The Seven Assassins (Fantasy RP)(Started, Closed)

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Your note, maybe it was meant for somebody else? I mean, I mean, what could a doctor do f-for you anyway..
Dareon, unphased, gave a look over the Snow elf and grinned, ''No, you're who I'm after. Kaddika. You fill out our medical role. If someone loses an arm or a leg, you're our man. Not to mention your Ice abilities, or the fact that nightime snooping for you should be easy, you being a Snow elf and all.''

Telesse sat there for a moment, shaking the notion of all the gold for a moment, only to imagine losing an arm or a foot. Shivering.

"Gold? I like gold! But can I have a magic stone instead? Maybe a magic marble, one that can take me anywhere!"

Felldryt begin to spin the stool at a rapid rate and laugh, before his sword finally overbalanced him and he fell to the floor. His laugh continued, though was somewhat stifled from hitting his, as he rolled over and sat where he fell.

Hrothius Tenator walked up the dock in his default state of buzzed. He was laughing to himself about the oddness of what he was doing. Following some vague letter promising work that he very much didn't need. But it sounded like a challenge he had not yet faced and a chance to meet some fellow warriors. There were several kind things to say about the man but "humble" was not one of them. Not in the slightest. In fact he was wearing his full gladiatorial costume in the hopes to be recognized by some awestruck fan. Though he was a long way from home and the arena, but he had been touring the lands spreading his good name. It was his first time stepping within this great city. He found himself struck by the scope of what he was walking into.

The door opened in the tavern and Hrothius shaped his hands into an imaginary trumpet. "Introducing "Rex Gladiatores"Hrothius Tenator!" He smacked the bar and proclaimed, "Everybody's food and drink is going to be paid by me while I'm here!" He looked over,squinting, at the odd variety of creatures and people sitting next to him and said, "Greetings!" Waving his hand revealing a gnarled pinky and ring finger awkwardly wrapped together.

For the time being, Marcelle decided to simply observe as events unfolded around her. This meeting was proving to be somewhat interesting, what with cloaked figures apparently appearing out of nowhere. Besides, it would be useful for her to listen in on an Inquisitor meeting... assuming everyone there didn't really mind her presence, or at least forgot.

"Everybody's food and drink is going to be paid by me while I'm here!"
Telesse cringed, there must be at least 20 people here, not counting their own little group, what is this man thinking?
''Dareon, he's not joining is he, please tell me, this is a bad idea, oh please...''

Dareon flipped through the dossiers and found one Hrothius Tenator. ''Nng-nope, he's in, we don't particularly need him, but assuming a plan goes awry he'd at least be able to create a suitable distraction.''


''A gladiator? For a low profile mission....what am I funding your division for again?'' Tasina watched as he leaned against the smooth marble pillar to the left of her desk. It wasn't load-bearing, but many offices of her size prop ones like them up to feign the grandeur of larger rooms.
''You can take a seat if you want'' she motioned to the scribe's desk to the right of the room. Idarion shook his head defiantly.

''He won't be an issue. His comfort zone is half a world away, probably near The Grange* from my guess. Either way, most here would just consider him a loud mercenary. Besides, that group could use a heavy lifter''

Kaddika flinched reflexively when the burly man stormed in, though his thoughts were elsewhere as the newcomer approached the bar and continued shouting inanely about greetings and free drinks. The elf slowly sat down on the nearby stool, still warm from before the short man toppled off.

More worried thoughts streamed through his mind. He'd been in the city for less than a day, and already he felt in over his head. Assassins, missing limbs, mysterious dossiers, an inquisitor...

A drop of alcohol had never wet his tongue, but now Kaddika was seriously considering taking up Mr. Tenator on his offer.

The rooftops
''Here are the 3 places we'll strike tonight'' The large cloaked one whispered. The others nodded intently.
''You, and you alone, will infiltrate the Embassy towers.'' He said, pointing towards a red haired young woman.'' Councillor Idarion is your target. Eliminate him, and then return to Base 2.'' The young man brandished a dagger, before hopping down the roof towards his destination.

''The rest of us will act cause as much public disorder as we possibly can, the death of this Councillor should allow us to disrupt as much as we can''
He then turned to the rest of the group.
''.Your team will will attack the Southron bridge. Destroy it, I assume you know where to plant the Glycen?'' The brown haired boy nodded.

''Myself and my group will wreak some havoc near the ports. Maybe burn some ships, or possibly that Kingsburry thieves den. Are we clear?'' They all bobbed their heads in confirmation before departing.

