Shu's Quest

[Script]

Derwood

This entire place was like, backwards. It was a bar! There were supposed to be brawls, drunks and enough loose change for a man to make a killing! Instead he had wandered into what any man--possibly of a more future time--would think was some sort of primitive gentleman's club. And not in the good way. This one was just a bunch of scary folks talking amongst themselves, shooting glares at old Derwood and generally being inhospitable.

The whole blasted city was backwards. Jeez, it's like the whole place was designed against Derwood's fabulous exploits. Why, that had to be it! The entire city was rigged, they had obviously heard of the Master Thief he wasn't and constructed this entire place to entrap him! But Derwood was too smart of that, for any of them!

Derwood dashed outside, looks of confusion on the faces of the patrons. They wouldn't catch him haha! He would always be free except all those times he was caught.

Edited September 24, 2010 by Script

[SuperFush]

"What good would lying low do? I've interfered with other operatives, ignored my orders, betrayed my cell. They'll find me whether I lay low or not." Eltiar glanced at the paper. It contained much as he expected. He sighed and crumpled it between his hands. "If they find me easily, then they won't feel any reason to look deeper. If they don't, though..." Eltiar's hand rose, almost of it's own volition, to the fine silver chain around his neck. Suspended from the chain was a small locket, perpetually cold against his skin. The hand fell back to his side. "Well, either way, it ends with me. Just a little longer, and he'll be well and truly out of it."

Eltiar wandered amongst the trees for a moment, his fingers brushing lightly against the bark. It wasn't far from here, where, all those years ago, he'd rescued a young swordsman from a marauding band of trolls...had it really been nearly twenty years? When they'd first met, Stark had been barely more than a boy, but...well, he\d grown up, but fate hadn't been kind to him. When he lost his eye...he'd tried to cope for a few years, but in the end, the stresses of such a violent and dangerous life overpowered him, and he'd retired from their business. Eltiar couldn't blame him. It was a hard life, no doubt, and Stark was hardly the only of his comrades to have retired...Eltiar had considered retirement himself. He'd considered it many time, and he'd thought hard. But, in the end, he knew...he couldn't. He couldn't leave this world as it was for those who came after. He couldn't leave his daughter to grow and live in such a world.

"Remus." The two had long ago gone past the point of using the other's codename in private conversation. "You say I am a very wanted man. While you are correct, it doesn't quite cover the entire story. Anyone can see some small bit of what the future holds. I'm not merely a wanted man. I'm a dead man. So, please, take my final requests." He took a deep breath. "One, I know you would do even if I didn't ask, but even so I must. Please watch over Yuki. I am sure that you and Drin are still the only other operatives to know of her existence. Please see to it that it remains so." He sighed. "For the other...watch over Stark. He doesn't know what he's gotten into...he's a good, brave man. I'd trust him with my life - have trusted him with my life - and...well, he's one of the few friends I have left."

[lunarAegis]

Jeph.

"Dom, you've got a thinking face on right now. If what you're think of is going to find Stark on your own, don't be a moron. Think about it, if you get caught alone you're pretty much fucked. If there're two of us we've got a much better chance in a fight. I agree that we should find Stark though. I imagine our welcome is quickly coming to a close in this city, perhaps in others as well- depending on how vindictive the paladins are feeling."

Jeph thought for a moment. That was more words than he'd strung together for at least the past day, maybe two. Probably since Oakheim. He still didn't really know what happened then... was his sister dead? And more importantly, why didn't he care? It seemed like he aught to care about that kind of thing, but it wasn't bothering Jeph.

"But yeah, we should act sooner rather than later."

[CATS]

"I don't want to leave the whole city, of course, I still have things to sell! Just this one spot, in case those metalheads come back," Lyle replied to Fargo, backed up by Dom soon afterward. Hey, that was something out of the ordinary, someone agreed with Lyle for once! Everyone has to have a good idea eventually, though. Once they had settled into their new spot to sell junk (in Lyle's case) and stand around awkwardly (in everyone else's case), Lyle figured he would try to go 2 for 2 on the good ideas thing. Hell, that might even be a personal record, if he was honest with himself (which he rarely if ever was).

"Yeah, we should totally find that Stark guy. I think he had that cube thing, didn't he? About that, how about that cube thing you guys were so worked up over a while back? My offer still stands, you know, the thing where I take it off your hands and sell it for lots of money probably to some dusty old museum guy or some super badass mage or something like that. It sounded like you guys really have no use for it, so what do you say? Let's find Stark, pawn it, split the profits, and get drunk!" Lyle exclaimed.

Then when the other guys were wasted, Lyle would steal their cut of the money, then run away and get drunk himself for Lightkratos only knew how long. What a plan! Sometimes Lyle amazed even himself.

"I promise you guys I could even sell it for you, I'm a super good merchant. Watch this! Hey you, you there, want to buy a package deal? Buy this rusty knife, and you get a plain shirt for free, no strings attached! What a deal, eh? Hey, come on, come back! It's a great deal, I promise!.....ok, maybe we'll need you to sell it, Helios, since you're such an experienced merchant and--hey, where'd Helios go? Oh well. So what do you guys think?"

---

"Whoa hey, Fuego! Why didn't you tell me you were in town?!" Klints exclaimed, turning away from his current task of moving one merchant's tent across the street. His energetic burst of excitement at the sight of his partner sent the merchant's tent flying across several different streets and through several different stands; Klints didn't really notice, he was too busy running over to Fuego.

"Oh hey, you're already getting fire together and stuff, you must be really pumped up for our mission here! I am too! I was helping these merchants move their stuff around, you know, because I'm a superhero and all, and hey? Did I tell you I decided to become a superhero? This is my costume, like it? I think it's really neat! Anyways, I was helping the merchants move stuff, because it's the moving market you know, but now you're here, so we can do what we came here to do. I think we were gonna find Eisig and tell him Mr. Light died somehow, then work together to find out who the killer was? Yeah, that sounds about right! Let's do it!"

Without another word, Klints zoomed off, haphazardly weaving his way through the moving market with no particular method or direction in mind.

[rn7]

Fargo got a quicky job at a nearby restaurant while the other went off in search of fortune and Stark, though not necessarily in that order. He personally didn't see the point in trying to find someone in the moving market, and he didn't have anything to sell. The task at hand was a rather simple one. Fargo was to neatly stack chairs. The task proved quite a bit more formidable than he had initially expected, though. Apart from the fact that the chairs were mismatched, misplaced, and all over mistreated, the poor bastions of seated weight support had bent and deformed due to the restaurant patrons' quite heavy builds. Fargo tried all sorts of orientations and fixtures, stacking sideways, diagonally, vertically, horizontally, upside-down, inside-out (which was quite the feat), but to no avail. It was then that he realized why he was hired on such short notice, and without much hassle.

This task was near impossible. No normal man could hope to arrange the chairs in a sensible manner. Though luck may have it, Fargo was the determined type, and not one to abandon a job after he took it on. He put on his thinking cap, which was not much more than his bucklers wrapped around his head. Helped blood flow and all that.

When sufficient blood had flowed or not flowed to his head, that is to say, when enough blood was in his head that he got a bit wobbly and dizzy, Fargo unbuckled his bucklers and went to work. Though really, nothing had really changed and Fargo had no idea what he was doing. Fargo would toss the chairs around like wood into a fire, letting it settle where it would, feeding the chair pile. Before he knew it, in front of him stood a menacing tower of chairs whose armrests made neighbors with the clouds.

