Sentinels and Saviors [CRP]

[Andy]

The full moon shined down on the forest outside of Traitor's End prison. Tiras, Renata, and the rebels under their command remained hidden in the shadow of the trees. Tiras hated the necessity, but the fortified prison kept trees chopped down for 100 yards around it, preventing any random brigands from sneaking up to the walls and climbing in. They were in northwest Santaruz, and the Bernese army in Tania was making the local officials tense. From what Tiras had seen, conscription was in force. Helped him rob the nutters blind at times where such deception was a viable tactic.

Clouds passed in front of the moon, doing little to hide the stars. The heretic knight squinted, focusing on the watchfires lighting the towers. Enormous blazes that kept the prisons denizens from moving without being seen. The inside of the bailey was constantly bathed in an orange glow throughout the nights. Those would be the biggest obstacle once they were inside.

From the events on the Dread Isle, Tiras had started studying Persephone, deciphering her mysteries and initiating into her mysteries. With him was Renata, his friend and confidant. She had been at his side, helping him foment his rebellion, raiding prison convoys with him. By ones and twos and fives, they'd built a considerable fellowship of dissatisfied citizens of Lycia. Some used magic, some were trained warriors, men-at-arms, or retired knights, men and women both, who'd spoken too much against the current leadership. 

But Tiras knew this was hardly a group of people large enough to win its victory in a rebellion. At most, there were sixty members of their fellowship. Their numbers were not enough. Their equipment was what they could salvage from their defeated and dead enemies. By far, Tiras was the most well-armored of the group.

Then, when reading Persephone again, it came to him: a fortress of lost souls, united in their resentment of the empire. A prison. Of course, there were likely to be criminals there, and the idea repelled the more honorable part of him, but he was more and more becoming used to making compromise.

He'd found this one, having raided several convoys headed to this location. The guards were sure to be on-edge, fearful of a shadowy force nearby, but never near enough to get rid of without emptying the fort. Tiras still hesitated, though.

"This will be a major step on the road to rebellion," Tiras stated, the wind blowing through his hair and billowing his cape. He looked to Renata, feeling the anxiety knotting in his gut. He was alone with her at this point, the rest of them in another glade. "If we strike this place, there will be no going back. Before this, we have just been a small-fry band of essentially brigands to the marquesses. But if we do this, and more importantly, if we succeed, we will have a small army. That is a lot harder to dismiss than a band of outlaws and highwaymen. Are you ready for that?"

And are you ready for that, dear Tiras? he heard Persephone speak to him. He quirked the side of his mouth Renata couldn't see into a smirk.

[Alusq]

Renata's hesitation was plain. Ever since she'd exchanged what was left of her old and battered inquisitor armour for more practical gear, she'd committed herself to a life of rebellion. Raiding convoys had become a routine after the first few, and she'd finally grown to appreciate life on the road. Her swordsmanship had never been better, to boot.

"I don't know." The whisper was swallowed by the wind, but her face said everything. She looked to the prison in the distance, as if to search for something Tiras had missed. Impossible. Tiras knew things like this far better than she did. This was no convoy; it was a fortress. The moment the rebel band set upon it, everything would change, for better or worse.

But Renata knew that they couldn't go on the way they were. Even if the whole band were to flee far away, they were all convicts and criminals in one way or another. They had to fight.

She looked back to Tiras to give him a resolute nod. "Ready as I'll ever be." She spoke a little louder this time.

[Andy]

The nervousness tightened in his gut, but he nodded, just as resolute.

"Then let's make history," he replied. They made their way to the rest of their band, giving them the signal. Tiras made his way to the edge of the trees, just inside their shadow. He donned his helm, shut the visor, and cast his spell.

Fog of Hades

From everywhere there was moisture, mist rose, thickening the air, casting a pall of fog around the entire prison. The group sprinted forwards, reaching the wall of the fortress without incident, with Tiras bringing up the last of them, more sluggish than his usual spry self. Atop the thirty foot walls, the guards wouldn't have been able to spot a thing. Tiras made his way towards the front of the group, peering around the corner to the gatehouse.

