first, she was trying to head away from the center, but there was only so much pushing and shoving that can be done. Instead, Cecily went with the crowd into the center, losing the guard by the sheer number of people moving with her.

The city square was adorned by an elaborate fountain, surrounded by neatly rowed vendors selling their wares, celebrating the ancestry of the marquessate with the statue of the first marquess of Laus. The statue rested a hand at the hilt of its sword, sheathed in a decorated scabbard, while presenting a small urn, which gushed with a steady stream of water, with his other. Although the statue Laus was not smiling, there was something in its eye that hinted a gentle nature.

It was at the fountain side that Cecily took a moment to rest. She cupped her hands beneath the falling water and washed her face with it, wiping away the thin layer of caking dirt from her brow and cheeks. She presumed it would not be unusual to do so, as Cecily noted such in other marches she had visited. However, her time to reprieve was short, as she saw the armored boots of a city guard before her.

"Excuse me, miss, do you have a moment?" the guard asked.

"Yes, I suppose so," she answered. Cecily did not look up at the man before her, keeping her eyes focused on the stone street. She knew that the guard was holding the picture (likely herself) at a height where he would be able to see her face.

"Have you seen this woman? She had been missing for a day or so: her family is worried about her," the man said.

The fact that he did not recognize her by voice was promising. As long as she played it right, it would be simple enough to get by.

"I'm awful at remembering faces. Sorry, there's no chance I would remember a total stranger," she shook her head.

"I see. Thank you for your time," the guard sighed. He must have been going at it for hours without any luck. Perhaps thinking that there is no point in asking people on the street if an outcast noble was seen in the area.

Cecily got to her feet, deciding that it was time to leave the square, before another smarter guard questions her.

"Oh, I almost forgot to mention…" it was him again.

She looked on instinct, realizing her mistake as the guard realized that she was the woman he was searching for. He had her held by the wrist as Cecily tried to make her escape.

"Stop!" he shouted at her. And she did: his grip was strong and he would be able to resist any attempt at her prying his fingers off of her arm; running is no longer an option.

"Release me," she said in her commanding voice.

It was rare for her to speak as such, but she was told that it was quite possibly the coldest, goose bump-inviting voice heard among nobility. Although the guard shirked at her sudden attitude, he defied her order. Her voice attracted the pedestrians nearby, drawing attention. Just as she planned.

"I've been ordered to return you to the castle," he explained.

"Returned to the dungeon under lock and key? After Captain Miles, one of your superiors, sacrificed everything to see that I am not reduced to the marquess' scapegoat? I'd rather take my chances," Cecily snarled. Her eyes would freeze the duty-bound guard if it could shoot ice beams.

A crowd was gathering around the two and questions began to arise.

"Is that the Lady Laus?"

"Can't be: why would she be covered in mud?"

"I heard that she and Marquess Laus had some kind of fallout and was dismissed from the court."

"She's the illegitimate child of Lord Reynert: she's not supposed to be nobility in the first place!"

"Illegitimate or not, she had been supportive of us in domestic and foreign politics. This isn't right."

"Really? From what I've seen, she treats politics like a game and doesn't seem to take anything seriously. Why would anyone trust a 'noble' like that?"

[Rock]

Kethen Dorn was an ugly man by most means. His face and body were covered in scars, his skin was oily and his hair and beard unkempt. He did have one thing going for him though, his size. He towered over most people allowing him to look down on them with cold black eyes. He was well toned and could swing his axe hard enough to cut a man in two.

Now though, he was engaged in a contest of strength with one of the town guards. The soldier was fairly strong, a testament to his training, but the pile of gold coins stacked on the table next to them gave Kethen the drive to win. With a final grunt the axe fighter slammed his opponent's hand against the table, causing the gold to jump slightly. With a practiced motion the mercenary swept up every last bit of money and placed it in the bag he kept tied around his neck.