Looking at the monstrosity that he had just created in front of him, Fargo became overwhelmed with a strange urge. Instinctively, his arms and legs moved toward the tower, and he placed a single hand on it. It creaked and shivered from the wind, and vibrated violent from every footstep and disturbance on the ground. It, in everywhere, should not be standing right now. It should be falling to the ground, succumbing to the force of gravity, crashing and burning into the mishmash it was before Fargo picked up that first chair.

He could not stop himself now. Fargo put one foot on the bottom chair, then the other. Then his hands, both of them. He moved slowly at first, his feet and hands moving at in controlled, planned motion. The chairs groaned at every move he made, and still he persisted, one chair at a time. Higher, higher, he ascended, not daring once to peer down at the ground, for he was long past going back down. He could fell the air getting thinner as he went up, and the temperature more bitter and cold. At times he could feel his hands going numb, his fingers losing grip, the impending dread that he was going to fall.

And he was, if it weren't for the fact that he was already on top. Now, like a royal majesty conquering the rolling hills, Fargo looked upon the ground, looked all around, seeing all. He gazed down, mouth slack open in amazement. It was as if he was a god, resting upon the mystical tower, looking down to watch the little insignificant bugs scuttle about. Dazed, possibly oxygen-deprived, Fargo took one last look at the sky above.

The tower collapsed, breaking down and crumbling, the ruins running down as Fargo too descended from the highest chair. It was as if a hand was grasping him, and pulling him back to everything he had climbed away from. But it was not a hand of malice, but one of reality. It did not speed down, it did not do with fuss or a mess. Slowly, like a careful hand leading a hamster down to its cage, Fargo touched with earth again.

There was only one chair left. The one Fargo was sitting on. A figure stepped into the cloud of dust that surrounded Fargo. It was a hand. It reached out, and Fargo felt compelled to meet it. He shook the hand, and a moment later, a stack of money appeared in his lap.

"Well, I'll be, you've got to be the best chair stacker I've ever seen! You've got all of 'em folded up! Oh, 'cept that one, but that's alright, you can keep it!"

Thus was the story of Fargo's most favored chair.

[mr_e_s]

Remus

"I still count you as a friend..." Remus leaned against a tree and gazed off at nothing, thinking about Eisig... Eltiar. He'd truly always been the master of the double life. Most people who got involved with the Order eventually abandoned their life in favour of their work. Certainly Remus had done it, though his life had always been something he'd been looking to escape. He just never expected the escape that came. Eisig seemed to always be willing to fight for his right to live, though. He even refused a position on the council (Remus had fought very hard to get him that offer in the first plce, he'd been somewhat miffed about ti at the time). Even now, at the end, it wasn't himself he was concerned about, but the two children of his. His daughter and his adoptive son. "You know I was going to keep a watchful eye over her anyways. And though it's been a little while, don't worry, I haven't spread your secret around. As for the boy, though... I don't think his situation is much, if any better then yours. He still has the cube, I think, and that's not something we can just let get out there. If it wasn't for that silly man with the juggling balls, none of this needed to have happened. And what comes next wouldn't... but I will at least myself, not actively pursue him, that's about all I can promise there, I'm afraid."

"I wonder which of us will be right in the end, though?" Remus hadn't really segued into that at all, but his old friend likely knew better then to expect Remus to do anything but follow his own trains of thought. "All that certainty I once had, I find it's wavered some over the years. Not that it really matters which of us was wrong or right any more. Philosophy and facts have a nasty habit of not interconnecting overly. And the facts, the ones I find myself regretting. Those can't be talked away." Remus still wore a faint smile, but his eyes held none of it. He rose back up off the tree, and made himself look at Eisig again. "How did we end up here?"

[SuperFush]

"I can't really say when things started to change. I used to believe that we were all doing the right thing too. Hah." Eltiar leaned against a tree. He suddenly felt incredibly weary. "You know, I wanted to invite Stark to join us, once...but after his accident, and after I began to become disillusioned with us...well, that plan changed." He sighed. "All the things we fought for...where are they now? All the good men who've died...what were their sacrifices for? It feels like we've lost track of our original purpose. People like Prophet running around...it isn't right. "

He straightened, smoothing his clothes and taking a deep breath. "Remus. I am going to Keeparch. There's information there that I need. I...can't say much, but I believe it may have something to do with what the cube does. Forgive me for not saying more, but..." He flashed a mirthless smile. "Well, one does have promises to keep. Even from friends. I...hope you understand. Much of what I have accomplished is thanks to your support, and I truly appreciate everything you've done for me. You've always been one of my most reliable friends, and..." He squeezed shut his eyes for a moment. "Heh. Forgive an old man's emotions. Godspeed, Remus. I wish you well in all future endeavours."

With those words, he turned and walked into the gloom of the forest.

[rn7]

Free decided that actively following orders was kind of boring, so he just went along walking, talking to the Whistler about the weather, politics, the chemical formula behind some kind of substitute for flying magic he was working on. He was particularly excited about the flying formula, so much so that he went into a long explanation of how it worked, and why he did it, and what it was going to do for everyone. He talked in an speedy, yet concise tone, like a man on a mission to deliver message to as many people as possible.

"Ah, well you see, dear Tim, propulsion via the displacement of wind is approximately twenty times as efficient as flight via other means, such as fire or ground, or, haha, even ice. Who would be so silly as to do that? Any way, with fire and ground, too much of the force is devoted simply to pushing solid matter out of the way, be that fuel for fire, or dirt for ground. You'd not achieve much height with dirt, not at all. However, it has an oddly... oscillatory nature, like a wave. I suspect a parallel with earthquakes and such. A momentum of sorts, once gathered, there is much difficulty in stopping it. If it can be done, it will be powerful! My research tends away from such inconveniences though, I have not the proper expenses to fund such expensive work. Not to mention the horrible ruckus it would cause, not exactly subtle when faux earthquakes occur. Now fire, that is a subject of interest. It too requires a lot of energy. I still have not found a sufficient fuel source to support sustained flight, but I am not discouraged! If I am to discover this wonderful substance, then the world will turn on itself! Imagine, a fuel so efficient it can support flight and last nearly indefinitely! Say what you will about the arms race, but there is no better venue for development and innovation. It benefits the people in the end!"

Free truly believed what he was doing was good at the end of all things. So far he had just done showy tricks and flashy displays. Sure, he could have asked Whistler to fetch him the confiscated vial. He could had used a ladder or a rope. But he didn't, because he wanted to see for himself the progress that had been made and to measure the extent of how far that progress could go. It was like he was confirming to himself that, yes, this was a practice worth pursuing.

"Ah, perhaps it is not enough just to have wind, however. I should request that Drin build me a pair of wings, or some such flying apparatus, it would make things a tinge easier." Free fiddled around with the vial of wind magic, staring deeply into it, as if to ask it what it wanted. He quickly put it back after a few seconds. "Any how, dear Tim, what's happening in politics today? I believe I have heard some rumblings in some council of sorts, new elections? Dear me, I hope it does not affect my access to materials."

[mr_e_s]

Stark

"No. Cause that's just-why would they-there's just no-..." Stark sighed and took a deep breath. He covered his face with his hands and Took a step back. "That's just dumb. Why would they come after Eltiar? All he did was save my ass a couple times, and he's been doing that for years! All of a sudden, that means he's got to be hunted? Well guess what, the shit I've seen him pull off, he's going to kill every last one of you! You know what? Maybe I'll give him a hand!" Stark pulled out his sword, he wasn't swinging it around, but he wasn't too far from it either. The rest of the bar took note, particularly a couple off duty guards. Stark had the look in his eyes of a crazy person. The kind you cross the moving street to avoid.