Torches lit the road up to the gate, and the guardsmen had their weapons out and at the ready. Tiras slowly drew his, the sword of Sir Adrian, careful of making too much sound. Then again, with as much clinking armor as was in their ears, Tiras was sure the guardsmen couldn't distinguish his all that well. He motioned for the quieter members of the group. The sooner those guards were dead, the sooner they could sneak in before the alarm was sounded. It was odd that it hadn't been already, but then, fog was not unusual around this area, especially at night.

It was odd that the gate wasn't entirely shut, however. Were they expecting another convoy? This late at night?

[Alusq]

Renata stayed in front of the group as they crossed the distance. Tiras's new spell was working without a hitch, it seemed. The artificial fog put her off, being a hallmark of dark sorcery and all, but she couldn't deny its usefulness. She wondered if any of the guards could tell it was unnatural. Pressed up against the wall, any hint of life she would normally have heard was drowned out by the shuffling of her comrades.

A handful of thieves sprang forth from the fog to deal with the gate guards. Soon, each had a rag in his mouth and a knife around his neck. After making sure the bodies were moved from the torchlit gates to the cover of darkness, Renata crept through the slightly open gate to see what she could see. Past the gate and a brief corridor, the prison courtyard was comprehensively lit. Though it was to be expected, it still wasn't a welcome sight. They would have to commit to storming the place.

"Well?" She heard one of her comrades grunt behind her. An amicable man, but one who made no bones about wanting to "crush some Imperial skulls". It seemed several of the other rebels were similarly impatient, as they had followed her across the threshold.

"Wait," Renata hissed. "Back! Get back!" Spying a figure turning a corner on the opposite side of the courtyard, she darted back to the other side of the gate and motioned for them to follow. She winced as they shuffled along, unsure if they would be detected.

"Tiras? Why would they leave the gate open?"

[Andy]

Tiras shook his head.

"Unsure. New convoy? They have delivered at night before," he whispered, loud as he dared. He peered into the bailey from the inner gate. The harsh orange glow would leave him night-blind if he let it. He looked up, checking for murder holes. They were there, but it didn't seem the guards on the landing above were paying any mind. Good. They haven't noticed yet.

"Everyone brace yourselves," he warned, drawing his power and focusing on the runes he remembered from Persephone.

Fog of Hades was the elementary spell of obscuration. Wide area of affect, nothing damaged, looked like real fog, and it was usually used as an escape mechanism. The greater spells of its path built on it as a foundation, becoming more powerful, enduring, damaging, and commonly, corrosive. Now, as he prepared to cast again, he went up a level from the foundation spell.

Fog of Hades - Malice

From his feet spread tendrils of a dark, oily substance as a violet and black miasma enveloped the gatehouse, spilling into the fort and infecting the rest of the previously conjured fog. Shortly, the alarm bells rang as the miasma spread and engulfed the entire prison complex. The large braziers that kept the bailey lit winked out one by one.

His band of warriors had surged in the second the dark smog had spilled out from the gatehouse, and he was sure that was why the alarms had sounded so soon. This was part of the risk, and why it was going to be hit or miss with this one. Tiras continued forwards, the oily substance, spreading in his wake. A corrosive substance, if affected all enemies of the caster, so long as the spell remained in effect. His called for Persephone again, and he felt her comforting, eldritch presence surround him like a cloak and coated the blade of his sword like a dark flame.

He found Renata amidst the panic his warriors were sewing in the ranks of the wardens. By the look of it, she'd finished him off.

"Renata, it's time to find the head warden. He should have the keys to the treasury, the armory, and the cells full of heretics," Tiras said, his voice amplified somehow in the din.