"Better luck next time." He said in a gravelly voice. He flexed his arm a time or two before he grabbed his weapon and rested it on his shoulder. This bar was tapped out now so he'd have to move on. Sadly most of the mercenary work around here was terrible so he had to make his traveling money by beating up local law enforcement. He smiled slightly, military types were easy pickings.

The only real job he got wind of was something about a missing noble and even that was just a whispered rumor here and there. Kethen moved through the town until he got to a large fountain that was supplying water. He used it to fill his water skins and prepared to move on. A guard and a young girl were causing a fuss and that attracted a crowd.

The man caught snippets of the conversation from both crowd and the two involved in the altercation allowing him to put two and two together. He thought for a moment before deciding on an action. With his axe once again on his shoulder he walked over to the pair, approaching from behind. As he moved he noted the guard's hand gripping the girl. He cleared his throat, as sound reminiscent of boots stomping down a gravel road.

"How's about you let go of the girl." He growled. "I'd hate to have to take yer head for it. Especially since I probably won't get paid for it." In all honesty the move wasn't out of a sense of justice. Having nobles owe you was always a good thing. Well, that and they were normally rich...

[Alusq]

Renata had been wandering throughout town again, looking for some group of merchants, mercenaries, or whatever else existed that traveled long distances and that she could accompany. But she predicted that today's search would be the same as the other days': useless.
However, Renata's predictions had become more unsure today with the rumor circulating around town that Lady Cecily was a traitoress of some sort. Today had potential, if only a tiny bit more.

And now there was a crowd gathering around a girl and a guard. Renata was included in the hundreds of onlookers who found themselves in the right— or wrong— place at the right time.
The girl in the clearing said something authoritative, and the crowd began murmuring. ”... she the Lady Laus? ... some kind of fallout... illegitimate or not... treats politics like a game...”
"I see now!" an aged man behind Renata cawed triumphantly. "Madame Sister has come to Laus to re-baptise Lord Reynert, so he may be pardoned for his terrible sin of having an illegitimate child!"
Renata sighed heavily: she had been followed around today by several religious men who were in awe of her, thinking that she must be an important vassal of the Church of the Preservation of Sanctity to own such an embellished white horse, which Renata had hoped would not attract much attention when she left it hitched at the inn she'd blown most of her money staying at. Should've stolen a brown one instead, she thought to herself, annoyed. She was a fugitive, not a holy vassal, but perhaps she could play the role of the latter for now. She had ignored the men so far, making some of them think that she was sworn to silence, but they still made their conjectures loudly and freely, no matter how absurd they were. "Shut up," she muttered inaudibly under her breath. Shut up shut up shutup shutupshutupshutup...
But the old man and his twats continued, adding to the chorus of murmurs.
"But that would mean the rumors..."
"... if only we men could show such divine forgiveness..."
"... is it true, Sister?"
They still asked her questions even though they knew she wouldn't answer them.
"My men, my fellow men, a messenger of blessed Elimine!" Some of the onlookers shifted around Renata as the fervent old man proclaimed whatever he was proclaiming now, giving her a clear view of the situation in the clearing. That's the first and last time that little entourage will be of any use. Renata resolved to wear a hood or some other less attention-grabbing garb next time she was on the run, similar to how the Lady Cecily in the clearing was now.

And Renata already believed that it was the Lady Cecily. The features checked out: hair, eyes, as much of it as she could see anyway. And the Lady's face was a pleasant surprise: it was not the face of an innocent princess, as the common folk's stories made it out to be. No, it was the face of a young woman who had steeled herself for whatever hardship lied ahead.
"... My man, my fellow ma— aigh!" The old man had made the mistake of getting in a guard's face, and had now been pushed back and lost in the crowd... and now that guard was eying Renata expectantly, between glances at Cecily and the grizzled mercenary who had stepped in as Renata had been idly contemplating.

"I believe you should listen to him," Renata said to the guard who was holding Cecily, approaching the soldier's front as Kethen approached from the back. May as well take a risk. "I am a cleric of the Church of the Preservation, summoned from Thria yesterday, and," her voice quivered as she lied about being summoned, "we do not smile upon such brusque handling of nobility." She knew that the Laus folk knew that the Lady Cecily was illegitimate. But if she could get away with the lie that the church was on the lady's side... well, it could cause a tiny little misunderstanding for the church. And a blow to the church was a triumph.