Seemingly finding his target, Stark walked up to the guy with the fake arms and with his offhand, decked him square in the jawline. It didn't make him feel any better, it just kind of hurt his hand. He wasn't about to stop though. He turned around and flipped the table, then started talking at Drin. "Where do you get off deciding who lives or dies? He broke some stupid rule and now he's going to be hunted and kiled?! Is this worth it? IS IT? WELL FUCK THIS WHOLE BIG GROUP THING, FUCK THOSE STUPID RULES, AND FUCK YOU TOO, YOU OLD GOAT! YOU CAN GO STRAIGHT TO HELL YOU WITHERED OLD SON OF A-"

Stark was cut short by a tackle from the side. One of the guards was brave. The other one would be now too, with Stark down. He didn't care about them, they were just in the way. Fuck, he was so close! This guy had answers! He probably knew how to find Eltiar, and he could get away! Fuck! He started struggling with the first guard befor the second got there. They probably thought they had the advantage two on one. "Get...OFF ME!" Stark brought a leg up in between the tackler's legs. It was a cheap shot, but he wasn't in a fair fighting mood. The second guy looked less brave again all of a sudden. Stark was just happy to have someone to scrap with right now. He slammed the brunt of his blade against this guys face. It wasn't even a fight. Dumbass just stood there and took it. Stark stood over two two of them as 8 more walked in. Someone must have run out and called for help, cause they weren't all from a single group. There was a paladin there, at the front, in charge, and a couple guys that looked mroe like forest bandits then city guards, a few guys who looked like they didn't have to use their weapons lots, and one chick in the back of the group that looked like she'd be the one worth fighting.

"Well? COME ON!"

It was brutal. Stark he;d his own for all of 30 seconds, which was enough time to knock two of the useless ones unconscious, and severely cut up one of the bandit looking guys. The paladin and the girl were what fucked him, the paladin more because of the full armour, the girl kind of made him attack through the paladin to get to her. It was a smart move, and he hadn't been thinking straight... Still wasn't. "Get off of me, you bunch of pansies! The 5 remaining guards had him pretty dead to rights. One of the grunts was carrying his sword, and the paladin had his arms restrained with some rope from the girl around his hands, behind his back.

"You're going to be hanged for this one, villain!" The paladin shouted aloud, so the crowd could hear. Because there was a crowd, they always came when it was time for justice to be enforced. They'd probably all come to his hanging too, unless there was business to be done.

"LET ME GO YOU TIN CAN!" Without a place to vent it, all Stark's rage was back. He just wanted to hit something some more. "LET ME GO AND WE'LL GO TOE TO TOE AGAIN, SEE IF THAT SAME OLD HIDE BEHIND THE FATASS IN THE FULL ARMOUR WORKS AGAIN!" Stark was shouting louder, not out of anger, though it was definitely there. He was kind of hoping some of the guys might hear him and help him out, but he was pretty sure that second part wouldn't happen. He didn't know them very well, wasn't sure he'd do it for them. Shit. Maybe Eltiar would show up and save him...

[CATS]

After getting no real reaction from his allies, Lyle had gone ahead and taken his own plan into action. He wasn't sure where the other guys were, probably still standing around that cart and looking awkward. Fine with Lyle, who needs them anyways? He really had no clue where to start looking for Stark, but fortunately, he got one pretty quickly. There was some sort of huge ruckus a few tent rows over, which Lyle quickly decided to investigate. When something big was going on, people were always distracted, which meant it would be easy to pick their pockets. When Lyle arrived on the scene, however, he completely forgot about pick-pocketing. Stark was being held fast by a paladin, surrounded by lots of other armed guards and an angry mob of sorts. The guards must've busted whatever sketchy deal Lyle had seen him making earlier. Shit, good thing he had stayed out of that.

Suddenly, Lyle had his third good idea of the day. Definitely a personal record.

"Hey! Hey, I know him!" Lyle shouted out, jabbing a finger at the captive Stark.

"You do? Are you an associate of this man? Would you care to testify for his good nature? If no one can bear witness to his redeeming qualities, he will surely be hung--not that I am reluctant to dole out that punishment, of course" the paladin asked.

"What? Uhh....no, no I wouldn't! He's a complete scoundrel! In fact, he stole from me, the rotten scumbag!" Lyle answered.

"Stole from you? Unsurprising, given the violent and unpredictable nature he has displayed so far. What did he take? I will see that it is returned," the paladin said.

"He stole a cube! I'm not sure how to describe it, but it's like a cube, and it's a valuable ancient artifact. He stole it because he knew I was going to auction it. I think he has it in his pockets right now! Bastard!" Lyle shouted at Stark.

"Indeed."

The paladin searched Stark's pockets, quickly finding and retrieving the cube.

"This is it?" he asked.

"Yes, that's it! Let me have it!" Lyle said, moving over to the paladin to accept the cube. He snatched it out of the man's armored fingers, then turned and disappeared into the crowd. Yeah, screw these guys, getting arrested like that? Lyle didn't need to be seen with them, they had already pissed the paladins off once today, this would be strike two. Nope, he was gonna leave them in the dust for sure. He was just going to make his way to Highrise or Keeparch, sell this piece of junk for a mountain of ducats, and get drunk until Lightkratos only knew when. Meanwhile the rest of those guys were probably still standing around his cart in an awkward silence, they probably hadn't even seen Lyle pull that stunt. What a great plan! Lyle's luck had completely turned around!

---

Klints zipped around town, not really sure where he was going, where Eisig was, or even where Fuego was. It was pretty easy to get lost in this town, what with all the moving around. You would think Fuego could keep up with him, but knowing that guy, he probably decided that navigating the ever-shifting streets took too much effort and laid down somewhere to take a nap. Good ol' Fuego, never riled up or over-excited about anything. Figured since he was the smart one, you have to back away from stuff and look down at it to think good about it, or something like that. Something called "obfuscivity," or something like that, Klints had never really understood it. It was for the smart people anyways. Like Fuego.

"Oh, that guy's waving at me!"

A rather small man stood on the side of the street, dressed in plain, dark red robes. Klints made his way over to the guy and ground to a halt in front of him.

"Hello, fair citizen! What aid may I give you today?" Klints asked eagerly, ready to fulfill his role as the friendly neighborhood superhero.

"Ah, yes. Klints, I believe? I was told that you were......eccentric. I see that I was not misinformed. I am here on official business. Why don't we step over here?" the man said.

"Oh, ohhh! Ok!" Klints answered, quickly lowering his voice to a whisper. He wasn't supposed to let anyone know about the organization, it was really secret. It was so super secret, actually, that Klints didn't even what to call it! So he usually just went with "the good guys," since Klints obviously wouldn't be a part of it if it wasn't the right cause. Klints followed the little man through the streets towards some sort of commotion, soon arriving at a scene where some guy was being held down by some guards for something. Looked like he'd been really bad, the guys were talking about hanging him. Too bad Klints hadn't caught this earlier, he could've helped beat the bad guy down!

"What's wrong here? It looks like the guards have it all under control! And what's he giving to that guy?" Klints said.

"Do not worry yourself with that. It simply happens to be in close proximity to the real item of interest in this vicinity. Also, why are you whispering?" the man answered.

"Because this is secret!" Klints answered.

"No, no it's not. Rest assured that no one will hear or understand anything that we say here, not anyone who shouldn't, at least. I have seen to that."

