NationStates Jolt Archive

The OOC thread is here (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=528436): if you wish to join, do so there.
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~ Some said it was a Golden Age: a period of peace and growth, where the constant wars were finally silenced, and the land of Halien could continue in peace. They said that the Arnan Kingdom would rule forever, and with its rule would be an end to crime, poverty, and the evils that plagued mankind. They said that time's could have never been better.

Of course, those that said this were from Arna itself. The others lived in Hell.

Ever since the subjugation of Halien under the rule of Arna 7 years ago, the three other nations of Palashin, Oroil, and Rejiki had been put under near martial law, their citizens oppressed and their rulers imprisoned, exiled ... or worse. Arnan military might was unstoppable, and its King, though a hero to his own people, was seen as the worse dictator in Halien history to the conquered realms. It seemed as if the Arnan's were right: they would rule forever ...

But there were those who rebelled ...
_____

Western Tip of Rejiki

They were close to Oroil now: the forest was starting to get thicker, thick to the point where there was almost nowhere to walk, save for the path Coron had found. Scouting ahead for the Rejikian Rebel Vanguard unit he was with, he had been succesful in avoiding detection for the past 2 hours or so from the Royal Arnan Territorial Guard. Of course that was partially because he had been able to pick off two soldiers with his bow early on, and the rest of the platoon in the area had been looking for them.

Meanwhile, Coron's job was quite specific: he was to find the birdge into Oroil, and get in contact with whatever there was of the Resistance there. Most of the higher-ups of the RRV didn't believe in aiding or receiving aid from the other lands, but a few people, such as Coron and the rebels he was with, thought that the only way to toss off the Arnan noose, which was growing tighter by the day, was to unite the rest of Halien: inspire the people of the once noble land to cast off their chains and destroy the Arnan Kingdom which had so violently and brutally enslaved them.

Coron was one of the few who believed that every nation, all peoples had to be one: they had to gain the strength to give up boundaries, nationallity, and finally destroy Arna. Just as Arna has destroyed my people, he thought.

Suddenly, a russle ahead of him got his attention. Looking closer, Coron Ekken could see the bridge he had longed to find, but still ... what was it that made the noise?~

"Arrugh!" The Arna soldier clutched his stomach and pawed franticly at the arrow there. Another arrow to the head put him down. Two more soldiers turned from the wrecked wagon and, upon seeing the archer, charged. Foxfire drew his short blade and entered combat. He was vaugly aware that someone was watching them, but was too busy fighting the soldiers to take a closer look. They soon both fell to his blade. A forth soldier charged his from behind, swinging a gigantic battle-axe. Foxfire had no time to fight, and the soldier was heavily armored. At the last second a curved blade came out of nowhere and stabbed the man in his face though his helmet's visor. He screamed and crashed to the ground, a knive in his face. Holly walked calmly over and stabbed the man repetedly until he stopped screaming. They were both wet with blood and sweat. Foxfire turned to the overturned wagon. It's occupents had been slaughtered, and valubles were stewn all over the ground. The hairs on the back of Foxfire's neck prickled. "Hurry, we must hide. This attack will attract attention." said Holly, and they ran to hide in the woods, spieing for whoever would next enter the area.

~ The bloodshed Coron had just witnessed was ... actually, it was normal to him. This period of war and chaos had turned him into a cold, unfeeling murderer, and yet, he could still feel a sense of a soul inside him: a feeling that told him that he still cared about what happened to Halien, to Rejiki, to the people around him ...

Still, he thought to himself, now's not the time for this ...

Quietly raising himself slightly, so at least he wasn't crouching anymore, Coron ever so carefully drew an arrow from his quiver, and slid it silently into his bow string. The ebony bent only a little bit, but if need be it could be thrown back and let fly in an instant. The two figures he saw run away might still be around, and he was unsure if they were merely highway bandits. The attack had happened near the bridge: a prosperous choke-point for a robber, but he thought it was odd that they left the wagon entirely alone.

His boots touched the Earth noiselessly as he crept from his hiding spot, bow pointed down, to examine what had happened. As he came closer, a familiar sight came upon him: a man garbbed in red and white, bearing an image on his chest of a white tree inside a red knight's shield: the Arnan Coat of Arms.

Whoever those people were, they were either brave or foolhardy to attack an Arnan supply train by themselves, but then again, there may have been more of them. In fact, Coron mused with a slight sense of dread, this could be a trap!

Quickly turning to scout his immediate area, he cursed himself inside for not being more cautious: if those attackers wanted, he could have easily been picked off. In fact, he stuck out like a sore thumb: his orange sash clashed horribly with the browns and greens around him. He began to wonder why he had even worn the thing in a first place when he knew he was on scout duty.

When nothing happened after a few moments, Coron's earlier sense of parnoia faded slightly, and he began to examine the wagon itself. What he saw surprised him.

Food? Has Oroil become so distraught as it needs to import food?

This only furthered Coron's belief that Arna was not a Rejikian woe: it was a Halien problem, and any that didn't think so were doomed to repeat the mistakes of those who let Halien fall to Arna in the first place.

After examining the immediate area, Coron Ekken decided to try something bold. He lowered his bow even more, and let loose some of the tension on its string. Then, slightly above a whisper but nowhere near his normal voice, he called out,

" Is anyone here? I'm a member of the Ar-Ar-Vee. Can anyone hear me?"~

Holly walked out of the forest, her sword not drawn but her hand on the hilt, while Foxfire circuled around the man from behind, his bow strung. "Put your hands were I can see them." Holly said, walking forward. Foxfire came out and stood near the wagon, his bow still out and drawn. He allowed his eyes to look over the destroyed wagon. Three dead travelers lay sprawled in there, they're bodies cut by Arnan swords. They had watched as the Arnan soldiers who guarded the bridge stop the wagon and demand toll. Foxfire was unsure of exactly what happened, but the guards brutally murdered the people inside. That's when Foxfire and Holly had attacked. But they had been too late. The travelers were dead. Now came this unknown man, wearing the colors of Rejiki, but one must be careful in these times. Spies were everywhere...

~ Damnit ...

Coron knew he had no choice. Slowly, he released the tension on his bow, and let the arrow and the bow itself fall the the ground separately. As they struck the soft dirt road with a quiet thud, he raised his hands and put them behind his head.

As he bent down on his knees, he looked at the two that had captured him. They were quite young, but their eyes showed no signs of childish behavior, and plus, the recent visual Coron had been treated to of them taking out a squad of Arnan Guards with relative ease told him that they were definately of top-soldier material.

He thought that it would be best not to talk: if he opened his mouth, they might think he was trying to alert others to their presence. No, no, these hard times stressed patience, subtelty, and silence. Coron would wait to see what these two had to say before he began explaining why he was there. That is, if they gave him the opportunity to ...~

Foxfire kept is bow trained on the man as he kneeled on the ground. Holly walked forward and picked up his bow and the arrow, backing away warily. She desposited the bow and arrow on a patch of grass. "Who are you? What is your business here?" she asked the man.

Zanzieur strolled along the road,his pack settled on his back.He scuffed his boots against a large stone, before kicking it, feeling the impact through the thick leather.

Most people called him Zan,not that he minded.He was simply eager to get on with his life and find out his true calling,whatever it was.He simply couldn't stand being around these Arnaians.Irritating bastards. Especially their soldiers.

They's assumed him to be a sort of bandit when they first encountered him.Right.A bandit walking right in the middle of a main road,which was used often by patrols of the Arna Territorical Guard.He'd shown them the error of their ways,breaking the arms of at least two of the sorry bastards before they'd backed off.His message to them was simple;leave me alone,and you can go on as you please.Fuck with me,and I'll show you a world of pain.

They had foolishly chosen the pain.Despite the fact that he'd shown them his old Territorial Guard badges and the letter of appreciation given to him by the academy where he had taught melee and unarmed combat to non-commissioned officers,as well as his identification as having served for three years on the Gibraltar as a navigator/chef/captain's bodyguard.

Currently,they were 2 days behind,licking their wounds. Then,in the distance,he noticed a small pile of bodies,and a man kneeling in front of two youths,one of them pointing a crossbow at him.

Without further ado,he snuck to the side, using the forest cover as camouflage to observe the proceedings.It looked to him like a Arna patrol had been ambushed.Couldn't say he was sad for their losses.

The best thing to do was watch and wait.Caution.

Foxfire came forward and tied the man's hands and feet, then backed away again, still keeping his bow leveled at him. "We won't go until we get some answers." he said calmly, and Holly sat down on the grass in front of the man, waiting for him to speak.

In the Oroilian Woodlands.

“Lord and Lady above, Gabriel, can you not tread more quietly?”

Her name at full length was First Princess Nerissa Lucinda Wolfgram of Oroil. She didn’t look much like a princess at the moment, dressed in traveler’s clothes and chastising what, in her opinion was the world’s dumbest saddle horse, but it was indeed a genuine title, held since birth.

“Majesty, he is but a horse. He can only walk so carefully.” That came from one of seven knights riding with the princess, all disguised like she was.

Nerissa looked up at him from beneath the traveling cloak’s hood. Five of the knights had horses to ride on and the remaining two manned a wagon loaded to look like a merchant’s hauler. If stopped by the RATG, they would claim to be a merchant and her escort headed in the direction of Rejiki, and if that didn’t work…

Her hand drifted down to her belt, where Terminus Est was hidden by the traveler’s cloak in its scabbard, concealed, but easily reached if needed.

“Do not address me in that fashion here, Aharon,” she chastised quietly. “Someone might identify us, and we are but a small party.”

Knight-Captain Aharon Maturin stiffened in reply.

“Ma-…Nerissa, this is Oroil. The people here are loyal to you.”

“Most, but not all, I am afraid,” Nerissa responded. “We must reach Trist. RATG soldiers in that city have gone too long without difficulty for my liking.”

Her destination, the city of Trist was on the Oroil-Palashin borderline, just inside Oroil. It had been a trading city, before Oroil was invaded.

“Wait!” One of the knights whispered loudly. “I heard something.”

Now alerted, Nerissa fell silent and stopped moving, as did the others, and began to listen intently. She thought she heard movement not far ahead.

OOC:

Right. Sorry it isn't longer, but it's just a quick introductory post is all. That's whoever's cue to run in to me, if you wish.

~ Coron cleared his throat softly, and answered in a slow, calculating tone, gruadually picking up speed as he went along,

" My name is Coron. I am a member of the Rejikian Rebel Vanguard. I am here with a few allies trying to find one of the last bridges into Oroil to lend our aid there against the Territorial Guard. There's only a few of us, but we sought to make contact, do what damage we could to Arna, than return to Rejiki in order to begin the War of Freedom."