[Victor]

That bastard! That utterly terrible, no-good dog would dare handle a noblewoman with such brute force. No matter what she had done, Roland was appalled at the firm grasp and the shouted words. From the murmurs of the crowd, and, by the looks of her, shrouded and hidden away, guarded as the treasure she was, this was Lady Cecily of Laus. And he couldn't bear to see her treated like this. No sworn and proper knight could. Having returned to Laus to collect his payment for the safe escort of refugees into Sacae, Roland was both armed and ready to take on any possible threat to those nobles who should rightfully be in charge. The world was like it was for a reason, and no moral code he'd ever heard of allowed a guard to grab someone of higher standing and pull her around as a snot-nosed, ugly brat yanks flowers out of the nurturing earth.

Roland leapt into action, pushing back several of the commoners in the square in order to attend to the much more pressing matter of Lady Cecily's freedom. One of the guards in the square attempted to push him back, but he powered through, drawing his sword and deftly swinging at the air dividing him from the corrupted, so-called protectors of the law.

"Unhand her, blackguard!" he yelled, striding up to the guard, with weapon and teeth bared. "I am Sir Roland Summer, Knight of the Three Covenants, Soldier of Ostia, and known protector of the delicate! I swear to all powers that I will smite you where you stand should you not release this woman immediately!"

[Lavi]

The guard looked at the towering figure, a flash of anxiety sweeping across his face before he let his training sink back in.

"Sir, this is an internal matter concerning House Laus. By attacking a member of the Laus City Guard, you are marking yourself a criminal and will be treated accordingly," he said.

Then, one of the men in the crowd bumped into another guard who arrived at the scene, and the guard instinctively gripped his lance in both hands, thinking that the crowd was going to swarm over him. However, only one broke through like a juggernaut, swinging his sword at the guard who handed Cecily. The man complied to the man's order of unhanding her, brandishing his lance at the other.

"Stand down, Sir Knight! This is a matter of internal affairs!" the guard shouted at Sir Roland.

However, with numerous witnesses and armed guards about, Cecily knew better than to fight or flee. The civilians could get hurt and any blood shed would be upon her name. It was in her best interest to avoid fighting whenever possible. However, she already noted that fighting entirely may be out of the question, as the guards at the city wall would be on particularly high alert.

"I appreciate everyone's concern for me, though drawing weapons are placing everyone here at risk," she said, particularly to Kethen and Roland.

Thankfully, it seemed one of the clergymen of the Church intervened. At first, Cecily believed that was the case: she had no reason to not believe the words that the crowd spoke. The slight tremor in the cleric's voice, however, suggested that she was either a novice or not a clergyman at all. The cleric carried herself in a way befitting of a follower of the Church of Sanctity, so she presumed the former for the time being.

"Thank you for intervening, Sister," she said. "May you accompany me back to the castle? I'm sure your presence will help ease the tension within the House."

"Oh, and the tall one can come along if he wishes, at whatever guard you see fit," she told the one who once held her at the wrist.

Cecily gestured for Sir Roland to accompany her as more of the city guardsmen arrived to take her back to the castle, forming a perimeter around her in the name of security.

As her entourage made their way towards the castle, Cecily opened her dirtied parasol and started singing in a low voice [link]. Unknown to those around her, her singing carried itself through the entirety of Laus. In Etruria, Cecily focused particularly on the study of acoustic magics, such as galdrar, that the dragons of old were known to use to reinvigorate their allies. She used it now, because among the crowd that noticed her in the square, there had to have been someone who was her ally. With her magic, her allies can keep track of her progress.

The streets were cleared ahead of the procession for Cecily's protection, but she knew it would be done hastily due to the short notice. For a coordinated group like the Eight Republics, it would be no problem overcoming the precautions given.