"Oh, ok! So what cell are you from? Your cell is probably just starting out or something, right? You don't look very strong."

"Internal affairs."

"Huh? Interna what? Never heard of that before. I figured you guys were new! Want me to show you the ropes? I'm pretty good at this super secret stuff!"

"I would love to, but that will have to wait. There are more pressing matters at hand. Your cell is led by a man named Eltiar, correct?"

"What? Eltiar? No, I've never heard that name. Our cell is led by a guy called Eisig. He's really old and wise and powerful!"

"Ah, yes--Eisig. I do my best to ignore all these silly codenames. Regardless, I have need of Eltiar. Could you please take me to him?"

"What for? I'm not supposed to let you know who we are unless you have a good reason, you know. See, if you weren't so new, you would know that. It's ok though, I know you're probably just getting used to this job."

"I fear I am being hunted by enemies of our group; one of my cellmates was brutally murdered a short while ago, and I may be next. I need a powerful figure such as Eltiar to give me protection and bring word of my plight to the council. As you surely understand, this is an urgent matter, and I would prefer not to be delayed by any further questions."

"Oh, ok. That's a pretty good reason. Say, one of my buddies just died too! Maybe these are the same bastards that killed Mr. Lightning! Sorry, I don't know where Eisig is, though. I was actually here to find him, just like you! Why do you keep calling him Eltiar? His name is Eisig!"

"I see. Well, my sources have informed me that Eltiar is somewhere in this city. Since we have a mutual interest in finding him, we may as well help each other out. There is, however, a problem--I do not want the people hunting me to identify members of other cells by observing my interactions with them. If they were to spot me associating with Eltiar, they might be able to deduce his nature as a leader in our organization, and subsequently target him. That is the last thing we would want, right?"

"Right! I definitely wouldn't want Eisig to die! So what do I have to do?"

"Simply lead me to Eltiar. I will follow you at a distance, out of sight. I have already identified one possible lead--as I mentioned earlier, he can be found right in front of us."

The man indicated the bar which the one-eyed criminal had just been dragged out of.

"There is a man sitting in that establishment with armor covering a single arm and most of the same shoulder. He is known as the Tinker. He is an ally, and as a member of the organization, he may be able to provide us with some clues. I need you to go in and talk to him. I will meet you outside, where we can analyze any information that you might have acquired," he said.

"Ok, gotcha! Let's do this!" Klints said.

Klints walked quickly into the bar--there were lots of guards inside, holding swords out and telling people to quiet down and go back to their business, everything had been taken care of. Klints weaved between them, easily identified the Tinker, and sat down by him. There was another guy by him, a big guy who looked like there was something funny with his arms, but Klints couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

"Hey, Tinker!" Klints said. "I'm Klints! I'm a good guy! I'm looking for my cell leader, he's called Eisig. He's pretty powerful and famous, so you probably know who he is. Have you seen him lately? I really need to find him. Someone's hunting us down, one by one, and we need to find Eisig so he can help stop them. Two of us have already died! It's a pretty big deal!" Klints said to the man.

[Purg]

It had all happened so fast - he hadn't even had the time to draw his sword, not that he would have planned on using it. Stark was right about Eltiar's likely fate. It was a stupid thing that was going to happen. He wished that he could throw half as good a fit as Stark could, but that was something that he had lost his talent for as he had aged. So much had changed with the loss of his youth - his capacity for anything other than sadness, he'd noticed, and he'd been fighting off sadness for a long while now. It wasn't something he could talk to his companions about - personal bonds between comrades were frowned upon, almost as much as family. But Eltiar... He was always a man who could listen, if there was anything to listen to. And without his old friend to count on... He was worried the sadness would overtake him, like it had, before he left his home.

But now was certainly not the time for that. He helped Andy up, apologizing for Stark's behavior. "I shoud've expected him to react like that - it's not often you hear that a man you know so well could be killed for such little cau..." He trailed off, gaping in shock. The cube. The phylactery. It had been in Stark's possession, all along. That would explain everything, then - why Eltiar stopping his comrade would result in a manhunt, why he had vanished so suddenly. He had thrown his role away, instead opting to save his friend from the trouble he had found himself in... which was the worst thing that could happen.

He could barely remember to help Andy all the way up, nearly dropping him against the floor. It seemed someone was trying to talk to him. A man - no, a boy, hardly more than a child - who... seemed to be one of the organization. He was almost sick with the realization that his own sons were hardly older than this child - hopefully they would end up in better circumstances, even if it was without their fool of a father.

"I... know him, but I haven't seen Eisig in quite some time." He was wary with how he would answer this round of questions - before, he had been trying to shield clandestine secrets from an outsider. Now, he was trying to keep personal knowledge secret from an ally. He wasn't sure which was more difficult. "And I don't expect to see him, either - he's been very busy lately, from what I hear. Perhaps he went to Oakheim - I've heard that there could still be clues to our target's whereabouts there. Andy, if you'd be so kind as to escort our gallant young ally - surely you two can put your heads together to find Eisig." He had to find the leader of the Shizen Cell before anyone else could - short of a few others, there was no one who could keep him from his obvious fate.

~-~

"Sooner was better - you were correct, Jeph." He grabbed Lyle by his hood, pulling him back before he could scurry away. "They've just led Stark away bound and trussed, ready for hanging, and our dear merchant friend is... running to find us, I'd imagine?" He smiled, a crooked grin, barely visible underneath the hem of his own hood - there would be no recognition of the man who had disarmed and disabled a paladin so easily, not from a distance. "Well then, you'll be coming with us to get him out of this little mess - clearly you couldn't rescue him yourself, but with the three of us, I don't think it will be too daunting a challenge."

"What do you say, Jeph? We can't exactly tell the paladin directly about Stark's nature to free him, not after what we did before - so do you agree that a daring escape is in order?"

[SuperFush]

Yuki

"This looks like a ni..." Yuki stared at the man in the tent restaurant. Can it be...? She hadn't seen him in years! She started to run forward, but, intending to wrap her arms around him, but instead...he stood up and drew his sword, and punched the man sitting across the table from him. The look on his face...Yuki flinched back even before he flipped the table and began laying about with his sword, fighting and struggling against the crowd that rushed in to subdue him. IT wasn't a long fight, but it was nasty. Stark fought like a man possessed. Yuki had never imagined him capable of such...anger and madness. He'd always been gentle with her, like a kind uncle. Not like that...

As the guards marched past with the subdued Stark in tow, she shrank against the wall, crouching down and covering her face, shaking. She wanted to help him, knew she should help him, but...she was afraid. And shocked to realized that it wasn't the guards she was afraid of, but Stark. She knew it was stupid. Stark would never do anything to hurt her. She swallowed heavily and, taking a tight hold of her wand, she stood up and opened her mouth to begin an incantation.

Something else happened first.

~~

Looks interesting to me.

A knife whistled through the street and buried itself hilt-deep in the eye of the guard holding Stark's sword. Before he crumpled to the ground, the sound of pounding footsteps filled the air as a tall figure leaped and bore down on the group of guards that held Stark, scattering them like pins. He dashed towards Stark's fallen sword, kicked it up, slashed through Stark's bonds and pushed the hilt into his hands. "Hey, try not to die." He then turned and, laughing, kicked a guard in the face as he began to rise to his feet.

"Come on! Worms like you couldn't give me a challenge if I was tied in a sack! Look, all I've got are knives and I'm still gonna win!"

[rn7]

"FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!" declared Fargo. Then he hit someone with his chair. The new guy. He then ran away, hoping his behind would not have a higher iron and steel count than what was normal.

