Closed [Various] Boxes and chains

[Fallon]

Teeth gritted, a whistling exhale as she watched the ungrateful merchant get ready to retaliate back. Shoulders rolled, chin lifted as she looked down the bridge of her nose. The low rumbling of a growl escaped, a firm step forward as she readied herself to square up against him. For a moment she held it, feet locking onto the floor an almost wince as her jaw begun to ache. She really did not have time for this. So with a steely expression she gave a nod forwards, ”Come on, lead us. After all, you’ve designated the route.” She paused for a moment, ”Or did you want me to lead now?”

Somewhere behind the whimpering cripple was hauled up to his feet, a firm glance back. Control, bring together, and take control. Just like she had to with the Scars. Keep the heads together and the aim on the prize. So, the one who hired them was an incompetent coward, and the brother was the same. The male mercenary was just a rough brute by the looks of things, and as for Kaie? Well she certainly was quick to smother herself in blood. Her gaze snapped back round to the chained brother, a firm step forward and the point forward with the left hand. Only a growl and a wolfish smile escaped, ”Move.”

He became animated after that, a dragging up of the chest and a forced march forward. She did not comment to his string of curses as he marched away, taking up role of appointed leader once more. There was a quicker pace than before, eyes darting about as they continued on their way. Fingers gripped around the blade hilts, a tight hold on the hilt of the kukri. They needed to get out here and into the open. More space, more movement opportunities, and they would not be penned in like animals that way. And it was with that impending sense of closure and claustrophobia lifted the moment the alley funnelled out into the open street.

Once more taking to the back of the group, the crippled brother hobbling forward at a hurried speed. Eyes looked forward, the once scowl easing off as she stepped onwards. There was a firm pivot, a scan of her surroundings as the kept her guard up. She could not help but flinch when the Myrian spoke, head cocking round to stare intently. It took a moment to register the question, and another to formulate an answer within her mind.

”The Hound is a myth,” she returned her attention ahead, ”A rumour. Do you really believe a rumour could suddenly spring into animation?” Shaking her head she gave a firm step, a clink of steel as she caught the uneasy look of locals – no doubt due to the ogling of Kaie and the blood. Fallon snorted, ”Besides, on the chance he was real, why would a man who has ties to the butchering of Daggerhands and bringing change to Sunberth suddenly become an opportunist? Doesn’t make sense in my head.” That was a point, the chest and its mysterious contents. Maybe it was the way they moved as a group, the subtle clink that lured people in to stare. Even the way he seemed to cradle it so closely to his chest with the eyes darting about almost fervently as they walked. It made her skin prickle with suspicion.

”Don’t like this. Don’t like this one bit,” she gave only the glance back to the Myrian, her brow having met together into a frown, ”You ever get that feeling when everything doesn’t seem quite right? Or something more than meets the eye?” Lip twitched, her hand shook the thought away, ”Petch it, turning into one of those shykers.”

[Kaie]

The standoff between leading mercenary and arrogant employer didn't last long. Of that much the Myrian was grateful. The more time they remained among the corpses and lingering scent of decay, the tighter the alley seemed to constict them. Buildings wrapped their wooden splinters about the disorganized procession's throat, squeezing, choking until even Kaie could feel a foreign sense of paranoia creeping into her conscious mind like a hazy veil the longer they waited. The bright amber of her eyes flickered about the shadows. Despite its ill use in their current predicament, her hand was once again on the handle of her gladius. Whether it was habit or comfort she did not know. It hardly mattered. They just needed to get their haul their chain-rattling asses out of the space that they turned into a tomb.

Once the group was back on the move the Falyndar savage was quick at their heels. They weaved their way past the bodies and toward the broader light ahead that signaled a way back into the streets. Each step felt like one toward salvation. A world where her father's sword would once again prove a useful tool in combat, rather than a burden. Even so, all roads had their perils. No one needed to grow up within the jungle to understand that much. It was only a mere trade of threats, but once Kaie was happy to go along with even if her knowledge of the streets of Sunberth left something to be desired. Besides, her curiosity over the outcry of a "Hound" had left her partially distracted. The tone of recognizable fear in their companion's voice was not one easily shaken.


