Daryl smirked whistled a little tune for a second then snapped back to his senses. "Ah apologies I'm not used to company!" Taking another sip of tea Daryl motioned to the Maid. "She charged my 20 Keil for a meal and this tea! And judging by the look on her face now I would have had a fair price had you came over sooner!" Daryl winked to show he was only joking and drank more of his tea.
A part of Daryl seemed to be paying attention to seemingly unimportant details about Damien, his body language, posture, his weapon, yet as soon as these observations were made Daryl became unaware he had made them.
"So you get bored being a Mage?" Daryl said a little to loudly which generated a dozen gasps all of which Daryl seemed not to notice.
Lorel woke up in the middle of the night and walked over to the window, pulling back the curtains revealing the lights of the snow covered city. For a Lower Class District, Rell was quite lively and peaceful. He decided to settle downstairs and get a drink and some food. Going downstairs many people were still around tables, having fun times with others. Scanning over the room, he saw an empty table in the corner and so he waltzed up to it and sat down.
In the middle of the table was a sheet of paper that obviously had been held many times before. On it was a list of food, ranging from simple soup to high quality steak. The Rusty Blade seemed to be a gem in the rough. Reading off of the list, the Steak would be Fifteen Keil, which he had well over enough. After a few minutes, the same Maid that had approached him earlier comes up to the table. Her hair was light dark red, put into a bundle; her skin was olive but tan, and dark blue eyes. Quite beautiful, Lorel thought.
"I remember you from earlier, you wish to order something?"
Lorel looked at the sheet quickly but then put it down. "Yup, I would like the Steak."
She wrote down on a small notepad. "Alright, you will have it in twenty minutes."
The maid walked away and began to get orders from other tables. Lorel continued to sit down quietly.
"All the time, it becomes rather boring after a while. Everyone fears you, and soon enough, you are like an abomination to them. Nobody wants to be around you, and even though you are in charge of pretty much the entire city, you've never felt more alone in your life." Damien chuckled, sitting back in his chair and relaxing for the second time today.
I don't know why I'm telling this stranger everything about the way I think, but for some reason he isn't like the others. I feel like I can actually trust him, and maybe that's why I'm telling him everything... Damien thought, taking another swig of Ale before leaning back in his chair and watching the others around the pub.
"So, what do you do for a living? Besides being a courier of course." Damien asked, thinking that he should know a little about this man before revealing anything else about his life.
Auldous walked towards the inn, pulling his coat in to try and keep the cold out, though the mail he was wearing underneath made that hard during the bitter winters that plagued the city. It didn't matter, though, he knew a pint of the good stuff would keep the chills away for a while. Walking with the cigar in his mouth, he looked like some kind of humanoid steam machine, smoke and his breath billowing out over him in the wind. He finally reached the Pig & Whistle, his favored tavern in the lower district, and stepped inside. The barkeep instinctively knew what Auldous wanted, and poured him a pint of the woody alcohol that he had come to love. Grabbing a chair at a vacant table, he sat down and went over the week's events.
His last job had paid well, particularly for a bank heist. There was more in the vault then the client had estimated, so the excess was left to be divided up between him and the others who had been hired. Not a bad cut for a day's work. Particularly when the other's had been 'persuaded' to give up their cut of the extra. As he was sitting at the table thinking, a man walked by and slipped a piece of paper under his drink. Auldous sat up and grabbed the paper- the man who had delivered it was gone. Looking over the rather plain paper though, he noticed a familiar mark on it- a red stain. Unfolding it, he noticed writing from a familiar hand-
We know you're looking for work, so we thought we'd send this your way. Someone needs a package taken from outside the Rusty Blade and delivered to the Upper District markets. We're no couriers, but a job like this should be easy money for you.
Folding the paper back up and stuffing it in his pocket, he paid for his drink and departed for the Rusty Blade.
Being new to the Dragon's Tooth, Myra was still getting dirty looks from the other tavern girls. Another server meant less tips to go around between them, and she hadn't yet gotten paid enough to offer them some of her own share so animosity was running high. When one of the maids came back to the kitchen where Myra'd been helping she was in a huff.
"Great, the Mage has made a friend. One less person we can charge the full account..." She scowled about before brightening upon spotting Myra, grinning with mischief. "Hey, new girl, ever served a Mage?"