[Alusq]

"For Lycia!" The shouts began as soon as the insurgents stepped foot into the bailey. First went the excitable brigand and some of the other strong types, followed by the thieves. Renata added a shout of her own and drew her sword as she ran. Though their blood lust was frightening, Renata understood it. This was a chance to strike back against so much injustice.

With the extinguishing of the lights, things became clearer. Her eyes still used to the dark, Renata now saw the guards converging on some sort of barracks, the fighters working to block their advance while the thieves attacked and searched the wardens. She leaped into action to take one down, trusting her comrades to handle the others. She wondered if her attempts to drill some of them on sword techniques in the past week had made any difference.

"Right!" She had to shout back at Tiras over the chaos. "Do you suppose he's in there?" She motioned to the barracks as more guards arrived to challenge the brigands, who by now had broken their defensive line into a frenzied mob. Renata wondered how many soldiers could possibly be garrisoned in a prison.

[Andy]

"Worth a shot," Tiras nodded, approaching the battle. His steps felt... heavy. The soldiers were panicking in the supernatural darkness, easier prey for his warriors. Renata's lessons had helped them, he saw. He noticed some of them take up spears or axes, or maces. The knight looked deeper into the complex, and found a nest of more wardens. Just as they noticed him and his dark sword, the rest of his warriors broke through, and both sides charged at each other.

Tiras held back, studying the battlefield. Cells were everywhere. Each was crowded with prisoners. He counted two cells on each wall, each one packed with prisoners. He smiled. This was exactly what he'd hoped for. A confusing fog, unwary guards, and many recruits. His plan was coming together well.

He leapt into combat with gusto, arriving to fight alongside his men. He struck at a well-armored guardsman, and when he was blocked, the knight swam his arm around his opponent's sword, clutched at his hand on the grip, and at his panic, bashed him in the helm with his pommel. The guard went down like a sack of potatoes. He found another guard battling (and rather bafflingly, succeeding at) fighting two of the insurgent rebels. Tiras approached the three, and the man's spearhead swung mere inches in front of him. Unaware of the distraction Tiras was being, one of the men charged, his sword catching the guard in the back of his thigh. At his pained scream, the other man bashed his helm in with his war hammer.

Suddenly, Tiras saw a bright light. And then another bloomed, pillars of light rising into the sky. There was a magic-user among them. He backed out of the front lines, and sheathed his sword. He brought out his tome, flipping to the appropriate page. The shining light nearly left him night blind, but he had looked away just in time. He could always see the pages of Persephone.

The servant of the church found him first, warily creeping through his black fog.

"So, it was you that made this fog."

"I? Surely you jest," Tiras said sardonically, as if he were but a lost knight out for a stroll.

"I've read of the heresies your kind are capable of. Don't pretend you don't know what you did," the man said. Upon closer inspection, it was a member of the Church of the Preservation. He couldn't have been very highly ranked to have wound up here. Or, perhaps there was another reason for his presence? "And I can see the spirit swirling around you, Heretic. Its kind allow for the use of the dark heresies, much like this accursed fog."

"Then you should know: you are doomed," Tiras said.

In response, a shining pillar leapt up from the man, and fell from heaven upon Tiras. He felt Persephone shriek in pain, but read the incantation for his own spell. He conjured an orb of darkness, sent it into the shadows on the ground, to rise and strike the monk of the false church. It didn't seem to do much, though the man grimaced a little. The knight grimaced under his helm, shaking himself. He really hated Light magic.

Didn't Renata have a tome?

[Alusq]

Renata's tome nearly fell apart as she opened it. Not only had it been through a lot; she hadn't been using it much. Better not to give her comrades reason to be suspicious of her, the church being the enemy and all. But if ever there were a time to use it, it was now. She spoke the incantation with great prejudice as she aimed square at the clergyman's head. It wouldn't hurt him much, but it would catch him off guard.

"The only heretic here is you!" She couldn't help but shout an indictment before charging with sword bared. Her words dripped with newly-rekindled hate. She was going to kill this man.

