| Heartwood Logs |
2000-03-24a
| Heartwood |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
To The Circlet Warehouse
"...It was Velikii... Lord Velikii... Lord Karntu Velikii... he asked the Knights how they could let this happen... he asked the Shannon Guard how this could happen... and he killed the Shannon lordling, the young one, doing time as captain of the troops, for incompetence, sliced like a softpad would..." The ragged mercenary just shakes his head, looking across to Kori and Barris. He takes a breath and then continues, "-took them himself... threw both us an' Anwynsson's men out... and said that as an Imperial from the Imperial city, if Highgaard cannae take care of Cragside, then by all the gods he'll give this valley to Talantal..."
"...and Lord Shannon bowed his head and let tha bastard do it!"
The mercenary's words echo hollowly in the crowded commons where Benedict and Brisa wait. It's if the storm season had come early, a bitter wind slicing down from the mountains. The Fireball simply curses, "Krysta's frozen hells," while Barris Ironhand just scowls darkly.
Benedict looks at Barris with horror in his eyes. "Oh, sweet Heavens, preserve us..."
Brisa goes silent and still for a while, thinking... then she remembers herself and continues wrapping her wounded leg as she thinks. Once she's done she looks over to Barris, "I take it the Horde will be leaving town as soon as possible?"
The short mercenary frowns, "Not unless we want to end up tangling with the Noble Guard, the Imperial Coursers and Anwynsson's cronies... without the Captain, to add to that." He pauses, rubbing his chin. "Kori, get the last of our gear. I have to head up to the Hospice. Find our Imperial, and you two get us out and on the trail before Anwynsson's folks gets their loot packed first." With a black look the Fireball storms towards the barn. A few clip clops later and it is silent where she had been.
Brisa nods, "Well, I suspect we'll be no more welcome." She turns to Benedict, "Come, let's pack our companions' equipment and head for the Hospice also. We need to see if they wish to stay or go. In fact... you need to decide for yourself too, Benny. I'm afraid I must go." Brisa limps quietly and quickly towards the barn.
Benedict clenches his fists silently, his mind in turmoil. Well, Master, he thinks morosely, how much more of this world did you want me to see? Ah, Hastur, why, why? He shakes his head, taking in a deep breath. "I'll... know by the time we get to the Hospice, Brisa. I need to find the words to say it..."
Brisa smiles quietly down at Benny, "Not a problem, lad. Actually, could I ask you to go find Lame David and ask him if one of his assistants can lead us to some warehouses, immediately? And I'll do the packing."
Benedict nods, "Sure." He goes through the tavern, looking for the innkeeper...
With the door closing behind Barris, the tavern commons is deadly silent. Awaiting Brisa in the barn are but three horses. Khari, of course... and two Horde destriers. One is Captain Koromov's quiet and patient mare, the other a black gelding.
Brisa pauses long enough to pat the mare's nose lightly and murmur, "Poor lady..." before she continues her quick preparations for leaving. Fred just whuffles, and stamps one hoof in return.
Brisa packs everyone's equipment quickly -- if they don't wish to leave the city she'll just give them their packs and they can unpack as they want. She quickly saddles up, swings up onto Khari's back with a soft sigh of relief, and jog-trots around to the front of the inn, the assorted packs bouncing lightly behind the saddle.
Benedict steps out of the tavern, frowning, and heads to the open barn. "I couldn't find him anywhere, Brisa, the tavern's empty."
Brisa says, "Hmm... not a good sign. Well, here, have a hand up behind me -- mind the packs -- and we'll head for the Hospice." She swings Benny up behind her on Khari, then heads at a slow, collected canter towards the Hospice. A trot would probably sound less "military" to nervous passers-by... but would be hell on poor Benny's rear!
Benedict nods, and manages to get up onto the back of Khari, trying to be gentle about it and not flail around too much. Now that he has a moment to think, he does so... about what to do, where to go... be a good Imperial or not?
The streets are quietly empty, and if there still is trouble its' focus is the eastern shadows of Cragside. And like the ripples on a pond, that disturbance has yet to reach these streets. The cold stars sparkle above like diamond on black ice, watching over Brisa and Benedict as they arrive at the Atteran Hospice.
Brisa keeps a sharp eye out... she glances at the Hospice, looking to see if Barris' war-horse is there already. If so, she's been saved a lot of explaining. Benedict shivers slightly, glancing up the street at the Imperial temple. He hopes nobody comes out of there and sees him.
The street outside the Hospice is empty, of both horse and man.
Brisa swings a leg over Khari's neck and slides down. She glances up at Benedict, "Coming in or staying with Khari, lad?"
Benedict glances to Brisa, then looks over at the Temple again, frowning. Every journey begins with a single step... the question is only when you take that step. "I'll come in, please. I'm pretty sure Khari can take care of herself, and we'll only be inside..."
Brisa smiles, "Da, she can." She ties up the reins so they don't get in Khari's way, then limps quickly into the Hospice, looking around warily. She calls, "Roxanna?" Brisa's voice is faintly worried as she calls... where's Barris? He was coming here...