[CATS]

"Andy, huh? Not much of a codename. What's your special ability? I'm Klints! It means 'rock' in some ancient language I think. Neat, huh? I'm also a superhero, in case you didn't know. I'm called 'the golden earth-sword master,' or something like that. It's kind of hard remembering it because I just started out, you know? Anyways, we should probably get going. We have to find Eisig and warn him about what's going on!" Klints said. Without sparing another word for his new companion, Klints rushed out of the bar, just in time to see some guy kill a guard and then start fighting them all at once!

"Whoa!! What's going on?! What's that guy doing?" Klints said. Everyone was too pre-occupied to answer him, what with the random guy dropping guards left and right. There had already been quite a few nearby, and now that there was yet another troublemaker--this one much more competent than the last--even more guards began to pour into the vicinity, while merchants and bystanders began to clear out as fear for their lives and more importantly, their businesses, began to overtake curiosity. The paladin now moved in to engage the newcomer, which gave Klints all the answers he needed. If a fellow superhero was attacking this man, he was obviously not a good guy!

Klints drew his sword, yelled, and waded into the fray, swinging his weapon about with reckless abandon. Half a dozen guards had to duck or dive out of the way as he made his way over to this newest attacker, at which point Klints proceeded to attempt what he envisioned to be a fancy maneuver which would easily disarm the opponent; in reality, it failed horribly, threw him off-balance, and caused him to just fall down. His target likely hadn't even noticed his approach amidst all the other opponents who could actually threaten him (or come closer to a shadow of it than Klints could, at least).

"Darn it! You're a clever one, you! But don't think you've won yet!" Klints shouted, rising to his feet for another go at the evil-doer. "Hey Andy, I could use some help here! This one's clever! Jeez, where's Fuego when you need him?"

---

"Oh, uh hey there! Why yes, of course I was coming back to find you! I was just going to find Stark first, and boy did we ever find him, eh?" Lyle said, laughing nervously as he finished speaking. Had they seen him did they see when he betrayed Stark and stole the cube did they know he had it would Stark tell them yes he would oh Lightkratos they would kill him. Lyle had to get out of here. Luckily, at that moment, some random guy decided to appear out of nowhere and start taking on the whole city at once, Lyle had no idea what the idiot was high on, but he was grateful for the existence of whatever drug it was because it meant the whole scene became even more chaotic than it was before. Maybe he would have a chance to escape! Maybe he could--oww!

"Fuck!--a chair? Who did that?!"

[rn7]

"That guy looks really serious, I don't think we should mess with him, unless we do it from a distance, with chairs," Fargo commented on the completely random knife chucker who appeared out of nowhere to save someone's day. He stood amazed at the display right in front of him. It was probably one of the things you would categorize under the label of badass, subset super. But rather, what amazed him the most was the incompetence of the paladins that guarded the place, getting handled by pretty much everyone today. Maybe it was the years of complacency and peace that got to them, made them soft and squishy. No one would hire a paladin for merchant guard duty, after all. There were plenty of mercenaries willing to stick their neck out for a few coins, and even if they did have enough money for a paladin, the knight in shining armor would refuse. Something about a moral code and honor and justice, Fargo really forgot the specifics of the whole thing. Though, maybe things weren't the same as they were a few years ago. Had the paladin order dulled, or even worse, been corrupted? A bit of a problem with solid, traditional groups like this. You can't never predict when they change.

Still an oddity, though. What could possibly prompt the centuries old order to alter itself like this? Especially one so attached to its code, stubbornly so. Being in Oakdale dulled Fargo too, apparently. He'd been out of the loop for a while. Maybe this was a good thing. It was a whole new world out there now. Familar yet new ground waiting for Fargo to plant his chair on and sit on menacingly. Exciting, and so appropriate that it started in Corthrone, the moving market.

Fargo figured he was thinking too much about everything. Thinking lead to bad things, he thought, then reconsidered, especially when he again looked at the theatrics on display in front of him. Things had a tendency to just happen, good or bad.

Fargo noticed something drop out of Mr. Caravan Guy's pocket. It was a cube, which looked oddly like the one Stark was carrying.

"Oh, hey, Mr. Caravan Guy, you dropped something. Gee, it looks just like the one Stark had! Are they selling replicas here? Oh man, I gotta get one! Say, does it look broken to you?"

[Script]

Derwood

Just as Derwood had not actually predicted, the goons of the gentleman's tent had taken out their frustration at letting Derwood get away by piling atop someone else. Derwood had a good view of the struggle as he bravely ducks behind a tent flap and stalwartly looked at the mess he hadn't caused. Derwood gasped as the fight escalated, it was that one-eyed man who had escorted Derwood's honest ass to this no-good town! If Derwood wasn't totally sure that he could do absolutely nothing to help he would have totally gone and helped! But the big man seemed to easily take care of it all on his own until he couldn't. And if he had no chance, neither did dear Derwood. Ah well,and that one guy also seemed to be damning... Stark! Yes, that was the one-eyed man's name, probably. Had Deroowd even heard that? Oh well, either way he was Stark now. So anyway, that honest friendly merchant from before had completely hung Stark out to dry for his own ends. Derwood also realized his own hearing was excellent, what with somehow knowing that over the hustle and bustle of everything.

But hey, despite that merchant man's honest assessment or something, another of that group Stark belonged to--hopefully at any rate--seemed to save him. Good for them! And more odd happenings saved Stark, yay them as well! Well, good for them, no yay. Wait, why did Derwood even care? If anything, he should be cheering for the guards and the honest merchantman, not the guys who had not believed his thrilling story about how much Derwood was an honest merchant and not a masterful scammer. But on the other hand, sucking up to the biggest scariest guys was always a safe bet!

Yes, once this little spat was all finished up, it would be childlike to walk over to them all and just so casually mention Derwood was going to help but everything had been sorted out by the time he had arrived. It was a brilliant plan and nothing--not even the fact that in reality it was a terrible plan--would convince Derwood otherwise!

[mr_e_s]

Stark

Stark wasted zero time getting to action. He grabbed his sword and worried more about the deflection of weapons then the cutting down of guards. His rage had vanished in the short walk and his survival instincts had kicked in. There was no way of winning this fight. There was no way of winning that fight in the bar either, Stark just couldn't see it at the time. He'd have had trouble fighting just the paladin, let alone with some merc black ops chick working with him. It was a different thing fighting grunts, guys who were just in it for the paycheck. But dealing with lots of people who actually know how to fight is a different story. These guys stepping up were the grunts. paladins would be smarter, making a perimeter, ensuring there'd be no escape.

Stark would deal with that when it came up, for now, not getting impaled was the main order of business, and business wasn't looking too good. It was a mess, it was hard to tell who was trying to kill him and who was just part of the scattered crowd. Stark wasn't going to take part in this fight. He saw the crazed knife-wielding guy and figured he'd thank him if it ever came up again, but probably not. This guy was likely going to die, hoping for some brave heroic fight that Stark didn't have in him. Sorry, man, but I didn't ask for you to jump in like that. Good luck.

He made his way through the crowd, a lot of the guards focusing on the brash fighter, but still a fair amount realizing where Stark was. The quarters were too tight to properly swing his sword without hitting someone not involved and running around like a chicken with their head cut off. Fun thing about a panicked crowd, they jus tmake eveything worse. Today they also happened to make it easier for Stark to keep a hard to follow pattern. He only had to fight one guy, and it wasn't o much a fight as a sword coming at him answered with an elbow to the nose. The paladin perimiter was almost all set up, but Stark managed to find a crack in it.