A myth and a rumor, She thought carefully, considering the weight of Bitzer's words and the unfailing logic laced within them. Legends of bloodthirsty beasts outside Taloba could shake even the bravest warrior toward wariness the next time he exits the gates. If unconfirmed tales can shake a Myrian now and again, why not the deyhan? The feeling of eyes upon her was not something she was unaccustomed to. In Sunberth any outsider was regarded with distrust and animosity. Being a devout member of a race renown for cannibalism, belligerence, and savagery only magnified their scrutiny over her. She cleared her throat and focused on her task as well as the conversation at hand.

"I guess that would be out of character for that sort of figure," Kaie allowed with a subtle incline of her head. A glance was given toward her unprotected flank and for a tick she considered inquiring what exactly Daggerhands were. Perhaps it would be a subject better left neglected for the time being.

A man with olive skin and facial hair sprouting unevenly about his jawline offered the Myrian a hard glare of unbridled hatred. Her lip curled in disgust and they locked hostile stares until they had walked past one another. Had she been on her own the man might've been a bit more bold. Pride made the copper skinned woman wish he had. It would do her no good in the end. She could bloody her fists and divide bodies with steel until the end of her days, and still they would show her that same accusing look upon their faces. Dwelling on a reality she had come to know far too well would benefit neither the savage nor the job. Instead she resolved to watch their backs and guard their flank once more.

Bitzer's nervous utterances were met by a curious glance from the Myrian. She peered casually over her shoulder, and then scanned the faced that approached from her open side. Suddenly she was very aware of the dragging of the chain as they walked. She rolled her shoulders back and watched the cripple hobble painfully ahead. "If you mean the feeling a hare might get just before they trip a snare, you might be onto something." Her voice was low and the Common was saturated in the brutal accent native to her own language, but the uneasiness there was palpable after the other woman mercenary voiced her own misgivings. "Wish he'd get rid of the Goddess damned, rattling chain," Kaie growled quietly, glaring at the links where they tended to rattle among each other. "Thought the bastard was after a low profile."

[Fallon]

"Hare before a trap, a mouse before it's pounced," she gave a mutter "I'd like to know who's idea it was to wear that bloody chain." It would be safe to say that Fallon's patience was beginning to wear thin with this job. Her brow had creased into a large line, her lips pursing as she stepped - eyes constantly darting back and forth between the faces. Always watching and always waiting. Sunberth's healthy paranoia had finally begun it's rubbing onto, or perhaps it was the trembling of nerves from their previous escapades that spurred such a reaction. Was it understandable to have her guard up in such a fashion?

The stench of the city hit her, the dulled monotone hues barely being registered as she remained in the guarded sense of mind. The chain, the clink of steel on steel, the questioning gaze from the locals who passed by. Kaie was right in that regard - it most certainly was not low profile let alone subtle. Bees to honey came to her mind, and already she could feel the stare of opportunist weighing themselves up. One or two may have been fine to deal with, but this was the open with the local Sunberth mob ready to rear its head and seize the moment. Her fingers tightened around the hilt of the tulwars, a faint crack of knuckles as she kept the guard up. If not just in the physical then also the mental - it was perhaps fortunate that Kaie had decided to accept her words for the moment.

Of course, even she could feel the urge to ask questions - or perhaps that was the reflection of herself and what she would of done. There was a lingering pair by the mouth of a smaller street, eyes following the group but not moving yet. Eyes burned back, her jaw tightening as she looked in challenge to them, but the gaze was not met. No, they were too fixed on something else. The chest, the man who was attached to it? Eyes followed it, her head looking upon the people they were with. The Myrian was given only a glance, foreign as she was there was a distinct clink of surfaces striking, the other mercenary gave only a glance back - wary as well as searching. And with that, her eyes fell upon the cripple.

Fallon's lip twitched, her eyes drifting up and down. Eyes, attraction, the people who were watching and waiting. Her eyes looked back, the shifting of forms and faces, the quick steps here and there as some faces slipped in and out of sight. They returned to the cripple, watching his chin rise and the stare ahead - odd almost. It was as if there had been some misplaced faith that everything would work out alright. Over confidence sprung to mind, and it was certainly a different shade to what was seen before. Looking to Kaie, she gave only a frown as if it would communicate her thoughts - not that it really did outside of the low, thoughtful hum. She was missing something, she knew that. But it was working out what exactly that annoyed her.