Myra blinked, but quickly realized the woman was trying to spook her and played along so as not to be suspicious. "N-No."
The maid took her place with the soup. "Here's your chance then. Come on, git. If he likes your pretty face maybe he'll lock you up a tower somewhere in Upper District and do... horrible... mage things." Obviously not a gifted teller of spooky tales, this one.
"I w-wouldn't want to bother him..." Myra stammered, not having to fake the nerves that took hold of her. A Mage from the Upper District might recognize her, although the chance was slim, kept away from the world even of the Academy as much as she'd been. The maid smelled victory though, and gave Myra a strong push into the main room.
She spotted him even without having to recognize him. He stood out, after all. And no doubt this was the regular the maids so dreaded, so if she was going to stay at the Dragon's Tooth she'd have to meet him some time. Better to find out if she had to flee as early as possible, before she got attached to anyone.
She approached the Mage with a warm if nervous smile. "There anything else I can get you, sir?" She asked, noticing he already had an ale.
"I'm good for now actually, thanks for asking. Would you like to sit and have a drink with us, I'll pay for it myself if you want, god knows my research funds never get used for anything anyway..." Damien laughed, motioning for the girl to take a seat if she wanted to.
Damien thought back to his room in the Mage Tower, and all of the money he had saved in his vault beneath the tower. Damien had literally mounds of Kier that went unspent, but he could only withdraw a little at a time unless it goes towards research. Damien didn't really mind, he rarely pulled out money anyway.
Daryl listened intently to all that Damien had to say that unknown part of his mind analysing Damien, though of course Daryl just thought he was a pleasant young man. "Well that's it really!" Daryl admitted, "Though I courier anything I can carry for a client to any part of the City they need it sent to! Keeps me busy!"
It was at this point that a new maid came over, she seemed less afraid than the other, possibly more honest.
"Yes do join us!" Daryl said wondering where the other maid had gone with his casserole. "The more the merrier!" Going back to Damien he said. "There's no reason to be any more afraid of Mages than there is to be afraid of Nobles, no offence of course mi Lord" Daryl said respectfully going into formal speech for a moment. "Come," Daryl said to the maid reaching over to pat the chair. "Give young Damien another reason to stay! the rats don't nibble away at young women, you'll give us good luck you will!" Daryl blinked not quite understanding what he said.
Daryl drank more of his tea.
Ralin put the note away and drank his "Dragon Kiss". It's a sour, bubbly, beer-like beverage that left its citrus flavor in your mouth for four days until finally it becomes super spicy and then fades away.
He stood up and pulled a rope swinging next to his head. A metal claw grabbed the glass, and rolled back up to the ceiling. Ralin put on his coat and left the bar. He headed for the road leading towards the Upper district.
Unable to fall asleep because of the noise below, Zavior got up and decided to join the people in the bar of The Rusty Blade. He needed some fun after killing those three Red Stain members anyway.
Zavior scanned the room, looking an empty table or anyone he knew, particuarly the Courier for the Red Stain he met earlier that day. His eyes wandered to the empty corner table, just as a young man sat down in it and ordered something.
Zavior recognized the man. It was Lorel Ion, last member of the Ion family and banished from the Upper District for his family's crimes. It happened a few months ago, but Zavior was in the area when the Upper Guards threw him out of the District. He was unable to do anything to help him then.
No. He had a lead on the location of the Red Stain: The Courier. He was probably one of many, but Zavior now knows of at least one. He can work to find him or other Red Stain couriers now and move himself into the Upper Class later. Or even destroy it.
A plan for revolution began to form in Zavior's head.
But now was the time for food and drink. He sat at another empty table and ordered some food.
Shiba walked into his master house, who stood up holding a bag of coins, "Well done! Another winning fight!" he called out. Shiba glared at him, "That wasn't a fight, closer to a slaughter" he said as he walked over and and took off his armour. The weight getting off his shoulder felt terrific, but he still couldn't shake the guilt he felt.
He went over and grabbed a jacket, it was almost fully black, but had white trimmings over the folds. He let the buttons open, preferring to not do them up. "I'm going out for a bit" he said as he grabbed a pile of money off of the table and walked out. His master had become lenient after he won the championship, becoming a fairly nice master, rather than the harsh one he used to be.
He found the gate quickly, it was rarely used this way other than with merchants. The guards looked at him, and he dropped a coin, and was given a pass to return back later on in the day.