The War of Freedom ... the legendary conflict that would encompass all of Halien, ending in the final defeat of the Arnan Kingdom that would free the conquered lands. Many thought it was only a myth, most disregarded it in passing, but some, like Coron, truly believed in it. Arna would not dominate Halien, and the RRV would prove that. All it would take would be for Oroil to join Rejiki: Palashin would follow soon after. Arna could not stop the might of 3 nations at once ...

Still, Coron Ekken's dreams of freedom were in confliction with his present situation: he was hoping that the two holding him hostage were friendly to his cause. Considering that they had just killed Arnan soldiers, Coron assumed they would be.~

In the Oroilian Woodlands.

Nerissa crept slowly through the undergrowth, trying hard to be silent, lest she alert those individuals on whom she was now trying to spy.

“Can you see anything?” whispered Aharon, so close she could feel his breath on her face in the darkness. She said nothing but nodded in reply. She and two knights were crouched in the darkness right alongside the marked path.

“A fight has just finished,” Aharon whispered quietly, and Nerissa nodded once more and kept silent as before. She could see the corpses.

Not that she was bothered. She’d seen and taken part in much killing since the invasion, a lot more than she would have liked to confess to. It seemed there were three people living in the fight’s aftermath. One was now being interrogated by the others. The bodies looked like RATG soldiers, if she was seeing clearly. Two of the living ones looked Rejikian and it looked like the third was from Oroil.

Nerissa looked at the two knights beside her, and then looked back at the scene unfolding in front of her, and made a snap decision.

“Don’t move!” she called out, in a surprisingly deep, commanding voice, standing up and moving out from concealment. She left her own sword sheathed, but Aharon and the second knight drew their swords as they stood behind the princess. She also left her hood up for the moment.

OOC:

Here's one more from me. Let's see if I can't make up my slowness here...just kidding. I won't glot the thread with useless posts. I must log out soon, and this might be my last post today, though I hope it isn't.

Holly turned, her sword now drawn. Foxfire swiftly cut Coron's bonds, then backed off aiming his bow at the newcommers. If this man was who he said he was, and these people who now came were Aran, he could help them. Foxfire studied them. A beautiful women with a sword stood just inside the trees. Two knights in armor flanked her. Holly stood in battle stance, wary but not about to attack. "Who are you?" she asked, and Foxfire tightened his grip on his bow, just in case...

Dashir was not in a good mood. Of course, most people wouldn't be in a good mood after getting shoved off a cliff while trying to protect one of their more inexperienced team members. A short fall through the air and a long roll down a steep hill later, Dashir had plenty of scratches on his body, a broken leg, and a nice wound on his arm where a thick branch had pierced it. The worst thing was that all he had was his clothes, his sword, and his chainmail, so he had no way of fixing himself.

That was six days ago. After making a splint, and ripping parts of his shirt off as bandages, he slowly made his way through the woods he found himself in, killing animals and finding berries and roots for food, when he somehow miraculously found a road. The joy of finding a trace of civilization almost made him forget the pain from where a fox had bit him only three hours earlier. Almost.

Dashir limped down the road, slightly happier because of his discovery, but still generally in a bad mood. He soon saw a bridge coming up in the distance. He also saw a wagon and a group of people by the bridge as well. Dashir made sure his cloak covered everything from the neck down, and continued walking forwards. He estimated that he would be within earshot in five minutes.

Zanzieur didn't know how to react to the situation unfolding to him.He'd thought that perhaps the man kneeling before them was a provincial official who been attacked by bandits.Then,he'd heard whispers of their conversation,snatches of it from the wind.

Before long,what seemed to be a merchant convoy had happened upon the scene,a woman leading the way.A beautiful one at that.Then,he'd seen the man kneeling on the ground freed.The one he knew now to be Coron of the RRV.

He'd been passing through town and chatting to some of his old contacts in the town garrison and found that Coron had a bounty on his head.Dead or alive,as long as there was proof.A bounty of 5000 crowns.No wonder he looked familiar.His face was posted on several posters around the main cities.

Looking further down the road, he noticed that a traveller with a limp,concealed by a cloak,was walking towards the small party.This place was getting crowded. He had his quarterstaff with him,and knives,and was competent enough in swordplay,though not an expert.

The tactical situation was in an increasingly unpredictable location,with several armed individuals present,not all of whose affiliations were known. Deciding on something that would be totally unexpected,and throw them into confusion,he retreated deeper into the woods.

As soon as he was confident of his cover,camouflaged in a tree that allowed him to look at the scene yet concealed him among its branches,he drew out his guitar.He plucked a string,then proceeded to yodel like a lunatic,strumming his guitar like an insane mountain hermit.

He knew he had several escape routes,one by crossing over a river.He was a strong swimmer and good runner.He could make it.By making such a noise and injecting such unpredictability and fostering chaos among the various elements, he could cover his escape,double back and follow this person to the RRV.Zan had just figured out who his next prospective employer would be.

~ What the Hell?

The sudden, strange, loud noises came from nearby, no doubt that, but what was making them? Some crazed person? A badger that had somehow found a guitar? He knew for sure it was some type of string instrument, but still, what was the purpose of such a loud disturbance?

Coron's situation was getting too hectic: he had just been freed by the two teens (he recognized the girl's Rejikian accent, which was a somewhat comforting thought), and now a new figure, a woman, had come out of the woods, with 2 knights by her side. Armored figures usually meant Arnan forces, but it couldn't have been: they didn't bear the white and red, in fact, Coron could have sworn he saw a flash of green: an Oroilian color.

Still, even with the intervention of these newcomers, there was still the question burning in Coron's mind: What in Halien's Corners was making that racket? The awful din consumed him to find out what it was. In fact, it prompted him to step forward, making a bold move.

" We are no enemies of the Oroilians, however, it seems we have something else to deal with at the moment, so I suggest we take care of it first, and introductions can come later."

Now I'll find out if they really are Oroilians.~

Bridge

“I am a Merchant, registered with the Halien Merchant’s Guild,” Nerissa lied. “My office is sufficient for now. Who might you be?”

Nerissa’s eyes scanned the trio from within the cloaks hood. If the girl was not a Rejikian it was high time the princess had her eyes looked at.

Back at the wagon

Nerissa had taken only two knights forward to the bridge. This left five at the wagon, two in the wagon disguised as drivers, and three on horseback.

“We’ve got a new guest coming,” whispered one as Dashir approached.

“Good evening, sir,” said a horseback knight as he turned to face the man. “What brings a man such as you out here alone? Traveling alone isn’t a good idea.”

Bridge

Nerissa heard the voice back at the wagon and knew somebody must be approaching, and it would soon get even more crowded here.

It was at that moment the princess’s thoughts were interrupted by a loud racket. Some sod in the woods-Nerissa knew no beast that sounded like that-was making a ruckus.

“What the devil?” she asked nobody.

“Somebody is out there,” declared Aharon, eyes scanning the woodlands.

“You’re not joking!” exclaimed the second knight.

“Be quiet!” Nerissa demanded. Her brown eyes scanned the trees. The noise was close by if she was right, and she recognized the shouts as human.

“It’s a person out there,” she declared in a sure tone of voice.

“We are no enemies of the Oroilians, however, it seems we have something else to deal with at the moment, so I suggest we take care of it first, and introductions can come later."

Her eyes fell on the man who had just recently been tied up on the ground.

“If you want to traipse around in the woods,” Nerissa said. “Be my guest. Time is money to me."

Best to play the part. She was claiming to be a Guild Merchant, after all.

Dashir frowned at the scene before him. Three cloaked men on horseback were standing in front of him, probably escorting the wagon to its destination. However, the wagon didn't seem to be moving, which indicated to Dashir that there was some trouble on the bridge.

Great. Just what I need. More trouble. I'd better make up a story now. I doubt these three were escorting a wagon unarmed. They probably all have concealed weapons. And judging by the fact that they are all Oroilian, they probably won't be sympathetic towards the plight of a poor RATG soldier.

Looking at the man who had called out to him, Dashir casually lied, "Good evening to you sir. If you must know, I was travelling with my brother and his son to visit his wife's parents who live in the city of Sharr, when I got into a small accident which caused us to be separated. I'm hoping to find either my brother, or a message he left for me at the next town."

Dashir took a deep breath and fought back a wince as a burst of pain shot through his broken left leg. Damn. I really hope these three don't try and cause any more trouble for me. I'm in no condition to do any fighting right now.

Foxfire and Holly stood with their backs to each other."What the the hell just happened?" Foxfire wondered in astonishment. Alot of people had just come very fast, and now there was an insane man with the inability to play the gutair out in the woods. Dusk was falling, and the sunset light up the scene with a fireworks dispaly of red, yellow, and orange. It was too crowded here for Foxfire's liking. He and Holly silently melted away into the woods the way only an Oroiln could. From the trees they watched the events. Suddenly there was the pounding of hoves on the ground and 20 or so Arnan RATG soldeirs on horseback burst into the area. "Shit." Foxfire muttered, and began launching arrows at the men as Holly, as graceful and deadly as a jungle cat, ran out to meet them, armed with only her sword and superior speed, swordsmanship, and flexibility. Foxfire hoped they'd at least get support from the other people in fighting the soldiers and not find out they were all Arnan spies until they lay dead with their heads cut off.

Should he just let them slaugher each other?After all,it had nothing to do with him.Zan didn't care all that much for those supposed bandits who he now knew were rebels.They'd been careless.

He cared even less for the RATG troops who'd just arrived.He could stay in his tree,remain absolutely silent and they wouldn't even find him,at least not for a long time.

Then he realised that the rebels were teenagers.Mere children compared to his 30 years.However,they were children whou could fight.

He watched as an arrow pierced through the helmet of a .RATG soldiers were generally proud and stupid.A potent combination.Then again,those two would die ,given they were outnumbered.

He doubted that the merchant would help them.Her interest was in money after all.

Cursing himself for his soft heart,he slid down the tree and sprinted to an area nearer where they were fighting. He couldn't let them die,after all he'd been through.Still,it was not wise to take on cavalry given his weapons.He'd have to change that.

He saw a horseman coming his way,sword out and ready to cut him down.Slipping to the side,he feinted before rolling as it swung in an arc and missed him,lodging in the bole of a tree.Good, the odds were more even.

Drawing his fighting knife,a twin-edged dagger with a foil-like grip and sleek lines, he crouched down in a guarding stance.In close-quarters fighting there was no more deadly weapon than the knife.Unfortunately,this was not such a scenario.He was against a mounted opponent,who as a result had superior speed, reach and bulk.Then again, Zan had a healthy disregard for anything that smacked of decency in fighting.

He had fought swordmasters to even draws unarmed,simply because he ignored the rules of engagement and did things no swordsman would do,using principles across martial arts,getting close to his opponents and grappling with them rather than let them swing their swords at him.That,and using the environment against them.