It was luck, nothing else. He figured his chances of actually walking out of there were in the getting hit by lightning range, but hey, he'd done that too. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he felt... really alive. He'd just walked out of an impossible situation. No severe wounds to show for it. Maybe he could help Eltiar do the same, but he'd have to find him first. No... He'd have to find Yuki first. Actually, he'd have to find Dom first, getting out of this city sooner rather then later might be a better idea.

Fuego

As Klints zoomed off Fuego very nearly threw a fireball at him, but had to stop himself and just chuckle a bit at his ridiculous partner, actually wearing golden armour. He was just so... Out there. Fuego realized very suddenly that there was a large amount of fire i the tent with him, singing the roof and a select number of wares. "Oh! uh...Sorry about that." Fuego apologized a few more times as he cooled the fire down and eventually extinguished it. The shop owner regained the ability to speak as it went out, stammering out that it was alright, but Fuego should leave, and there were much better deals to be had in other tents.

Leaving the tent, he took a look around the area and came to a sobering conclusion. Klints was gone. Again. Oh well. It wasn't such a big deal if they separated. Still, he was kind of an idiot. Fuego's demeanour returned to it's latent state of apathy as he patrolled the streets. He didn't bother asking around this time, there was no need. Klints wouldn't be too hard to find, and now that Klints knew Fuego was here, if worse came to worse, he could just throw up a flare. No, the issue now was to find Eisig. He didn't see him coming to a place like this though. In the time he'd known the leader of the Shizen cell, he'd often been away, but he doubted it was to buy baubles from some snaggle-toothed old merchant promising better wares then his compatriot five feet away. This was the door to the rest of the country. The question is, is where do you go from here?

Whistler

So me and Beaker, we head closer to the bars, we figure Tinker's the kind of guy who don't mind finding himself in a local tavern with a pint in hand, so maybe he's retired there for the evening. I wasn't holding my breath on it or nothing though, but I figured there were probably some real cuties along that way. After all, nick nacks and weapons ain't the only things fer sale in Corthrone. It's funny, I ain't touched much women since I joined up here, but I never got tired of looking at 'em. Still ain't. They're just nicer'n guys. More delicate, softer, they got a frame that just looks like it's meant to be held. And they take such good care of their hair and face and all that. Nothing like a pretty girl to perk a guy right up, so to speak.

Well, when we get there, there's a few pretty girls, but they're all crowding around watching something, I figured it was another bar fight turned to far, stepped in on by the law, and ending with at least one guy left dangling by his neck. Never fails to draw out the masses. This one seems different, like something in the air or something like that. Shut up, I'm being serious. You can just tell, this ain't your average Tuesday night hanging. And then out of nowhere this guy jumps into it, takes care of a bunch of nobody guards, and gives this guy they were hauling off his sword (big god damned sword, too). Now I'm as interested as the rest of the crowd here, but then I recognize a face I wish I didn't ever have to recognize, and I turn to Beaker.

"Uhh, Doc? It might be time to make ourselves scarce." I pointed out the guy I'm talking about, you know the guy, can't remember his name right now, actually not sure I ever knew it, but I saw him once, and the guys he was with, they're not the kind of guys I'd invite to a poker night. Oh, Dragoon? That's kind of a...I guess Whistler ain't the best name either though, right? Well anyways, I see this guy, and it comes to my attention there's probably more of em here. "Beaker, we gotta get outta here. That guy, he's from internal affairs, and there's probably more of 'em." I don't need to tell Beaker more'n that. Ain't a person I met in this Order that ain't afraid of or angry with the Internal Affairs cell. Or....Generic cell, is it? Yeah, anyways, We all know they don't mess around, and they aren't shy about forcing people into early and permanent retirement. In general, if you're not wherethey are, you're doing alright.

So i figured, let's not be where they are.

Edited September 24, 2010 by mr_e_s

[CATS]

"Yes, of course they're selling replicas! I thought I may as well get myself one, the one that Stark still has looks so very nice, you know," Lyle answered, as he dove onto the cube and jammed it back into his pocket, then got back up as if no one had seen that. Hopefully no one had, it was pretty much a clusterfuck in here, Lyle especially hoped that Dom fellow hadn't seen it, he seemed to be the one out of this lot who got shit done and kept people in line. Kind of lucky that Lyle had even managed to get his hands on the cube again before the crowd pushed him away, come to think of it. Just as he finished that thought, someone bumped into him rather rudely, causing the cube to go flying out of his pocket.

"NO!"

Lyle dove again, but a stray foot kicked the cube away as he flew towards it. Lyle's hands clasped only worthless dirt, and he got stepped on and kicked a few times before he managed to get to his feet again. The cube was nowhere to be seen; Lyle sighed. This was more in line with his usual luck. Oh well, no reason to stay around here now, and with all these paladins gathering Mattias might show up and recognize him, that was about the last thing Lyle wanted. He shoved some guy aside to make enough room for him to get back to the group.

"I don't see Stark anywhere, I'm pretty sure he got away cause of that crazy guy. We should probably do the same thing, huh? These paladins are gonna be pissed that they didn't get to hang their man, and they'll be looking for any excuse to grab a replacement out of the crowd! Oh look, I think Stark went that way!" Lyle said to everyone.

He then proceeded to run off in the direction he'd indicated, making for one of the few remaining gaps in the quickly-forming paladin wall. He didn't actually know if Stark had gone that way or not, but he wanted to get the fuck out of here, and there was no way to tell where Stark was while they were still in this humongous crowd, they would need to get away from it to have any chance of finding anyone anyways. Lyle definitely wanted to find Stark though, if only to stay with this group, since they'd proven themselves more than capable of defending him when he got into trouble. It never occurred to Lyle that he would probably lose their protection if he kept dragging them into his problems.

---

"Alright, villain, no more Mr. Nice Klints!" Klints said, picking himself up for the third time. The earth around him began to shake, but before he could bring his powers to bear against the supervillain, he heard a familiar voice at his side.

"No, cease this nonsense! Leave the city guard to deal with this menace, it is their job and they are more than capable. We have more pressing matters at hand! Remember, we must find Eltiar!"

"Oh hey, how'd you get over here so fast? Anyways, yeah, I guess you're right. Let's go, mister.....uhh what was your name?" Klints answered.

"Call me John. Come this way, please."

John led Klints over to the side, away from the big fight and all the guards. Soon enough they came to the paladin perimeter set up around the area, where the armored enforcers were randomly pulling people aside and asking them all sorts of accusatory questions. Klints didn't blame them, they had to make sure they weeded out anyone working with that villain back there. He was confident that he could pass their tests, after all, they were on the same team; but as it turned out, there was no need for him to answer any questions. When John approached the paladins, they wordlessly stepped aside to let him pass, almost as if they were scared of him. Kind of suspicious, but Klints quickly put it out of mind. The two made their way to a section of town that was a good distance away from all the commotion. Klints wondered what had happened to that guy with the terrible codename, Anda or whatever it was.

"Ok, what now?" Klints asked.

"I hope that the Tinker was able to provide you with information on Eltiar's whereabouts?"

"Oh, uh, no. Sorry. He didn't know anything," Klints answered.

"I see. Unfortunate. Well, our next option is rather straightforward, and will hopefully allow us to locate Eltiar if he is anywhere on this side of Corthrone. I trust that your cell has worked out distress signals of some sort--a manner in which to alert each other if one of you is in danger?"