Southron Bridge - Gate control.
Brady was nearing the end of his long shift. Evenfall was starting, and perhaps he could persuade Belkin to go someplace else tonight.
Before he knew what hit him he heard several loud bangs, then saw smoke. ''No....'' he said to himself quietly, people were running from it. ''Help!'' he heard people scream, others were jostling to get into the city.
''Belkin, what's goin... on...'' he turned to find Belkin, a few metres behind him, near the gate, with a slit throat, and placed on either side of him were two hooded figures. ''Clear the area of guards.'' One of them grunted.
Brady unsheathed his sword, glancing behind him. Several more were appearing from the smoke, cutting down surviving guards at their posts. ''The bridge ....has collapsed?!'' He asked himself, stunned.
Without hesitation, he ran to the nearest tower, hoping to escape the onslaught. He saw behind him another figure, pointing towards him, and his heart seemed to stop in his chest. He bolted up the spiral stairs of the tower, with the figure in persuit.

Embassy Towers
Idarion continued to jabber on about expenses and hierarchy, among other things, When the doors opened to a red headed woman, dressed in a black robe. ''Sorry to intrude, but I have a message for Councillor Idarion'' She said politely, gripping something in her back pocket. ''Tasina, why didn't your guards have her wait outside?''
The robed woman surveyed her surroundings for a moment. She smirked, tossing a bloody dagger at her feet, before hurling a fireball at Idarion's chest. He let out a scream of pain. ''Guards! Stop her'' Tasina cried fierely. The two Snow Elfs blasted the woman with ice spikes, but she seemed to dance out of the way. Before Tasina knew what was happening, the Robed woman had cast a jet of air, blasting open the nearest window, jumping out of it carelessly. Tasina raced to the window, turning to the guards. ''Alert the Org, but not of... this.'' she ordered them, pointing at Idarion's body. She then took off after her, using her limited Air abilities.

Port Neven
''Right, so that's the layout, and so w- we-...'' Telesse pointed at the ships. ''Dareon! The ports on fire!'' Now there was commotion in the inn, as hooded figures approached the building with torches.
''We need to get out of here, now!'' Belkin barked, unsheathing his sword and bolting out the front doors.
Telesse followed, and they were confronted by a dozen of the strangers. several were already lighting the buildings nearby using Flame magic. ''This tavern is a den of thieves, you won't leave here alive!'' One of them shouted, ''Stop what you're doing! By the order of the Conglomerate!'' Dareon shouted, mustering all the authority he could. The cloaked man shook his head, shooting a bolt of lightning at Dareon, he ducked, it barely missing his head.

Telesse rolled towards the nearest table, instantly shifting vines near her foot to strangle anyone near her. From the corner of her eye she saw a fireball come her way, and almost instinctively she took up a low stance and created a wall from the cobblestone at her feet, shielding her from the blast.
''I haven't done this in years'' she whispered, exhilarated.

Gate control Watchtower
Brady found a dusty supply room on the 3rd floor he could hide in. He glanced through a small window to find that these killers were letting civilians through. From the balcony, he stared down below. He could always jump. Take his chances with the tide..but he was too old..
In the corner, he spotted a young soldier, Urin, he was called. ''What's going on down there? Is it an invasion?'' He asked, anxious. ''Would that were it be,'' Brady mumbled, staring at the young man as the door creaked open, and he was hit by an Ice spike.
Brady looked up, emotionless. ''Why?'' He mumbled, an elf appeared behind the killer, shrugging ''No survivors,'' he sighed, shooting a blast of air at Brady, sending him flying out through the balcony.

Port Neven
Dareon dodged and deflected all attacks the men threw at him with his sword, waiting for Telesse's defence.
As she dragged her wall towards Dareon, she saw that the inn had begun to collapse, and not everyone had left yet, many people were still near the entrance of it, and only a few were able to escape through the back before it collapsed.
''Well don't just stand there, Help!''
She threw a glare at Dareon, as if to ask where the other new recruits had gone to.

Nearer the gates, the guards found themselves near overpowered by the killers, with no reinforcements in sight. By now only the lucky few ships that had escaped ports were not ablaze, and Telesse is now just glad her ship left so soon.
Other buildings were now dancing in the flames, and while the fire would never spread over the Neven's thick city walls, considerable damage had been done to the (mostly) wooden port.

The skies
Tasina embraced the cold night air, and the bracing wind that had engulfed her, and she was now giving full chase to the red headed woman, gliding through the air and propelling herself with the only magic she was talented in: Air.
They were moving further and further away from the Tower District, and over a seedier part of the city. That was when the robed woman turned around and simultaneously shot a flurry of fire at Tasina, and on the rooftops, it appeared she had a few allies.
''I can't keep this up,'' Tasina growled, just lucky enough for this hail of projectiles to not directly touch her yet. Then an ice shard clipped her knee, a shot of pain rippled through the lower half of her body, and then she was spiralling....