The man of the cloth, however, found time to react while Renata had been busy posturing. The flash of light now blinding him was but a spark to his spell's supernova. His composure remained steady as he commanded another pillar of searing light to fall upon Renata. What he did not expect was that she would continue charging. A cry escaped him as Renata's sword plunged into him, though he managed to stagger back and save himself from her follow-up. Renata had no choice but to disengage as another pillar of light impaled the ground between them.

"To me! Guards, to me!" The monk shouted, mostly in vain, as he now understood he was in danger. One guard attempted to run to his aid, but was stopped by an axe sailing into his back. Another came from the opposite direction, but was blinded by the monk's own attacks as an approaching brigand was blasted away.

Somewhere along the line, a third chorus of shouting had been added to the mix of the guards' and the rebels'. The prisoners were eager for freedom.

[Andy]

Tiras let the man become fascinated with Renata. He put away the tome and agained pulled Sir Adrian's... his sword out. He whispered for Persephone again, and her blessing enveloped his sword again. He heard the man begging the wardens for aid, but no one could reach him in time. Not without something happening. He ran behind the church man, and as he was bringing a spell down upon Tiras, the knight thrust, impaling the man through the abdomen. Tiras enveloped in a swirling light, and thinking quickly shielded himself from the divine bolt by raising the man overhead. The man took the brunt of it for him, and Tiras threw the dying man off his sword quickly.

"LET THEM COME!" rang out a booming shout. It was more difficult to hear than normal, but even amidst the battle he could hear the voice. "LET THEM ALL COME AT ME! I WILL BREAK YOU ON MY ARMOR LIKE WAVES UPON A ROCK! UNTIL I FALL NO ONE WILL CONQUER THIS PRISON! SO COME AT ME, YOU DOGS!"

From his vantage point, he could only tell where the shout was coming from. It was a defensible position, but out of sight in his fog, though he doubted the moonlight could tell him much more. The wardens were falling back to that position, anyway. The nearby rebels were either finishing off their foes, milling around Tiras, unsuccessfully trying to break the locks, and drifting towards the direction of the wardens.

"Well, nice of them to invite us to kill them," Tiras said, shrugging. He looked for Renata in the gloom.

"You alright?"

[Alusq]

"I'll be fine," Renata answered. I should be the one asking him that. Failing to find any keys on an investigation of the priest's corpse, she stowed his tome. She probably wouldn't be able to use it, but it felt just not to let a preacher of the false church die clinging to undefiled verse.

"Hear that, boys?" Another voice shouted from the ranks of the rebels. "Someone's got a death wish!" They rallied and charged in the direction of the booming voice.

"Oy, girl!" A third shout, this time from the cells. "What are you waiting for? Just pick it!" The prisoner was pointing to the lock around the bars.

"We don't have picks." Renata sighed. Even thieves mistook her for a thief, apparently. She sprang up from where she'd knelt, wincing as the world dimmed a bit. Perhaps she'd underestimated the magic. No matter. "They'll be alright," she said of the fighters, mostly to reassure herself. Tiras already knew how absolute their advantage was; now the important thing was to finish their takeover of the prison in a timely manner. "Wherever they keep the keys, we've got to find them! Come on!"

[Andy]

Tiras nodded at Renata's reply, though he felt some aches and pains from that church magician. If only he'd managed to find a healer among all the people they'd rescued. Alas, though, Providence had not been kind there. Out of everyone, there was one herbalist, and he knew no magic of any kind, nor even the process by which to make a vulnerary. And if there were any more Church goons skulking about, odds are they were healers, monks, or both. If only he could press one of them into his service. That would make their operations much easier.

He shook his helmed head, chiding himself for thinking such things mid-battle.

The shouts were still audible, but he was also starting to hear pained cries. Tiras sheathed his sword, grabbing up a ranseur from the grasp of a corpse. The eight-foot winged spear would be an excellent weapon against someone in the kind of armor he was expecting.