"So, we have three mercenaries, a skittish chainer and a crippled brother who seems to swing back and forth between fear and confidence," She mumbled and looked about herself, catching a glimpse of the towering, abandoned temple of the unknown. There was only a further frown as she passed by it, distracted momentarily by its rather bleak form - a different sort in comparison to the rest of the city. Chewing her lip she gave a pivot, eyes taking in the paused steps of those who were following behind, a low snort in reciprocation before she turned her attention forward once more, "We have people stepping in our shadows, and eyes attracted to us because of some lovely tune... that's a point." Speaking up Fallon addressed the merchant at the front who seemed to be leading the way, "Tell me? Who's idea was it to attach yourself to that?"

"Who's? The brother's idea. He's got a lot of brains, said it was a good way to make security," he responded after a few moments of pause and continued to lead onwards. But it was only Fallon's lip that turned into a curl, her eyes swinging to and fro in rhythm as if this entire job had turned into some kind of deadly game. The stage was set, the movements in place and it would require careful analysis. She caught the glance back of the crippled brother, the curling of the lips and the look of something rather smug. Behind her she could hear the quickening pace of steps, it could be a runner, or it could be something dangerous. There was a gentle tug at the sword hilt, her eyes flickering to the Myrian briefly, "So, what do you think? How does your mind work it? Also count to three and brace, we might have company."

[Kaie]

Hare before a trap, a mouse before it's pounced, Kaie mused silently, a grin tugging at her stony facade in light of their exchange of poetic metaphors. At least she hadn't been the only one to clearly see the idiocy before them. She groaned inaudibly when her gaze had once more found itself latched to the swinging, singing chain. There was a nervous swagger about the man. A false confidence permeated his vicinity with a potency to draw onlookers in rather than out. Like hounds the denizens had caught the scent of hidden fears and doubts, and began to patiently ghost from one street corner to another in the chest's wake. She swore she could almost feel the desire trailing behind her step. Surely their greedy fingers were starting to itch something awful out there in the shadows. It would be only a matter of time before some brave (or foolish) soul tested their mettle.

Kaie squinted up at the sun. When they'd first started, Syna had just barely danced across the decrepit city. Her steady climb closer toward her high point was a testament to their travels, and with her came the warmth. It kissed her bronzed skin with gentle rays and rebounded from the dull metal of her sword's scabbard. It was still early in spring, and though the temperature was far from summer's blistering heat, the light sensation was a welcome one. Odd how one finds relief in the most insignificant things, She thought with a slow shake of her head. Then again maybe we're more inclined to become acutely aware of the smaller, more pleasant details when there's a pack of starving wolves circling. Little calms before the storm.

A little blonde boy no older than twelve dashed through the crowd and wavering at their perimeter. His wide blue eyes stared at the clinking chain links. He teetered from side to side as if trying to get a better look, and then ventured around their rear. The Myrian watched his antics warily, but the boy was clever enough to always maintain a safe distance from their closely guarded perimeter. He looped about them twice, giggling all the while with straw hair bouncing, always appearing from the crowd when Kaie had believed him finally gone. Once she had glimpsed him bobbling between pedestrians and back toward an alleyway. After that he had disappeared and she was lift to shift her eyes warily once more.

Fallon was putting the pieces together at about the same rate the Myrian was. Their were vulnerable with clear weaknesses. They were obvious in their presence. Their greatest sin might've been their inability to truly project an intimidating, imposing aura that commanded a mutual respect with the rest of the public. Their little procession was nothing more than a ripe fruit hanging from a low branch. All the people had to do was reach, and when they did, how many hands would they actually be able to put to the sword? Sadly, the merchants didn't prove to be much brighter. They were as dull as river stones and their naivety was going to get them all killed. The man can hardly keep up and now apparently there's nothing of weight inside his skull. I'll bet we find his corpse looted and slumped against some corner before fall. Good way to make security... When it came time to share her own thought process, Kaie needed no more than a few ticks to get herself in order.