Benedict enters behind Brisa, looking around worriedly. Brisa's nervousness is infectious, as if the eeriness of the streets wasn't enough to get on the young Eye's nerves.
Roxanna steps out from the back room. She looks concerned, and holds a finger to her lips. "No need to shout. What's the news?"
Brisa looks relieved, "You're all right! Bad news, I'm afraid... has Barris Ironhand been here yet? and do you know an Imperial named Karntu Velikii? He holds the city currently, and he's planning on tossing the Horde and Anwynsson's out. I'm afraid I must go also... do you want to come or no? If so Benedict and I've packed everyone's equipment and have it with us. And we need a local guide. Is there anyone here that can be spared?"
The hospice is asleep, its roomful of patients mostly given up to the evening's rest… save perhaps the Koromov, who has just received a visitor.
Roxanna nods, pointing over to Dandelion and her friend, but pales at the mention of that name. "Velikii? Here??"
Brisa nods grimly, "He killed Lord Shannon's son -- in front of him! -took his troops, and claims he'll give the city to Talantal if the locals can't hold it peacefully. Don't ask me why Shannon didn't protest. I'm just out of this madhouse." She looks up suddenly, "The captain's awake?"
Benedict blinks. "Who's... Roxanna, just who is this Velikii? All I know is that... what the Horde told..." He shakes his head quietly.
Brisa smiles grimly at Benedict, "Why don't you and Roxanna take a moment to decide if you wish to stay or go... I must pay my respects to the captain." Brisa limps to stand quietly and politely at a bit of a distance from Barris and the captain, but where the captain can see her if she wishes to speak with her.
Roxanna looks like she'd be cussing like a fishwife if she weren't actually in the Hospice. "House Velikii is the blackest of the black. They've got a nasty reputation in Trundle, and that takes some doing. They are untrustworthy, vicious, nyeh kulturnye, unbelievers."
Benedict sighs, and closes his eyes. "Apostates," he says softly. He opens his eyes. "We need to find some way to get Dandelion and Barris out of the city."
Roxanna says, "And quite possibly Lady Maris and your Judge, as well. The Velikii do not let the Temples stand against their House."
Benedict frowns, and nods. "This is true..."
The Captain has been comfortably lain back on a cloth tick and covered with a blanket. While her eyes are closed, she seems to be listening to her second. When she replies, it is soft and quiet. "A place to winter Barris... can you make the Highgaard vales?"
Barris answers, grim. "But we'll never make it, on our own. Our best chance is to either steal a piece o the wilderness east of here... or Brementown."
Brisa looks faintly confused at Barris' words... does he mean he doesn't know the way, or it's too far for so many?
Roxanna says, "Brementown? Isn't that up the Greenway?"
Barris looks back, "Almost. Right back where the Road East splits off. I'd rather take my chance in a wilderness camp this winter."
Brisa asks slowly, "Why can't you make the Highgaard vales?"
Benedict's mind is racing. Velikii will turn this town upside down, he thinks. But... think, think, Benedict, you're a blessed Eye of Hastur, after all! Blast... Okay, why is Velikii here? Surely not for the scenery. He must have shown up at some... Oh, no. "He's here for a reason," he says abruptly and softly.
Roxanna looks grim. "We can't move her very far or fast yet."
Brisa grins quietly at Benedict, then turns back to regard the captain and Barris.
Benedict looks up at Brisa, just as she turns away. "Apostate Imperials don't just walk the countryside," he says insistently. "Something brought Velikii here; no matter how black his heart is, he came for a reason. My master always said there's no such thing as coincidence."
Roxanna says, "I'd normally disagree with you, but not in this case. Of course a Velikii would have a reason, and I'm thinking it's not one we'd be liking."
Brisa nods quietly to Benedict, "Da... but if a foaming wolf comes running at you, do you wait to see if it's thirsty or rabid? -or do you just get out of its way?"
Benedict looks to Brisa. "You try to get out of its way... unless you're carrying the bone it's after."
Brisa smiles again, "Da. Either way, you get out of its way first." To Dandelion she adds, "Well... captain, if I can be of any use to you please let me know, da?" She turns, "Roxanna, is there a local here that can be spared to be a guide for Benedict and I? We have some warehouses we must look at before we can go."
Roxanna says, "Here, now? It's the middle of a rather unpleasant night. None of the locals are here except Milady Maris, and I'm not waking her up for this."
Benedict's voice drops. "Exactly. And more importantly... we are in a lot more trouble than it appears. We need to get out of town fast, with at the very least the knowledge of whatever's in that warehouse... and maybe, for their own protection at least, Lady Maris and Judge Hawthorne. If Velikii is as vicious as Roxanna says nobody in this town is safe."
"Duffy will have to scrounge real hard then, to get us through." The Captain's whisper is hoarse. "And don't worry for me. Here I'm safe... and when I'm well, then I'll join back up. Especially if we share a small village just up the trail."
Benedict nods softly. He was thinking the exact same thing Brisa was. He feels a brief twinge of pride at that. He looks to Dandelion, a pained look on his face. "Captain, I... I don't think Velikii is all that concerned about the traditional sanctuary given here..."