At Southron, Larsel was waltzing quietly to his destination, when he saw from the corner of his eyes some cloaked figures hopping from roof to roof right over to the bridge. Naturally, his instincts kicked in from his old days leading troops, plus, cloaked figures on rooftops was never a good thing. It could have been nothing, but Larsel began to make a calm trot back to the bridge...that was until he heard the explosion.

"Well shit."

Larsel reached for his lance and began running towards the bridge. He was already quite close and saw Brady running up the stairs with an assassin in hot pursuit. As much as Larsel wanted to help him however, there was the matter of the other assassins in front of him. As Larsel prepared himself to run for Brady, he saw the poor guard's body come flying out of the tower in a gust of air, hitting the ground with a thud. That, would be their last mistake.

Larsel's men had to have heard it and were probably coming close at this point, all he had to do was stall, or maybe just kill them now. Larsel slammed himself through one of the doors into the stockades and ran up stairs, guard corpses scattered all about. This was a brutal massacre for sure. Still, he wasted no time and found a few guards fighting for their lives, assassins closing in.

Larsel tossed his lance instinctively, impaling one of the assassins and pulling the lance from its chain back into his arms. The assassin fell to the floor, dead. All attention was on Larsel now. a whirlwind of cloaks came rushing at him, and Larsel calmly cast an illusion to make multiple copies of himself, charging at the weakest looking group of assassins. He routed them and ripped through another's body with ease.

While this ocurred, the other guards began to fall in formation and started to push the assassins back. This was looking like a fight now, and a winnable one.

One of the cloaked figures threw a fireball through Larsel's clone and Larsel followed up with a lance to the face, ripping the poor man's head off. This dance of death continued as Larsel would block daggers with his armor and punch people in the face, giving the guards opportunity to make their own strikes. The cloaked figures saw this was pointless and began to retreat, but not before Larsel could impale his lance on one of their legs, trapping them.

Larsel ran up to the disabled assassin, picked his head up and slammed it against the wall with about thirty percent of his force. The cloaked figure was out cold. "I am going to have some questions for him. Get out of here and take him to a prison, now!" The guards quickly left and took the cloaked man to be interrogated. Larsel wasn't going to be done until he could find that Assassin who killed Brady. He ran up into the bridge area to survey the conditions.

Felldryt saw the incoming wave of baddies, and began laughing wildly as he put his helm on and drew his sword. Unfortunately for him, he'd ended up under a particularly tall table, and when he drew his sword with his usual enthusiasm, it wedged into the table.

Through the chaos, Marlocke could pick out the sound of the explosions. Were they getting nearer? Another group of heavily-armed thugs were pushing their way inside.
This can't be right.
The others were springing into action around him, but Marlocke just backed towards the wall, stunned. It had been a long time since he'd last faced anybody outside of a training session.
This is a mistake. This doesn't happen to me.

He fumbled for his sword as he caught the eye of a heavy-set man who was wrenching a hatchet out of the skull of an unfortunate patron. The man grinned, gore dripping onto his leather vest. Marlocke tried again to draw his sword but his hands were shaking so much that he couldn't get a grip. The thug was almost on him. Desperately, Marlocke lunged at him, grabbing the hand with the axe. If I can just stop him for a moment I can think of a-
The thug kicked him in the ribs, sending him sprawling against the wall.
Gasping for breath, Marlocke looked up incredulously as the man raised the hatchet again -

- at which point there was a deafening explosion as the wall burst inwards on top of them.

The snow elf almost instinctively jumped behind the bar and flattened himself against the rear wall, hoping beyond hope the intruders would let him leave unnoticed.

Fire. Fire!

Any misgivings Kaddika had possessed before entering this questionable tavern were vindicated as the establishment was swiftly engulfed in dancing flames. He immediately felt short of breath, panic rising from the pit of his stomach. Sweat beaded on his pale skin. The sounds of commotion grew exponentially louder by the second.

As he strafed the perimeter of the room in a half-dazed stupor, Kaddika caught sight of the high elf through the haze of smoke. He brought a sleeve up to his mouth to breathe a bit more easily, redoubled the strength of his frost coat with a hastily stuttered spell and concentrated on keeping a low profile behind the upturned furniture as he approached the inquisitor, who seemed to be engaged in combat with somebody.

Before Kaddika could react, the inquisitor had been cornered by his opponent and was about to be finished off when the wall erupted in a deafening hail of debris and stonework. A crossbeam flew into the snow elf's midriff, knocking him to the ground and effectively pinning him.

With a tug, Felldryt removed his sword from the offending furniture, then cleaved it in half for good measure.

"Woohoo! Party Time!" He yelled, before diving out the window and into the fray. One of the men swung his sword at him, which Felldryt headbutted away before swinging his sword at the man's legs, severing one and biting deeply into the other. Another had tried to sneak up on him, and actually got within dagger range before the fairy just jumped on him, flailing about with his entire body as they rolled on the ground.