He felt the horseman thundering down on him.A collision with the horse would kill him.He leapt up and grabbed a branch,letting his legs slam into the horseman and throw him off his horse.He fell with a yell, landing with an impact that sent the wind from his lungs.

Good.He's not dead.Rather not kill.The poor bastard's only trying to be professional and do the job.

The horse slowed down and came to the rider.Lifting him,Zan threw the unconscious horseman over his mount,but liberated his supplies of food and a single crossbow.Perhaps he could resolve this without anyone getting killed.He had no qualms about killing when absolutely necessary,but most situations could be resolved diplomatically.

He doubled back,hearing the scream and whinny of the horses and their riders,as well as the bark of their captain as he fired commands at them,at the rear of the formation.Hmm.

---

The Captain was still barking the orders when he felt a dagger slip into the gorget around his neck,a strong hand pressed to his back.A voice that made his blood run cold with fear whispered into his ear.

"Tell them to stand down.Disengage from fighting the rebels,and I won't have to kill you.Not yet.Savvy?"

The Captain nodded,before barking out orders to stand down,as the cavalry reacted in shock to the sudden command to withdraw.

~ The cavalry had snuck up on the group in the clearing, and Coron could not help wonder but how. Still, there was no time to think: within a second, a scarlet flash came from his scabbard, and travelled across the Rejikian's chest. The clang of his curved blade nearly deafened the rebel as the first horseback blow fell upon his blade.

Coron's sword managed to catch the Arnan by surprise, causing his horse to whine and stand. This was just the chance he needed, as he quickly grabbed the armored knight by the arm and dragged him down to the ground. The Arnan struggled wildly, trying to grab his blade, but his attempt was stopped as the young Ekken tore at the soldier's helmet, ripping it off and then repeatedly driving his fist into the man's temple. He felt something give, stood again, and then Coron held his sword in both hands, and drove it straight down. Within a second, the soldier was squirting blood from the neck, and the ruby was not the only crimson object on Coron's weapon. The blade, named No-Rekki-Ishiro, rose again, ready to fend off the next attack, but it never came.

In fact, Coron was surprised to see the RATG men fleeing, all except for one, who dismounted and faced Coron, his blade drawn. He took off his helmet, letting it fall to the dirt ground, as well as his breast plate and the accompanying chain mail, and stood ready for combat, his feet dug into the ground.

" You ... you are Ekken, are you not?" His voice was raspy, the result of a forced march for several days.

Coron, naturally wary of any Arnan, nodded slowly, No-Rekki-Ishiro sliding into both of the Rejikian's hands and making its way towards the ground behind Coron as he turned himself sideways to face the Guard.

" You killed my brother at Bukishantsu last year," at this, the Arnan's face took the color of the setting sun, his teeth gritting together, his hands tightening around the leather grip of his broadsword, " I'll kill you!"

He rushed forward, his weapon held on high, intent on striking Coron down in one blow. The rebel waited patiently, not moving a muscle, preparing for his move. As the blade finally began to come down, Coron quickly stepped to the side of the soldier; His weapon came so close that a few of the Rejikian's hairs fell to the ground. As the RATG member passed by Coron, he swung full force at the Arnan's chest, his blade rising quickly from having its tip on the ground to being pointed directly at the tree tops in front of Coron.

The man stopped running in an instant, and fell to the ground. He made no noise: all that accompanied his death was a soft thump as his armor smacked the dirt road. Coron's attack had cut through the man's thin leather armor that remained on him, and pierced his heart. He was dead before he knew it.

Silently, Coron wiped down his blade, and sheathed it. Questions raced through his mind: Was he in any more danger? What of the two teens who had captured him? Where was that thing that had made that dreadful row? And lastly, where was the girl with the regal voice who proclaimed that she was a member of the Merchant's Guild?~

Foxfire stood amongst the trees, firing arrows as fast as he could at the soldiers. Some wore helmets, which made Foxfire have to try and shoot though the slit in the helmet, most did not. Holly was a blur, using ancient arts of speed and flexability taught to her by the Old Priests. Though this she was able to leap up and shove the rider off his horse, stabbing him though once he was on the ground. Out of the corner of his eyes Foxfire a man sprinting out of the trees to engage Arnan soldiers, and saw the man Coron beggining to fight. Foxfire cursed as he strung another arrow. They had been careless, and carelessness could cost him his life..or worse, Holly's or any one of the others there. Suddenly the soldiers were running for it, disapearing into the trees. A single soldier remained behind, and he attacked Coron, but quickly fell to Coron's blade. Then all was quiet. Foxfire debated. Should he and Holly vanish away back to town, or should they stay and find out what this was all about? Staying was risking death, not just from Arnan reinforcements, but any one of these people could try to kill them, even though they had just fought Arnan soldiers. The Arnan have many enemies, not all of them rebels. Holly stood, cleaning her blade with a bloodcloth, eyeing the other people. Foxfire stepped out of the forest and stood beside her, ready for anything.

~ Coron was still trying to get his bearings after the quick battle. He was unsure what had happened to the Merchant girl, but happened to see the teens step out of the forest back into the clearing in front of the bridge.

The racket from that battle ought to have gotten my squad's attention ... they may be along any minute ...

Still, he didn't know for sure if reinforcements were on the way, and an Arnan division beaten back usually came later with twice as many men. Whoever was in the area had to flee, and quickly. If not, they could all be taken prisoner, killed ... or worse. Only crazed ravings were the only evidence of Arnan torture methods, but still, no rebel ever wanted to be witness to one.

Quickly striding over to the Rejikian girl and the Oroilian accompanying her, Coron looked her over.

" Yosuno ichtari omoi-no? Are you ok?"

He kept a constant scan of the area as he checked to make sure the two weren't injured. If he had time, Coron knew he would go and look for the merchant as well (even though he had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn't a merchant at all), for he knew that no one deserved to fall into Arnan hands.

And just what the was making that awful noise?!~

~ Coron was still trying to get his bearings after the quick battle. He was unsure what had happened to the Merchant girl, but happened to see the teens step out of the forest back into the clearing in front of the bridge.

The racket from that battle ought to have gotten my squad's attention ... they may be along any minute ...

Still, he didn't know for sure if reinforcements were on the way, and an Arnan division beaten back usually came later with twice as many men. Whoever was in the area had to flee, and quickly. If not, they could all be taken prisoner, killed ... or worse. Only crazed ravings were the only evidence of Arnan torture methods, but still, no rebel ever wanted to be witness to one.

Quickly striding over to the Rejikian girl and the Oroilian accompanying her, Coron looked her over.

" Yosuno ichtari omoi-no? Are you ok?"

He kept a constant scan of the area as he checked to make sure the two weren't injured. If he had time, Coron knew he would go and look for the merchant as well (even though he had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn't a merchant at all), for he knew that no one deserved to fall into Arnan hands.

And just what the was making that awful noise?!~
"Meh orna semme no." Yes, I'm alright. said Holly in her native language. Foxfire followed this, having been taught the dialect by Holly. "Quickly, we must depart from here. More soldiers will be back. I'm sure the other's will be able to handle themselves. Come, please." Holly and Foxfire edged in the direction their little fishing village.

Zan liberated the man of his equipment,particularly his cross bow.That way, he couldn't fire on him when Zan made his escape.Similarly,he liberated food from the man.

Luxury of luxuries; chocolate!

With a sudden downward swing with his pommel,he knocked the man unconscious and sent him on his way.His mount would catch up to his troop and before long they would return.

Noticing the people slipping into the forest, he made the decision to follow them.He figured they could use a mercenary,and he honestly didn't mind fighting the RATG.Mercenaries were always in demand,and one with his background and experience in a wide rage always had the opportunity to be employed.

Following at a discrete distance, he tracked Coron,before projecting his voice.Less than a shout but louder than normal,the message was clear;

"Looking for a mercenary mate?"

Well,if not,he could always go for the merchant woman.A wise merchant knew that one more guard could never hurt.That,and there were bandits in these parts,and his 'honourable professional' status with the major guilds of mercenaries usually eased his hiring.

~ Coron stopped following the two teens upon hearing the new voice. He spoke in Halenish: the trade language of Halien that everyone used. Turning slowly, the man who had offered his services cetaintly did have the look of a soldier about him, though perhaps not the brute strength. Lithe, thought Coron, that's what it is: he looks agile.

He started walking closer towards the tan skinned man, he let his hand rest on the handle of his sword as he cocked his head slightly. The silence was deafening, and Coron knew that they had to get moving quickly: more Arnan soldiers would be on the way any moment, so he decided to make his offer short.

" Depends. Are you interested in working for the Ar-Ar-Vee? We pay pretty well: all Arnan gold and silver. Sound good?"~

"By the law of the Halien Mercenary Guild and the Rule of the Codex,by the Free Association of Brethren,I accept the offer of service and am bound by laws of neutrality and loyalty of both.As a Senior Member of the Halien Mercenary Guild,I offer my services at the current minimal market rate of 200 Silver.All trades are negotiable.Contract is renegotiable at any time.and non-binding should there be a conflict of interest to the parties involved."

There.The traditional mercenary invocation.Now,we see how it goes.

Zanzieur was an accredited member for a reason.Though having served the Arna military services before,as a seaman early on and eventually a Lieutenant in the King's Regiment and Bolegia's Band,a freelance mercenary group,he was bound by his professional code to be neutral.

Stowing the crossbow across his back,he sprinted towards his new employer.

Let's see where fate takes me now.

~ Heh, a merc with honor? I thought they all died out at the end of the war ...

Coron held out his hand to Zanzieur, they shook, and the deal was sealed: according to mercenary law (Ironic ...), this man would follow and aid Coron and the RRV as long as he wanted to, and hopefully that would be just long enough to incite a major rebellion.

Mercenaries in Halien were of a rare-breed: they were dispassionate to the causes they fought for, and were, as Coron had thought to himself, quite honorable and noble. In fact, it was a Rejikian mercenary who had killed the first Arnan during the war, later becoming a great General within the army and dying a heroic death, surrounded on all sides in the final battle. Yusio Kurwasaki: the Mercenary Hero. Coron's uncle, Ganoul Ekken, had actually fought under Yusio, and was well-decorated for his service, bringing great honor to the Ekken family.

It was his uncle's sash that Coron had worn throughout his service with the RRV, and it was also his uncle's armor that he donned during raids. Still, there wouldn't be many more raids for the moment. In fact, even though he was a highly-wanted man by the Arnans (he had last heard that they had put a price of 10,000 gold on his head), Coron was actually still following the lead of the two teenagers, who had continued to walk again.

However, it just occured to Coron ...