"Totally! If I'm in trouble, I'm supposed to just send a lot of dirt up into the air. Then someone like Eisig could see it and come help me out."

"Perfect. Let's try that; perhaps Eltiar will come to assist his comrade if he sees the distress signal."

"Ok, cool. So what happens if he shows up?"

"I am going to step aside once more after you do this. If Eltiar appears, do try and lead him to a location outside of Corthrone, at which point I will reveal myself once more and meet with him. Again, I do not want to be seen associating with Eltiar in such a crowded location. It would not be safe for us. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I got it."

"Excellent. Oh, and please try not to get distracted again. Remember, this is of the utmost importance."

"Alright! Let's do this!"

Klints aimed a hand at the sky; the soil around him rumbled, then burst away from the earth and soared upwards. The shower of dirt was visible from most parts of the city, causing some of the population to stop and wonder at it for a second before they returned to their business, but only for a second; the moving market generally waited for nothing, no matter how curious the incident might be. Afterwards, as Klints shook the dirt out of his hat, he looked around for John; but the small man had already disappeared again. Klints was left wondering how he did that. In the meantime, hopefully Eisig would show up, or maybe even Fuego! Klints wasn't really sure why he was trying to find Eisig, but he remembered that it was supposed to be pretty important.

[lunarAegis]

Jeph.

Looks like everything's going to hell in a hand-basket again. Why is this becoming normalcy? Either way, Dom was now dealing with their happy troupe's resident mother-fucker. He sure hoped he died soon, would make everything easier.

"Dom, I'm going to go look for Stark. Rendezvous back at the cart in 10 minutes, I think. Punch Lyle's teeth in for me, would ya?"

And with that, Jeph skulked out into the crowd. If he were Stark, where would he be? Well, first priority would be breaching the perimeter of Paladins, followed by presumably one of two things. Either he'd try to resume what it was got him in such a mess in the first place, or try to distance himself from the situation. Since Jeph had no idea what Stark did, seemed like he only had one path to act on. Stark, presumably, wouldn't just ditch everyone, so he'd go looking for the cart. He knew the cart was last at our old location, so that would be the first place he'd look. Unfortunately for Jeph, that was a place he was trying to avoid, though he's not sure how guarded it would be given the situation that Stark had gotten himself in to. One way to find out, then?

Jeph slipped through one of the gaps in the ring and made his way back to the previous location of the cart. The streets were getting sparser and sparser as he went, presumably because people knew now would be a pretty terrible time to go for an evening stroll. Fouled up executions have a way of putting a dampener on an evening. He approached his intended location and heard two semi-familiar voices. He stowed himself behind a tent and sneaked himself a look-see.

There were two men dressed in drab brown cloaks with builds that pretty much guaranteed they were wearing armour underneath their robes. Neither of them wore helmets, so Jeph could see their faces clearly. Neither of them looked familiar, though their was one thing about the smaller of the two men that revealed his identity. His nose looked broken and bloodied.

"Sir, we shouldn't be out here..."

"We're off duty, we can do what we want. Are you going against the order?"

"No, sir... I'd never go against the order!"

"Good to hear it, now help me figure out where- wait... we're being watched."

Jeph tucked his head behind the tent and held his breath, hoping to hear more of their conversation before he would have to reveal himself and escape. Unfortunately, there would be no more words. A sword plunged through the fabric of the tent beside Jeph. This caused Jeph to determine that now would be a good time to get out of here, and such he bolted out into the street. In the street, his face quickly made friends with a hard metal elbow.

"That's for my face, ass-hole."

Jeph lay splayed out on the ground, and warm blood ran down his face from his nose. Perhaps now would be a good time to fight back instead of trying to run? His hand shot to his sword and whipped it from its sheath. He used the sword to keep the broken-nosed paladin at bay as he stood. The larger paladin walked out of the tent through which he tried to stab Jeph and stood beside his subordinate. They nodded at each other and began advancing on Jeph with swords drawn. This was not going to be fun. Not at all.

[CATS]

Lyle managed to slip through the paladins' defenses, one of only a small number of people to do so. He thought the rest of his buddies had made it through as well, but it was hard to be sure. He looked around at the others who had escaped; sure enough, he recognized one of the guys among them, the alcoholic guy that had given him the mead. His name was Jake or something? Lyle wasn't sure. Oh well, would be good enough to follow him for now, Lyle would rather be with someone since it was so damn easy to get lost in this stupid moving city. Lyle followed Jake for a bit. He was just about to run up and make his presence known when Jake suddenly stopped and hid. The reason why was fairly obvious; with Mattias for a cousin, Lyle could spot off-duty paladins from a mile away.

Fortunately for Lyle, the paladins noticed Jake, and not him. Lyle winced as Jake took an elbow to the face. His first instinct was to turn and run; he was still a good distance away, and could easily escape. When he tried to run, though, he found himself hesitating. The image of that poor guy on the ground, two paladins advancing on him, brought up strong feelings of empathy. Lyle had been beaten, bullied, almost killed, and generally terrorized by paladins for almost his entire life; the only reason they had never killed him was his cousin, but Mattias had explicitly said many times that he only allowed Lyle to live because it was so much fun to pound on him. Lyle found that years upon years of pent-up resentment and hatred were boiling to the surface; now he was watching these assholes bully one of his comrades, a member of a group that had saved him from them at least once already.

Had the paladins been aware of him, Lyle surely would've been a coward, but it's easy to be brave when you're facing the enemy's back. Lyle pulled out his rusty shank and started running; as he approached the paladins, he screamed and flew at the smaller one's back. He grabbed onto the man's pauldron with one hand and jammed the shank into the gap between his helmet and body armor, feeling the rusty metal dig into the base of the man's spinal cord. The paladin only had time to let out a quick yelp before he collapsed lifelessly; Lyle rode the body to the ground, still screaming and plunging the shank into his victim over and over, imagining that the body was his cousin.

"Howard, no! Blackheart!" the other paladin shouted. He rammed his bastard sword through Lyle's stomach, then yanked the weapon out and smoothly beheaded the rat-man. Lyle's head separated from his hood to land some distance away, rat-face finally exposed.

[SuperFush]

The man who had come to Stark's welcome, once Stark had successfully removed himself from danger, smirked. He parried a slash and, smiling, dashed away, pausing only to turn back and taunt his pursuers. "You provided at least a momentary distraction, so I shall commend you for that! However, you aren't worthy of being more! Farewell, foolish knights!" He grabbed hold of a tent's cloth and swung himself up, deftly running across the taut canvas rooftops of the canvas city. Before long, he had completely vanished from sight.

~~

Yuki

So much had happened, and so quickly...Yuki's head was spinning, and she felt sick. She found herself completely paralyzed by the horror of real combat. She could still smell the blood. Squeezing her eyes shut, she swallowed hard and stood up, knuckles white around her wand. She'd seen Stark run off, and she was sure that he would still need help.

"Darrian! We have to go help him! Come on!"

She ran down the alley that the swordsman had disappeared down.

[Purg]

Find Lyle? That was unlikely, in this crowd. What was likely, though, was getting hemmed in by the paladins. They were pulling people aside, asking them if they were involved with anything that had just occurred - with his face likely known to some of them, and a paladin's sword strapped to his belt, he was unlikely to be let through the ring any normal way. Luckily for him, Dom was good at thinking outside the box. He scanned the ring quickly, ducking behind stands and tents when he thought he would be seen for interrogation - and saw his opportunity. A sturdy stall was against the edge of the ring, and it was a clear path to it. He smiled again - for all the danger he was involved in, he was unnaturally happy about it - and broke into a sprint, jumping over broken carts and diving around people trying to walk across the street. An armored man saw him as he ran past him, and shouted for him to stop - Dom was deaf the world, though, even went so far as to push a merchant's wares behind him as the distance between him and his target closed. Finally, he reached the stall, leapt onto the counter, onto the top shelf, and out of the ring of paladins.