"I'm surprised no one's challenged us yet to be honest," She muttered grimly, shooting an especially vicious glare at one man in particular. His mouth smirked around the cigar between his lips but he made no move from his wall. She exhaled deeply and slowly began to loosen the gladius from its hold. Already her mind had started to concentrate on the unknown threat Fallon had pointed out at their back. "We're predictable. Our weaknesses are on display. If a good number band together, we're petched." Kaie felt her body tense and took another deep breath. The coal center of her eyes hardened, and though her sight was directed ahead, her focus was in the opposite direction. Her jaw clenched and her hand tightened around her weapon's handle.

One...Two...


OOC:Sorry for the delay on this one!

[Fallon]

"Three!"

Fingers tightened around the hilt of the tulwar, the grind of steel as it begun it draw out from its sheath. Behind her she could feel the shadows upon her back, the loud and definite crunch of a footfall upon the earth. She watched the other mercenary glance back only briefly, checking the rear to see if there was any trouble. That flicker of alarm told her all she needed to know, the way the jaw seemed to grow slack and the hand shot towards his own weapon. He could barely shout out a warning to the oncoming approach.

Feet dug in, her knees bending to brace for an oncoming impact. Metal was freed in an instant, the keen, curved edge whipping round in retaliation. Somewhere beyond the surrounding passersby gave a sharp inhale of surprise - their forms stepping away as the breaking loose of chaos insured. There was an outcry, the breaking part of bodies as they looked to escape what was unfolding from the scene. Whatever came behind them called for blood and violence, a wave of combat looking to crash against their forms. Her form begun to twist, the withdrawing of the blade as she turned to face the oncoming storm. She took the scene in her mind, watching the blur in of the attackers closing in with their distorted faces looking to the opportunity. And all the while, the little blonde boy stood at the mouth of the alley with his hand pointed at them.

Part of her wondered how long this had been planned. Had it simply been a spare of the moment attack, or was it something much more planned out and waited on? Regardless, now was not the best time to think about it. They had to move, to fight or else it was simply to lay down and die. There was a press of the form into her, the full on, weighted barge taking her straight off her feet and onto the hard street below. A mighty crash, she felt the hand press against the side of her head and subsequently pressed her cheek onto the cold surface. The armed arm rebelled, the sound of dragging metal against stone as she focused on ripping the blade upwards.

She heard the shout of the merchant, and then watched the crippled brother clatter to the floor with his eyes staring up at whoever was above him. She was unsure on whether he looked petrified and had simply frozen in fear for a moment, and it was as one of the attackers hovered over him. Her other hand pressed against the ground, legs bending as she focused on trying to push herself up fight. Teeth gritted as she felt the bludgeon against her, a firm arch back and round as she focused on getting free. Once she was up, she could fight back and get rid of the one who had focused the attention onto the brother. The merchant gave a scream, the other mercenary stepping in between to drive off the closing in challengers.

"Petch!" came the curse of the one who had pinned her, as the tulwar slashed into the side. Fallon rolled at that point, a full force of weight and strength to flip the scenario over. The free fist came out then to batter against, a weak back hand around the face as she felt the hurts make themselves known. Whatever Kaie was doing was beyond her right now, she had to deal with what was before her as a priority. Her left eye narrowed, wincing as she felt the aches claw their way up. Her boot pressed against the attacker's chest, her eyes looking up to see the others moving towards the merchant and leaving the brother frozen upon the floor. Scrabbling up, her grip tightened around the hilt of the blade as she went to make a dash to intervene.

A hand grasped her tightly around the ankle, another waving a dagger at her momentarily exposed back. She felt the intention to floor her once more, and it was with a snap of an order that she gave a shout, "Kaie! Get to the chainer! Get the bastard out of here! Now!"

[Kaie]

"Three!

The Myrian's step turned into a hard pivot, and as her body twisted backward to face the fray, her gladius shrieked its freedom into the open air. She could practically feel them falling upon her even before her head swiveled to assess the danger. Their voices were loud in her ears, their steps thunderous with purpose and malicious intent. The Goddess Queen's blessing raged like a fire upon her flesh. A new flush of adrenaline rafted through her veins, dilating the coal black centers of her eyes. Every fiber, every working tissue within her body felt alive. Like a switch, her senses were silenced and something far more primitive rubbed its weary eyes and roused to consciousness. The skin of conformity she wore was shed and something else revealed itself. The transformation was momentary, and by the time she had finally turned to acquire her first target, it was complete.

