He smiled at Onamakritos' observation. He had let his guard down, thought the man too simple and blind to notice his mistake. No matter. It gave him what he wanted, and that was information. Now he knew what his enemy's capabilities were. He would be able to be more careful in future. When Zahariel barged in, it effectively ended the conversation. The Ancient God would let none stand in front of him and he wasn't going to be ignored. That, and despite his confidence that he would not mention any of the contents of the conversation to anyone else, he was not willing to discuss such sensitive matters in front of him. He was only predictable to a point. Deities, he firmly believed, were decidedly tricky individuals. "Correct, it was my mistake. Thank you, Onamakritos. You've told me a lot about yourself." He admitted graciously. "I trust you can see yourself out." He clearly saw the intent of his bow and shook his head amusedly. It was a petty attempt at posturing. Truly, he had not won anything. He thought he had an advantage, but he did not. In fact, he had set up the guillotine on which the Inheritor could, and would execute him if necessary. When the door shut he turned his attention to the God in the room and gestured for him to take a seat. "I agree, but a blunt instrument has its uses, much like his power. We can shape it into a finer tool. Besides, I intend to watch that one. I have a... Vested interest in doing so. Nor shall we be alone. I myself shall be there of course, as will Carissa. You may join us if it appeals to you." It was a statement of possibility, not of permission, that Zahariel may join them. Not even he could control a God. Not precisely, or directly and influencing was most difficult. "Now tell me, Zahariel, what matters do you wish to discuss?" "Very well Onamakritos, it will be a pleasure to have you here I'm sure. Isn't that right, Aster?" She said mockingly to the man that she was trying to tame. "And yes, we can talk later. We'll discuss when I'm done with this interrogation, and with dear little Aster here." Her voice was sickeningly and sarcastically sweet.
"Veceslav! It's a pleasure to see you here!" Derrick shouted, returning the smile their teacher gave them. He continued to cut down the rioters where he could and repelled them with signs where he could not. However, the situation soon took a turn for the worse with the arrival of a sorcerer. The sorcerer himself wasn't unfamiliar. He was the one who arrived unexpectedly in the Kaer and giggled maniacally on the way out. What he brought with him was nothing short of horrific. Blue eyed, pale faced, clearly dead but still walking. The scent of death pervaded his senses. Worst of all, is that he greeted Veera as if she were an old friend and he had no doubt that they had met. Veera, what have you done, he thought to himself. Veera was scared too. He had never heard her like this before, which made him even more tense than he was before. "I don't know, Veera." Gripping his blade in both hands, knowing that if violence was to come it would be his horrors that came first, he glared at the sorcerer, and then it hit him. Vyle came to him, seeking a Necromancer, a sorcerer named Solomon. One with the power to make corpses walk. That meant it was... "So you are the Necromancer called Solomon." Derrick stated with narrowed eyes. "What do you have to do with Veera? What is the meaning of this?" Adolin spent the night in the guest room that he correctly identified. When Alanna had finished with her bath, he noticed that she looked a lot more beautiful now. Her skin was cleaned up and her hair shone more radiantly. Her clothes too she had washed. Her explanation for it was that there was no point in changing to any of her other outfits, as the reason that she wore this one was because it was the most practical out of the others that she had. He accepted this as sense. The sorceress was not taken off guard by him not wearing the guise of the Witcher Carrak of Cintra, and her only comment on the subject was a simple one. "It's nice to see the other face. As rugged as he was, I was getting bored of the old one." He did not disguise his smile to that. It was pleasant for him to hear something more positive coming out of her. It was an indirect compliment, he knew. She made food for them both after he briefly stepped outside to catch a fish in the Oxenfurt harbour that they could eat, He found a sizeable fish of some sort and she cooked it, making for a decent meal, along with the seasoning that she always kept with her. After that, they had parted for the night. When the chaos of the morning began, it was she, not he, who noticed first. The shouts awoke her for her sleep was light. She wasn't used to getting much when travelling with Adolin so even in a normal bed, she was used to waking up and getting going early and quickly. She changed from her nightdress into her usual outfit and walked downstairs with a yawn to see what it was going on outside at their front door. When she opened it, she was not prepared for the sight. There was murder in the streets. Men and women and children, all being massacred in cold blood with no quarter given. Some of the more observant amongst them noticed her door opening and rushed for her, weapons in hand. "Adolin get up!" She barked, backing up. She threw her hands forward and magic surged through her body. Those that came towards her were thrown back. One ended his life with his skull broken upon the cobbles. She maintained the pushing force so that none could come through and soon enough, her captor appeared with sword in hand at the door. One look at his face said it all. He could scarcely believe it. "What the hell is Bryce thinking?" He growled to her. He gestured for Alanna to put her hands down before shouting outside. "Back off you fools! We're with Bryce! You will leave this property be, am I clear? And no harm shall come to this lady! She is my captive, to do as I wish with!" He drew the Silver Sword that he had claimed from Carrak of Cintra and glared at them all. "Now understand this - If you touch her, I shall cut you down with this blade I claimed from the Witcher Carrak of Cintra!" The murder in his eyes was all the warning that the aggressors needed. For emphasis, he shifted into the form of Carrak to show his achievement before returning to the face of Adolin. He walked down the steps and picked up the club that the one Alanna had slain carried and threw it to her as a disguise. It was time that they got the real work done. He looked around and saw Alanna lock the door behind her. They were here to kill Witchers, and he was sure that was what Bryce had intended, but that was not so. What he intended was far more. He couldn't approve of this, but nor could he stop it. There were too many, and they were too bloodthirsty. But they were all blind. His family was killed because of this mindset. This would achieve nothing. He simply worked to eradicate the killers without honour, those that did anything for pay. As proven by the fact that his parents were killed by cowards who had to hire a Witcher to do that which they could not do themselves. "Come Alanna, we must find the Witchers of this city and fight them if we can. This massacre must be worth something after all." She nodded grimly and the two of them set off through the bloody streets, silently sharing their disgust.