Telesse finished bringing the wall over to Dareon's aid, she then turned her attention to the burning inn behind them. ''Does anyone know how to move water?!'' she screeched. The two of them were now caught between their protective wall, and the searing heat of the burning inn.
Taking up a stance, she thrusted her arms upwards. Pillars of stone rose up, keeping the front entrance open, as well as to help support whatever loadbearing walls in danger of collapse.

Then the Elf spun out onto the street with them.
''Well at least someone's out...'' Dareon mumbled, creating a small veil of fire, shielding himself from incoming blasts from either direction.

Blood everywhere. Bits and pieces of guards who were just about to switch off were scattered about. Sub-bridges empty, Larsel didn't expect it to be this bad, but such was the result of such things. While he had helped a few guards escape, the vast majority were either dead, or dying. How this many assassins managed to slip in was beyond Larsel, but there was hardly any point in wondering.

Two distant horns blared, ivory clad and harsh sounding. Larsel smiled, it was about damned time. His lieutenants had to have seen him by now. The assassins, startled, had miscalculated. Larsel's army was here in force now, there was no escape for them. Death would come quickly.

"Round two, you bastards! Don't think you can escape."

Larsel made a quick spell to have his voice echo through the whole field. "I want all of these bastards either dead, or in chains by the end of this. Hear me? Don't let any escape and I raise everyone's wages!"

A roar echoed through all of his armies, at least one hundred men were outside the gates, and another hundred inside the city looking to kill some assassins. Larsel ran back to his army, and with their leader out of sight, arrows began raining down upon the bridge everywhere except where the remaining guards were. Cloaks turned into pin cushions. Those who escaped past the arrows and towards sub-bridges found themselves surrounded by mercenary soldiers and taken prisoner.

The assassins couldn't have seen this coming. Larsel wondered how they could have forgotten about him, but it didn't matter. Now he was happy he had sent half his army out cleaning up the remaining bandits, this pincer couldn't have gone better. City-side, his army was still getting organized, and might have actually suffered heavy losses if it wasn't for Larsel's expert leadership. Larsel had to have cut down at least twenty cloaks before the fighting stopped. A few of his own mercenaries were dead, which would cover the wage increases. Larsel smiled a wicked smile to a captive assassin.

"You are mine now. Not a single person will come to help you." Larsel pointed to a soldier and said "Take all of the prisoners to our barracks, strip them and take everything. These guys are crafty, bind them and ensure the rooms are bare. They won't be needing food or water. I will be joining them soon. Report to the city that every assassin was killed. I don't need them yelling at me." Several soldiers nodded and orders were relayed through the squad as hurrahs were shared. One desperate cloaked female tried to escape, but was quickly caught, her arms and legs were then broken one by one before she was grabbed by two soldiers. One of the sergants yelled "Anyone else feel like running?" Larsel laughed. Then he thought about the note he was given. He wondered if this had something to do with it. Either way, interrogations were first.

As soon as the fighting broke out, Marcelle scanned the inn for escape routes. None besides the windows and doors leading right out into the streets where the fighting was taking place presented themselves to her. While she could have handled herself well enough in a fight, it seemed better, for the time being, to stay out of it. The Inquisitors around her probably wouldn't expect a woman to defend herself as well as she could so... it would likely raise suspicions if anyone working one of her other cases was around.

For the most part, she manged to stay out of harm's way, occasionally the odd far-flung object or weapon would graze her as it barely missed her. Still, Marcelle kept calm. Even as an explosion went off just outside the inn and toppled a wall... right on top of the Inquisitor that she had been talking to earlier.

On the one hand, the newly exploded wall offered a new escape route that... had about a 50/50 chance of getting her killed. On the other, it might help her later on if she at least tried to save the Inquisitor. On yet another hand, it would mean one less Inquisitor to bother her later if he died now... though he hardly seemed significant enough to really make that much of a difference if he died in this fight. One one last hand, it was usually better to have a grateful ally than a bitter enemy. So...

After that brief moment of thought, Marcelle rushed to the wall and started digging, to help lift some of the bigger objects off. It wasn't easy, but it seemed like she was making progress and that the Inquisitor would manage to wriggle out from under the wall when...

another explosion rocked the inn, this time from behind the kitchen.

Marcelle let out a reflexive gasp as the floor had apparently decided that it had taken enough abuse and had given up on supporting either of the two adults on top of it. It gave out, and Marcelle and the Inquisitor tumbled into the basement, along with anyone else nearby with bad footing or nothing nearby to grab onto.