He turned the corner and found what he was seeking. A man dressed in heavy armor, with a heavy sword in hand. He was expertly switching from using it as a sword to using it as a half-spear to pierce his opponents. His attendants also had heavy armor, though it was concentrated on their upper bodies. Their legs were almost completely un-armored. The lead man had lost his helm, but only fought the fiercer for it, losing none of his edge. He was an older fellow, with a hooked nose and pale hair (the exact shade of which was not discernable in the gloom). At their feet were six dead fellows. One of theirs, and five of his. Four men and a woman.

"Back off," Tiras told his men, hefting his spear. "I will take care of this Imperial slime, myself."

"IF YOU COME AT ME, COME AT ME THEN! BUT THIS IS NO DUEL, WHELP! MY COMRADES FIGHT BESIDE ME!" he blustered at him. He hefted his sword menacingly.

"So they do," Tiras said, fingering Persephone. He whispered the incantation, silent on the battlefield under the shouts of everyone. The orb of dark power formed over his head, and it took a moment for the opposing men to react. Tiras sent the orb forward and along the ground, like a moving shadow in the gloom of night and fog. It sped at the man to the left of Tiras's opponent. He didn't dodge in time, and the orb rose around him and blasted him with its power. The knight jabbed at the elite guardsman's leg, raising the shaft of his spear overhead to prevent a higher strike.

The spear found purchase in the thigh, while the man screamed in pain. Tiras pulled back, and was hit suddenly by a blast of cutting wind.

"HERETIC! I SHALL END YOUR TREACHEROUS LIFE HERE, BEFORE YOU CAN LEAD ANY MORE ASTRAY!"

Tiras groaned. Of course this apparently fanatical bastard had a rare magic sword. Now the damn thing was glowing white and green. He'd heard of blades like this. A wind sword, sometimes called a storm blade. Fantastic.

Now there were just the knight and his commander left of the garrison. Everyone else had either been subdued or killed. The accompanying elite with the half-plate was wielding a polehammer.

[Alusq]

Renata, after taking stock of the situation, opted to rush deeper into the prison complex rather than rejoin the fight. With the wind sword involved— wait, wouldn't they consider that heretical as well?— Tiras's physical strength and dark magic was all that was needed. Down, down the hall she went, through one corridor and another, until the clammy void of the complex finally gave way to candlelight.

"Greetings." The robed man sat before a table in the small office, entirely unbothered by the commotion. In front of him was a tea cup, to his side a stack of record books, and behind him a wall-mounted rack holding several rings of keys.

"Stand and fight, bastard," Renata snarled, baring her sword. Whatever this trick was, she wouldn't fall for it.

"Shame," the man murmured, barely audible over the sound of beads hitting the floor. A prayer necklace. He slowly rose from his chair. "Seems my time has come after all."

"In nomas sanktai!" Renata shouted the ecclesiastical rallying cry as her sword rent the neck of the man running at her baring nothing but fists. His only weapon was guilt. She heard him whispering as she rushed forth to claim the keys, each ring large enough to slide onto her wrist, and pretended not to hear the customary response to her verse as she stepped over his bleeding body to return whence she came.

Soon, Renata was back in front of a prison door. "Now is the beginning of our glorious struggle!" She began to shout at the prisoners as she fumbled with the keys. She had to give them direction lest they all escape into the night. "Together, we shall bring justice to the Empire!" Finally, one of the keys fit, and the first prison door opened in what seemed like a deluge.

"She actually did it!" One of the prisoners immediately began to shout over Renata! "We're free! We're—" However, he was almost immediately trampled by other prisoners eager to escape the cell.

"Wait!" Renata yelled. "Stay with us! We must seize the prison! For justice! For Lycia!" She had no hope of controlling the dozen or so men already barreling towards the exit, and towards Tiras's fight. Perhaps it would have been wiser to wait on unlocking the cells until the situation was under control, but already every other occupied cell was competing for her attention with shouts to let them free.