Jaden was satisfied by the man's silence and the nod of acknowledgement. He seemed to be behaving more reasonably now and thinking before he spoke, something he certainly preferred in the people that he dealt with. The Inheritor waited patiently as Onamakritos wrote in his book and thought about what he was going to say exactly. When he began to explain, he listened most intently and more so as what he said went on. Finally, he nodded in understanding. "I see. Well, I believe I can interpret that to a certain degree. If my hypothesis is correct, then the vision suggests that you and I are related - On account of our shared father." He concluded simply. He crossed his left arm over his chest and stroked his chin with his right hand. "However by this point, it is negligible and there are other families with our blood." This did throw a wrench into the works so to speak. Having another person who shared in the Samarost blood outside of the main family's influence made things awkward, although impossible to prove to anyone else. It required two very specific sets of knowledge and an assumption. The ones who raised their awareness of the possibility of this extant family were Blackshards, and thusly entirely reliable and only under their direction. Whoever these people really were, they would have no place unless they were controlled. Otherwise, it might be simpler just to remove them from the equation entirely. "This does not provide you any advantages, and as far as anyone else is concerned this possibility does not exist. It isn't worth consideration." The Inheritor continued. "And for the moment, I suppose that I shall await further proof before coming to a conclusion of the exact truth of the matter. Is that all you have to tell me?"
"Mind your temper. Remember who you speak to. How you address your colleagues is your business but to me, you will curb your anger and speak to me respectfully. Is that clear?" Jaden spoke icily with a sharp look that would cower before nothing. "I know what I wanted to know, but I will remember what you have said. If blood is what you want then blood you shall have, but nothing more." The Inheritor turned around and sat behind his desk. He did not gesture for Onamakritos to take a seat. That would be a sign of respect and an acknowledgement of maturity, none of which his outburst seemed to display being worthy of. "If you think to provoke me with your opinion, you'll find yourself wanting. The judgement of someone blinded by bloodlust mean nothing to me. I have no guilt for the actions of my ancestors. I know my grandfather had his reasons and it makes little difference regardless." He continued. "History is history, and what you say will make very little difference to me. However, there is another thing you can, and will explain to me. And that is what you mean by this vision of my cousin. What do you see of her?" "You will not refer to me as 'Car' Aster. Remember your place today." She said harshly as he approached. She gestured towards the ground. "On your knees Aster, where you belong. I will find more suitable attire for one in your place soon, but for the moment you will stay there on the floor." She had given this a little thought and felt it the most appropriate thing for her to do to him for now. Perhaps some humiliation in front of people would serve to teach him a little humility. "To answer your question it will be starting soon. Onamakritos is reporting to the Inheritor who will be joining us. Won't that be an honour for you?" She said the last part mockingly.
Derrick caught sight of Veceslav coming towards him. He was hacking his way through the crowd with peasants in tow. He smiled. It seemed The Crow had managed to create a counterforce to all of this. As the crowd drew closer, he knew that he was going to have trouble getting out. As one side got too close, he cast Aard but it did little to slow them down overall. That's when he heard it. "Derrick jump!" He did, and not a moment too soon. Veera landed next to him and a wave of Aard swept across the cobbles beneath him in a violent wave that shoved people back all around. He grinned at Veera's timely arrival and hefted his sword in both hands again. "I guess that makes us even for yesterday!" Derrick called back with equal humour. Already staggered and trying to recover, the crowd was not ready for another blast of Aard and the bloody advance of the two Witchers who would not be slain in the streets. Derrick cut left and right, covering Veera as they fought their way through the crowd. Veceslav was close now. Soon they'd link up and be able to make a more co-ordinated fight out of here, The size of this riot, the sheer chaos. Defeating it seemed near impossible. He dreaded to think it, but they might have to evacuate the city. Only in the worst case scenario. He didn't want to be forced to leave the people here that they couldn't save, but he wanted to live as well. He'd be satisfied if he knew that he did all he could at least.