Kaddika was amazed the most immediate injury he could diagnose was a sore midriff. Head still ringing from the second explosion, and stomach still aching from the strike of the beam, the snow elf slowly sat up and attempted to take stock of his position. The inn several yards above blazed furiously, the roof teetering dangerously near a complete collapse. the basement floor was slowly becoming a collection of rubble, smoking tinder, and embers, and the night was still filled with the distant roar of combat and blazing fires. Something had broken his fall; Kaddika glanced beneath him and let out a startled cry, scampering to his feet to put distance between himself and the corpse. On closer inspection, he recognized it as the body of one of the intruders, a wide cut swathed across his chest.

A quick glance about the dark basement revealed the poor inquisitor, at least very bruised by now, and the odd girl who'd been stalking him earlier, the pair of them lying in a heap of rotten sacks of cabbage. Kaddika rushed over as quickly as he could, flinching as one of his legs flared with pain. "A-are y-you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?" He knelt by the two figures, his panting becoming more ragged as the ashy air filled the cellars. "Are you even conscious?"

The rubble was pressing down on Marlocke's back. His ears were ringing - he couldn't hear anything but the blood pounding in his head.
He felt - or was he just imagining? - the pressure lift a little - maybe somebody was digging--

--the next second he was lying in a heap on the floor of the basement. He gasped for breath, filling his lungs with smoke and dust. His head was spinning, and there were...little dancing lights in front of his eyes.
Coughing, Marlocke tried to stand. Then - a violent pain shot through his side. Broken ribs. He cried out, doubling over.

Hrothius spent a few minutes drinking glass after glass looking at the smiling faces of all the people now drinking for free. "That's what it's all about" he thought to himself. Then a mass of shouting came all around him. He turned around in his stool and looked through the window seeing the burning across the docks.

Within seconds the inn was burning as well. Hrothius attempted to stand up to join the fleeing crowd. It was at this moment he realized he may have drank a little too much. He stumbled immediately falling to his hands and knees. The room was spinning and the yelling became painful. Within the moments where he attempted to regain his footing the building had already begun to collapse. He made it to his feet. As pieces of roof began to fall and he headed for the exit an explosion shook the room but he managed to retain balance. He turned to see an two elves trapped under debris.

He tried to run over to help free them when a second explosion rang out. He stumbled grabbing the window sill to keep upright watching as others fell in the growing hole.Now he was hanging above an abyss. Realizing he had nowhere else to go he let go. He landed feet first, but his knees buckled and he ended up flat on his back. He breathed for a few moments and said, "Is everybody...okay?" In a slurred voice.

"D-don't move!" Kaddika hissed urgently, trying to push the inquisitor back down. A cursory examination suggested the elf's ribs were fractured. Best to treat that elsewhere. Kaddika noticed the drunkard still possessed locomotion, and shouted, "Give me a hand here! Can you carry the high elf?"

Not bothering to see if his command had registered, the doctor scrambled over to where the girl lay. He wrinkled his nose; an acrid smell distinct from the smoke and charcoal was overpowering him, and it wasn't from the sack of rotten vegetables. He glanced about and saw an exposed portal, probably a hidden passage revealed by the inn's collapse. "I think there's a way out!" he yelled over the crumbling structure. The girl seemed alright, but a concussion was hard to diagnose in this state of affairs. As flaming debris rained down in heightening intensity, Kaddika grunted with exertion, arms trembling, and began dragging his conscious-or-otherwise patient towards the prospective exit...

"I'll take that as a no," Hrothius replied to the elf. "But, if I can stand up...I'll carry him." His knees were paining him but his drunken dizziness was what was giving him the most trouble. He got to his hands and knees to ground himself a bit. He planted his right foot strongly into the ground and forced himself up to a standing position. He slowly walked over struggling to maintain balance as his knees ached. He wrapped his arms around the High Elf and forced him onto his shoulder. He was just able to make out the movements of the elf who had called out to him and began to follow him. "Do you... See.. An exit?"

To say that today was not Marcelle's day would be a bit of an understatement, to say the least. Apparently, trying to free someone from a small hill of rubble while a fight was raging outside wasn't the best of ideas. And the trip to the basement didn't do her any favors either. She tried to sit up but she found that moving her left hand at all sent a chain of sharp stabbing jolts up her arm. Then another tendril of pain shot out from her right side... looked like a bunch of splinters had lodged into her side. Hard to tell in the dark, but the damage looked shallow.

Also, she was feeling a bit dizzy, even just lying down wasn't helping. Whoever was dragging her along the floor certainly wasn't helping with her disoriented state. Still, she was hardly in a position to complain. Its not that she really thought she'd start gurgling blood if she opened her mouth, but better safe than sorry.

Didn't appreciate being dragged, but as they seemed to come to a stop, she found she was next to a wall. And luckily enough, it was to her right. Using the wall to brace herself, she slowly, and painfully tried to pick herself off of the floor. She nearly fell back on her ass at first, grunting in pain as she struggled to right herself, putting a lot of her weight onto the wall. Eventually though, she was able to stand up again... as long as she kept a firm grip on the wall. The room seemed to be spinning... a lot.