[Swift_Assassin]

THREE DAYS EARLIER

A convoy delivering new prisoners was outside of Traitor's End prison. While most of the prisoners was in a cell, they dragged a single prisoner behind them. Bare-chested with multiple scars, both new and old; extensive bruising, hands cuffed in front of him struggling to keep up with the horse drawn carriage. His face was bruised, left eye swollen shut. Secured to his back was a sword that no one there could touch. They secured it to the mans back for transport, knowing full well he couldn't reach the sword, shackled as he was. They made their way to the center of the prison and the man was knocked down to his knees with multiple weapons place around his neck.

The warden came before him, he assumed. He had a smug look on his face. Some men with tongs took the sword of his back and before the man could see what happened to it, the warden knocked him out. The next thing he knew he was in a cell with other prisoners. Once he was able to get back to his feet, he began biding his time. Though his hands were still shackled, he jumped up and grabbed the top of the cell to work out. He wasn't about to let this disgrace repeat itself.

PRESENT DAY

Lennox was sleeping when the attack began. The swelling in his left eye let up a bit, so he can see better, but the guards took turns in beating him up. Apparently angered at their friends that died to Dyrnwyn. He woke up to seeing the prisoners in his cell running out of the gate. He jumped up to his feet and walked over to the person who opened the gate. "My hands are still bound, can you....Renata?!" Lennox rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he looked over his rescuer. "Renata, that is you! I must look like a sorry sight compared to how you saw me last. Is Tiras here too?"

[Alusq]

As Renata was speechless as none other than Lennox appeared before her, she cut his binds with her sword before saying anything. "How ever did they manage to capture you?" She said the first thing that came to mind. "Never mind! We'll have time for stories later. Aye, Tiras is here. Fighting outside." She made her way to the next locked cell, trusting Lennox to follow. "Ever since the Dread Isle, we've been working towards this moment—" ... wrong key... "and no matter how small—" ... there it is... "we will make our stand against the Empire!" Her mumbling turned to more shouting as the lock opened and another flood of prisoners gushed out. It was rather alarming how many were being kept in each individual cell.

"Are you well, Lennox?" Though it was perhaps offensive to assume any of the prisoners here had been doing "well", the question was more a courtesy than anything. "No need for you to fight, yet. The prison's almost ours. Just a few corners left to search..." A few cells later, Renata had released all the prisoners in the block. If there were any more, they could wait until the prison was completely secured. She made her way back to the courtyard to check on Tiras.

[Andy]

Well, polearm to polearm, Tiras figured he'd have more trouble with the polehammer. He attacked that man first, jabbing the dark-coated spear at the man. The hammer knocked it away, but Tiras was ready for that. He let go with one hand and used the other as a swivel, quickly bringing the metal butt of the spear to bear on the knight's helm. It wasn't to be that easy, however. Polehammer blocked him, and the fanatic struck with another magic gust.

He backed up to just out of range of both of them, then cast a spell again.

Spite...

It was by no means a powerful spell. It was what it did that caught Tiras' eye. It caused a minor warp on his opponent's flesh, anything from adding a deformity to merely changing the look of the face, but whatever it did caused the target excruciating pain. That could be very distracting.

Cat lip. Tiras cast the spell and waited a few seconds, and the man dropped the hammer to start scrabbling at his helm-covered face, clawing at it with his gauntlet-covered hands. Tiras thrust his spear into one thigh, then another, watching as the ground darkened under his body in the dim light.

When the dying man's movement slowed, Tiras turned to the man with the magic sword.

"Thought the church didn't allow those," he started off, crossing his spear over his lead leg.

"Heh. You'd be right, they don't. Guess where I took this from?" the captain responded, his voice too hoarse to continue bellowing over the din. His implication was just enough to guess.

"Building a collection, I take it?"


"Perhaps. But maybe I'll take to collecting rebel heads, instead, eh? Have at you!"