As she finished singing, she heard a muffled explosion and smoke poured in around them. A smoke bomb trap, sprung as Cecily predicted.

"Protect the mistress!" she heard someone say.

But the smoke was thick and suffocating for everyone, including Cecily. She tried to filter the smoke out with her shawl, coughing out what repulsive fumes she could, as she fumbled to get out of the street. Her eyes watered as she held out a hand, trying to find the stone wall of a nearby house to regain her sense of direction.

[Victor]

Roland, appeased, sheathed his sword. There seemed to be a small misunderstanding, as the Lady was going peacefully. He wasn't sure what the altercation was about, but he was somewhat pleased that he wouldn't have to lay down his life in order to protect the lady of a noble house that he knew near nothing about and had possibly only seen once or twice in his life. However, that wasn't to say he wouldn't do it, he reassured himself. Should the opportunity have called for it. Thankfully, it was not the proper time.

Walking alongside the perimeter of guards protecting the lady, Roland swore to keep his sword in its scabbard for the time being. There was no use riling up the crowd, who seemed fit to charge or attack at the drop of a hat. Or the opening of a parasol? He noticed the Lady Cecily shading herself from the sun, shortly before the group was entirely engulfed in smoke.

Promises to himself were of no use at all! Coughing, his hand shot to the sword's pommel. Eyes watering, Roland stood ready to strike, backing himself against some sort of stone wall, as soon as the damn smoke cleared up.

[Alusq]

"Of course, milady," Renata simply replied to Cecily before beginning to move along with the group. She remained wary as guards surrounded the lady and probably the others too. And then the lady of Laus... began singing?

Suddenly, everything had been plunged into smoke. Renata reeled, jamming her scarf into her face and trying not to move too much lest she make the guards feisty. Directly after that she realised that nobody could even see through this haze at the moment, so she ventured a few steps to the side.
Renata scanned the terrible fog continuously, at least during the times that she wasn't screwing her eyes shut. She considered attempting to use light magic to dispel the smoke, but she had already decided that she would not draw sword or tome until it was absolutely needed. Anything else was almost guarantied to create misunderstanding.

A stone wall existed where Renata had intended on existing as she bumped into the side of the house. The type of smoke that hangs in the air and overwhelms the senses, rang out a fragmented thought as she held out an arm to catch herself against the stone wall. Her hand landing on Cecily's shoulder instead, she began an apology: "I a—" —pologise, milad— Neither the speech nor the thought completed itself as she made the mistake of opening her mouth and began coughing uncontrollably, muffling her mouth again as she leaned against the house for balance.

[Rock]

Kethen followed more out of boredom than a sense of duty or obligation at this point. There wasn't going to be any bloodshed in the square so he contented himself with resting his axe on his shoulder. The group marched towards the castle forcing the mercenary to keep a sharp eye on the soldiers escorting them on their grim march.

It shocked the man when his temporary ward began to sing. He had heard of some people being able to look death in the face and laugh but those were few and far between and were generally half mad. So when one so young began sing on the road that could very well be the last she ever walked, Kethen was moved.

Then the smoke hit him in the face causing him to choke and sputter. He threw his free hand in front of his mouth in an effort to shield his lungs from the burning haze but it had little to no purpose. He staggered forward hoping to escape from the fumes.

[Lavi]

When a hand rested on her shoulder, Cecily almost jumped, but it was just the cleric instead of one of the guards. Although it would be appropriate to apologize to a noble for the gesture, now was far from the time. She rolled her eyes and looked around as the smoke began to clear.

The chivalrous knight and burly bystander from before were still standing, but the city guardsmen were either on the ground or still trying to figure out what was going on. Only two were left, but they were also quickly felled from unseen hiding places.

Cecily stood up, walking over to the nearest fallen guard to check the body. She pulled out a dart, licking her lips and pressing the pointed end against her lips. It tingled to the touch of her saliva and she quickly wiped away the substance.

"I did say no killing, did I not, Theodore?" she called into the streets as she returned to her feet.