"Ugh..." she said after breathing slowly to calm herself down, "That's... ehh... what I... ah... get. Unngh. For trying to play hero. Ugh. Idiot."

Felldryt stumbled as an assassin tried to stab him in the back, and while it didn't pierce his armor, it certainly didn't feel good. Bringing the pommel of his sword whipping around, he smashed the unsuccessful assassin in the face, shattering it. Seeing a group coming towards him, he charged while laughing maniacally, and began to chop them down from the bottom up. With the amount there were, they did land several hits, but his armor repelled the attacks.

Dareon looked at Felldryt's flailing and nodded at him to Telesse. She gave up on sustaining the building's integrity, before raising her arms towards the fairy.

A column of stone shot up from the ground, sending him several metres into the air.

She then maintained her stance, stomping twice with her right foot, and the ground below Felldryt began to crack and ripple, knocking the surrounding killers off of their feet.

"Woohoo! I can fly!"

As he fell back to the ground, he flipped and landed straight on one of the assassins. Getting up and rubbing his bum from the impact, he began skipping across the bodies, seeing how many times in a row he could hop from face to face. One managed to get up, and then fell back down as a sword sprouted from his chest, with the fairy using it as a lever to launch himself unto another unfortunate killer.

"Thank you pretty lady! This is the most fun I've had in weeks!"

The Sky
Tasina could feel the rush of wind in her face, she kept on falling, faster and faster. Was she spinning? She couldn't tell. She groaned, Tasina thought she heard someone call her name, but wasn't certain...

''She's stuck in a daze!'' Orin cried. Matius stood near her. His red cloak sucking up the moonlight. ''She'll be right on top of us in a few seconds,'' he shouted to their small squad. Pointing at the courtyard's well he yelled ''Move that Water, do what you do!''
Stiffly, Orin, and a few others that could move water spaced their feet apart and held their breaths. Lifting their arms slowly, a torrent of water shot out of the well and into the sky.

Tasina felt like she was hit in the face, she panicked, unable to breath. Then she opened her eyes to find that she was floating in a bubble of suspended water.
Below she found one of her teams. The bubble gradually reached the ground, before it collapsed and Tasina caught her breath.
Of the 6 there, Matius stepped forward. He knelt on one knee as she composed herself ''My Lady, Port Neven's on fire, and there's explosions at the Southron bridge, We're told there's fighting in both areas.''
Southron? Oh, now these assassins want to put on a show. But she couldn't possibly tell them of Idarion, let that problem unfold over time. As for that woman, she's gotten away, and probably surrounded by allies now.
''Right, 3 of you will head for Southron, find out what happened there, then report back to my office.'' Matius along two city elves then sped off towards their destination. That left Orin and her new trainee. Tasina forgets names, especially new recruits. ''Bralin? No, ugh, doesn't matter'' You're with us, we're going to find out what's happening with the port.''

The red headed woman shook her cloak and left it sitting on a hanger. ''Operation was a success-- on my end anyway.''
In the room, there sat several other members of her team. A dark skinned man with sharp features and a gash down his left arm spoke first. ''Aren hasn't returned. From what I've heard the Southron group's been routed''
The red woman scoffed. ''That's what we get for hiring mercs. What happened to just killing someone?''
''From what I hear the Neven plan is going well, and besides that, you had one job, and you were still followed'' The dark man shot back.
''Really?Who saw?''
''Half the city probably saw, its a good thing I ordered range when I did.''
''It was only some noble. Probably Idarion's mistress or something. It'd explain the security. Crazy bitch chased me through half the district. Who know where she learned to fly like that.''
The young boy spoke up in the corner, he was lying on a bed, sharpening a blade. ''She still saw you, along with whoever you DIDN'T kill''
The red haired woman sighed, and reclined on a large cushion nearby. ''Well, not much we can do about it now, best just lay low for a week, then start over.''

Port Neven
Dareon stabbed a burly man in the torso, jumping back on the now rickety wall of theirs. ''Telesse, I don't know how much longer this wall will hold'' Several of the pebbles were already beginning to tumble away, slowly but surely.
Then, from finishing a fight near one of the boats, a green armoured mercenary took up a stance similar to Telesse's, and demolished the wall right in front of them, exposing both of them.
In a split second decision, Telesse's arm made a sweeping gesture and the floor below them ripped open to what lay beneath.
Both of them half stumbled, half fell into the pit, finding more than a few familiar faces.
Telesse grinned ''Oh, so this is where you've all been hiding....''

Kaddika and the gladiator were making steady progress through the curving tunnel, the injured charges in hand. At this point Kaddika was unsure of where exactly they were, or if they were any closer to sanctuary. The firelight had receded behind them in the winding tunnel, making it hard to diagnose injuries.