Jaden was not seated when Onamakritos entered the room. His desk, a wide item of dark wood and stacked high with papers and strewn with maps. His room was much the same. There were boards on the wall showing terrain maps pinned to the wall, spider diagrams and complex charts with a myriad of lines drawn across them and pieces of string linking one to another. While seemingly chaotic, to him it was a well ordered record of plans and notes. On the far left side, there was a heavily reinforced door with no obvious method of entry. On the far right hand side, where he stood, there was a window overlooking the main camp. The Inheritor stood, his eyes cast downwards at a report on what they had dubbed 'AVENGER'. Jaden looked up at Onamakritos' voice and smiled, clearly somehow amused. "Eager I see. It makes a certain degree of sense to do it now. Unfamiliar environment, perhaps we can catch her at a weak moment. And it means that she'll have little use to us here." He already had some ideas in mind for what to do with the girl. She was going to be most useful in his plans. "You may use your magic in the process. Don't go overboard though, son of Calxiyn. We do need her able to talk." Jaden strode across the room to his desk and placed the report down before looking back at him. "Tell me, why have you come here? Was it your own initiative, or did your mother send you?" It was a question casually delivered. "Before you say it, it's not hard to piece together. Compare the family trees, the mysterious first Calxiyn and what we know about Aidan himself... It's easy to put together. Especially now that I see you in person. I can see the look in the eyes. Carissa wouldn't notice it, she's a killer at heart. But I see it." He leaned against the desk. "Perhaps you're searching for a link to the past? We have history, our families. But I find it amusing that one of you stands with a Samarost against the Demi-Gods when before we were on opposite sides." He gave another smile. "Do you believe in our cause? Do the rest of your family?" Jaden leaned against his desk with his arms folded and his eyes locked on to the man opposite's.
"No problem Vyle. Whether Ana stays here, or if you find a place that's safe, do what you need to do. It'll be good if you fight alongside us, but I won't mind if you don't." Derrick replied. He looked to Veera and nodded in agreement. "Agreed, I'll not stand idly by while there is a massacre going on outside." He stepped outside with her, Silver Sword in hand. It was strange to think that not too long ago they had fought, and now they were standing side by side as if nothing had happened. He nodded to Veera and headed downstairs. He eyes flashed from side to side to see if any of them had got inside. For now, they were spared but it wouldn't be long before they got here he was sure. "Everyone, stay inside. It's chaos and murder out there, monsters on the streets." Derrick warned. He strode through the inn and swung open the door. He was hit by a wall of sound. Screams, shouts and the ringing of metal. He could smell blood on the air. The Witcher grimaced and ran through the alleyways on silent footsteps, cutting down stray pairs of marauders with inhuman grace. Eventually, he weaved his way on to a more important street. There were people breaking into houses, rounding up groups of people and encircling them and executing them. A group of them were even attending to the grisly business of turning a market stall into a pyre, tying people to the posts that held it up or to the crude stake that they had built up in the middle. He raced down the street, spotting someone wielding a burning brand. Like lightning, the Witcher struck. The hand holding the torch was severed and the head of the Doppler, etched in shock fell to the floor too as the body finally toppled, spurting blood. He eyed the rest of them. He launched into a pirouette, sweeping his blade wide from Dextra and flowed into a spinning cut vertically. Three fell, throats cut from the sweeping blade and the other opened from nape to waist. He was, needless to say, not done yet. There were more of them, many more and he would do unto them violence proportional to that which they were inflicting upon the innocent. A flick of the hand and the Sign of Igni was cast, a sweeping flame caught five his foes alight and they fled, burning and terrified. A half pirouette saw him dodging a wild swing from a lumberjack's axe. A thrust to the back ended his career of murder. Derrick ducked underneath a horizontal swing and disembowelled the Doppler who made it before casting the Sign of Aard and knocking another half a dozen or so unbalanced, untrained and angry Dopplers to the ground. One approached, wielding the weapons of a town guard. Clearly this one had entered their ranks to make a living. He thrust forward with his pike. Derrick stepped to the side. Two more jabs, Derrick danced away from both. When the fourth thrust came, he moved having now evaluated his pattern of attack. The Witcher caught the short crossguard of the pike on the bottom of his blade. He grabbed the wooden shaft and pulled himself forwards with a thrust of his own. The silver drove effortlessly through the eye of the pikeman's unprotected face. One hand reached up to touch the wound before stumbling backwards and falling to the floor, dead. Covered in blood, Derrick took his sword in both hands and looked around him. He was now completely surrounded. He could see an alleyway to escape from not far, but to do it he would have to plow through the crowd. Alone, an impossible feat. He cursed his own bloodlust. He could only hope that Veera had not followed far behind, otherwise this would be his end.
"Yes, Onamakritos we will. Fire is an excellent persuader." She nodded. She wanted to be there for when they did it. And she knew someone else who did too. She was only inclined to grant that request to shut him up. "I know the Inheritor wishes to do so as well. We will need to meet him first so that he can bear witness and potentially ask his own questions. I'm sure he'll have them." She knew that she would have to bear Jaden in mind in these sorts of activities, particularly when it came to such important prisoners. "Since you're showing initiative in the process, I'll let you make the request to him. In the meantime, I'll wait at the brig." An order, albeit an indirect one. She made her way to the brig. On the way, she put her hand on the shoulder of a Shard soldier and ordered him to find and collect Aster Surananayan for the interrogation. Perhaps that would incline him to be quiet. She had to stop kidding herself like that. It wouldn't work. However, what it may do was make him more inclined to listen to her, make him malleable. She could use someone like that.