A rogue-like figure popped out of his hiding place, carrying a blowpipe, before Cecily. He knelt immediately, bowing his head to only gaze upon Cecily's feet.

"You did, my lady. It's only a sleeping poison: they will awake in an hour," Theodore replied.

"Excellent. It is no longer safe for me to remain in the city, therefore I need to leave Laus. Have the Eight Republics prepare some provisions for my journey,"

"Where do you plan to go, milady?" Theodore asked.

"I cannot rely on Ryerde and Worde, as they may already be manipulated into agreeing with the Laus marquessate. The Aquleian marquess admitted to manipulating the Etruscan side of the conflict in exchange for the marquessate in the new government, therefore he cannot be trusted with something this delicate. Other marquessates are either political rivals or wildcards in Lycia so I cannot afford to gamble their involvement. Therefore, I am going to Bern," Cecily folded her parasol as she explained.

"I will be traveling with those already accompanying me, but if they refuse, you are free to take them prisoner," she added.

"I trust there are no objections?" she looked upon each of the remaining individuals, stopping at the cleric in particular.

[Alusq]

"None at all, milady," Renata replied to Cecily, perking up at the mention of Bern. This was what she had been waiting for and more: even after betraying the church so recently she was already finding a new cause to lend her loyalty to as she also bowed.

Renata thought of introducing herself for a moment, but then decided that there likely was no time for that. This man— a retainer? She thought of asking about Theodore, but she decided that she would instead make herself useful and bring something to the table. "I have a horse hitched at the inn nearby if milady should need it." She left out the fact that it was both stolen and attention-grabbing: blinding white and decorated with the ornate saddling of the valkyrie that Renata was certainly not. I can slop some mud on it, she thought hopefully... Wait, she probably has an escape figured out already. "But given what just happened, I presume this is only step one of the plan?"

[Victor]

Take them prisoner? Now that was a bit harsh. Roland was impressed that the Lady Cecily could speak in such forward terms. They left little to the imagination. Thus, he resigned himself to travel to Bern. It could help in making some sort of contact with other Lycians, especially escaped nobles. He'd need to pledge his service to one soon, or risk losing his honor completely and becoming some old hermit.

Roland stood up from the wall and took his hand off of his sword. "Aye, I will follow you, my Lady, until you arrive to safety." And there was the cleric, already offering up her horse. He couldn't bear to be outdone by someone so common. He was more genteel, more refined, and yet, looked worse. He couldn't bear it one second.

"I, too, offer my horse to the Lady Cecily. Should your feet pound the dirty earth on our journey, I would consider it an insult to you and to myself."

[Rock]

Kethen eyed the noble's back up for a moment before determining that he was in the wrong position to take him out before he could shoot him with one of those darts. He sighed and shrugged.

"I gotta get outta here anyways." He said. "The guards saw me draw steel on one of their own so I can't stay here." Honestly doing this for a chance of pay was becoming a worse idea all the time. And the way things looked he wasn't going to get anything out of helping this girl on the run.

[Lavi]

"Step one or step ten, it makes no difference. I didn't ask for your input, Sister," Cecily answered Renata, waving away the cleric.

Truth be told, Cecily was improvising everything ever since she had left the castle, but she wouldn't dare tell anyone that. The fact that it looked like she knew what she was doing is good enough for the time being: even Theodore isn't insightful enough to tell exactly what the lady was thinking. But then the cleric mentioned a horse, which immediately piqued her interest.

"Ah yes: the good Sister wouldn't be able to travel from Thria to Laus in a day without a horse," she smiled. The very impromptu plan she created within the moment morphed into something ingenious to her mind, especially as the Sir Knight offered his horse (presumably not to be outdone by one of the Church, no less). No matter: the fact that they had any horse to begin with is a major step up from their previous state. The lady tapped the road with her parasol, getting Theodore's attention.

"Be sure to pack extra and make sure there is a large blanket and rope included. Have it all prepared on a wagon with hitch. Dismissed," she directed.

"Yes, milady," he answered, delivering a final kowtow before taking off into the urban mess of buildings.