Roxanna shakes her head. "I wouldn't count on it. Not for very long."
Brisa sighs, then frowns, thinking... "Roxanna, we have to swap the key for the girl at midnight. I'm thinking the best way to be sure the girl is safe is to give the key to you or lady Maris while you're here, so that they won't harm the girl or either of you... but that means it would be wisest to look at the warehouse before midnight. Do you know anyone that can help us now?"
Benedict stifles a very unpriestly but very novice-like curse. He'd almost forgotten about the girl! Blast, now there's walls on two sides: the kidnappers, and now Velikii. He remembers the odd metaphor Judge Hawthorne used. I wonder what the third edge of the rune will bring next? he thinks, before he can stop himself. He hopes, nervously, that he didn't just jinx things.
Slowly lifting her head, the Captain's eyes barely open, just a slip. "Velikii is a punk. I beat him up when he was a three foot brat, an arrogant bastard just into his teens and again when he first wore that bloody yellow and black checkerboard. Me and my sister and brother taught him to stay out of our Alley."
Roxanna says, "Shto? Captain...then you know what he's like. He won't let sanctuary stop him. We've got to get you out of here soon."
Brisa watches the captain quietly... then gives Roxanna and Benedict rueful glances, "It's good to offer the Judge, the captain, and the Lady Maris the choice to leave... but I'm guessing they're going to be like worshippers of Risha -- this is their place, and they'll want to make a stand and hold fast to it." She blinks at a sudden, odd, passing thought -- if magic doesn't work on the captain, and the captain's a Koromov from Trundle, and the Imperial Trundle families are apostate... then does that mean the gods have forsaken all those cursed family members?! She shivers at the thought.
Barris looks back, rubbing his chin. "No... not at the moment. T'ough all the warehouses, they line the north wall of the town here. Like soldiers."
Brisa nods to Barris, "Thank you, gospodin. I'll be back as soon as I can. Benedict, shall we ride? Roxanna, I'll leave the backpacks here, may I, so we can move more quickly?"
Benedict nods quickly, and looks to Brisa. "Think Khari can get us there before the Shannon Guard and Velikii?"
Brisa smiles at Benny, "We shall see."
Benedict frets slightly, then sighs, closing his eyes. "Even so... there's something to be said for living to tell the truth of a story." He opens his eyes, and nods. "I'm ready when you are. You have the key?"
Roxanna nods. "Go. They'll be safe here for now."
Brisa hastily deposits the packs in a corner of the Hospice, mounts quickly up, and gives Benny an arm up -- Khari's already wheeling swiftly off as he's pulled on. Benedict takes Brisa's hand and pulls himself up onto the back of Khari as best as he can as she gallops off to the north of the city... Brisa makes sure Benny's holding on securely, then gives Khari her head. They canter swiftly to where the ambush for the captain was... then Brisa brings Khari to a walk. "Watch careful now, lad... if you have even a hint, call out and we'll walk up on foot."
Benedict nods, and looks to the left, and to the right, and to forward and to the back... and just because his Master warned him that there are six directions, not four, he looks above and below as well. It all comes down to this... whatever training, however shallow it might have been for one so young, that he had gotten as an Eye of Hastur comes into play now. Not only is it his traditional duty now; his life and Brisa's may depend on it. Brisa watches carefully too, although her gaze is more for potential enemies.
It doesn't take long to hit the row of warehouses. They are simple buildings set right against the tall gray stone town walls. The line of warehouses stretch to the left... and to the right. Brisa heads in the direction they'd been headed with Barry -- he'd been leading them to the remaining warehouses of the lady merchant... Dove, Circlet, and Wolf. They'd already seen Hammer.
Benedict looks to the left and to the right, and mutters something most priests don't always say in front of others. "There's a lot of these things. I hope we find the lady's warehouses soon..."
Brisa says, "Da, I also, lad. Keep looking... and if you need Khari to go slower don't fear to ask."
Benedict nods, but so far thinks he can pick out the signs on the 'houses well enough. "How much time do you think we have?" he asks conversationally, narrowing his eyes, glancing over his shoulder now and then.
Clipclop clipclop, and Khari's hooves echo through the deep and thick shadows, shadows which criss-cross the road and alleyways in jagged patterns of impenetrable black. Until, finally, the bit of street begins to seem... familiar... to Benedict. He shivers, having a sudden memory of... of being a darksteel key... He self-consciously takes a breath. "Here," he says quickly. "Somewhere along here, Brisa... I remember it now..."
Brisa nods quietly, "Keep it down then, lad... we don't want to alert any nearby."
Benedict nods, and lowers his voice, keeping his eyes sharply peeled for that one warehouse, that one warehouse which would be so familiar... Brisa murmurs softly, only to Benedict, "Tap me when you see it... we'll ride a bit past and scout out the area around it before we try it, da?"