As soon as he caught his feet, he kept running. Lyle was likely long gone, with what could be the cube - he wondered what he would tell Stark if, no, when, he found him. There was nothing else he could think of doing right now - so he would just have to help with the search for Stark. It would be faster, after all, if there were more people looking for him. He didn't have a clue where to look, though - Jeph would likely have gone to the old spot the caravan was, so he supposed he should just return to the cart. There was no special way to find the swordsman, unfortunately, so he would just have to hope for luck.

He was fortunate, then, because he had already been lucky thus far today. He hoped it would hold out.

~-~

He hated this city. Really, he hated all cities, just in general, but the amount of thriving life in this particular one was just nauseating. His skin crawled as he brushed through the crowd, glad to have his cloak to protect him from their disgusting touches. Merchants seemed to ignore him, perhaps sensing the well of hate from deep inside the core of his being. There really was no way to aptly describe how much he hated humans, and order, and paladins - oh, how he loathed paladins! - but he was here for a reason. The cube was here, he just knew it, and there was a chance of treachery against the organization, as well - things that a member of internal affairs was almost compelled to act upon.

His two comrades were here as well - he had already seen the mage, and had heard that the bloodthirsty one was in the area as well - it was doubtless that they had heard the news as well, and were likely acting on it. Still, after Shu's attempt at escape, he was a bit more paranoid at the nature of those he worked with. He hadn't quite understood why the Jester thought he could escape - especially not when he was in the cell responsible to hunt down those who tried to flee - but was unsurprised when he heard he had been slain so soon after his flight. Morgen had heard that the mage was looking for a replacement for Shu already - clearly, there was no lost love for the fool.

A man bumped into him, and had already vanished into the crowd before Morgen could react. It was all he could do to not leap into a murderous spree, slicing the innocents and merchants to bloody bits.

He really did hate this city.

[mr_e_s]

Stark

Lightkratos...What the hell was this shit? Where was the cart? Well, he couldn't be absolutely sure this was the same area, none of the stores looked the same... No, wait, there was the tree they left it by. Was it stolen? did they leave without him? What the hell? Stark grew more and more frustrated with each passing second. Life had been taking a huge shit on him lately, why would he expect any different from his traveling mates? Just...damnit!

He looked around, there was no signs of any kind of signal left for him or anything. He was alone again. He just couldn't hold it in any more. "What the fuck, life? Why is it everywhere I go things turn to shit? Oakheim burnt to the ground, I got electrocuted almost to death in Alabaste, and I was on my way to the gallows here! What's next? Someone going to push me off a cliff in Highrise?!" Stark was shouting upwards, not at anyone in particular, that didn't mean he didn't attract any attention though. He was getting odd looks from all around his general area, the area the cart should have been. He started off not caring, but remembered what happened last time he hadn't cared. He figured it would be best to moe on, maybe find his own way out of the city, maybe a freshly arrived caravn he could sign on with and ship out on. Or one just leaving, too entrenched in their business to hear about the foiled attempt at a hanging.

A few more half-assed plans of escape formed over the next little while as Stark hurriedly purchased a cloak loose enough he could fit his sword under it. He tossed the merchant a few extra coins with the intent of buying his silence should the questions ever arise about a one eyed man with a broadsword. Stark stood out for that, even in Corthrone.

[Script]

Derwood

Derwood's brilliant--and not idiotic in the least!--plan of mooching up to whoever won the brawl went up in smoke as people ran splintered and vanished from Derwood's extra-amazing sight. How dare they not be considerate of someone they didn't know was watching! Derwood would totally give them a lashing in his mind later. For now though, escaping the very burly and shiny men after the only people that Derwood actually knew seemed a good idea. But a lot of things that seemed a good idea never worked out in practice, and the first step out of his tent and Derwood unexpectedly collide with one of those roving thugs.

"Huh?" the big man said as he turned around.

Derwood squeaked like a mouse and ran away. That was one thing Derwood was sure he had on any man here. Being too damn fast to catch!

"Hey! It's one of them!"

How dare they affiliate Derwood with a group he was affiliated with! How the hell would they even know? Hell, maybe he was just guessing, trying to catch someoe who somehow annoyed him or secure a promotion or some such nonsense.

Derwood was just plain fast though, and made it back to where the cart that had brought them all here was. Well, where it was supposed to be anyway.

"Where the hell is the cart argh hatethiscity!" yelled in one giant breath. Now how was he supposed to not sneak out of the city! Well, he could always just hop the walls. But it was scary outside! And Derwood would probably have to drop the few coins he had scavenged up--alng wit the only items that would be of use in the outside world--to get the necessary jump height to make it. So, that left Derwood with the plan of just hanging on the underside of some traveling caravan wagon and hoping the guards or patrols didn't think to look underneath. A brilliant one-of-a-kind plan that was sure to succeed like all of Derwood's ventures! First though, he would need to find one of those without alerting the guard guys that were obviously looking for him. Which meant he either had to evade patrols and the like, or just get the alert called off. Both were bad ideas, so Derwood just decided to go hide near an exit and wait it all out. Maybe see someone he recognized and cash them in to the guards for the bounty that would obviously be on their heads.

Derwood began running off through the tent city again.

[rn7]

"Tensions rise amoung ethnic factions in Highrise and Keeparch. Hierarch of Keeparch claims Highrise's mayor is 'an illiterate heretic who has only thoroughly read five of the seven great scriptures, and just skimmed the rest'. Mayor of Highrise counters, 'You didn't 100% genuinely mean it when you said excuse me last week'. Several attempts at a peacekeeping meeting have..." Free put down the newspaper he was reading, not too entirely sure of its truthfulness, but doubtless it was an indicator of the situation down there. Something he wished a bit to avoid, being caught in a conflict like that. Then again, no one would go looking there, so maybe it was a good spot to tour.

...wait, what was that, Tim? Seekers, here? My, that Episiggurd issue is getting out of hand! I wish someone would find him already, so we can get past this nonsense. You are right though, we should displace ourselves from this current location. I need not be interviewed and inquired about my progress-- science is not about deadlines, but about careful observation!"

The big question on his mind was what the next course of action was. Besides grab back his illegal substance, Free had not done too much in the city. Which reminded him-- the time lapse for the poison would probably end right about now, taking a dozen or so inmates, as well as anyone sickly enough that had drank the water. He was more disappointed that he would have to find a new lackey to fetch him his goods now. The last one was reliable and timely, but made a mistake when it counted most. Of course, he knew the consequences of the job when he took it. Being arrested in Corthone was much safer than being arrested elsewhere, at least for this offense.

There was no luck in finding the big hunk Andy nor the gadget geek Drin, oddly enough. One might think it easy to find such a big guy with strikingly metal joints, but apparently the tents made for better cover than anything else. At least, Free thought. The very presence of internal affairs meant every single action they did could be potentially under their view and jurisdiction. A really nerving thought for Free, who often enjoyed the peace and quiet of doing science by his lonesome.

"I don't think we should waste any more time in this city, Tim," Free started. "Say, do you enjoy warfare, the clash of steel and human spirit? Maybe we should make a visit to the Highrise and Keeparch region, I have been passed along information that suggests they are soon to have quite an... event."