"Come along now, we haven't the time to waste idling," Cecily gestured the others to follow her as she began a brisk walk back towards the city center. "We have horses to collect and supplies to pick up. The castle guard will arrive here shortly."

If Cecily had to guess, the city guardsmen sent a courier ahead to inform the castle guard of her capture. The castle guard would then rendezvous with her entourage on horseback to hastily bring her back within the confines of the castle-fortress. They would arrive at this section of street within minutes if they were quick. Marquess Laus would demand that they handle the situation before Cecily conjures her next move, though he grossly underestimated Cecily's resourcefulness within her home city.

As she predicted, the sound of horseshoe on stone echoed behind her. At least she did not have to have Theodore detain any of them: it would have wasted even more time to deal with a tussle. The Sir Knight and Rugged-Big-Guy both seemed like able combatants too; thankfully, their gesture of assistance would make the trip easier (at least, for the Sir Knight, whom Cecily vaguely remembered from a sparring tournament several years ago).

As for the mercenary, Cecily of course had reservations about his real reason for coming along. He would be paid handsomely for her capture, after all; his aggression against a city guardsman would also be overlooked for his service to the march. Out of her three acquaintances, Kethen was the one she would keep the closest eye on.

Although Laus was indeed her home, Cecily did not spend nearly enough time on the streets to memorize the layout of the city. But she had a general idea of where everything was, given the proper landmarks. The castle guard would be stopping to investigate the sleeping city guardsmen, which should give them an extra minute to at least collect the cleric's horse.

"The nearby inn you mentioned is the Icewind Den, correct?" she asked Renata.

It was a middle-class inn, far better than the shady ones near the gates, but still an economical choice for one without a surplus of gold in one's pocket. In short, it was a safe choice to stay the night for one of the clergy.

[Alusq]

Renata only nodded at Cecily's reprimand; she obviously had no place to presume anything. Such a tricky thing, meaning to hint at her lady's intellect but instead accidentally offending her. Of course this wasn't step /one/ of the plan... That's the last slip-up out of me, she decided.
How terribly wrong she was.

"Yes, the Icewind Den," Renata confirmed the liege-lady's deduction as she hurried alongside her... but then her heart sank as she turned the corner to an alley at the side of the inn and saw what was waiting in the horse-hitching area.

"This is quite a lovely horse you have here," said a priest who stood by Renata's horse, which already looked more stupidly gaudy than she had remembered, shining white with a gilded saddle. "I am assuming you are its owner? I heard there was a sister in town, arrived several days ago."
"Why yes, Father, that's correct," Renata replied as she drew closer. "Unfortunately, I have no time to chat. Official business and all..."
"Forgive my curiosity, Sister, but why is a valkyrie in Laus?"

Renata froze. That damned valkyrie horse. She had thought that it would give her influence back when she'd taken it, the most impressive-looking horse that she could find, but it was now becoming her undoing. "I— I suppose it is strange for a valkyrie to be in town and not on the battlefield, yes. But I have no place to question orders."
"Which valkyrie regiment are you a part of, Sister? Again, curiosity: I've never met one so young. A prodigy, perchance?"
"Um— the fourth regiment, obviously. Now if you'll please step aside—"
"Do all valkyries of the fourth regiment have a '3' embossed on the saddle of their horse?"
Renata's eyes widened as she examined the horse's saddle, and sure enough there was a small number 3 on its side. She hadn't even noticed it— she'd thought that it was just decoration on the saddle. The number blended into the embellishments back then, but now it was unmistakable.
"I need to go," Renata said sternly as she took the priest's shoulder to nudge him aside. "As I said, I have—"
"... time to show me the documents confirming your summons to Laus and ownership of this animal," the priest finished, grabbing Renata in return.