A night to end all nights. Ladyship's shadows crisscrossing as the night fell, a night which echoed with harsh hoof-beats and the clash of steel. To the lost waif, it was not a good place to be. Too much like home, like when the keep's lord came through and his guard took what they wished. Here in Cragside there was plenty to watch... the merchants and their machinations, the play of Bankorpool Knight lost in a sea of pagans. But tonight, sleeping in the alleyways was not a good thing. The guard against a mercenary horde; it made the usual intrigues even more dangerous to follow.
Like a conversation overheard...
The short one spoke, like a fat harvest pumpkin, and it was a whispered mumble, and the mumble had words like girl, key, locked away safe, and she's just some merchanter's brat.
The tall one spoke, like a rod of wheat, and he was more clear. "We win both ways. If we let them lead us to the warehouse, then we don't need the key. And we won't need the girl anymore, either."
For the badlands waif, the shadow she rested in was comfortable. The fat and the tall, they two had their own shadow, looking out into Cragside's main street. Anuje strains to hear, careful that her shifting doesn't produce any sound that could bring the unwanted attention of her audience to the unknowing performers.
Beyond the alleyway opening there is the clatter of hoofbeats. They head deeper into Cragside, vanishing quickly in the night. After a moment's pause, the two mismatched townsfolk then abandon their shadow and with silent footsteps they decide to travel farther into the town.
Anuje scrambles quickly to her feet, not wanting to miss the opportunity to perhaps help the unfortunate girl that was spoken of. She curses herself quietly, wishing she had taken that darker tunic that she had seen earlier that evening. Making haste, she begins the chase, ever careful to just seem a member of the town, and not the fox.
The two strangers haunt the darker side of the street, and their footsteps are almost as quiet as Anuje's. In the shadow of the merchant barn, in the shadow of the temples. Until they pause again, finding an alley to lurk in. They seem to be hunters... for their attention is focused on a pale gray horse, heavily packed, which stands before a small and worn hospice.
Anuje stops cold, quickly hugging the wall in the alley across the street from them, finding her own shadow to hide in and carefully peering from the corner to their own dark place. She takes a moment to tuck her purse between her belt and chrys so that it doesn't make a betraying sound, then returns her attention to the scene. Looking over the horse for a moment, she wonders if the owner is in the hospice. And the girl? In the barn, perhaps?
Anuje thinks over the overheard conversation of recent as she watches diligently. Perhaps the ones they hope to follow to the warehouse are inside? These two seem none too friendly, but are the ones they're tracking going to be any better?
The wait isn't long, and the stars above have barely moved, before two storm out of the hospice in a rush. One is a determined looking woman who carries a sword. The second is dressed in the pale blue robes of Hastur. They both mount the fog gray horse, and at a fast pace head towards the northern section of town.
In an instant, short-and-round and tall-and-thin follow. They scoot through narrow alleys, as if they have some idea of where their prey might be going.
Anuje starts at the sudden break in the quiet night and quickly makes to follow, staying to the shadows behind her prey as much as possible. She keeps a watchful eye for others who might see as well, not wanting anyone to notice her pursuit. She thinks to herself, One of them was dressed as a priest... and the other limping. I should watch more, but I think the two threatening the girl should be stopped...
The short and tall break out into a shadowed street at the very edge of town, along the northern walls. They take a step, quiet, and then vanish into the shadows caught amid a long, long line of warehouses. Another step Anuje takes, when the collar of her chrys suddenly tightens. As a brutal, cold, and even sneakier person than her lifts her off the street by the back of her neck.
Anuje chokes out a very weak cry. Her legs flail and her arms seem to as well, but one of them is seeking the dagger tucked between her belted chrys and her breeches.
Her struggles are met with a harsh slam against a wall, almost knocking her breath away. "I think I caught a rat." The voice is quiet, grim, and colder than a quarry night.
Anuje oofs, struggles interrupted and eyes wide with terror. Her left hand tries to seek out her cold knife in the dark. She resumes her struggles, using them to mask the fact that her right hand searches the front of her assailant for a tender spot in any armor he might be wearing. Upon finding it, she unceremoniously plunges the blade as deep as she can, letting out a small yell for strength.
There is the sound of cloth ripping and the blade hitting leather… but not hard, not enough to slit, more like a sudden tap and annoyance. A merebeast biting a Knight's plate armored gauntlet. Until it is Anuje's eyes that suddenly water as she is almost lifted up, the searing pain of razor-edged steel biting into her, harsh and bitter, the response to her sting dug deep into her own belly.
Anuje cries out, dropping her knife with a clatter and gripping at the blade in her gut. What insanity propelled her away from her home? Being married to an idiot is far preferable to such a painful death!
Clipclop clipclop and in the shadows of the warehouses they ride.
Brisa frowns... too much darkness here. She murmurs softly, "Some help here please, bright sisters?" and sends the little spark ahead of them in long, glowing swoops, to light their way. Benedict glances to either side... then stiffens. He taps Brisa's shoulder, silently, though, and tries not to look again at the sign he saw... Brisa nods quietly at the tap, doesn't look, and just keeps going... although now she's watching very carefully for potential ambushers. Khari's ears flicker, this time to the side, where from a narrow alley a bitter, sharp scream echoes out. Short, cut off, and definitely in pain.
Benedict looks up sharply, suppressing a shudder. Oh, no... not again...!