The man fought hard, and well, but he was just a bit too old, and just a bit too slow to follow Tiras' movements. Tiras ended up smashing the man's head with the spearbutt once he'd gotten inside his guard. Not wearing a helm was a stupid idea on the battlefield. Tiras stabbed his spear into the downed man's head, then proceeded to search his body. He found a key, and assumed it was to the man's chambers, likely in one of the higher sections of the prison keep. The druidic knight stood, holding aloft his dark-shrouded spear.

"Victory!"

His men took up the chant. "Victory," they sang, "Victory! Huzzah! Huzzah!"

Tiras began searching for the chambers that might have belonged to the man in charge.

[Swift_Assassin]

Lennox rubbed his wrists and stretched his arms out for the first time in days. "Let's just say a bar fight got way out of control and one thing lead to another. I was lucky I was pegged more valuable living than dead." He followed her as she went about freeing the others. "I didn't really peg you as someone who'd actually go and fight against the empire. Then again, I helped lead my father's killer right to him so I guess I'm not that good at figuring people out." Then again, I was naive and just happy to have more family members in my life.

"Well, I can eat a horse. Or three. They weren't feeding me. I must've lost a bit of weight exercising on an empty stomach," He looked over his wounds, which was easier now without his arms bound in front of him. "As for this, I've been through worse. Besides, that magic bolt hurt me more than what a few meager guards can muster." Lennox was a bit busy looking over his injuries and didn't realize Renata went back out into the courtyard. He took some time looking for something to drink. He came across a flask on the ground and picked it up. He sloshed it around to make sure there was something in it and he took a swig of it. It was a whisky of some kind. "Not exactly what I was looking for, but I'll take it." He made for the courtyard, sipping from the whisky as he went.

[Alusq]

"Couldn't really have imagined myself here either," Renata admitted, making a mental note to ask Lennox about his family story later. "For some time, all we did was raid caravans with a small band. But... Well, like you said. One thing led to another." Tiras's band could no longer be called "small" by any stretch of the meaning, especially after today. How are we going to feed all these... No. That can wait. She had stepped outside just in time to be nearly deafened by victory shouts. Renata couldn't help but smile. Finally, she felt she was doing what was right.

Then she saw some of the men playing target practice with a dead body.

Renata's happiness turned to disgust in an instant. She knew it was inevitable that innocent people would be swept up into serving and dying for the Empire, but she detested from the bottom of her heart the sport that was being made. She stepped between the men and the body... and immediately regretted it.

"Watch out, Miss Renata," one of them called out playfully. "There's an Imperial cur right behind you!"
"Not to worry, lads," another bellowed. "I'll save her! Easy throw!" He raised a javelin, prepared to throw it in an arc, and the lot of them erupted in laughter. Renata felt herself scooped up as yet another man picked her up and held her aloft, shouting "Three cheers for Master Tiras! Three cheers for Miss Renata!" It was a good bit of quick thinking, she had to admit, but the festivities were getting out of hand. The man began to parade her around, and some of Renata's thieves joined in, skipping circles around her and hollering. So be it, she supposed, if it distracted them from looting.

[Andy]

Tiras found his way to the chambers of the dead captain, noticing almost immediately a worn purple coat, a threadbare, maille-laced cloak, and among a small assortment of bladed weapons, a very familiar white-hilted sword. His mind flashed back to a hulking brute with reddened eyes and a burning sword clashing with his. Blows that numbed his arms on impact. His weapon breaking in his hands. A chill of fear crept down his spine for a brief moment.

Tiras shook his head. That wasn't Lennox. Lennox hadn't ever fought him. A rage-induced shell of Lennox was the closest he had gotten.

Still, that sword is his. Lennox either is or was a prisoner here. Where were they taking all of the prisoners? Twenty and more to a single cell can't be sustainable...

Tiras went to find Renata. Perhaps she'd found Lennox somewhere in all this.

As he passed knots of his men and newly freed prisoners celebrating, he called to them, giving new orders.