Renata wriggled out of the man's grasp easily, dodging toward the horse— but she was stopped: not by the priest again, but by an impossible amount of light radiating out of a single invisible point and completely surrounding her, blinding her for a moment and forcing her to stumble to the ground. The spell was a show of force meant to intimidate, but it was no lowly man of the cloth who commanded a Divine tome.
"I do not care about your mission. You are under arrest, Sister."
"... No!" Renata cried as she righted herself and unstrapped the Lightning tome from her holstered pouch. "I refuse!" she said before opening the book and whispering the incantation. An arc of brilliant novae flashed into existence in front of her— but it was pitiful in comparison to the priest's spell. Knowing that the priest would be unimpressed, she immediately followed her spell with a kick.
The robed man knocked to the cobbles for a second, Renata's hands were already at work untying the horse, her tome tucked under an arm.
"Neigh!" The horse was free, albeït startled by the impromptu light show.

"Milady!" Renata ran out of the alley toward Cecily holding the horse by the rope that had been used to hitch it previously. "I have the hors—"
"Well, what have we here?" The priest had finally re-gained his footing, following Renata out of the alley. "A divine little band of criminals, it seems!" He chuckled and nonchalantly loosed another incantation, the light washing over the people in the streets and even knocking aside a few townspeople, many of whom immediately started panicking.

[Victor]

Roland had regained his horse and bags from an inn much less sumptuous than the Icewind Den, and he was honestly surprised to see that everything was still in its place. He tipped the stable boy well as he guided his horse out of the inn, stopping to quickly unpack his lance from its casing. He held it aloft in a parade stance, ready to join his group in top form, alerting any common man to step clear of him.

Suddenly, a blast of light erupted in the street ahead of him. Roland noticed a lone priest standing in front of his comrades.

"My Lady!" he called, lowering his lance and preparing to charge, "Give the word and I will strike this man down!"

[Rock]

Kethen simply stood with the noble as the rest of the group split for the moment to retrieve their belongings. The mercenary hated the almost sluggish way they went about running for their lives. It almost seemed as if they wanted to get caught by the guards who were no doubt hot on their heels. To make matters worse the priestess was bringing her own trouble with her.

A priest had followed her straight to them and was now poised to give them all away. He let loose with a barrage of light based attacks that forced Kethen to act as a shield for their employer. He grunted as the searing light burned against his flesh and warmed the metal armor on his shoulders. The mounted knight seemed to be eager to join the fray but asked for permission forcing the big man to step in.

He swung his large axe in a long arc that was meant to bisect the priest in one go. The man stepped back and prepared to blast the axeman with another ray of light. He was stopped short as an elbow drilled into his gut and knocked him off his feet. Kethen smiled as he straightened to his full height. He craned his neck, causing it to pop and crack. The big man prepared to swing again when a concentrated ray of light slammed into his face causing him to be temporarily blinded. On instinct he threw up a hand to cover his eyes as he let loose a string of curses.

[Lavi]

While she waited for the cleric and knight to return, Cecily heard the snap of lightning magic being used and smelled the distinct aftereffects of light magic. It was indeed unusual, which was further confirmed by the good Sister's hurried return with her horse. A valkyrie horse.

She had seen several of them during her tenure in Etruria: its immaculate mane and white hide are unmistakable. That brought up interesting questions regarding the Sister's background. The arrival of the priest within the alleyway added another to the list: who was she really? Certainly not who she appeared to be in order to be attacked by the priest. Cecily grumbled as she watched him let loose another bolt of light, causing a disturbance within the area. That would definitely draw the attention of the Lausian guards, though perhaps…

"Big one, help the good Sister deal with the man. Declare him insane or something; he cannot intrude on what is to come. If the city guardsmen arrive in time, have them assist," she waved Kethen off. "Sir Knight, come with me. I am in need of your horse and hands for something of utmost importance: troublesome rabble are the least of my concerns."

Although the knight was eager to lend his aid, Cecily needed someone more trustworthy than a sellsword or a cleric of dubious background to help her. Of course, she could have always asked Theodore but she needed his expertise to be the unseen guardian in case that things go wrong. When they arrived at the stables, a wagon was there, already prepared, with a sheet covering the traveling necessities. Cecily propped her parasol against the wagon and pulled out the rope and blanket that she requested from underneath the cloth.