Brisa's head snaps around, and the little spark of light flashes swiftly over that way. She drops her reins, pulling her bow and an arrow, and nocking it smoothly. Khari responds to kneed commands and wheels to give Brisa a broadside into the alley, as Brisa murmurs quietly, "Hold on tightly to the cantle, the back of the saddle, lad... Khari may have to jump swiftly."
Down the alley the little star dashes. And caught in silhouette is a grisly scene, so reminiscent of the night before. A tall man in a rich heavy cloak holds a lad by the scruff of his neck, slowly withdrawing a dagger from the boy's gullet. A tall one, in a cloak. Somehow familiar. His head jerks around at the star's arrival, and with a smashing and arrogant toss of his arm he slams his prey away against a building wall.
Benedict grasps the cantle tightly, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight, holding on to the saddle for dear life, and to the man's image for equal life.
The arrow flies, sharp and true. Straight it seems, towards the brigand's leg. Except that between Brisa and his leg is a barrel. Thunk, The brigand turns, curses and runs. Anuje is curled up in ball, clutching the wound and shivering.
Brisa knees Khari into the alleyway at a gallop, and tries to get another arrow off before they hit the brigand... hard and painfully, she hopes. Attacking children...!
Benedict, quite against Brisa's suggestion, does a quick and likely stupid consideration. If Khari happens to get close enough and fast enough, he'll try jumping off of Khari to bodily tackle the 'two-legged wolf,' as Judge Hawthorne said. No such thing as coincidence. The monster's here for a reason...
The alley is narrow, tight, and there is no way to run but away. Brisa's arrow skitters off the side wall, falling harmlessly to the ground. The brigand runs, and his victim lies in the alley dirt. Then the brigand breaks into the street, and Khari thunders past him. He nimbly sidesteps and darts to the side, seeking another alley in which to hide.
Brisa whirls Khari to pursue, knocking and firing another arrow, and knees Khari to dart ahead of the brigand, cutting off his escape... there are advantages to being mounted against foot.
It is easy for Khari to curve in front of the brigand because he stops short, his hands desperately reaching for his throat. He chokes on the arrow driven through his neck. His dagger falls to the side as his head turns up; he falls to his knees and just slowly topples over.
Brisa leaps off of Khari, then swears colorfully, swaying and hanging onto the saddle for a moment as she is shockingly reminded of her wounded leg... through gritted teeth she says, "Benedict, I'm going to throw the body across the saddle, and we'll go back for the boy as quickly as possible... you'll have to hold them, da?" She limps hastily over to the body, sword cautiously in hand and Khari trailing behind.
Benedict nods quickly, offering Brisa his arm up and getting ready to hold on to the body...
Brisa unceremoniously tosses the body across the saddle, glancing around warily, "Got him, lad? Now the boy..." She grabs a handful of mane to help her walk more smoothly, and heads back down the alley as quickly as she can with Khari's support. The little star whisks on ahead, to hover quivering over the small crumpled form. Brisa kneels next to the boy, looking very worried, "Bozhemoi... Benny, can you heal at all?" She looks around warily.
Benedict scrambles off of the horse, and kneels beside the boy, shaking his head. "I'll... I can only do what I can, Brisa... Hastur's not a god of healing..." The cleric's touch and whispered prayer seals the wound, the blood heavy on the shorn tunic. The stray's chest rises, a breath suddenly caught, and eyes open just a bit, halfway.
Brisa breathes out slowly, in relief... then swiftly does a quick search for weapons on the bo- um... goodness... girl?!
Anuje squeaks, "...hey!" She coughs.
Brisa murmurs softly, "Easy there... ye're not healed yet, la- uh, lad... we need to get you to the hospice. Relax now... I'm going to move you."
Benedict lets out a breath. "Thank the gods," he murmurs. "He'll... er... er... ER?!" Benedict blinks. "Oh, dear... uhm... right, ah, we need to do that. Soon." He looks up and around. "Brisa... I'm going to try the door..."
Brisa will try, as carefully as she can, to gather up the girl without hurting her too badly. She grins quietly at Benedict, "With what, lad? There're still two more out there... did you not recognize our dead man?" She nods at Khari's grisly burden, "Here, toss the man down on the ground. He can stay here for all I care. Assassin." She spits the last word out with contempt.
Anuje nods. "Yes... I was following them... he cough...he jumped me."
Benedict grimaces, and nods, quietly. Brisa shakes her head at the girl, looking suddenly worried, "What's your name, lass?" She carefully slides the girl into the saddle.
Anuje sways a little and grabs for the pommel with blood-sticky hands. "Hh... Anuje."
Brisa looks quite relieved, "Not Elise? Good... hang on, girl, we've got a bit of street to cover, da?"
Anuje blinks. "Elise? Is that the girl they took?"
Benedict blinks to Anuje. "You know about that...?"
Brisa puts Benny up behind Anuje, with instructions to hold her on very carefully. She slings her gorytus across her shoulder, then freezes in midmove... she turns and looks at Anuje carefully, "Yes, actually. Do you know where she is?"