"Soldiers! You've done well tonight! But our work is not yet finished. Strip the bodies of their armor, weapons, and if necessary their clothes, to outfit our new recruits! Set them neatly in a row, as if for burial. Report to me when you're done." He gave that order over and over again. Where did Renata get herself to?

[Swift_Assassin]

Lennox found his way to the courtyard as people keep running around chaotically, nursing the whisky all the while. He found the body of the warden and knelt down beside him. As much as he felt like gloating, something about the man's features disturbed him. Not the massive wound in his face. A very familiar hair color. They shared the same hair color. For most people, that's just an everyday occurrence, but Lennox hasn't met anyone outside of their family with this hair color. It could be coincidental. Maybe a common ancestor years back. Lennox pours a bit of the whisky out on the mans face.

Lennox started exploring and he, too, found his way to the captain's chambers. Lennox took s peak inside. "Ah, there you are!" He said as he noticed Dyrnwyn's distinct handle. As he walked over, he noticed two other things that caught his eye. The first was his cloak, which wasn't left behind after all. The one that really concerned him was the coat. It was a slightly different shade, but it looked like a derivative of the Hyperion purple. Why would the captain have an almost Hyperion purple coat just sitting in his office? He then started digging through some paper work and found a journal. He began reading it. Something caught his eye. An entry from when they brought him in.

'My men seemed to have apprehended a Hyperion earlier today. He wore the colors and had the signet ring. Bronze wolf and amethyst stone, just like the ring mother was left. I thought they all died a decade ago, but I have one here. I've heard reports of Shadrach Hyperion helping a town in Pharae, but I disregarded those reports. Either way, the one I have here is a mere boy. He's not responsible for something his elders did. With his list of accusations against him, I guess I'm showing him mercy by not killing him. I need to find a way to ask him about Ludwig. I want to know if he died with the rest.'

Lennox looked back at the coat and back at the journal. "Given his age...he must be the bastard of Ludwig II. Of course he got around. That whole travel the world for a year is bound to cause issues like this," Lennox commented before closing the book. He took the book with him and put on the coat. It felt weird, wearing a dead man's coat, but it was Hyperion in origin. He didn't see a signet ring in the office. Perhaps he's wearing it? "I hope you put your name in this book. The least I can do is make sure your added to the family tree." He tossed the cloak over the coat and grabbed his weapons and started heading back to the courtyard.

"Where is Tiras? I figured I'd have seen him by now."

[Alusq]

"Right! That's enough!" Renata shouted at the merrymaking thieves. "Bring me Isidro," she barked at the one who'd been carrying her a moment prior, who nodded and loped off.

Renata gestured in Tiras's general direction as Lennox returned to the courtyard and asked of the former squire's whereabouts. Tiras wasn't visible through the crowds, but the swathes of humanity blotched throughout the courtyard spoke for themselves. The ones under Tiras's command were far more smoothly obeying his orders. "I can't order them around quite like he does," she commentated. "Not yet."

"Miss Renata?" A man in patchwork armour saluted. His dark blue hair was scraggly, his face peppered by a sparse beard. Though Isidro claimed to be a former knight, he had nothing to back that up, leaving aside the fact that he fit in more with the brigands than Tiras's soldiers. But Renata had chosen to humour him, and so he was at her beck and call far more than any of the other warriors among the group.

"Sir Isidro," Renata started, "take the rogues and see to it this place is stripped of its valuables... And take along some of those brothers of yours, while you're at it. Awthing we can't pry open, we take the whole damn chest."

"At once," Isidro said with a bow. "Death to the Empire," he said jovially with a nod to Lennox, as if it were the most casual greeting ever, and then he was off.

"Brothers!" he crowed in the direction of the brigands. "Whoever finds the first gold in this stone-heap eats double!" Brigand and thief alike began to trundle back into the prison complex. Renata could only shrug at Lennox. Fortunately, the movement in the crowd was enough to reveal Tiras through it all. "Tiras!" She waved him down with a grin. She reckoned he'd be happy to see their old comrade again.