" What is everyone's name here?"~

While waiting for the disguised man's reply, Dashir suddenly heard noises up ahead. He recognized them as cries of battle, pain, and death. Ignoring the three men on horse-back for now, Dashir made his way onto and past the bridge as quickly as he could with his broken leg.

Once past the bridge, he saw a clearing. Inside the clearing, Dashir saw the dead bodies of several Arnan RATG soldiers. The signs were clear to Dashir. A group of Arnan soldiers had passed through here and engaged in battle with others who had been here, retreating only after they had lost some men. It was pure luck that Dashir had been held back at the wagon. If he had continued on, he would've been unable to protect himself efficiently, and probably would've been mistaken as an enemy and killed by either side.

"Monosa blaq..." Dashir muttered an Arnan curse that would've had his mother grounding him for a century. Scouting around the edge of the clearing, Dashir saw two sets of tracks. One was obviously caused by a group of men on horseback, probably the path the RATG took to retreat from the battle. The second one was much less obvious, and Dashir almost didn't see it. It was taken by much less people, and probably on foot, as people on horses would leave much more signs of their passing.

Dashir slowly followed the path taken by the rebels, following the trail of broken leaves, twigs, and the occasional faint footprint. He didn't even know exactly why he was doing this. He felt rage and sadness at the death of his comrades, but even the deaths of his own squad members wouldn't usually make him go hunt down an unknown enemy with barely any weapons and a broken leg.

These rebels were sloppy.Incautious,gung ho and sloppy.This went more for the teens than anything else.

Zan treaded softly,keeping to the rocky ground where he wouldn't leave tracks,or stepping on the hard-packed earth,where he wouldn't leave a print.He made a point of avoiding the vegetation,to prevent leaving any destroyed foilage.

He respected professionalism,and the kids weren't professional at all.In fact,they could do with some training.Already,he was slipping into his instructor's mind set.Any of his students would recall him fondly as a firm but fiar taskmaster.While not abusive,and not given to vulgarities like so many other instructors within the military or police,he was firm and fair.

Among the skill sets he found that they lacked,by their mere display of it,was individual field craft;the basic military skills required to operate stealthily at day or night regardless of weather or terrain.Obviously,while their fighting prowess was considerable,their fieldcraft left much to be desired.He wondered if perhaps he would serve in the RRV in the capacity as a trainer or as a field agent.

He'd once had to engage members of the RRV in combat,around 3 years back,and the memory was still fresh.He'd killed roughly 48 of them in 3 successive days of melee combat,with foot,fist and blade.It had been savage,and at the time,the Arna military service had deployed a newly formed commando unit,'Schwarzen Teufeln' or the Black Devils.

Volunteers for the 3000-man elite force consisted primarily of enlisted men recruited from the various branches,services and formations, stating that preference was to be given to men previously employed as lumberjacks, forest rangers, hunters, game wardens, and the like.Basically outdoorsmen.Premier survivalist and wilderness trackers.They were unparalleled scouts, marksmen, masters of stealth tactics, and excellent light infantry, said to possess an unerring sense of direction, traits developed by training in a haunted region where the forests actually moved to conceal the path taken.

Force members received rigorous and intensive training in stealth tactics, hand-to-hand combat, the use of explosives for demolition, amphibious warfare, rock climbing and mountain fighting. They'd even devised the use of extremely expensive and experimental aircraft using hot air balloons,and pieces of cloth which they'd termed parachutes,by which they floated to the ground.

Of course,only insane individuals ever bothered to volunteer with that,given the more than 60% casualty in the experimental stage.The technology had been refined since then,and had spread to use in observation and scouting mainly.The balloonists were mostly women,given the restrictions on weight.

Without a doubt,Zan could say that they were the most professional and probably the best fighter and soldiers he had ever encountered.He'd seen many of them engage entire squads by themselves,and there were plenty among them who were definitely a hairs breadth better than him when it came to unarmed combat.He had done fought side by side with them,and had found them a frighteningly efficient opponent.They didn't break the enemy so much as wipe them out to the last man,and in recent years had increased their numbers to 5000.All told,a frightening force.

If ever deployed,the RRV was better in engaging them at a distance.They were world-class combatants,capable of fighting in any environment in any weather,with a fanaticism that could move mountains.A fanaticism devoted entirely to the King.

But then again,fanaticism was in itself a weakness....

These rebels were sloppy.Incautious,gung ho and sloppy.This went more for the teens than anything else.

Zan treaded softly,keeping to the rocky ground where he wouldn't leave tracks,or stepping on the hard-packed earth,where he wouldn't leave a print.He made a point of avoiding the vegetation,to prevent leaving any destroyed foilage.

He respected professionalism,and the kids weren't professional at all.In fact,they could do with some training.Already,he was slipping into his instructor's mind set.Any of his students would recall him fondly as a firm but fiar taskmaster.While not abusive,and not given to vulgarities like so many other instructors within the military or police,he was firm and fair.

Among the skill sets he found that they lacked,by their mere display of it,was individual field craft;the basic military skills required to operate stealthily at day or night regardless of weather or terrain.Obviously,while their fighting prowess was considerable,their fieldcraft left much to be desired.He wondered if perhaps he would serve in the RRV in the capacity as a trainer or as a field agent.

He'd once had to engage members of the RRV in combat,around 3 years back,and the memory was still fresh.He'd killed roughly 48 of them in 3 successive days of melee combat,with foot,fist and blade.It had been savage,and at the time,the Arna military service had deployed a newly formed commando unit,'Schwarzen Teufeln' or the Black Devils.

Volunteers for the 3000-man elite force consisted primarily of enlisted men recruited from the various branches,services and formations, stating that preference was to be given to men previously employed as lumberjacks, forest rangers, hunters, game wardens, and the like.Basically outdoorsmen.Premier survivalist and wilderness trackers.They were unparalleled scouts, marksmen, masters of stealth tactics, and excellent light infantry, said to possess an unerring sense of direction, traits developed by training in a haunted region where the forests actually moved to conceal the path taken.

Force members received rigorous and intensive training in stealth tactics, hand-to-hand combat, the use of explosives for demolition, amphibious warfare, rock climbing and mountain fighting. They'd even devised the use of extremely expensive and experimental aircraft using hot air balloons,and pieces of cloth which they'd termed parachutes,by which they floated to the ground.

Of course,only insane individuals ever bothered to volunteer with that,given the more than 60% casualty in the experimental stage.The technology had been refined since then,and had spread to use in observation and scouting mainly.The balloonists were mostly women,given the restrictions on weight.

Without a doubt,Zan could say that they were the most professional and probably the best fighter and soldiers he had ever encountered.He'd seen many of them engage entire squads by themselves,and there were plenty among them who were definitely a hairs breadth better than him when it came to unarmed combat.He had done fought side by side with them,and had found them a frighteningly efficient opponent.They didn't break the enemy so much as wipe them out to the last man,and in recent years had increased their numbers to 5000.All told,a frightening force.

If ever deployed,the RRV was better in engaging them at a distance.They were world-class combatants,capable of fighting in any environment in any weather,with a fanaticism that could move mountains.A fanaticism devoted entirely to the King.

But then again,fanaticism was in itself a weakness....

OOC: I'm sorry mate, but I am this close to taking offense. Foxfire and Holly, in case you didn't read the bio, have hunted all their lives. I think they would know how to effectivily conceal themselves. True, they lack military dicipline. Sloppy? Maybe. Gung ho? Hardly. But incautious? How so, pray tell? It's true, they require training to sharpen their skills. But the way you portray them was like they won out of your help and dumb luck. This would not be the case as far as my charactors are involved.

IC: Foxfire and Holly led the little group out of the woods and into the outskirts of their little town. Nearby was a little inn called The Broke Fisherman. It was controlled by the RRV (the owner was a RRV member) so it would be a good place to spend a little time figuring out what the hell was going on. Foxfire and Holly went in and bought some food and drink (lots of seafood) and sat down to wait for the others. "Who are these people?" asked Holly quietly. "No idea." mumbled Foxfire. "Not Arnan's, obviously. Mercs, maybe?" Holly shook her head. "I don't think so. Retired soldiers is more like it. Or rough around the edges bandits." Foxfire took a bite of bread. Real fighting ability, he mused, and hostile to Arna. But not nessesarely on our side. I hope we haven't made a huge mistake...

OOC:

Hey, guys, sorry about being so late. I'll post again ASAP.

OOC: Goddamn do I hate jolt ... also, Xiscapia, please check the OOC thread
IC:

~ Striding into The Broke Fisherman, Coron knew that he still did not know the names of his new companions, but nevertheless, he knew he had an ally here. Guntachi Tessori, the innkeeper, was a secret RRV member, and used the nearby town of Warask, the border between Oroil and Rejiki, as a rest-stop for Rejikian rebels conducting operations in Oroil. The old man had seen and helped Coron and his squadron many times, and was respected by all who knew him.

Upon seeing him, Coron came up and greeted him with a hand on his shoulder, to which Guntachi repeated the warm geusture.

" It's good to see you again, Guntachi."

The innkeeper smiled, " And you, Coron. I thought you would have never made it after that last little spat."

Previously, Coron had been injured rather badly at a sabotage effort on an Arnan storehouse near Warask. Damn new kids ... should've taught them about that Arnan black powder before hand ...

Still, it felt good to be back in friendly company. Warask was a great place to hide out. It always felt, to Coron anyway, like a town stopped in time. None of the four nations cared about it, and therefore, there were no rebel raids or RATG searches: it was a quiet hamlet, and sometimes that was all one needed.

Striding into the tavern area along with Guntachi, Coron spied the two teens already sitting down to a meal. Quickly, the rebel reached into a pouch tied around his waist, but Guntachi stopped him.

" No need to pay, my friend: for the Ar-Ar-Vee, it's on the house."

Grinning, Coron bowed to the older man with the utmost sincerity.

" Tekori, Guntachi."

The innkeeper waved his hand in dismissal, motioning towards the table where Holly and Foxfire sat.

" Wanibe, Coron. Take care of yourself, ok?"

The rebel nodded, slipped a silver coin into Guntachi's hand anyway, and made his way towards the table. Immediately, the sight and smell of the food caused Coron's mouth to water slightly. It's been more than a day since I've eaten ... he thought, but he knew he could control his hunger for a moment longer.

He sat on the hard, wooden chair, took off his scabbard and let it rest on his lap, and got the two teens' attention.

" I'm not sure if you heard me out there, but I asked you what your names' were. Mine's Coron, and you are ...?"~

OOC: Sorry for short post, jolt reposted mine three time and I accidentally deleted all three ...

OOC:Dashir slowly followed the path taken by the rebels, following the trail of broken leaves, twigs, and the occasional faint footprint. He didn't even know exactly why he was doing this. He felt rage and sadness at the death of his comrades, but even the deaths of his own squad members wouldn't usually make him go hunt down an unknown enemy with barely any weapons and a broken leg.

