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Shattered Honour Chapter Four (Infiltration route)


Parrhesia
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No one knocked me out, guess I'd better try harder. "W-Well, maybe you'll like this." He attempted to stand, legs shaking a bit. "Someone should probably head back to tell Randel what's going on, I mean, we've obviously failed to kill you because of how incompetent our assassins are. Maybe give him a heads up, because, you seem like the kind of man that enjoys a good war. What's the fun in him not knowing you're going to be bearing down on his walls sometime soon? How about you let me go, and have some good fun killing all of these fools, since I obviously can't be of much entertainment anymore. I-I head back to Randel, tell him what's up, you conquer us and then maybe I'll even live to have that chance at your daughter. Eh? Ehhhh?"

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So they could just leave, then? Just like that? “Brother, I think we should go.”

“Yeah…. Come on,” Airik replied. He had no idea what the mob of miscreants would do to him, but he walked with a confidence that he didn’t feel and made for the exit. Susan followed close behind. Fuck these guys, this job wasn’t worth getting killed over. "Hey, Jordan. I can patch up your hand outside."

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"Thank you, Airik," he managed to whinge as he followed them out, "I'm starting to get feeling back in my right hand and I promise you that it's not pleasant." His voice ended on a bit of a squeak as another wave of pain flowed through his hand.

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There's no violent response as you walk, limping and without pride, out of the house, laughter ringing in your ears.

It's six days march back to Cyra. On the second, you discover Colt had slit his wrists and bled out during the night. He hadn't said a word since leaving Carona.

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They had made camp, but things still weren't pretty. Jordan's hands were still mangled, enough that it would probably be weeks before he even held his precious crossbow again. Airik had done his best, but steel boots were still steel boots, and they had done their damage. Colt had offed himself, something that Jordan wasn't too impressed by. You fail once, you kill yourself? Some great assassin you were. "So..." with everyone sitting around, he wanted to talk to at least one other person. "How is everyone holding up?"

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Jacob, sitting nearby, remains silent for a moment. After a moment, he turns to Jordan, and speaks in a weary voice.

"We all made it out alive. That's the best we can hope for, in a situation like that."

He sighs, and then makes a noise that almost sounds like a laugh.

"I was completely certain they were going to cut off your head for a while there. Not very good at shutting up, are you? Not like I'm any better."

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"I guess, if you're going to die, you may as well go out as yourself."

Jacob stares at Jordan's hands.

"How are your wounds? I figure you won't be able to fight for a while, obviously, but..."

He trails off, as if unable to finish the sentence.

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"It was fun. I even got Strachan to say he likes me, that was fun. Doubt he was being serious but no matter." He looked down at his hands and cringed when Jacob asked his question. "I can't really move my fingers without them hurting. Probably a bunch of broken nails. Wonder if I'll be able to fire a crossbow properly again." The realization stung, but there was only so much medicine could do. "And... we didn't all make it. Fucking Colt..."

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"Yeah, maybe that situation would've went over better if we had a halfway careful assassin joining us. That man was too cocky for his profession... Guess he got what was coming to him." Jordan didn't have much respect for the man.

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Jacob goes silent for a few minutes.

"I've been thinking. When we get to Cyra, if they don't try to kill us or lock us up, that is, and we end up leaving again, you should stay there and recover, at least for a week or two. You can't easily defend yourself like this, as I'm sure you know, and there's no point in dying because of a few broken bones."

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"Don't look so down. Even if we leave, we'll definitely come back for you. And with how badly we screwed this up, they may not even want us to go anywhere else for them! Besides, I'm sure a lot of us would rather hang around there, rather than go on another suicide mission. It'll be fine, because we're still alive, and we're all still in this together. Got that?"

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"I know, I know, not worried about that. Just... sort of forgot what it'll be like to live without worrying about dying every few minutes. It might be refreshing. But, yeah, thanks." He smiled a little, taking the moment to sigh.

[spoiler=OoC]Wooooo this means I get to make another characterrrr for a whillllle

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Jacob closes his eyes.

"Hah... You weren't even thinking about that stuff, and I still got all serious. See what I mean? Not good at shutting up. Not at all."

He grins.

"Well, as long as it's not bothering you, forget I said anything about it."

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"You just care, no worries." He glanced around at everyone else in the group, wondering how they were feeling. Perhaps this really isn't the best time to chat. I imagine most everyone is too tense for conversation.

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It turned out that their mission had been a failure. They had managed to survive, which was good enough. This was the second time Tordel thought he would have died, something he didn't want to experience again. Was it really worth continuing with these guys? He wasn't making that much money, and it was one blunder after the other. His old life as a farmer seemed much more appealing.

"We need to be more careful in the choices we make. I don't like the risks we're taking."

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Airik and Susan were both awake, but neither felt inclined to talk. It was a miracle they escaped with their lives and they were seriously questioning why they were still here. Airik was worrying that this lord Randel person might decide to punish the two of them as well, and Susan was mentally punching herself for wanting to come out here in the first place. Possibly the only thing keeping them here was that there might still be some payment coming, but that was unlikely.

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