Anuje bites her lip, thinking. "They didn't say... but I know where they were when they were talking about it." She pauses a moment, looking around. "I think I know where I was... it was a fast chase." She wipes her hands on her tattered chrys.
Benedict says, "Do you think we have time, Brisa?"
Brisa frowns, thinking... "Maybe, Benny... all right. One thing at a time. First let's do a little cleanup." She drops to one knee and checks the assassin's body for anything useful... she hands the cloak up to Anuje, "Here, use this and stay warm," then pauses only long enough to face Khari (and by extension Benedict and Anuje) away from her, in the direction they'll be going. Then she quickly gathers up her arrows, even yanking free the ones in the barrel and the assassin's throat. They'll be disposed of somewhere where their fletching can't incriminate her.
Anuje feels carefully at her belly for the wound. "...thank you." She graciously accepts the cloak and wraps it around her shoulders. "Thank you... lady?"
The assassin's body reveals little. A purse with no coins in it, just little files and metal hooks. A second dagger. A purse with a large but very simple key. And a pendant made from a loop of leather and a penny with a hole punched through the center.
Anuje notices the dagger, and incidentally the hooks, but makes nothing of it out loud, delighting in her mind and hoping the lady doesn't drop them as junk. "My dagger is here somewhere..."
Benedict is still a bit stunned that the victim of the attack is a young girl. He waits patiently for Brisa to finish her searching. He glances over his shoulder, frowning nervously, trying to keep an eye on all six directions.
Brisa grins up at Anuje, "Eh, no lady I, child... just Brisa, and you're so comfortably seated on my good friend Khari. That's Benedict, an Eye of Hastur, holding you there." Brisa holds up the second dagger, "This yours?" She flips it in her fingers lightly, testing it.
Anuje looks appreciatively at the horse and twists a little to look at Benedict, regretting it instantly. She hisses slightly and grabs the pommel. She shakes her head at the dagger. "Probably better than mine, though. Might be too big for me."
Benedict smiles a bit to Anuje, nodding, then goes back to watching and hoping the assassin didn't have his friends nearby.
Brisa nods thoughtfully, "Well... an assassin. We should keep moving." She leaves the pendant, but keeps the daggers and purses, tucking them in a saddlebag behind Benny's leg. "Now then... let's try it, Benny, shall we? Lass, keep a wise eye out with us... we have two more potential assassins lurking." She leads Khari (well, actually leans heavily on Khari) back to the warehouse. She glances at the sign by the door, curious as to its name.
Benedict leads his two companions back to a smaller warehouse, one with a circle of stars painted on the large door. Barnsized, it looks to slide to the left, and at it's hasp is a very thick, featureless cylinder of black metal. Featureless save for a small slot on the cylinder's top.
Anuje says, "One is large and round and the other is tall and thin like a sapling."
Benedict nods, slipping from Khari's back, "That sounds familiar," he notes idly.
Anuje says, "They were counting on you leading them here..." She looks around, trying to see a sign of them. Now that Anuje's gender is apparent, it is likely that she is older than she seemed if she were really male, but not by a lot.
There, at the edge of the light, a fat shadow is cast, and a long one. They hulk in the hidden niches in the warehouse row. And they obviously seem more content in watching than ambushing.
Brisa nods, looking around warily, "The pumpkin and the sapling, yes..." She lays an arrow across her bow, then reaches down her shirt and pulls out the key. She hands it to Benedict, "Would you do the honors, gospodin? Just lead Khari right on in... Anuje, be sure to hang on to the pommel, da? I'll follow you all in last." She debates firing an arrow... then decides better to know where the enemy is... for now. "Go, quick."
Benedict nods slowly, not looking at the enemy. He quickly unlocks the warehouse door, and steps inside, leading Khari. Brisa backs in after Benedict, then quickly pulls the door shut behind them. Then she turns and her little spark rises, whirling, to light up the warehouse... what could possibly cause so much death? she wonders.
Anuje hangs onto the pommel, wondering why she suddenly feels exposed sitting so high in the air. She instinctively ducks her head as they pass through the door.
As the key is inserted, it splits in half. A little pin drops out and it releases its hidden catches, freeing the great door. With a ragged rumble the door is easily drawn aside. And inside... inside the warehouse opens into a major staging hall. An open space, stairs lead up to a loft to the right and a row of columns lead back towards the shadows. beyond the walls tighten to a central aisle. And from the aisle comes a whuffle and stomp and the strong scent of horses. But more, for in the aisle and in the open space there ate three large carts. Sturdy, made for caravan traveling, which is covered by a canvas tarp, and the tarps seem to be covering some very large boxes.
Brisa murmurs softly, "Oh my... umm... can either of you drive a hitch?"
Benedict looks around, frowning slightly at the sight. He blinks to Brisa. "Er... drive a hitch?"
Brisa walks in slowly, after pulling the door securely shut and locked behind them, and lifts one of the tarps curiously, "A hitch? A horse-drawn wagon? A hitch of horses?"
Anuje shakes her head. "I could make a hitch."