The night was a peaceful one, little of import happened. Derrick picked up his steel sword from the floor and resheathed it, he checked his weapons were in good condition and sharpened them. The Witcher kept a watchful eye over his charges, deciding that if being a Witcher ever got old he could probably make a good career as a doctor. Not that anyone would want to be treated by a cat-eyed freak like him, but that wasn't his problem if they'd rather die. He sat down He heard it first. He could hear a roar in the streets, a rally of some kind. He stood up to go look outside, but he couldn't see anything. And as if she was awoken by the sound, he heard Veera stirring. He looked over at her as she came round, but something was wrong. She wasn't angry. She was panicking, as if she was lost. He allowed her to vent her confusion before she turned to him. "You don't remember coming to Oxenfu-" He gasped, but stopped. He immediately felt a sense of guilt, a true sense of it since it managed to pervade even the dampening of training and mutation. That blow to the head did more damage than I thought. Amnesia...? ****! Suddenly, the lies that he had concocted were not only to be directed at Veceslav, but also her. This was wrong, but it was the only way that he could think of to handle this. But this was a chance. Perhaps now he could turn her away from her genocidal wishes. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes "Your swords are leaning against the bedside table Veera. You and Aaron came to Oxenfurt, maybe you were coming for a job? In any case, the rest of us are here. I was supposed to be meeting Olivia but I've got no idea where she is. Aaron and Veceslav shouldn't be too far." And then it was time to expl- She doesn't even remember Vyle. This is bad. Very, very bad. Oh ****. "That man there, his name is Vyle. Believe it or not, he's a Higher Vampire but he's a good one. He rescued that sorceress, her name is Teliana by the way, from some people who tortured her. Horrifically. You met him yesterday while he and I were looking for her." The noise outside was getting louder and he was getting more and more concerned by the moment. He could hear screams mingled in. He nodded towards her weapons. "Strap those on. I have no idea what's happening out there but it doesn't sound good." Derrick released her and strapped on his sword, attaching his weapons to himself with professional dexterity. He could feel his amulet vibrating. Derrick clasped it. What the...? There was a scream from outside and he flung the window open to spot a man thrusting a spear through a fleeing woman's chest, about to advance on her child. A man lay dead further up the alley, presumably the father. The Witcher's medallion seemed to be indicating that the man was the source. He didn't have much time. He pulled his crossbow from his back and fired it. The silver bolt struck the man straight in the skull and he collapsed, dead. His image flickered as the silver hit. "A Doppler attacking people on the streets...?" He was suddenly reminded of Veera's talk of Dopplers and how she was furious that he had let that one live. Was this... Was this what she feared? He gritted his teeth and put the crossbow on his back, then drew his Silver Sword. "Silver for monsters Veera, and it sounds like there's a lot of them out there! Dopplers, rioting in the city! What the hell happened?"
As he sat at the desk, focusing on the writing he wasn't entirely focused on what was happening around him. He wasn't sure how to phrase exactly the fact that he didn't have any real hard feelings and the lie that they were going to tell to Veceslav about how her sword got damage and the fact that she had received some moderate wounds while he had none. It would be a hard sell and would entirely depend on both of their abilities, but mostly his due to the nature of him being the witness to what occurred in full as Veera was knocked out. Therefore, when the door slammed open and Vyle came stumbling in, he was entirely caught by surprise. Quick as a flash, he pulled his steel sword out of the sheath against the table and darted back, knocking over the chair. Luckily, the vampire was focused on other things, and unceremoniously dumped the woman he was carrying, the one he had seen with him on the road, on the bed. He stumbled and the Witcher dropped the sword and raced to Vyle's side, catching him before he could collapse. "Bloody hell Vyle." Derrick muttered as he eased him on to the floor. On the way in, he had seen his horse standing around looking lost and he had recovered the stuff that he had kept with it, including his camping supplies, and left the horse in the stable of the inn. Strictly speaking, he didn't need to sleep but it was refreshing. He laid out his blanket for the vampire and placed him on top of it. He looked at the woman he had brought in. "By Melitele... What the ****?" There was a bolt in her hand that he hadn't yet removed. Good thing too, it could have been messy. Worse than that was what he saw on her fingers. Middle fingers, ring fingers, pinky fingers... Nails all removed. The emotions of a normal person had been stripped away from him, save only the greatest extremes, but he knew this was wrong. It looked like they had been cauterised, so they weren't a worry, but the bolt was. He retrieved a pair of pliers and a hell of a lot of bandages, as well as a few of the ointments and salves that he carried. Carefully, Derrick removed the bolt and was surprised by what he found. "Dimetrium bolts?" Then it hit him. She was a sorceress. Her fingernails had been removed, a common method of torture. The warehouse not far from here, with the cages and Dimetrium shackles... He put the two together. She must be one of the sorceresses. She must have been the one that they took. Bastards. For the next part, he was glad that she was unconscious. He applied various natural solutions that would have stung and burnt were she awake, all of which aided the healing process and ironically, would numb the pain after a while. He bandaged the wound immediately afterwards, satisfied that after the ointments had been applied that the wound was clean and wouldn't fester. (If there are other wounds, assume he treated those too). He looked to the vampire and removed the bolts from his body, seeing that they were the same Dimeritium. Obviously he had found the people that took her, though who they really were was a puzzle. The urge to find them only increased. He was going to take reports of this to Archon, and he was going to make a job out of this. He was a killer of monsters, but the one that had fainted in front of him was infinitely more noble than any of the people that took that poor woman away. And they were probably humans too. No matter. He'd do the right thing, and make a tidy profit from it as well. After all, Witchers didn't work for free and he certainly didn't. Besides, she wouldn't be able to complain. After all, she'd probably want to get back at the people who did this to her and to have a Witcher, a famous killer beyond what ordinary humans could be, would be something to tip the odds far into her favour. He'd discuss it with the two once he got an offer though. For now though, Derrick disturbed them no further. He had reached the limits of his healing. What they would need now in time. In the sorceress' case, a long time and a lot of magic. Many sorceresses used magic to make themselves beautiful, she could do the same to hide what had happened to her, but the scars on her would remain. Not even time would heal those, he expected.