Sorry about that Xiscapia,was following on Anadalina's thread.My mistake.Will refer more to the bio.

IC:Zanzieur leaned back in his chair.He waited for his new employer to finish talking with the teens.

Assess the people around you.From there,work out a strategy.

He wished to negotiate the contract,finish as soon as possible and start work.While he liked to travel,frankly,he'd had enough of trekking and hiking through mountains,valleys and by rivers,no matter how scenic it was.

He needed to do some work,for the pure fact that he found it self-actualising,gave him a purpose to carry out.As well as the fact that he needed the money.He had enough money to comfortably support himself for a year on his person.That,and he had a healthy stash in pure gold ingots stashed away in the Arna Capital Bank,for that proverbial rainy day.

Exhaling deeply,he eyed the people in the tavern.Most were travelers or merchants,with one or two shady characters in the corners.He took up a position that allowed him to monitor his employer,Coron.Far away enough to not intrude in his discussion with the youths,close enough that he could intervene if Coron was threatened.

Then he saw her.Leronica.

With a curse under his breath,he raised his travelling cloak to obscure his face from full view and sunk into his seat.

The red-head girl with freckles on her cheeks and curves in all the right places;specifically the hips,bust and butt, was a former lover.A bounty hunter that had tried at different times to either kill him or make love to him whenever they met up.It was a tempestuos relationship,and Zan thought that perhaps she might have some succubus blood in her ancestry,given her libido, though it only applied to him.Musky sweat and jasmine.That was her scent.

One could say that it was a love-hate/'sexual collision whenever they met'/uninhibtied sex/aggressive lovemaking/sexual vampirism(on her part) sort of relationship.

And frankly,he didn't like the way she was eyeing his new employer.In this instance,Zan truly hated it when personal and professional interests collided....

Oroil, RATG Camp

~ " Captain!"

Aurelius Ternion turned to the voice, which came from an officer under his command. As fo now, Captain Ternion was stationed in Oroil to deal with a possible traitor who was rumored to have a link to the old Oroilian Royal Family. If they were allowed to survive and gather followers, Arnan rule over Oroil would be shattered.

Aurelius would not let that happen. His faith in the Arnan King, Jernoli Yuthro, and his pride in the race that had brought peace to Halien was bordering on fanaticism, but yet, it was controlled zealotry, and that made him a very dangerous man.

Right now, he brought his attention to his Lieutenant, Carno Kilroyt.

" Yes, Lieutenant?"

" Those that survived the raid told of only four of them, or so they think."

What?! Four men wiped out on of my platoons?!

" Do they think there was four, or was there four?" His voice rose a bit out of anger, making the lower officer explain quicker.

" Well, sir, they said that there were two teenagers, a man who threatened the Lieutenant, and another, a man wearing the colors of Rejiki but he did not look Rejikian ..."

Coron ... So now he's fighting against me as well ...

So far, Coron Ekken had avoided direct confrontation with Aurelius, well aware of his harsh reputation and brutal tactics, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

" Were there any others?"

" Sir, the scouts on the fringe of the battle believed that they saw a woman flanked by two knights wearing green."

Captain Ternion grinned. That's her, that's our heir. The lieutenant wasn't sure why his leader was smiling, but still, he did not dare question his orders.

" When shall we move, Captain?"

Aurelius patted the mane of his horse down, and then pulled on the reins, causing the animal to start to trot off to the left.

" Immediately. We shall capture those terrorists who killed Arnan citizens, and, if necessary, terminate them."

With a salute, the lieutenant got out, " Yes, my Captain," before he too mounted up and motioned towards the rest of the men to begin to move.

If we succeed here, Arna will no longer have any more enemies ... We will finally have peace ...~

Somewhere in the Oroil Woodlands

Darius moved quickly and quietly through the forest, pausing every so often to check if he was being followed. He had patrolled this area dozens of times before and nothing ever happened, but it never hurt to be careful. Darius was finally able to see the edge of the forest, meaning that he had finally reached the road leading to the bridge.

Well, he thought, another day gone and still no trace of Coron anywhere…

Darius stopped dead in his tracks as he reached the edge of the forest. In front of him lay an overturned Arnan wagon and a pile of Arnan corpses with a few others scattered along the road.

What the hell happened here?

The scene wasn’t that shocking to Darius, he’d seen things like this before, but what did interest him was that it looked like all of this had happened quite recently. After surveying the scene, he concluded that the soldiers had been killed by professionals, as no ordinary bandits would be able to take on this many RATG troops without suffering a single casualty.

Inspecting the ground carefully, Darius found the footprints which seemed to belong to a small group of people, perhaps the group that slaughtered these soldiers. Without thinking twice, he ran down the road, following the path that was conveniently provided for him. Soon afterwards, he saw a figure further down the road that appeared to be limping in the same direction as he was. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, Darius slowed to a jog, and then a walk as he approached the man. Darius recognized that the man was wearing an RATG uniform, but he didn’t let down his guard, he had to be prepared for anything.

“Excuse me soldier, do you know anything about the incident that occurred just behind us?”

OOC: Goddamn do I hate jolt ... also, Xiscapia, please check the OOC thread
IC:

~ Striding into The Broke Fisherman, Coron knew that he still did not know the names of his new companions, but nevertheless, he knew he had an ally here. Guntachi Tessori, the innkeeper, was a secret RRV member, and used the nearby town of Warask, the border between Oroil and Rejiki, as a rest-stop for Rejikian rebels conducting operations in Oroil. The old man had seen and helped Coron and his squadron many times, and was respected by all who knew him.

Upon seeing him, Coron came up and greeted him with a hand on his shoulder, to which Guntachi repeated the warm geusture.

" It's good to see you again, Guntachi."

The innkeeper smiled, " And you, Coron. I thought you would have never made it after that last little spat."

Previously, Coron had been injured rather badly at a sabotage effort on an Arnan storehouse near Warask. Damn new kids ... should've taught them about that Arnan black powder before hand ...

Still, it felt good to be back in friendly company. Warask was a great place to hide out. It always felt, to Coron anyway, like a town stopped in time. None of the four nations cared about it, and therefore, there were no rebel raids or RATG searches: it was a quiet hamlet, and sometimes that was all one needed.

Striding into the tavern area along with Guntachi, Coron spied the two teens already sitting down to a meal. Quickly, the rebel reached into a pouch tied around his waist, but Guntachi stopped him.

" No need to pay, my friend: for the Ar-Ar-Vee, it's on the house."

Grinning, Coron bowed to the older man with the utmost sincerity.

" Tekori, Guntachi."

The innkeeper waved his hand in dismissal, motioning towards the table where Holly and Foxfire sat.

" Wanibe, Coron. Take care of yourself, ok?"

The rebel nodded, slipped a silver coin into Guntachi's hand anyway, and made his way towards the table. Immediately, the sight and smell of the food caused Coron's mouth to water slightly. It's been more than a day since I've eaten ... he thought, but he knew he could control his hunger for a moment longer.

He sat on the hard, wooden chair, took off his scabbard and let it rest on his lap, and got the two teens' attention.

" I'm not sure if you heard me out there, but I asked you what your names' were. Mine's Coron, and you are ...?"~

OOC: Sorry for short post, jolt reposted mine three time and I accidentally deleted all three ...
Foxfire looked up from his bread. He swallowed before saying "I'm Foxfire. This is Holly." he gestered to her. Holly inclined her head. "We can't stay long here." said Foxfire "Arnan soldiers will come to hunt us down and kill us. If we're found here the Anans will certainly kill Guntachi and probably the whole town out of spite. By the way, thanks for your help back there. And, sorry for having to tie you up. You never can tell these days..." Foxfire gave a shrug. "Anyway, who's the merc?" he asked, nodding to Zan.

~ Coron shook his head.

" I don't know, but he pledged to serve the Ar-Ar-Vee, and that's good enough for now."

Still, he was curious as to the mercenary's intentions, so he bid the teens a good meal, promising that they would leave as soon as possible, and strode over towards Zan's table. As he sat down, he noticed the mercenary eyeing a seductive-looking woman across the room, who also had her gaze directed at the two of them. Deciding to let it go, Coron began the conversation as friendly as possible.

" I want to thank you for helping us back there. I have a feeling that if it weren't for your intervention, we may have not lived through that. Anyway, I'd like to finalize our agreement: I know we didn't have much time before, and we don't now either, but it'll be enough."

All the time, Zanzieur continued to stare at the woman, who continued to stare back. Coron honestly didn't even know if the mercenary would respond to him at all, so he decided to move to the topic that everyone in Halien understood: money. He kept his voice low, as to not attract attention, and leaned across the table slightly to keep the conversation private.

" Well, at the going-rate for hired help within my organization, we've hit a pretty good streak against our enemies, giving us the ability to set a standard wage at five hundred silver, with bonuses available for going above and beyond the requirements of the job. Sound good?"~

Darius recognized that the man was wearing an RATG uniform, but he didn’t let down his guard, he had to be prepared for anything.
OOC: Just for later reference, he's wearing a cloak that conceals his entire body, and even when he's not cloaked, he usually doesn't have any clothes that mark him a RATG man.

P.S.: Since you didn't say anything, I'm just going to assume he's wearing his cloak and badge.

The Woods of Oroil

“Excuse me soldier, do you know anything about the incident that occurred just behind us?”

Dashir turned around to face the newcomer, with one hand, hidden by the cloak, moving to grasp the hilt of his sword. Dashir's eyes flickered over Darius, noting his garb, and especially the small badge with the Arnan coat of arms on it. This was the uniform of one of the Shadow Guard. Dashir relaxed his grip on the sword slightly, but still held onto it. The man might be a rebel in disguise, planning to kill Dashir when he was alone and injured. Besides, Dashir didn't like those who worked for the Shadow Guard anyways. He knew that they also helped the King, but he could not help but dislike those who skulked around in the shadows, trading in information and slitting the throats of those who were not looking.

However, Dashir was currently on the trail of those who had slaughtered the RATG soldiers. A young man in the Shadow Guard might be perfect to help him discover their identities and report the information back to Arna.

"If you are talking about the deaths of those RATG soldiers back there, then all I can tell you is that I am tracking those who I believe are responsible for their deaths." Dashir told Darius. He then glanced upwards through a hole in the canopy of leaves and branches to determine which way the trail probably led. "If this trail keeps going on in the same direction, it will probably lead to the town of Warask." Dashir continued, using his knowledge of the geography of Oroil to predict where the enemy's location was.

~ As the commander within the RRV talked over with the newcomers, Guntachi Tessori could not help but think over what trials would remain for Coron. He had already had to overcome so much, and now that he was here, it was Guntachi's responsibility to let him in on an aspect of his life he probably didn't even know.