Once he got to the MIddle district, he asked the first person he saw if he knew the Righten family. Luckily, he did, he pointed him to the direction of their house and Shiba gave him a coin for his troubles. The man's face lit up and ran off joyously. 'Odd...' he thought as he walked off in the direction he was pointed towards.
He found the house, if you could call it that. It didn't have 4 walls. He sighed and knocked on the side wall, there was no privacy and no wall at the front. A lady opened the door, she was fairly well fed, apparently her late husband must have given her most of the food. She wa sin tears after hearing about what happened to him earlier.
He didn't know what to say, so he just handed her the a bag full of coins and left, not wanting to see her face any more. He just kept walking for a while, thought he might explore for a while, he doubted he could sleep tonight.
He walked past an inn, or a tavern, he wasn't quite sure, but he went in anyway. He stood out in the crowd, he was really the only one not drunk and the only one well dressed and fed. He showed the sheaths of his blades to them all, and their gazes dropped quickly. He smiled as he realised that no-one here would fight him. At least in the open.
He walked over and slumped into a chair. He called over one of the maids and ordered himself a drink, it was going to be a long night.
Myra glanced at the kitchen a moment before sitting at the offered chair sheepishly. "Thank you." She murmured quietly, unable quite to resist an opportunity to hear about what had gone on in Upper District since her disappearance, despite how dangerous it might be for her to talk to him. "Um. Damien, is it? Nice to meet you. And you sir? What's your name?"
Soon his food came, and he immediately began to eat it. The smell was overwhelming and the taste only complimented it. It was truly high class, just as good as Upper District. He began to wonder why an Inn with such foods would be stationed in a Lower District. After he finished, he waited for the Maid to come back over, so he could give them the Fifteen Keil. Once she came over, he asked her why this Inn was here in Rell.
"It's here in Rell, because Adul Jen wishes it will help this district by bringing in more people."
"Good, well here is the money. I am going to go out for a bit." He handed her the Fifteen Keil and he walked up to the door and outside. Even though it was getting late, the district was bustling, a rare sight in lower districts. Maybe it could become a middle class district, Lorel thought. Though even with the many people, others were on the side of the streets, dying of hunger and hypothermia. For the most part, he blended in with everyone else, with his ripped pants that he had to patch with a red and blue cloth, made him seem like most others. Though his jacket was higher quality than the rest.
On a small brick bridge, a man was playing a violin, others were around and giving him money. The music was gentile and so he took ten Keil and threw it in the straw hat and the man nodded his head. Lorel continued to listen and leaned against the side of the bridge.
Kain screamed in the dank, dark sewer in isolation. Two weeks had passed since his flight from the district had begun but he has still gotten nowhere. From what he could hear from above during the day he was a couple of blocks away from the markets. It might be time to head for the surface and travel from there tonight and learn what's going on.
Kain opened the the manhole quietly and left out of the alley way he was in. People were still walking about and the stores were still open for now. Kain approached a pedestrian and asked, "Do you have a copy of the paper on you?" "No but the evening paper has just been put up." the bystander replied. "Thanks." Kain moved on and bought the paper using some coins he pocketed from a citizen. He skimmed it, looking for news about him. Thankfully the only the news on him was just mentioning the investigation into his crimes but they still haven't found out who he is yet.
Kain was relieved and thought for the first time of sleeping in a hotel for the first time tonight. He lugged his feet through the snow to the Amara Inn, placed a 50 Kiel and asked for a room for the night. "Oh and may I please have some mead? Along with say, some pork?" After setting down a order Kain picked a seat at the window.
Jack slipped out of the ally and began to head west. Now that night had fallen and the streets were clear, he could continue his journey towards the west coast of The City. He had been working his way over towards the coast for over a year now. He had begun after he had received a message from one of the other Jacks. It seems that one of the factions had managed to kill one of the Jacks. The other Jacks had managed to retrieve and preserve the body, waiting for Jack's arrival to start the funeral.
Jack sighed. He didn't even know which Jack had been killed, the message he had received had been scrambled by magical interference, most likely from the Upper District. He hoped that he was nearing the place where the other Jacks had set up camp, he hadn't received word from them at all during his trip from the east coast. He hoped they would signal again soon.