Since Xan is overloaded with work, he's asked me to do this post for him. The soldiers grimaced as the button was pressed. Time seemed to freeze for each of them as they waited for something to happen. They waited, they waited, and they waited. But nothing happened. The two guards looked at each other and nodded. "Get 'em!" The two of them ran up to Ransak and attempted to tackle him down on to the ground, taking him from two different sides. In the meantime, the commotion had attracted another pair of guards who spotted another person who seemed a little confused. Something about a help desk? "A help desk? Sir, where do you think this is, a-" One of them began, then he stopped. "Wait, who are you? What are you doing here anyway?" "Yeah, I don't recognise you." Both of them raised their weapons and pointed them at Vincent. "Hands on your head! Identify yourself!" Jayce heard a voice come on the earpiece. He recognised it as Sophia's. What had she been doing if she hadn't managed to get ahold of him? She probably didn't even have it turned on. Pretty much everyone else had called him. "We've won the battle, that's what's happening. We'll be returning to the Valiant shortly." Jayce replied curtly. He took a last look around the control room once more and headed out on to the battlements where he saw several of the Shards' soldiers shooting from. They were all lying down dead now. He felt a bitter sense of satisfaction from seeing it, though it wasn't going to bring back the soldiers he lost. Or Rose. He gritted his teeth when he remembered that he had allowed her to be captured. As he looked out, he could see the next wave of reinforcements arriving in the distance from behind where he knew The Valiant to be landed. He stood there and watched as the ranks of the Order entered the area and began to secure the tower. Once he was satisfied that all was under control, he returned to The Valiant to see what the situation was like back at the ship, and get a damn good rest. "Sounds like some things go down through the family." Carissa muttered, shaking her head. "I don't know her. All I've got is your opinion, which is of course highly trustworthy. No matter, I'll get to know her soon enough." As she was flying, she heard someone else come over to talk. It sounded like David wanted to know what they were going to do. She didn't relish the thought of it in truth. She had to report their loss to Jaden, and she hated the thought of having to disappoint him. Especially since Sky Tower was quite important... "We'll report to Jaden, then we'll have a short rest before our next deployment." She answered. She could see the Shards' temporary HQ a short distance away. It was a large encampment with fortified walls around it and several towers with soldiers patrolling inside. Aside from those, it was armed to the death with defensive guns and emplacements all around the perimeter. It was designed to be damn difficult to sneak into, and even harder to escape from. The console bleeped as it was hailed by the air defence system. She answered back with her own personal hail and the defence cannons that had targeted her now faced away. The camp was going to be a permanent base for the territory, but for now it was the acting HQ. "Okay everyone, we're coming in for a landing!" The shuttle touched down on a large circular platform made out of metal. She could see as she brought the ship in low that there was a group of people heading towards the landing pad. It was a large group too. Led by an all too familiar face. She turned off the engine and walked out of the shuttle. The ramp clanged down on to the deck and she shot an order out as she left. "One of you, pick up the prisoner! The Inheritor is here to meet us personally!" They had received word of their arrival as soon as they entered the airspace. Usually he didn't bother meeting the teams upon their return but this was a special case. Carissa's team was deployed as an elite squad, and her return meant that there was something to report. However, he had a feeling that this wasn't going to be a good report. IF his predictions had been correct then The Valiant would be flying through that sector and Jayce likely would have ordered an attack. The Inheritor was not entirely confident that they would have won the battle either. Either way, they'd find out soon enough. He summoned the Alpha Company soldiers he kept as a security detail to him and strode towards the landing pad that his cousin would arrive at. By the time the shuttle had landed, he was standing there, flanked by the troops. The ramp touched down and he could see inside. One person bound, that was the first thing that struck him. They had a prisoner. Looking at the people inside, it seemed that the entire team that was dispatched had survived. "Welcome back Carissa, Zahariel, Reitan, Aster, David, Onamakritos." He said formally. He looked each of them in the eye as he addressed them, holding his hands behind his back. "What tidings do you bring? I assume there was a battle." "Yes, Inheritor." She nodded respectfully at him. "It was lost, but we captured the Black Rose, Jayce's assassin." He nodded. "Soldiers, take her to the brig. We'll be having a chat with his personal bloodhound soon." Jaden gestured with a hand and two of the security detail seized Rose from whoever had picked her up. She was taken away to her cell. After that, his gaze returned to the rest of them. "I'm glad to see that you've all made it out alive. While Sky Tower was useful, you are infinitely more valuable than one emplacement. Besides, losing it was not unexpected. The necessary plans have already been laid out to mount a counterattack. For now, the camp is as it is always, yours to make use of. Make sure that you all get some rest and Carissa, resupply your bolts while you have time. If you have any questions, report the captain at my door and it'll get through to me. I'll summon you all together when you're next needed." With that, Jaden turned on his heel and returned to his office with his guards following him. He had to finalise the plans for their next move.