Sighing as he posted up another order for ale for his waitress to fill out, the old man thought back on everything: how would he tell him news that could possibly shatter his faith in Rejiki? News that could lead to the final domination of Halien by Arna?

For Coron, though he didn't truly know it, but did have pieces of information about it, was not entirely Rejikian. In fact, Coron was half Arnan ...
_____

As a child, Coron was constantly harassed by the other kids due to his appearance: he did not have the jet black hair or brown eyes so common to Rejikian ancestry, and his tan skin was always a tad darker than what it should have been. He grew up in a world of conflict: always trying to fend after himself against the other children, who would often gang up on him. Of course, after nearly 8 years of bloodshed, Coron had probably forgotten this.

Even Coron's very name was different: the surname "Ekken" is not Rejikian in the least, and neither is "Coron". The rebel's father, Feroul Ekken, was actually an Arnan soldier that had left his country and settled within Rejiki. He married a beautiful woman, Mishi Wazara, and they settled down into Rejiki's wine business. Eventually, she had a child that would bear the father's surname, which both parents agreed to.

Almost everything about Coron was a mix: he had an affiliation for languages (his best being, not Rejikian, but Halenish: the official language of all of Halien), a natural take towards combat (a part of both his father's military bloodline and his mother's link with the Ancient Warriors of Rejiki), but mostly his exterior screamed Arnan, whilst his beliefs and fighting spirit were more akin to an old Rejikian Master Bladesman.

In fact, even Coron's weapon, No-Rekki-Ishiro, was an Arnan creation: the Ruby was the symbolic gem of Arna, and it was a ruby that adorned the weapon's blade.

On the day of the attack on Hujimaru, Coron's family was almost spared. Soldiers marching through the town spied Feroul Ekken, a legendary Captain of the old Arnan Honor Guard, and asked him to flee while they burnt down the "savage" buildings. In response, Mishi stepped out of her home, standing next to her husband whilst holding a long dagger, while Ekken himself drew No-Rekki-Ishiro. He told the 12-man squad to leave, and never return, which they didn't take kindly to. The ensuing battle left both Mishi and Feroul dead, along with eight of the Arnan soldiers.

When Coron's uncle, Ganoul, travelled to Hujimaru to get the blade for the last Ekken in existence, he found Mishi Wazara in the arms of Feroul Ekken, with the blade lying next to them. In their dying moments, Feroul, injured beyond any expectation of living, had crawled to his wife and drew her in close while darkness set in. Such a scene showed Ganoul that peace and understanding between the races was more than possible: it had happened. Snatching up No-Rekki-Ishiro, he returned to Coron at Yukihaza, but never told him of what he found.

Through all of this, without realizing it, Coron was actually fighting for both Rejikian and Arnan ideals at the same time: he longed for peace and order, an Arnan wish, but at the same time he demanded freedom and unity: beliefs that were strictly Rejikian in nature. How he would deal with this news was unknown, but it had to be told.
_____

Guntachi sighed again as he thought over the young man's tragic history, and his most likely even more tragic future. Still, he looked over towards a chest besides him, and knelt down to undo the latch and take one more look at it. The item inside was a gift for Coron, forged using nothing but the styles and materials of Rejiki. His mother wanted him to have it, and had entrusted Guntachi Tessori as its keeper until her son was old enough.

Well, I guess that means now ...~

~ Coron shook his head.

" I don't know, but he pledged to serve the Ar-Ar-Vee, and that's good enough for now."

Still, he was curious as to the mercenary's intentions, so he bid the teens a good meal, promising that they would leave as soon as possible, and strode over towards Zan's table. As he sat down, he noticed the mercenary eyeing a seductive-looking woman across the room, who also had her gaze directed at the two of them. Deciding to let it go, Coron began the conversation as friendly as possible.

" I want to thank you for helping us back there. I have a feeling that if it weren't for your intervention, we may have not lived through that. Anyway, I'd like to finalize our agreement: I know we didn't have much time before, and we don't now either, but it'll be enough."

All the time, Zanzieur continued to stare at the woman, who continued to stare back. Coron honestly didn't even know if the mercenary would respond to him at all, so he decided to move to the topic that everyone in Halien understood: money. He kept his voice low, as to not attract attention, and leaned across the table slightly to keep the conversation private.

" Well, at the going-rate for hired help within my organization, we've hit a pretty good streak against our enemies, giving us the ability to set a standard wage at five hundred silver, with bonuses available for going above and beyond the requirements of the job. Sound good?"~

Zanzieur eyed Leronica.There could be only one reason why she was eyeing his new employer; the bounty.

She was a bounty hunter,an amoral bitch who could backstab you the moment you turned your back on her.Literally,given the scar he had on his back from that one time they'd cooperated on gaining a bounty.She'd claimed that a cockroach had been crawling on his back,but he doubted that,feeling only her knife.Somehow,in a totally irrational manner,having fought and struggled,she'd kissed him and they'd ended up once more in bed together,her low moans filling his ears.That had happened multiple times throughout that day.He give a smirk at the memory.Irrational and careless,thats how she made him.Unpredictable,anomalous,crazy and insane.

His attention was split between her and Coron.He didn't trust her,given how she was eyeing him and his employer from the side of her eyes.If he recognised him at first sight,so did she.

He nodded at Coron,speaking to show that he was listening.

"No worries about the save.I had my reasons for intervening.I was looking for work.As for the rate,given that is above the market rate,I accept.It has enough incentives.I would prefer a paper agreement,but an oral contract is enough for now.And..."

With a flash,he threw Coron to the ground as Leronica let loose with her crossbow.She was an expert in its use,and a proficient blade fighter,more than capable of holding her own.The quarrels slammed into the wood where he had been sitting, before he made a move,charging her and tackling her to the ground.

In the process,his hood came off,as Leronica stared at him in shock.He was the last person she'd been expecting to see in this forgotten part of the Arna-Oroil border.

"Zan..."

"Leronica.You homicidal bitch!What could have..."

She stopped him as she rammed her lips into his,biting down on his lower lip,nibbling on it.

Zan,in shock,had no idea how to react,butted her head and knockied her unconscious.

Picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder,he nodded to Coron.

"I guess that shows our contract is in effect."

~ " Amashi!"

Coron's expletive was knocked out of his chest as he hit the ground, Zanzieur's knee crushing into his stomach. The bolts sticking into the wall and the woman assassin's body drapped over the mercenary's shoulder made it quite apparent that now was the time to go. Such an incident would reach Arnan ears in minutes: they had spies and runners everywhere.

Standing up slowly, trying to regain his breath (the wind had been knocked out of him: a feeling that Coron despised), the rebel called Holly and Foxfire over.

" We're leaving. Now. Gather your things, we have to move."

He turned quickly towards Zanzieur, and nodded his appreciation towards him.

" Remind me to add an extra hundred silver to your pay for that."

Coron then strode towards the door as rapidly as possible, but was stopped by a strong hand on his shoulder. He feared the worst: another assassin, an Arnan Shadow Guard, some drunk trying to collect a bounty, but when he spun around, he saw Guntachi carrying a gleaming white scabbard in his hand.

" Take it," he commanded as he held the weapon out towards him, " The Wazara Clan's blade: Wazara-Kaiso-Battusai. Your mother would want you to have it."

Grabbing the blade, Coron bowed to Guntachi. " I won't forget this. Tekori-shima, Guntachi Tessori."

The innkeeper bowed back. " Go with the Spirits, Coron Ekken."

Coron approached the door, turned back around to face the group with him, the new weapon (which, incidentally, had a handle that was wrapped in leather with a handguard that was also made of some white metal), and motioned them over.

" Ready to leave? We have to head into Warask: there we may have a chance to lose any pursuers we may have."~

OOC: Just for later reference, he's wearing a cloak that conceals his entire body, and even when he's not cloaked, he usually doesn't have any clothes that mark him a RATG man.

OOC: Sorry about that, I just assumed he was wearing his uniform.

"If you are talking about the deaths of those RATG soldiers back there, then all I can tell you is that I am tracking those who I believe are responsible for their deaths." Dashir told Darius. He then glanced upwards through a hole in the canopy of leaves and branches to determine which way the trail probably led. "If this trail keeps going on in the same direction, it will probably lead to the town of Warask." Dashir continued, using his knowledge of the geography of Oroil to predict where the enemy's location was.

Darius felt slightly comforted by the man’s words, he could be lying, but he had a feeling that he was telling the truth. Although the man wasn’t wearing anything marking him as an RATG soldier, Darius felt that he could be trusted. He did seem to know where he was going, and it would be extremely helpful to have a guide around since Darius had never scouted out Warask before. Plus, it might be safer traveling with a partner since the attackers were most likely highly skilled, and Darius would need all the help he could get if he was forced into a confrontation. He continued to follow the man down the path for a few minutes, keeping at the same pace as him. Darius was beginning to grow impatient, they were moving much too slowly.

“How much longer until we reach Warask?” he asked, “At this rate the attackers will get away before we even get there.”

Darius could not afford to let these people escape as they could have information on Coron, something that he desperately needed. He had been investigating Coron and the RRV for months now, but he had been unable to obtain any information on them. Every captured rebel would always refuse to talk, even after being put through the infamous Arnan torture devices, and would be promptly executed afterwards. Perhaps this time he would get lucky and finally be able to get something accomplished, but only if they got there in time...

Dashir gave only a grunt in reply to Darius. Although it was true that they were moving slowly due to Dashir's injury, he didn't like being reminded of the fact. At least the deaths of the RATG men had acted like a pain-killer, making Dashir forget about the pain and focus completely on pursuing their killers.

Killers... Dashir remembered again that the person walking beside him was a member of the Shadow Guard, and was probably more than capable of killing him with a concealed dagger. The man probably would probably only get reprimanded a little, as there was nothing telling Darius that Dashir was with the RATG.

"Three more minutes," he replied. "Then we'll be out of the woods and at the outskirts of the town."

Dashir mentally went through his plan on what to do when they reached Warask. One of his men had visited Warask before. After giving Dashir excessive, exaggerated details about all the women he met, he also told Dashir about a greedy old man who was all too willing to trade any information he had for a few silver coins. This man would probably be able to tell the two about any suspicious people that had entered the town. Afterwards, he would have to try to discreetly identify the enemy and then regroup with his squad. An injured RATG captain and a Shadow Guard member would no doubt not be able to put up much of a fight against whoever killed the Arnan soldiers.

Foxfire and Holly hurried out of the inn, blinking in the afternoon sunlight after the dimness of the tavern. Foxfire spoke. "There's a large city called Providence to the north-east. It's right by the sea, and we'll be able to hide out there until it all blows over. We own a small house, but it's barely big enough for the two of us, it certainly won't accomidate three more people. Fortunally, we have some friends who can hide you. The city's about 10 miles thataway." Foxfire pointed off down a trail which led back into the forest. "If we move quickly and stealthly, we should be able to avoid any additional incounters."