"There is something missing…" she looked at Roland questioningly, though her eyes were glazed over in thought.

The woman waved him off before he could offer his opinion. "Don't. Think. Or. Speak. Same to you, Theodore."

Even though Theodore wasn't in sight, it was clear to her that the rogue would be within earshot.

A few moments passed before it clicked. "AH, OF COURSE. How could I forget a pedestal: it cannot be convincing without a pedestal. Theodore, please find me a chicken cage."

Within a minute, Theodore arrived with the small wooden cage in hand.

"Thank you and dismissed. Now…" Cecily wrapped herself in the blanket, kicking the bundle of rope towards Roland. "I am a statue being delivered to Pherae on behalf of the Church of Sanctity. Package me appropriately."

The moment those words escaped her lips, she realized that it sounded incredibly unlady-like out of context. She recalled that bondage was a thing at certain brothels and felt her cheeks warm at the thought.

"It's the only way I can get out of Laus with minimal suspicion," she added.

[Alusq]

Renata had been catching her breath as the priest advanced on Kethen ruthlessly. Finally, she loosed another lightning spell at the priest, who casually turned around as though he was expecting it. "Heretics, the both of you!" he yelled before casting another spell at Renata while Kethen was momentarily blinded.

This tussle needs to end. Now. Refusing to heed the brilliant burst of light materialising itself between her and her target, Renata drew her short sword and bashed the priest with the sword's hilt in a swift move, crying out through gritted teeth as the magic burned her. If she had not had the degree of magic resistance that was bog-standard amongst servants of the church, she wouldn't have tried it. The burning sensation still seemed to pierce into her soul for a second. The robed man hit his head on the cobbles as Renata pushed herself off of him and stumbled back against a wall.
She looked to Kethen, wondering what he would do: would he leave the priest stunned or finish the job and kill the man? Barely able to see the figure standing above the other figure on the ground, she blinked furiously, trying to recover her vision as quickly as possible as her retinas swam with afterimages of the blinding light.

"Heretics, the both of you!"

"I... I'm no heretic..." Renata mumbled as she dazedly looked downward. A desperate priest would say that to anyone, she vainly tried to reassure herself.

[Victor]

Roland caught the rope, hands shaking. This was not at all what he expected, nor was it befitting of him to be wrapping the Lady up in such a manner. Still, it was a direct order, and Lady Cecily seemed much snippier and demanding than most of the noblewomen he knew. Removing his gloves, Roland set to unfurling the rope and wrapping it around the 'work of art'.

"Such statuesque beauty should not be questioned," he complimented her in a joking manner, trying to ease the awkwardness of the task at hand. God, he'd never even met the woman, much less married her. One misstep could mean her honor, his honor, and possibly his head.

Roland began to wrap the rope around her slowly and deliberately, to make sure she did not feel violated or uncomfortable. His shaking hands brushed against her breast, and he flushed brightly, scrambling to apologize. He wasn't sure if she could hear him, so he continued wrapping, treading delicately along the rest of the Lady's body.

Clearing his throat, Roland stepped back from her to admire his handiwork. "Now, uh, my Lady, if you'd like to lay down in the cart? It would make the journey entirely more bearable. Can you breathe? Are you comfortable?"

[Rock]

Kethen blinked the spots from his eyes and growled. While he was blinded the girl had manage to trip up the priest again rendering him prone and at the massive man's mercy. Kethen smiled showing off his yellowing teeth. He hefted his axe in both hands and prepared to deliver the fatal attack. A gasp issued from someone in the crowd causing the mercenary to pause.

"You all saw him attack innocent bystanders as well as a member of the church." He called out. "I was sent her to hunt down a rogue priest and bring him to justice. I only thank the Blessed One that we were able to stop him before more were hurt." He turned to the fallen priest. "In the name of the church I sentence you for your crimes." His grin grew wider as the axe fell, separating head from shoulders.

He turned to the crowd and waved. "Go about your business, there is nothing more to see here!"