Baldomar's rummaging discovered a broken off part of the sign, saying 'F'. "Well, that's a good point." Kellan said, nodding in agreement. "We'll find out what 'M' is at least." "What did you find there Baldomar?" Aston asked. DM Message: When Baldomar shows everyone what he's found, confirm whether you want to go right or left. [DOUBLEPOST=1455727275][/DOUBLEPOST] Aedan bristled at the stranger's comments. His mocking attitude was most irritating and indicated a clear lack of respect. Obviously his parents hadn't paid much attention to this upstart's behaviour. Also, his name was incredibly silly. The Night Knight? He just seemed so... Underwhelming. And petty. Mostly petty. However, he did not have to act, for Bryce did the work for him. Unfortunately in the process, his breakfast was sprayed all over the floor and he even managed to break some of the cups. He grimaced. This was getting quite... Chaotic. Gertrude intervened at this point, but it seemed that all was not over because the so called 'Night Knight' had stolen all of Bryce's money. He was inspired to react, but Sanderson appeared before he could. Aedan bowed his head respectfully, demonstrating a level of shame for his actions. "I apologise Sanderson, you are correct. I should have kept my composure." He couldn't help but notice that there was something strange in Sanderson's eyes. "In light of what you have said, I believe that I should refrain from aggressive actions. I will settle down and eat." Aedan took a seat again and looked to the innkeeper. "May I have another meal please?" He asked respectfully.
Hauling her back to the city wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be. He was glad that she didn't wear too heavy armour otherwise it might have been a lot more effort. He managed to make his way though Oxenfurt and to an inn not too far away from where the abandoned warehouse that they had found the cages was. That seemed to be a hotbed of activity for the moment and it would be easier for the others to find them if they were close by. In fact, he made a note to the bartender to tell any Witcher they saw that they were in a room upstairs for the moment. That should in theory make it possible for them to find he and Veera, assuming they figured that he'd stop close by. Once he got upstairs, he swung the door open and lay Veera down on the bed. He rolled his eyes. They gave him a double bed. Clearly the owner misunderstood the situation. He removed the swords from her back to allow her to lie easier and leaned the pair of them, straps included against the bedside table. He rummaged through his belongings and pulled out some gauze and bandages and wrapped that around her leg wound to stem the bleeding. Although small, if left untreated it could have been infected. Derrick finally sat down at the table in the room, having cleaned her wound and dressed it, leaning his swords against the table. He recovered a sheet of paper and a pen and began to write an explanatory note to Veera, just in case he had to leave before she woke up. For now, it was time to wait. "Left! Right! Left! Down that bit over there!" Gordon's instructions were of the highest quality. That is to say, vague at best. It would have helped if he had pointed to where he meant, but every time he moved one arm off her he felt as if he was going to tip dangerously and plummet hard to the ground below. Oak was a big horse and falling looked none too fun. However, despite his dodgy directing (And a few wrong turns through two streams and nearly over a broken bridge) they drew close to the encampment. It had been a little while since he was out with Boenn, who showed him around the area as a boy. Ultimately, Boenn had decided that the boy was not a natural hunter and so returned him to Dave to go train as something he would be better at. Farming. "There it is! Over there!" And there it was. The large wooden walls that hid behind them rows upon rows of tents where man and horse milled about. The noise from the garrison could be heard from even this distance. They'd soon arrive at the gate. He felt a little apprehensive as they drew close. These were the invaders of their lands. It was... Terrifying to think that he would be getting so close. The runners bearing their reward soon arrived. He received it with scarcely a nod and told them to inform the one that reported to that they could find Adolin and Alanna at a certain house near the city centre. He thoroughly expected that they would be required again soon for something and he was more than ready. Once all that business was over, he was going to get the man to call in his contacts. They had to find some explosive material somewhere. Lots of it. "So, now that we've just kidnapped a woman and left her to an uncertain fate, what do we do now?" She asked, reclining on the sofa opposite the Doppler at the table with one leg slung over the other. Her partner did not respond, his face impassive as ever as he brooded and ruminated over what they were going to do now. It was however, nice to be back in the home that her old teacher had given her. It was just as she remembered, with the burgundy drapes and pillows, it was all very nice. Not that he noticed any of that, in fact he treated it with the same regard as anywhere. That was to say, none. She couldn't tell whether that was his Witcher's personality, or just his own showing through. Alanna sighed emphatically and stood up. "I'm going to take a bath. Top floor. Don't come in unless it's to rescue me from some terrible danger." She didn't even wait to see if he would acknowledge her and climbed the three flights of stairs to reach it. It was time to put Marla's little contraption to the test again. She had installed a system similar to that of the bathhouses with their water drains and taps with a bit of magical assistance. She even managed to heat the water too. Once she turned the crystals that controlled it, she was not disappointed. She retrieved a glass bottle from one of the many cabinets and poured some of the contents in, filling the room with the scent of lavender. She sighed happily. Finally she could get clean and relax for a while in peace. Adolin remained downstairs. When she went upstairs, he stood up and started to walk around the house, familiarising himself with it. He explored the downstairs, the sitting room he was in, the dining room and surprisingly expansive kitchen with all kinds of apparatus. He raised an eyebrow. He never would have imagined Alanna or her teacher to be such enthusiastic cooks. Some of this looked to be from Zerrikania, somewhere foreign at least. Purely for cooking though. According to Carrak's knowledge, none of this really seemed to be alchemical equipment. The other notable thing downstairs was a sizeable wine cellar. He hadn't imagined Alanna to be a drinker either. He trudged up the stairs to the next floor. Bedrooms primarily, though there was a space for one to relieve oneself. As he stepped into one, he saw it was a fairly plain room in comparison to the others. Two of them were quite large, with vanities, wardrobes and chests of drawers and shelves, though one had all its drawers pulled out and were emptied. Upon an examination of that particular room, he had determined that the owner had left. He judged it to be Alanna's teacher's room. The other was obviously Alanna's room. This one must have been a guest room. He'd stay here, he supposed. He moved up to the next floor, noting that it was the last was he was permitted entry to. It was completely bare. The entire floor was visible, an entire wide space the width of the whole house but nothing inside. The medallion started vibrating at something that wasn't him for once, and with a bit of Carrak's knowledge he pieced together that this must have been a magical workshop of sorts. He could hear water upstairs, that meant it was a no-go. He'd check that out later. For now, Adolin returned to the guest room for a moment and looked in the mirror at himself. He looked at the harsh, bearded face of the Witchr and the Viper medallion that hopped around incessantly on his neck. He had to take a break from this form. He closed his eyes and it was done in moments. When he opened his eyes it was another, more familiar face staring back at him. The long blue, ragged coat, the long and messy black hair and the clean shaven face. More importantly, the array of swords strapped to him. The real Carrak of Cintra's blades hung on his back, the blade he slew the Witcher with on his left hip and a belt of throwing knives robbed from the Witcher along his chest. Even in his non-enhanced form, he had trained this body, he had fought with this body. It was ready to be a lethal killing machine. He was ready. It was nice to be in this body again, if only for a while.