Sending the bright star down the aisle reveals eight stalls, and six sturdy draft horses. Their ears perk, and they stomp, and they look both hungry and thirsty. Anuje looks around at the horses as the light reveals them. "Why do you need to move the carts?"
Brisa grins at Anuje, "Not quite what we need here, kisa. Oh my... those poor horses!" She looks around for water and feed. "Actually, Anuje, I'm thinking moving the carts wouldn't be wise... tough to dodge followers. I'd like to see what's here though, so we can try to figure out who it truly belongs to."
The first stable is a makeshift tack room. It contains sacks of grain... and barrels of water.
Brisa says, "Yes!" She immediately starts rolling out a barrel of water, "Benny, lad, give me a hand here for these poor horses, would you please? Anuje, are you all right up there for a bit?"
Anuje looks down at the horse. "She won't move, right?"
Benedict nods slowly, "We should find out what's here that have made people so eager to kill. Oh!" He nods quickly, and goes over to Brisa. However, he does say, "You do know that there are two killers still outside, watching? And that it's likely that they're the ones who have the girl?"
Beneath the tarp Brisa had spied three wooden crates, each a little larger than a coffin. The wood was polished, and fitted with dark metal gussets and reinforcing bands, and each crate was locked with a flat round padlock. The padlock had no keyhole, just three irregularly shaped slots.
Brisa says, "She'll be rock steady under you, Anuje, just sit tight, tovarish. Benny, we did the best we could -- we locked the door behind us -- and these horses must be cared for. They've probably not had a drink since we arrived." She'll hastily feed and water the poor horses. She's careful not to over feed, and gives them the water slowly.
Benedict helps Brisa, but even as he helps her water and feed the horses, the minutes seem to flow like seconds in his mind, and some imagined tidal wave of retribution and slaughter lorded over by a yellow-and-black checkerboard brute is sweeping over the town. This is where it all comes down, he things, setting some meal for one of the horses. The key, the killers, and the Apostate Imperial who showed up today... somewhere in this warehouse...
Brisa straightens when all the horses are contentedly munching on grain, with a soft whew! and wipes her forehead. "Much better. Thank you, Benny. Now... let's see, finally, what all the troubles were for." She stalks determinedly out to the wagons, and flips back all the tarps, looking to see if all the boxes are the same or if there's a convenient key ring or somesuch. "Anybody have any ideas on how to open these?"
Anuje shifts in the saddle, leaning a little to try and get a better look. "Uhm...I might..."
Benedict says, "I'm afraid I've never seen anything like them before in my life, Brisa, as short as it may be. And I can't pick locks all that well." He blinks and glances, slowly, over to Anuje.
Brisa says, "I really don't want to break anything... eh?" She gives Anuje a curious... then a more thoughtful look, "Realleeeee..." She pauses, thinking for a long moment... then nods briskly, "Well then, you should try." She whistles softly, wiggling her fingers at Khari, who moves over and gets an ear rub, "Would you like a hand down onto the wagon, or what?"
Each wagon carries three large crates, each steel bound and with similar arcane padlocks. A further search reveals a few other tidbits. A small chest containing clothes; those of a man, those of a young girl. Several casks of rations and supplies. And a polished wooden box with a single narrow slot near one end.
Brisa says, "Aha... now how does this open, I wonder..."
Anuje glances down to the wagon and chews her lip. "I think I can do it..." She leans over until her foot seems securely placed on the wagon's edge and then holds onto the pommel as she slips her other leg off from over the saddle. Brisa stands to offer a hand if needed. Anuje steadies herself a moment on Khari's saddle and then moves over to look at the locks. "Do you have those picks?" She adds, "...Brisa."
Brisa grins quietly, and produces them and the other gathered stuff from her saddlebag, "Here... you're welcome to the assassin's equipment. Seems only just. But please... try to use it more for good than he did, da?" Brisa keeps only the large key... with a small, whispered prayer that this will hopefully open the room of the poor hostage girl. She glances over at Benedict, "You keep that key close and safe now, tovarish, da?" then adds, "Try the small chest first, maybe, Anuje?"
Anuje nods solemnly at Brisa's admonition. She takes the picks and selects one as she kneels down in front of the smallest chest. Holding her breath and pursing her lips, she attempts to pick the lock... as the pick slips into the little box Anuje starts, feeling the power bite her, green sparks suddenly cascading out in a hot and vicious spray.
Brisa starts, then practically leaps up onto the wagon to yank Anuje unceremoniously away from the box. "Anuje! Are you all right?!"
Anuje yelps at the shock and gasps. She catches her breath after she's yanked free. "...uh... y-yeah... thanks."
Brisa sighs in relief, "Bozhemoi! Don't scare me like that -- I thought you were fried for sure!" She pauses, then frowns at the small chest. "Well... you're our local expert, kisa. Do you want to try again, or try something else?"
Anuje shakes the fingers of her buzzing hand. "I thought I'd had it... I could feel it." She looks at the box. "Try the lid? I might have gotten it." She catches Brisa's arm, though. "Be careful." Brisa nods... then quickly reaches out and flips the lid with her fingertips, to see if it will open.
The box is cool, cold and closed.