Only three more minutes, Darius thought to himself while slowly counting down the seconds.

After what felt like an eternity, Darius could finally make out some buildings in the distance. They were almost at the outskirts of the town.

“Finally…” Darius muttered to himself.

As they approached the buildings, Darius thought he saw the faint outline of a group of people standing just outside of a large building, possibly an inn. He put his hand above his eyes to block out the sun and squinted. He was right, there were four people in the group and one of them seemed to be carrying something large over their shoulder.

“Hey, look over there,” he said, moving his head toward the group, “we should check them out.”

For all he knew, the people could just be a group of travelers just stopping by the town for a bite to eat, but he had to be suspicious of everything and everyone. The attackers would most likely stick together, and there was a chance that they stopped by this town to get some rest. Even if they were the attackers, the two of them definitely wouldn’t be able to take them down by themselves. They would need to keep their distance, as they probably wouldn’t be too happy to see a Shadow Guard member walking around.

Dashir smiled as they exited the woods and reached the outskirts of Warask. After travelling through the woods alone and hungry for several days, he was quite glad to finally see civilization. Just as he was about to go hunt down the information trader, Dashir heard Darius say something.

“Hey, look over there,” he said, moving his head toward the group, “we should check them out.”

Dashir looked in the indicated direction to see four people in the distance. One of them was carrying something, but they were too far away for Dashir to see what it was. He motioned for Darius to follow and also said, "You should probably take that cloak off. Or at least the badge." Dashir then began walking closer to the group, keeping his face blank of emotions.

As they got closer to the group, Dashir could finally make out what one of the men was carrying on his shoulder. It was a woman! What on Halien are they doing?

They were still out of earshot of the group of four, so Dashir whispered to Darius, "They may or may not be the killers, but based on their "luggage", they don't seem to be up to any good."

"Just give me a few minutes,and I'll go settle her in.My apologies but she is an old...associate,and I don't wish for any harm to come to her.As for the arrow shooting Coron,I apologise on her behalf.She has a tendency to shoot first and ask later.As for any further details regarding how I know her,that is a tale for another time."

Zan slowly explained to the assembled group,the last bit directed at Coron.His plan was simple.Knowing her habits intimately,she would have her horse stabled in the inn,and would have a rented a room.He'd simply deposit her in her room,make his exit and rejoin his employer.

More than likely,they would somehow run into each other within the next few weeks.It always followed that pattern.It seemed as if fate was pushing them together,against his will.Then again, he did take a guilty pleasure in their meetings.He was fond of her,despite everything,despite the unorthodoxy of their relationship.It had been like this since they were 14,and he'd met her in a bordello,her the daughter of the brothel mistress,him a village boy 2 years out from the mountains and already part of the maritime service as a navigator trainee.16 years of knowing her,and they still couldn't get along.

Turning around,he rushed inside to the counter,hurriedly found her room number,and proceeded up the stairs at a fast pace,getting it done in record time.She was already starting to regain consciousness,and would no doubt turn her attention towards him rather than the bounty head,Coron.

As he turned to leave the room,he stopped,impulsively planting a brief kiss on her lips before dashing down the stairs to join his employer.

~ As Zanzieur came back down after "taking care" of Leronica, Coron was inspecting the weapon that Guntachi had handed him. The pure white sheen of the scabbard, the white, leather bindings, even the hand guard was a white metal that took the shape of a sun with its rays gently curving outwards.

Curious, he could not help but draw it, and to his surprise, he was nearly blinded. At first, he thought it was just that the sun had caught the metal of the blade, but as his eyes began to adjust, he saw that the blade itself was made of some orange metal. In fact, it looked like the same orange color that adorned the flag of the old Rejikian Empire.

" By the Spirits ..."

It was amazing: it was as if the sun was captured in the very material that Wazara-Kaiso-Battusai was made of. Upon closer inspection, Coron saw that there was a note attached to the bottom of the edge.

He unfurled it, and read it, his eyes scanning the paper swiftly. The first part of the note was about the weapon itself.

My dearest Coron,

If you are reading this, it means that Wazara-Kaiso-Battusai has finally passed into your hands. It also means that I am no longer with you. Read these words, and heed them well, my son. This weapon is made out of the ancient Rejikian metal, orikal. All of the Ancient Warriors' weapons and armors were made of this material, and the sword you hold in your hand was their most treasured possession.

Coron, Wazara-Kaiso-Battusai can feed off of your own feelings and emotions: the metal will actually react to you, its true wielder, and no one else, for when you were first born, a drop of your blood was rubbed into the blade's tip, marking you as its next inheritent.

When you wield it, let your true warrior spirit flow, and carry your resolve in the highest. When you are in the heat of battle, and filled with fury, Wazara-Kaiso-Battusai will grow white hot, and its flames will sear your enemies. When you are calm, and meditative, the weapon will respond in kind by becoming swifter with each strike. And when you are full of passion, fighting to save those you care for, Wazara-Kaiso-Battusai will manifest in its true form. What this is, I cannot say, for it changes for each user. I only hope that you, too, will discover the blade's ultimate power.

Coron, my son, go with our Spirits, and may you finally find peace in your life.

I love you very much, my son,

Mishi Wazara-Ekken

The rest of the note was Coron's past, as known by Guntachi Tessori and his uncle, Ganoul Ekken.

As he read it, the weapon fell to the ground with a soft clatter.

" I ... I never knew ..."

And with that, he fell to his knees, his eyes drifitng towards the woods as his memories flooded back unchecked ...~

Zanziuer looked upon the blade of his employer and felt a powerful admiration.It was a beautiful-looking weapon.Almost...magical.

But then,he was an atheist who did not believe in magic.Not in the strictest sense of the word.He'd seen many strange things,had encountered fortune tellers,and what people had called the undead;emaciated people who'd hungered after human flesh in the more remote corners of the world.There was a rational explanation for most of the things he'd encountered,but then again,there were some that he admitted had a supernatural component to it.

It was not that he did not believe in the supernatural or the deities,one or many.He respected all beliefs,but found so many of the religions limiting in their views.He just did not believe in some nigh-omnipotent magical force or entity,some supernatural agent directing religion.His belief was more esoteric,rather that the world was a living agent in itself,and that nature was an emanation of this force.

Of course,it was not a belief he voiced out.It was a personal thing.

Then he saw his employer fall to the ground.Heard him say the words in a tone that spoke of a great depth of emotion.Which emotion,Zan was unsure.He picked up the sword with respect,given its beauty,and held in both arms.

Cool to the touch and beautiful,he held it for his employer.Yet,he felt a certain awe in holding the weapon.

This blade is special.Something more to it than just its design.It's beautiful.Deadly.A great warrior once wielded this.An opponent to fear.Then again,it is my employer's business,and none of mine.

"Sir?"

He awaited his reply,intent on moving on now that his affairs were taken care of.He held the weapon carefully, pommel pointed in the direction of Coron,as he waited for him to take it from his hands.

~ It was all so clear to him now: his appearance, his name, the fights and wounds he had suffered at the hands of his own people, his nickname Ronjin, which literally meant "outcast": all of it made sense.

A gleam caught his left eye, and he turned his head ever so slightly towards Zanziuer. The weapon was in being offered towards Coron, and the mercenary was handling it with the utmost delicacy.

His arm rose (it felt as if it were made of stone), and, with clumsy fingers, he curled his palm around the white leather of Wazara-Kaiso-Battusai. Immediately, his hand felt warm. In fact, the feeling started to spread throughout his entire body, as if he had touched a flame that did not burn, but soothed instead.

Coron felt ... fine. Where despair and insecurity had just enveloped him, all of a sudden he had a sense of hope and courage. He stood carefully, first bringing one foot forward so that he was only on one knee, and then finally pushing off the ground, rising with the orange and white sword pointed towards the soft earth. A surprising thing that Coron did not notice until later was that even though the blade had fallen into the dirt, it wasn't dirty at all: not even a speck of dust rested on either the blade itself, the guard, the handle, nowhere.

Spying the scabbard on the ground, he grabbed it and tied it above his other weapon. He held Wazara-Kaiso-Battusai in front of him, looking over its brilliance once more, admiring the craftsmanship that went into making it, and then, slowly, sheathed it until a small click signaled that the weapon was put away.

Coron turned towards his hiree, and bowed.

" Thank you. I apologize for holding us up, I had just learned something ... kept hidden. Hidden for many years ..."

His voice was solemn, but with a hint of reverence and honor. He was proud and glad to finally know who he truly was, and, just as his uncle had predicted, his resolve was never stronger. He paused as his hand found its way to the pommel of the Wazara clan's most treasured possession.

" This weapon," he began again, " I believe it will be of great importance in the coming days. For now, we should follow Foxfire and Holly though. If they can lead us into Oroil, I may be able to contact whatever remains of the Oroilian Resistance, and get them to link up with my unit."

He took the first few steps down the road that the two teenagers had taken, and then turned back from the waist.

" I just realized, I don't even know your name. What is it you would like me to call you?"~

"Zanziuer,a name meaning the Confessor.Son of Matriel the Hanging and Corvus of the Ulthuan Monastery,of the Ulthuan region bordering Yuzan's Peak.My name should tell you all it needs to Coron.You are the nephew of Ganoul Ekken who served under Yusio Kurwaski,the Mercenary King and once-Chief of the Mercenary Brethren.I can tell by your sash.

As stated in the oral ontract, I have accepted your offer,and will continue to serve until such a time you are dead,your cause if fulfilled,or until such a time where my services are unneeded or other aims of my own must be met.Rest assured,I vow this upon the Mercenary Codex."

He motioned for Darius to follow and also said, "You should probably take that cloak off. Or at least the badge."

Darius nodded in agreement and quickly removed his black cloak and pocketed his badge. As the two of them approached the group of people, the man carrying a woman over his shoulder quickly ran into a building and a few seconds later reappeared outside without the woman. Another one of the men appeared to be put into some sort of daze, as he fell to his knees and stared off into space after dropping a sword that was blindingly white.

In fact, the man looked very familiar…Darius had seen him somewhere before. It took him a few seconds to finally recognize him, the man was the infamous Coron Ekken. Darius suddenly felt a strong feeling of joy which quickly turned into frustration. Here he was, standing right in front of the man he’d been trying to find for almost a year, and yet he couldn’t capture him without additional reinforcements.

Darius could not let this chance slip by, although he couldn’t capture Coron now, he could still get some information from him. He slowly walked up to the group of people, looking as calm and collected as possible.