When Kain's order came he dug in, savoring every bite and sip like it as it was his first meal in a week. He staved off dehydration by drinking the sewer water. Kain looked out the window after his meal and pondered what to do the next morning. Take the streets and travel more ground and risk being spotted or take the sewers by day and the surface by night. He needs to know the news at the moment so for now he'll stay on the surface. His scar was starting to pain and was thankful his bandages were covering it at the moment, it might give him away if someone were to look under it. So far the vision on his left side was getting blurrier and blurrier each day. It won't be long until he's blind in that side.
Two noble woman were talking at the table near him. "Did you hear? Word's going around that the officials are closing in on the identity of the 'Historian Thief'." "Who?" The other woman replied, "Who are we talking about?" "Oh Nev I'm talking about the thief who's been robbing the mage's artifacts for the past two years now, don't you read the news?" The girl named Nev carefully said, "O-o-of course I have yeah, how did they catch him?" The snobbish woman explained, "Well apparently he was going after the possessions of the Great Mages from the Great War-" "War?" "My god Nev don't you know anything?!?" The snobbish woman continued, "They've been keeping watch on those items so they ambushed him in the museum, he got away but because of the recent fighting he's still probably here in the district."
Kain couldn't help but eavesdrop as it seems like he's screwed at the moment. There's no way he's going to get in the Middle District at this rate. He's stuck and it won't be long before someone finds him. No! He can't think that way or he'll never get out. The sewers must lead out of the district away from the fighting and he probably has a few days to navigate the city. He'll have to take a risk and travel by the streets all day tomorrow. He went up to his room and out of his coat pulled out his book. "The Secrets of the Arcane Arts" was a book he stole before getting caught at the museum. Kain saw it as a chance to fulfill his childhood dream of being a magician. So far he can't understand any of it. It's written in an old language which he has spent the last two weeks trying to translate but can only read the first sentence at the moment. Kain lit a candle, opened the book and sat down to for another attempt.
Dayl laughed, heartily. "Oh mi Lovely I 'aint no Sir!" Daryl still laughed, but managed not to make a comment about termites eating your brain.
"Just call me Daryl, and if you need anything taken anywhere just ask me" Daryl winked, all the while taking in the little quirks about this shy young woman and then forgetting he ever had.
"And what might your name be? You keep my friend and I in great suspense!" Daryl poured himself another cup of tea.
The girl smiled at him, stifling a laugh at his cheery disposition. "My name's Myra." A common enough name even in the slum districts that it didn't seem to attract her much attention from anyone who knew her. "So... To what are you gentlemen drinking tonight? Is this a celebration of some kind?"
"Myra? Myra, a pretty name." The first maid came back and gave Daryl his Casserole, she seemed to be scowling at Myra but to afraid to say anything. Daryl had to try very hard not to laugh.
"Oh don't be upset, Myra here is providing us an invaluable service!"
Daryl took a few bites of his casserole and looked very approving.
"Drinking to?" Daryl, asked looking to Damien. "Well I don't think we were....Meeting knew people is good enough for me though!" Daryl said motioning a cheers with his mug and taking another sip of tea.
"So tell me Myra, why is it you're not afraid of Damien here like everyone else in the room?" Daryl gave Damien a wink to show the question was in jest.
Zavior awoke and left The Rusty Dagger. Nice place, good food. Zavior thought. But I have to find The Courier...
Zavior went to the nearby District 35, a low class district next to Rell. This was where he first saw The Courier and where he will try to find him again. This time, he will follow him over the rooftops.
Rooftop hopping was not hard in the Low Class areas of the city. Buildings were packed together leaving only small allys easily jumped over. If he did fall, there was about 12 inches of snow on the ground, so he wouldn't break too many bones.
After asking a few commoners about the Red Stain, he obtained the location of one of the pubs they frequently go. Zavior went into the building next door and got on the roof. He hopped over to the pub's roof. Now he just had to wait for anybody wearing red and white cloaks, like The Courier Zavior met yesterday.
A few hours passed and nobody interesting entered. Then he noticed someone wearing red and white come from a building across the street. He stayed for only a few minutes before leaving quickly, as if he didn't want to be followed.
Zavior jumped across the roofs following the man from above. Now the fun begins...
He stood alone, surrounded by faces he didn't know. He was dreaming, at least he thought so... They stared at him with mixed emotions. Some happy, some angry. Some sad, some calm. Then they spoke, in unison. "You are with blue blood." Kid stepped back. "What? What does that mean?" The grew closer, chanting the same phrase over and over. "You are with blue blood." Kid "S-Stay back!" "You are with blue blood." "Get away get away!" He curled up into a ball.