The high elf had broken three rib bones, Kaddika was certain. The inquisitor would probably need a cane or something to brace himself with if he wanted to heal in a timely fashion. The snow elf felt they were far enough from the commotion to warrant a stop, and he indicated as such to the burly man as he set the girl gently on the floor.

"That's... ehh... what I... ah... get. Unngh. For trying to play hero. Ugh. Idiot."

The seedy girl was standing up, which was promising, but considering what he'd just dragged her through, he rather wished she was unconscious. "Try not to stand up so quickly," he warned. As he slung the medical pack from his back, the ceiling behind the group suddenly caved inwards. Standing amid the rubble and dust were the host of the initial meeting and the woman who could control the earth. "Oh, thank the chills," he breathed. "Can you seal the path behind us?"

Kaddika slumped to his knees, exhausted, and turned to the girl. With the new-found light the doctor could plainly see some ugly gashes along her right side - courtesy of some viciously large shards of wood - stretching all the way from her thigh to her neck. The two drop-ins forgotten for the moment, he immediately set to fixing the wound, saying, "Try to stay still, alright? This might sting."

Hrothius laid down the creature he was carrying and rolled onto his back. He coughed trying to expel some of the smoke that was still in his lungs. "Oh, thank the chills," he breathed. "Can you seal the path behind us?"Things had gone so badly so quickly. He pushed himself on his forearms, looking forward seeing two of the people from the bar. " the after party. There is no more alcohol... as i am drunk enough...for all of us." He laughed to himself with a pained look on his face. "Anyway, where did...the fire come from?"

"What do you know?"

Larsel was hovering over a broken man. Stripped of all earthly possessions, kept in the dark, legs broken, spirit to go soon. They never said it would happen like this, kill a few guards and get out. That's all he knew, that's what they paid him for. He had said it so many times now, but nobody believed him. What could he do? This couldn't just be it.

Larsel sighed a deep sigh and left the cell, its occupant crying now. "He doesn't know anything, toss him like the others." Larsel was severely disappointed, of all the prisoners he had taken, not one of them had anything useful to say, or had killed themselves before he could get them in. The smell of burning flesh was permeating the air, Larsel's patented disposal method for prisoners he wasn't supposed to own. Either way, news had come in, more attacks, politicians dead, this was an absolute disaster.

Larsel turned to a guard and said "Get Moltross and Numion...along with a few soldiers. I am going hunting."

Moltross was the lieutenant in charge of inner security. It didn't matter if it was one of Larsel's own, or if it was just one of the politicians in the city. Whoever stood against the army was quickly brought to Larsel's attention and dealt with in the usual manner. Aside from that, Moltross also defended the city in case of attacks from the outside. He wielded a sword and shield combo and was the very definition of panicked right now.

"I-I-I was never told to defend against an INNER attack! Please don't kill me Larsel, I-"

"Moltross, you are fine, we are going to deal with this. Where is Numion?"

"He just got back here, he had to take another bridge after Southron went kaboom."

"We are going to meet up with him and a few of his guys, we're going back in."

"Understood, sir."

Numion was looking triumphant, his men had managed to kill some dozens of cloaks without losing a single member on their side. Granted, the ones they killed had no ranged capabilities and were on the other side of a canyon, but all the same. Numion was a thinner man than Larsel or Moltross, he was shrewd and similar to Larsel in many ways outside of his fighting style. Numion was skilled with a bow like no other in Larsel's army. A master of position and a king manipulator of soldiers. There was a reason Larsel took Numion out, instead of Moltross, who commanded respect and ran orders better than anyone else, but lacked the creativity of Numion.

"You still have your armor sir? We going back in?"


"Lemme gather my army, we-"

"I already owe them a raise, let's not double that. Just a few men, your best. We are going to aid whoever is there and honestly, the seven of us should be enough."

"Well alrighty then."

Two archers and two warriors were picked and the group wandered towards the burning at the docks, for where there was smoke, there had to be deadly assassins with dying guards.

Felldryt had squashed many of the mercenaries, but there were still a score of them around, so he decided on more fun! Unfortunately, as he went to hop to the next head to smash, his foot got caught on a helm.

"Woah!" Was all he managed before faceplanting into the street, though his fall was softened by an unfortunate merc, who was disembowled by the horned helmet as the fairy got to his feet.

"Let's try this again!" Starting to jump to the next one, he miscalculated and landed on his chest, causing him to slide on the leather armor and crash into the merc, though his agony was ended by a flailing sword.

"No no no, this isn't working right!" For the last one, he opted to just stab the man in the face. "Oh, so now it works... Lady, you're a harsh mistress." Appearing to talk to the sky.