Vance soon regretted those words once his outburst was finished. Thea stumbled away, jettisoning blue flames in every which direction. It was going to be an utter disaster if someone didn't act fast, and Vance knew that despite the breakdown of their relationship, it was his duty to solve this. Not anyone else's. Not Conrad's, nor Damian's, not Zephyros and certainly not Shani. No, this was his burden. The nobleman rushed to her side despite the fire, hoping that the coat would do some work in resisting it. It was hot, as always when she unleashed the flames that she couldn't control. She'd probably hate him now, even though he was trying to do something right. But he had to try. If he didn't try, then he'd have failed not only her but himself. He scooped Thea up into his arms as soon as he reached her, and embraced her as tightly as he could. "That's impossible I'm afraid Thea." He said sadly. "You'll have to make do with me instead." At least I tried. Nobody else here took up the task.
"We protect people when they need it Veera! We're not indiscriminate killers!" No, he thought, that's only when we're paid to do it. But the still stood. And she didn't seem to have any concept of differences between monsters. Not all monsters were worth killing, not all of them needed to die. Dopplers lived in peace for the most part, Godlings were mostly harmless (If mischievous) and there were always differences. Vampires like Vyle were not necessarily evil, but she would have killed him all the same. "I won't let our name become a byword for mass murder!" He held his sword in a high guard to his right side and watched her advance. His left hand flicked into Quen as she sent the Igni flaring for him, charging like a berserker behind it. He crouched, tensing his leg muscles, preparing to spring when he needed to. Then she did something unexpected. She jumped, and in a split second the Witcher dived forwards headlong into the flames. The heat washed over him and the Quen Sign broke, which defended him from the heat. He sprung up to his feet and executed a half pirouette to face her. She was facing away, giving him a chance. His thoughts travelled back to a time when he was in a bar with a bar fight going. The words "Kick his legs out!" echoed in his head. And so, he did. Derrick raced up to her and swept his legs into the backs of her knees and pulled her down with his left hand. When she was on the ground, he dropped the sword and punched her in the temples as hard as he could. Veera was out cold. "Sorry, but it has to be done." He said solemnly before picking her unconscious body and slung it over his shoulder. The city wasn't far off. Maybe he could find his way back to somewhere safe. Maybe. Hefting her weight, he walked towards the city.
He hadn't made a bad cut, he was glad, but it still wasn't enough. She was still standing, and it was even worse than before. Her sword came low, so Derrick quickly stepped back to evade the blow. What he hadn't expected was her right hand to yank out the silver sword. He gritted his teeth. She was beyond help . Veera was a beast now, something that lusted for blood. She struck from the right again and closed in with a pirouette. He parried it as he stepped into her guard. Wielding two swords, she was now defenceless since he was up close. Derrick's left fist lashed out towards her face. He drew it back and quickly drew the Sign of Aard again before spinning away, making distance. Silver on Steel wouldn't end well for the Silver. It would be worn down. If this went on too long, he would end up wearing her sword down until it was unusable. "Have you forgotten everything you learned? Steel for humans, Silver for monsters!" He called. "If I didn't know better, I'd consider using Silver!" It pained him to see it going this way. Sadly, she had never been famous for being rational. At times like this he wished the Crow was here. I'm just a Witcher damn it! But if nobody else is going to fight her, it'll have to be me!
As soon as her eyes turned he knew that he was in trouble. He started to back up and raised his left hand to draw the Sign of Aard, sending a heavy pushing force forwards. He saw her form Quen. At least the Aard would probably break it. His right hand leaped to his own blade and by pulling the strap that held the blades down, the sword flashed out of its scabbard as he drew it out. Her charge was headlong and thoughtless which gave him a small advantage. Derrick executed a graceful half pirouette to step away from the swing which he knew would not fall wide and hit him, and sliced low towards her thigh. He had no intention of killing her, but he had to cripple her at least. At his blow landed, he spun into another twirl, putting himself on the opposite side of her, and he held his blade to his right "I didn't think that you were this serious in the Kaer Veera." The Witcher said, his eyes narrowed as he circled her. "Since when have you taken up arms against old friends?"