Kid woke up, about to hit his head on the 'roof'. He was breathing heavily. "Blue blood..." He couldn't sleep anymore and climbed out of the hole, grabbing on to the side of the wall and climbing up to the top of the building. He reached the top and looked at the sky. "What does blue blood mean...?" He looked down at the city. I heard that dreams mean something... I gotta find out... He ran off the building and grabbed onto a rope that was hanging on a pole. He slid down it and let go half way down the building, where it stopped. He reached out quickly and grabbed the side of the building and waited for a few seconds to catch his breath. He then began climbing down till he saw a store with a cloth roof. He jumped onto it, and thus fell through. "Owie! I was sure that would hold me, it worked before..." He stood up and brushed himself off before running off to find someone who knew what it meant.
Zavior followed the man he thought was a Red Stain courier. He was running across the rooftops to the edge of District 35. So far the man didn't notice Zavior. The man stopped outside a dark alley. Zavior couldn't see who he was talking to.
The man got something out of his pocket and gave it to the other man in the shadows. Something glinted in the morning light and the man Zavior was following stumbled into the street and fell, face into the snow. A red splotch was slowly spreading across the snow.
Zavior jumped over to the alley, but couldn't see anybody there. He looked around more but still couldn't find anyone.
"Looking for someone?"
Zavior slowly turned around and was greeted by The Courier.
"How..." Zavior stammered.
"You are following us for some reason. I don't know why, but you won't be much longer."
The Courier stabbed at Zavior, but he stepped back, forgetting about the roof, and fell.
Myra watched Daryl in no small amount of amazement, first for his easy deflection of the other tavern maid, and then for the insight of his question. Hardly an attitude and aptitude that matched his appearance. She shrugged her shoulder a bit at the question, not particularly sure how to answer without incriminating herself. "Mages aren't scary. Sometimes what they do is scary, but that's different, isn't it?" She fiddled with her fingers. "Damien seems nice, and if he wasn't he'd already be using magic to mess with people, which he isn't." She added, then bit the inside of her cheek to control any reaction to her own stupidity. Of course, she knew he wasn't using magic, but how would a simple barmaid know?
"Its quiet an interesting thing that you know I'm not using magic. How might you know that though? I could be using a simple spell that is unnoticeable to normal civilians, but for some reason you believe I'm not doing anything." Damien asked, turning to look at Myra with interest.
He didn't ask with an accusing tone, but more of a questioning tone. He had no idea how she had known that he wasn't using any magic, but he wanted to find out if she'd be willing to tell him.
Myra flushed with color, cheeks turning pink at the predicament she'd talked herself into. Usually she didn't have such trouble watching her tongue because most people she talked to knew next to nothing about how Mage powers worked. "I, uh... Assumed, sir. I've seen quite a bit of magic, in my time, and thought I'd recognize it..." She tucked her hair behind her ear in another nervous gesture, resisting the instinctive urge to raise some magical defenses in case her fumbling didn't go over well.
From the moment Myra mentioned not seeing any magic Daryl went out of focus He was fully attentive to the girls entire demeanour, once she finished speaking Daryl shook his head and forgot the moment had happened.
"Come now Damien!" Daryl exclaimed "Don't interrogate the girl! I rarely get the company of such pretty young ladies! Usually only Rats and bugs, keep nibbling at your pockets they do, gotta watch your coin from the rats the sneaky blighters." Daryl took another sip of tea and continued as if what he had just said was the most completely normal thing to say.
"We've all seen a Mage use magic. Big blasts of fire, Freezing a mans feet to the ground! We'd certainty see it if you did summin' like that now wouldn' we! Pretty Myra here wouldn't know much better would she?" Daryl inquired. "No offence to your intelligence Myra" he finished almost as an afterthought.
"I wasn't interrogating her, I was merely intrigued by the fact she knew I wasn't using magic. You have a special talent Myra." Damien said, "besides, large shows of magic isn't the only magic there is you know. There are more subtle things as well..."
Damien leaned back in his chair and sighed, taking another sip of his ale before placing it back on the table and snapping his fingers so that a small flame sputtered into life a few inches above his fingers. The fire was an emerald green, a special talent Damien had learned that most of the other mages found quite amusing. Damien made no sign that he was going to attack anyone, and he tried to keep the flames as small and conspicuous as possible.