“Pardon me, are you familiar with this area?” he asked politely, “As you can see, my friend here is injured quite badly and he needs medical treatment as soon as possible. Do you know where we could find this sort of treatment?”

Foxfire turned to the newcomers. "I'm afraid that there's only a few minor doctors here. If you require serious assistance, there's a city called Providence a few miles into the woods by the sea. We'd offer to help but we're in a bit of a hurry."

~ Coron was slightly taken aback that Zanziuer knew his family just by the sash he bore.

Did he fight alongside my uncle as well?

The rebel could not help but wonder. True, Rejikian colors were noticeable from great distances, but to tell that a piece of cloth belonged to a certain family ... one would have had to seen it beforehand. Either that, or Zanziuer was very learned in the history of Halien.

Still, he nodded in agreement to the merc's contract, and finished the verbal agreement (one he had memorized due to the RRV's constant need of help).

" In acception with the stipulations of the Mercenary Codex, I, Coron Ekken, vow to uphold the Laws of Service, in which payment, terms of contract or contracts, and conclusion of service are laid out. If I am killed or die in any incident by my own doing or natural or spiritual causes, you are, in accordance with the Mercenary Codex, released from service and are free to collect all earned pay from my organization."

As he finished, the two other men came upon them. One looked horrible, as if he had been wounded in battle almost, and the other seemed somewhat shady. Perhaps it was the intensity of his blue eyes, but something seemed to put Coron on his guard as his hand reflexively rested on the pommel of Wazara-Kaiso-Battusai, though it wasn't a noticeable movement.

He focused again on the men just in time to hear the blue-eyed one ask, “As you can see, my friend here is injured quite badly and he needs medical treatment as soon as possible. Do you know where we could find this sort of treatment?”

Foxfire responded in kind, but Coron could honestly say that he wasn't all that familiar with Oroil. Unfortunately, if he showed that, it would mean that he wasn't Oroilian at all, and it was quite rare for a heavily-armed person to be in a region they weren't from unless they were up to something that the RATG wouldn't appreciate. Thinking quickly, though perhaps against his better judgement, he suddenly blurted out,

" You can come with us, if you'd like, to Providence. There are bandits within the area, and I'm sure we could offer some protection."

Spirits Damn it! Why in Halien would I do that?

Coron knew he had screwed up the minute he started speaking. He wasn't getting the best vibe from these men, and now he was stuck with them until they got to Providence. Plus, with them around, he couldn't very well try and contact the Oroilian resistance. Coron had learned all too well what happened to careless RRV agents who accepted aid from people who later turned them right in to the Arnans.

It's hard to trust anyone these days ...~

Foxfire turned to glare at Coron. Idiot! he seethed, now we're going to have these guys with us all the way to Providence! They'll only slow us down, who knows who they are? Letting none of his inner anger show, Foxfire said calmly "Yes, we'll escort you to Providence. Follow us."

By reflex,Zan's hands twitched to get a hold of the dagger.He was getting a similar sensation from the men as when he'd been in the presence of the Black Devils.

It was a well-known fact that they were a 'secret' unit of trained killers,cracking open fortresses that not even other elite units could open,by virtue of superior skills in assassination,scouting,stealth tactics,swordmastery and unarmed combat.That they had not been deployed to destroy the RRV was a blessing in itself.

It was one of the few times he'd felt truly uncomfortable around people,not least because of the ruthlesness and fanaticism that they'd displayed.The King's personal fanatics,the initial training killed 1 in 3 of the trainess due to its brutality.In any case,they were a crack unit loyal only to the King,and were famed for a single Black Devil Captain allegedly killing several Shadow Guard rogues who'd attempted an assassination on the King unarmed.

They were also among the few individuals who were in the same tier of unarmed combat skill as him.He'd beaten many by a hairs width margin of luck,and been defeated by some of them as well,though all the matches had been close.

He shifted closer to Coron.He was a literate mercenary,unlike many others,and enjoyed reading a good book.Particularly,he was interested in the histories of the profession he was involved in.The sash that Coron wore was noted as belonging to Ganoul Ekken, a man who'd served the Mercenary King with much loyalty,and whom Yusio Kurwaski had been known to comment as one of the few men who could kill him, a compliment by any measure.

His choice was decidedly...unwise.He moved in close,whispering into Coron's ear;

"Sir,that was a bad choice,being honest with you.Should I be friendly and talke to them,lead them on to believing we're only a group of travelers?Better they think we're shady rogues than rebels if I say so myself.What will it be sir?"

~ Coron gave Zanziuer a slight nod of approval. Right that instant, Coron wished for a lot of things, though.

He wished he weren't carrying not one, but two swords. He wished that his sash was hidden, or that he wasn't wearing it at all. Lastly, he wished that his wanted poster wasn't up through all of Halien.

Even if these men weren't Arnans, the reward for his capture was almost too tempting for anyone. Already, Coron had had to injure, incapacitate, and once even kill a regular citizen because they had tried to seize his bounty.

Still, he knew he stuck out: Coron didn't look Oroilian at all, he was with a band that also didn't look native (save for perhaps Foxfire), and that band happened to be carrying an assortment of weaponry, one of which bore a Rejikian Crest on its scabbard.

They were, in all essence, screwed. Coron, out of fear, had spoken out of turn, and essentially almost handed the group's fate over to these people. Still, there was hope.

Perhaps Zanziuer's gift of tounges can get us out of this ...~

"You can come with us, if you'd like, to Providence. There are bandits within the area, and I'm sure we could offer some protection."

"Thank you, we appreciate your generosity. If we were ambushed by bandits we would have been done for."

Darius smiled to himself, feeling overwhelming joy for his accomplishment. He would finally get a chance to observe Coron and his group of rebels without attracting too much suspicion. As he thought to himself, Darius noticed one of the men quickly whisper something in Coron's ear while giving him a cold, untrusting look. Darius started to get worried, he had to win the trust of these people somehow, and fast.

"How rude of me, my name is Alden Spiritus," he said, making up a name on the spot, "and you are...?"

Off the top of his head,Zanzieur concocted the most bizarre,disarming plan he could think of.Odds were against them not recognising Coron.His face was posted in all major towns.

He would pretend that he was a merc interested in handing in Coron for the bounty and would act distrustful of the strangers.He was distrustful of them of course,but he would lead them to believe his distrust was for another reason; greed.

At the same time,he would also pretend to be attracted to one or both of the men at the same time,so as to really cause chaos in their minds.He knew of people who were attracted to members of their own gender,labeled queer,and a large number of them were friends of his in the past.He of course was quite attracted to women,and intended it to remain that way.He could play the part,given a faculty for competent acting.He was not a superb actor by any means,and not formally schooled in the subject,but he was proficient enough for the purpose at hand.

He leaned in once more and whispered into Coron's ear;

"I'm about to perform some very strange actions over the course of the next few weeks or so,as long as these people are following us.Please be informed that I will require you to follow the flow of things and try to react as naturally as you can to an abnormal situation..."

Turning,he walked toward the one who called himself Alden.Nearing him,he stared straight into his eyes and reached out to shake his hand in introduction.

"Name's Zan.You may call me Zan.And your hands are so...soft."

As he turned, he flung what he hoped was a slightly flirtatious glance back over his shoulder and winked.Inside,he cringed.Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Foxfire winced and he heard Holly gag slightly behind him. That's got to be an act. Foxfire thought. At least, I hope so... He saw Zan wink at them. Ah. It is an act. Thank the Gods. Foxfire smiled and bit his tounge to keep from laughing.

~ I've seen a lot of things ... but this is by far the best ...

Coron stifled all his emotion, bottling it and stuffing it as deep down as possible. His face showed no sign of betraying his true feelings, which were confusion, suspicision, and, undeniably, humor. In fact, his expression had not changed at all since the initial meeting of these people.

Deciding it not his place to intrude on Zan's "courtship", Coron merely watched on with repressed content, hoping that this would put the two off-guard and, maybe, sway them to think that sticking with the 4 person group would be a bad idea.

Knowing that turning away or looking down would express unfamiliarity with such a scenario, Coron decided it best to look straight ahead at the proceedings. Hopefully, his self-discipline would carry out.

Spirits help me not to laugh ...~

*bump* to keep this alive ...

As he finished with the greetings,Zan saw a familiar face appear in a group and felt his blood run cold.

A Black Devil....

Slowly,the memories came back to him.Of the massacre,of the countless innocent slaughtered,of the people he'd failed to save.All at the hands of the Black Devils.

Fire licked at the buildings,the village burning.Zanzieur tried to cover his troops as they imprisoned as many of the villagers as they could covertly,letting them escape the massacre.Better that they suffer as prisoners that be exposed to the machinations of the Devils.

The Black Devils had been tasked with destroying this cluster of villages,purging the area of rebel influence.A politically motivated ploy of the King to rid the area of exiled aristocrats.The Black Devils had taken the extreme measure of committing genocide of the entire population.Even the Shadow Guard regiment tasked with them had been aghast at the measure.Of course,none of them had seen fit to countermand the Black Devil Major in charge of the entire operation.

Just then,a small contingent of Devils appeared.Their faces concealed by the masks that inspired fear and dread in all who witnessed them.

"Who is in charge of this operation?"

"Me." Zan came forward,making a cutting motion for his troops to continue.Perhaps he could bluff his way out of this.Tell them that they were planning to interrogate them.

"We wish to congratulate you Lt Zanzieur.My name is Sergeant-Major Khurash.Your initiative in rounding them up is commendable,but your orders were to kill them."

Without elaborating further,he reached out for an infant and twisted its neck.It's mother screamed as she threw herself against the soldier.In an instant,he had taken his blade and gutted her from trunk to head.

As he did,Black Devils appeared en masse,entering the cages where the unarmed villagers huddled together.Some used their hands and feet,lashing out and breaking necks and skulls.Others doused the cages in oil,before casting ingots of flaming fuel into them.

Without a chance to talk,without a chance to save them at all,Zan watched as the villagers screamed.And all he could do,along with the rest of his company,was avert his eyes.

"Khurash..."

~ The name was whispered, and Coron just barely caught it.

" Khurash..."

He knew the name too. Khurash: a Leader of the Black Devils. They had destroyed several villages in Rejiki, butchering all they came across. If one had finally found him, he would not be able to escape: they would summon the rest of their cursed assassins, capture him, torture him, and then kill him.

We need to move ... Now ...

" Well," he began in a long, friendly tone, " We should really get moving, shouldn't we? We've a lot of ground to cover if we wish to make it their before nightfall, right?"

With courage, Coron turned his back on the Black Devil (most likely a foolish move is he was recognized), gripped the handle of Wazara-Kaiso-Battusai, and took the first steps forward ...~

"Yes." said Foxfire, on edge now "We need to leave. Now."
OOC: This thing is so dead it's not even funny