He saw the bacon and eggs on his plate. His mouth watered at the very sight of them. Cooked perfectly, he could see it. Just like it was at home, on a proper fire. The bacon the perfect spot between pink and a charred brown. The egg, the yolk brighter than the most glorious sunrise and ever more worth savouring. No life had died meaninglessly, he could see that. This was not food, this was the thing that he had heard known as art! And then... "What do you think you are doing young man!?" Bellowed the once quiet Aedan. He stood up and glared at the so called 'Night Knight' with fury in his eyes. "That was my breakfast and it is too early for this! Unhand my food and give it to me or I shall give you a hiding that will make you wish it were you who had been split in twain! I have friends that you couldn't possibly imagine!" Damn kids. He wished he were back home. People back home would never have done something this dastardly. These were dark times when young men could steal food from humble druids.
He heard Veera coming before she spoke up. It would be impossible not to. Her breathing was off. She seemed to be breathing intensely, and he was certain it wasn't from combat. As he looked around, he saw that she could clearly see him. And that meant that she would notice that their friend had run away. A quick survey of her told him that she was pissed. Fists clenched, her muscles tensed, she wasn't going to like his answer. She was really, really going to hate his answer. He readied himself. He tensed his leg muscles, ready to spring back and flexed his fingers. He was going to need to draw Axii fast. He met her eyes coolly. "I told him to take a run. It's nice weather out. No rain, crisp air. Ground is solid, not going to slip over." He answered with the same joking manner as always. "Don't know which way he went though. I was busy admiring the view of this pond to notice." He added a shrug, just to heighten the effect. He was well aware of what this was going to do, and it was intentional. She had murder in those amber eyes and he would be damned if there was more bloodshed and horror today, not after the cruelty of the cages in that warehouse. He took things to the next stage. "Why does it matter to you anyway? He's just a guy. If you wanted a good ploughing that badly you could have just asked me." He winked. Yes, she was going to be enraged. So enraged in fact that she was going to forget that she could just look for the tracks and follow them. He decided that Aard was going to be better here. It was simpler to draw than Axii and he could knock her own sign off if she chose to use one. He watched her body movements intently, every little twitch.
What she was saying was true. Entirely true. He hated to admit it to himself, but he couldn't deny that she was entirely right. At that time, talking to Shani had been more important. Now though, he wasn't sure what to think. Of anything. It was like Florica said, they came from different worlds. And what did he think of her anyway, feel for her? It was probably little more than curiosity, a fascination with something, someone new. It seemed very silly to him, looking at it. And she was right, he didn't know how to be a dad. "You're right. I don't know how to be a Dad, but then again, how should I?" He said bitterly, looking at Thea and glancing up to Conrad. "I'm not perfect, nor am I paragon of light, and justice!" He looked back at Thea. "I'm different to all of you here. I haven't seen the world, or met all the people in the world or become strong through years of adventuring! At least I'm honest about my failings, willing to admit when I'm wrong. And I know I've not been good at parenting, but what do you expect from me? Your old father? He's dead! I'll never be him, you're not my real child but I'm trying my best anyway even though I've never even met anyone that I'd want to have as a wife, someone I'd want to be the mother for my child! And you say that I don't care?" He snapped. He had come this far, he had to let the rest out. "So have a little gratitude! I'm doing my best! I'm struggling with this too! I don't know how to be a dad? You don't know how to be a good daughter! You don't make this easy! For the Gods' sake, this is the first time I've been out of my own world! I'm struggling with the issue that all of these perfect fools around dealt with years ago because I never got the chance to discover what it was like to fall in love myself! I might have lived in luxury these people could only dream of, but at least they got the chance to discover what being human was!" He wasn't even angry at Thea now. Now it was the world. Now it was his parents, his father, the way he had been groomed to be a cog in a machine that wasn't meant to think. He resented magic for getting him thrown out of his own world, ironically it was probably the best thing that had ever happened. When he entered the office, the first thing that he noticed was the whip on the desk. He was looking for something that would confirm his suspicions about the cruelty of the judge, other than the awful conditions she was being kept in, and that was good enough. He picked the disgusting item up from the desk and opened the window in his office and threw it out on to the street. He looked around, trying to find anything else that would confirm his terrible actions, but all he found was a map. At which point he was reminded that he was here for a reason. He had to find some clue as to Johanna's whereabouts. The Town Hall seemed to be the best place. Even if the judge was there, he would have no reason to suspect that he had been to the house. At least, not yet. He'd deal with the judge later. For now, he had to get back on track. He went back into the room. "I'm stepping out for a bit. I need to do some things in the city. I'll be back again later. Just watch out of the window for me, alright?" He said, before leaving and heading for the town hall. "I guess if they want to go, but there's something else." She didn't want to mention the other thing that came to mind, but there was a real problem that they might face. She spoke quietly to him. "They're not exactly human looking. Not everyone on the mainland is accepting as we wizards seem to be. Unless they get serious magical help, non-magical people are going to hate them for the rest of their lives. And if they're royal... It's not going to be nice for them."