"You know Myra, the Mages would love to have someone with your talent... so we'll just keep your talent between us shall we?" Damien asked, looking at her. He knew that if the mages found someone with her talent, she would be shipped away to the tower to be questioned and she would then be put through the test to see if she had any magical talent.
Auldous finally reached his destination. The Rusty Sword wasn't a bad place at all, as far as he was concerned. It just lacked that atmosphere the Pig & Whistle had that he'd grown rather fond of. Regardless, he wasn't here to debatet he merits of the inns and taverns throughout the city- he had a job to do. Ducking into the alley beside the Rusty Sword, he saw the package he needed to deliver, a medium-sized wooden crate. Picking it up, he noticed how deceptively heavy the crate was for it's size. "Now how in the hell am I gonna sneak this into the Upper District?" he muttered to himself.
Setting the crate back down, he sat on it to think over his plan. He knew the sewers nearby would take him into the Upper District, but how he'd get it to the markets from there was anybody's guess. "Oh well," he said, standing back up and picking the crate back up, "Guess I'll just cross that bridge when I get there."
Myra tensed a moment before the flame flickered into life, feeling that tingle of alien magic over her skin. She'd never had any skill with fire, a weakness of hers that had always disappointed her tutors, that had hoped she might make a good battlemage, but her powers tended toward gentler magics: Water, Air, and a bit of Earth. She could make soil rich again, clear away clouds for sun, and purify water, and happily used those gifts in whatever district she found herself, but when it came to fighting...
In those situations she used her air magic to incapacitate and ran. Hid in the earth sometimes until they were gone. And she expected, when Damien looked upon her knowingly and spoke of talent, she felt the urge to hid again, until he said...
He'd keep her a secret. She blinked at him in surprise, not expecting that kindness from a stranger, especially one from the Upper District. Most from there assumed that she'd have been thrilled to be taken into the Academy and rescued from squalor. "Thank you." She said with fervent sincerity, her heart lifting at the prospect that she might have found someone who wouldn't want to turn her in. She was excited enough that she let a lick of wind tickle the emerald flame, making it dance in a brighter wave for a moment.
"It was nothing, and if you ever need a place to stay or your looking for a good book to read, just stop by my tower and they'll let you in." Damien said nodding, "Not all of us mages are cruel heartless bastards..."
Damien saw the emerald flame flicker, and his eyes darted over to Myra who didn't appear to have done anything. Damien then looked around and noted that nobody had moved, and no windows were open. He didn't say anything, and shrugged the thought off for the moment, enjoying his ale with the others for now.
"Hmm... Who knows what it means... A Mage will! Mages know stuff! I think..." He wandered round the district going from bar to bar asking for a Mage, usually getting no reply. One reason could be there were no mages there or that someone of his look would not be able to pay them for there services. He eventually arrived in the upper district after a long while coming across 'The Dragon's Tooth'. Kid looked at the sign, unknowing what it said due to his lack of reading ability. "Hmmm..." He opened up the door and was met with the bar suddenly going silent, save a few people, and unpleasent looks. "Is there a Mage in here?"
Daryl remained silent and finished his casserole, He Noticed the flicker as well, Daryl didn't. Looking outside Daryl saw that it was getting dark out. "Well I'm damned how time flies when you're having fun!"
Daryl stretched. "Well you two I don't suppose you've heard of anyone who needs a package delivered?" Daryl poured the last of his tea and slid the empty pot into the middle of the table.
"Excuse me for a moment Daryl, I'll be right back inside." Damien said, rising from his chair and letting the green flame extinguish.
Damien walked over to the man who had just walked in the pub and asked if there were any mages. Damien walked past him whispering as he walked, "Get outside now you fool."
Damien then continued on outside, into the cool night air. He wanted to get away from the others if this man needed a mage, not wanting to display his power to them if the man needed help with a robbery or an attack. Damien walked across the street and stopped near an alley that led back into the darkness.
Falling down three stories would normally kill someone, but Zavior's flailing left arm caught a second story window on the way down. It slowed his fall enough that he was knocked out by the landing, not killed. It also severly damaged his shoulder, but he was lying face up, unconcience in the snow.
The Courier looked down and left him for dead.