Anuje glances at Benedict. "A magic trap? Do you think it will spring a second time?"
Brisa shakes her head, looking grim, "This cargo has caused too many deaths already. I'm strongly tempted to just swap the key for the girl. That way at least one life will be saved." She sighs, rubbing her forehead, "All right... why don't you try it one last time, Anuje, and if it doesn't work... to the darkness with it."
Benedict frowns slightly. "A trap... frankly, Brisa, I'd be surprised if they weren't trapped somehow..."
Brisa says, "This one was. But if it's holding the keys we needn't fear traps on the others."
Anuje bites her lip and nods. She tears a piece of cloth from a dry part of her chrys and uses it to hold the pick. As careful as she can, she tries again...
Benedict frowns even deeper, and nods. "Depending on how important it is...it might very well have a trap that resets itself...
This time the pick goes flying from Anuje's hand, skittering against the wall of a stall. For a long set of heartbeats, Anuje is just stunned.
Brisa shakes her head and picks the stunned Anuje up, "That's it. This cargo is cursed, and I want no more part of it. We've got wounded, we're in hostile territory, and we've got a hostage... let's get out of here, and try to get back to the hospice undamaged... any more than we are already."
Anuje picks up the other picks and makes her way across the barn to get the one that departed her hand so quickly.
Brisa gets a faintly disgusted look... but waves Anuje off a bit, then draws her sword... she looks very unhappy. She rolls her eyes upwards, mutters, "Sorry... it's for a good cause, da?" under her breath... then chops the chest with a quick, powerful blow.
Anuje hopes there isn't some vials of noxious poison in there, waiting to be burst in such a fashion. She covers her mouth and nose. She regards Khari and covers her nose, too.
Brisa's sword strikes down, hitting the little box. The force of the blow sends it skittering, and Brisa's arms reverberate, as if she just hit a plate of steel.
Brisa says, "Tov yo mat!" She shakes her head angrily, "This is absurd. For this I am not willing to die, or sacrifice more friends... I am thinking now is time to go, and to the darkness with the pumpkin and the sapling, and this cargo with them!"
Anuje blinks, lowering her hands. "It's a good thing it doesn't have a sword of its own..."
Brisa kicks the chest back to where it was previously, sheathes her sword, and slides off the wagon, muttering angrily to herself under her breath. "Come, kisa, I give you lift up onto Khari. We go."
Anuje looks around. Are there other exits or was there just the one? Hmm... even looking upstairs, Anuje spies only one exit. Anuje smiles a little. "Brisa...was there a matching keyhole on the inside of the doors...?"
Brisa grumbles, "This cargo came on an Eastern wind... what do you mean, Anuje?"
Anuje hmms. "We could... leave and forget to lock it again... we know they want what is in here... I could circle back and lock them in!"
Brisa blinks slowly at Anuje... then grins... then laughs, tossing her head back in delight, "What a perfectly wonderful idea! Kisa, you're brilliant!"
Anuje grins. "Should we let the horses out first?"
Brisa grins, "Oh, certainly! Come, let's make a pack line of them, mount up and go... we can even grouse about what a waste of time the trip was, and that we're taking the horses as the only thing of value here!"
Anuje looks through the clothing for a chrys to replace hers. She finds several tunics and chrys that would fit the bill. Most are much more fine than the one she currently wears.
Brisa moves quickly amongst the horses, haltering them and putting lead ropes on them all, then tying the lead ropes together so she can lead them all easily from Khari's back. She leads them all out of their stalls so she can put Benedict and Anuje on one of the horses. Carthorses are calm and have nice, broad backs... they'll be easy to ride, and lead. She glances up at Anuje, "Kisa, remember the girl that owns those is still alive, and will want them back, da?"
Anuje nods and smiles. "Yes..." She changes into the other chrys and checks to make sure her corset is tight again. She pauses a moment. "Yes... okay. Maybe she will be grateful, though?"
Brisa smiles, "Perhaps, tovarish... but let's not press our luck, da? Here, let me get you and Benedict mounted up."
It is well past the middle of the night as Brisa leads the string of horses and her companions out. This late, the silence is heavy, lying over the town like a blanket. Brisa yanks the door savagely shut behind the horses, then turns to stalk back to Khari, bristling with anger, "I have never been on such a fool's chase in my life! I'll be damned if I risk another friend on this... they're welcome to the stupid warehouse, and to the darkness with them all! The girl can make do with the horses, when we find her -- it's the only thing of worth in there..." Her grumbling continues unabated as she mounts up, collects up the lead rope, and starts the small herd walking away...
Brisa continues to snap and snarl about it as she leaves... then a few streets down she draws Khari to a halt, dismounts, pats Benedict's knee encouragingly, "Shout if there's any problem, lad, all right? And stick with Khari... she'll take care of you," then slips quietly and stealthily back to where she left Anuje.
The horses clip clop down the narrow alleyways, as Brisa leaves Anuje to her post. And yes, from her shadow she sees the warehouse investigated, sought for, and claimed. Indeed, a short and round shadow slow-draws open the door to sneak inside. But only, but only him...