"Right, let's get it over with," said Marcelle, trying to hold back another grunt. She stood perfectly still as asked, and moved, albeit very painfully, when the good doctor needed better access to a wound or splinter.

Marcelle tried to turn her thoughts to planning her next heist, but that inevitably took her back to how long it would take for her injuries to fully heal, and how stiff she'd be on the next job... and how much these new wounds would help a clever Inquisitor work out her double life. Then she tried to count sheep, but she found that she was counting in tune with the rhythmic stabs of pain as the field medic or whatever pulled the many chunks of wood out of her.

Tasina half jogged, half limped to their destination. It probably wasn't wise to run on her injured knee, but she could worry about that after the port was secured.
Orin led them, spear in hand. ''The quickest way should be down this way.'' she said, pointing down a winding street. The Neven walls looming overhead.
The gate to the port rose at a fork in the streets. To the right was a direct route to Southron Bridge, while Tasina's group entered to the left, near a row of houses.
As they approached the walls they were met by 2 mercenaries.
''Turn back, now.'' One of them barked. ''What happened here? An explosion?''
the two mercs looked at one another. The one in boiled leather nodded, sword in his right hand and shield on the left. ''Uh, yes... Nothing to worry about, just a shipment of BarrowSpice. Someone must have been smoking in the hull.''

Orin's trainee glared at them, the armoured one averted his eyes, attempting to remain cheerful.
''Why are you here? I mean it really...'' he piped up, voice breaking mid-sentence.
The one in armour spoke this time, hesitantly ''....We're ..with Larsel's band. Yes, uh he said for us to stand guard and to not let anyone past.''


''Sorry'' Telesse called out to Felldryt, sealing up most of the hole that she made to get to everyone else.
''We need to move, the one that tore down my wall could easily breach that hole.'' she warned Dareon.
Dareon surveyed his new recruits. Half were either injured or drunk, and the other half were helping the others. ''We need a way out. Any suggestions.''

Marlocke was now mostly conscious - being carried along by a large, armour-plated man reeking of ale isn't something one could easily sleep through. Neither was being dumped unceremoniously on the floor, for that matter. He could still barely stand with the pain in his side, so sat on the floor in as dignified an manner as he could achieve.
Standing a little ahead of the gladiator was the pale, nervous-looking elf from the tavern. Had he said he was a doctor? Might've done - frankly, he'd been rather distracted at the time. Marlocke knew some rudimentary healing, but he couldn't concentrate with all the noise from above, and could only soothe his migraine a little.
The snow elf was now tending to the girl, who looked like she'd just lost a fight with a dining chair. She was humming something to take her mind off the injuries. Was he just imagining it, or did that sound a bit like -

His thoughts were interrupted - again - as the light from above was cut out by Telesse sealing up the hole in the roof. No, floor. Street. Whatever.

"We need a way out, any suggestions?"

He spoke up hurriedly. "What are you doing? You can't seal us in! We'll be trapped in here!" Marlocke wasn't one to panic, generally, but the prospect of being buried alive for the second time in five minutes was a particularly unpleasant notion.

"What are you doing? You can't seal us in! We'll be trapped in here!" The Inquisitor shouted, the dark and dank atmosphere already getting to him.

"Well... I think I can find our way out of here," Marcelle said, now in much better shape with some improvised gauze wrapped around her to seal her wounds, "Just... ugh... give me a second."

She leaned on the left-hand wall, and followed it right into a dead end. Maybe it was her paranoia talking, but she swore she heard someone snickering.

"Hey!" she hissed, turning to the wall on the right and following it back out of this tunnel, "It's not as though I'm in the best shape right now."

With that, she lead the group, hobbling along the wall. Eventually they came to a fork. She stopped to rest on a nearby set of steps.

Wait a minute... steps... that would lead to the surface. Or well, had a better shot than the tunnels.

"Well, come on then," she said, "Looks like we've found the way out, but... I'll need some help with the stairs."

"Looks like we've found the way out, but... I'll need some help with the stairs."

Kaddika blushed, wrapping his arm about her shoulders as they ascended above-ground. He distractedly thought both she and the old man would need a cane. What an odd-looking group they'd seem at the end of the day...

As they emerged from the sewer service exit, Kaddika immediately wished he were back in the relatively sweet-smelling tunnels below. The overwhelming stench of fish guts, salt, and decaying sea life seemed to coat the walls of the warehouse like paint. The snow elf kept complaints to himself, partly because he didn't want to appear gauche, and partly because he didn't want to risk inhaling. There was light seeping in from the cracks of the giant iron doors, though from burning buildings or artificial braziers Kaddika couldn't discern. His best guess was that they had arrived in one of the fisheries lining the waterside, and the sewer access was used as a convenient dumping ground for the waste that couldn't legally be chucked into the waterways.

He felt his chest tighten as his resolve to avoid breathing began to wane.

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