He wasn't much older than she was. A man nineteen or twenty years old, with a mop of brown hair and a loose grubby shirt stained at the collar. There was a familiar hunger in his eyes. A rusty stone that she supposed must've come from a nearby crumbling building was clutched between his curled fingers. He was the closest to their perimeter, and the apparent leader of the charge on the rear flank she was elected to defend. Thus, when she completed her pivot and planted her left foot outward, it was him that faced her follow through roundhouse. Her right shin struck soundly against the side of his left knee. The man dropped onto all fours with a sharp cry of surprise. The rock tumbled from his grasp into the mess of feet. Vulnerable and without even his improvised weapon, there was little he could do to ward off the killing blow. The gladius came down overhead more like an ax than a sword upon his upper back. He collapsed under the budding stampede of following feet in a bloody heap. There was no time to spare to finish the job and offer him a clean end.

The horde pushed again her. Each body shoved against the other all in hopes of breaking them down and rushing the chest. Not a tick after slashing violently through the first man, her free forearm was raised in hopes of holding the wave back. Her teeth gnashed together as she struggled against them. A woman barred against her leading arm bit down upon her flesh, and an outcry from the savage followed. She jerked her sword arm awkwardly back toward her side, and then thrust it beneath her left arm like a spear. The woman gasped and her grey eyes traveled down to the torn slit in her yellow blouse. Its edges quickly became soaked with red. Pale lips murmured something incomprehensible over the rumble of the crowd, but her glazing desperate eyes spoke all she had wished to say. Kaie watched her slump into the gladius with a hardened expression, and when she yanked her weapon free, the woman dropped to the dirt for another to take her place.

It wasn't taking them long to overwhelm her. First one broke free to her left, and another followed the hole the first had shot through. The Myrian glanced to her opposite side to see how Bitzer might fair, but her face darkened instead at the realization of her absence. Somewhere she saw a glint of steel and a furious flail of an arm at ground level. Her companion had fallen, but for the moment she didn't know exactly what that meant. At least what she did understand was that attackers were slipping by on that side, too. Their unified line had broken. Time to fall back, She thought with a growl, hurling her full weight into the crowd and dashed backward. A stone crunched against the back of her vest with a force that almost knocked her off her feet. By Myri's will alone, she stumbled but did not lose her feet. Not yet anyway.

It was always a painful decision, falling back. For her anyways. It felt like giving up and looked an awful lot like retreating. Even so, she had to accept it was indeed a tactical decision and one that was sometimes necessary. Still, she did so slowly. Her feet moved backward madly, but her body was still square to the oncoming danger. Choosing a target to commit to was impossible. Everything was happening so quickly and from so many different angles. With the back line collapsed, she was naught but a willful stone in the way of the incoming wave. Her gladius dashed at the air before her, warding them off as best she could. Twice she hesitated, nearly tripping over herself when her eyes wandered to where she thought she'd last seen the other woman mercenary. I should go back...

A club wielding member of the mob hurtling toward her forced her to focus on her immediate area, but not until after it bludgeoned her brutally in the left shoulder. For the short tick she had been distracted, she had failed to properly react. At least she had managed to slide her head out of the way. "Petchin' shyke!" She yowled in her native tongue. Already she could feel the vicious bruising beneath her skin and the cascades of blood oozing from where spikes had ravaged her. Out of instinct, her right hand came around in a fist despite her sword to pummel the man with her knuckles. They dashed bluntly across his temple, and before she lost herself to personal vengeance in the middle of the battle, her name rose above the shouts around her.

Bitzer.

The authoritative tone evident in the command was sobering enough. With a grunt, the Myrian resolved to smash her right heel into the man's crotch rather than the alternative. Shoulders bashed against hers, but with several good shoves she was free and breaking for the remainder of their group. She almost passed the cripple where he huddled uselessly upon the dirt in defeat. Kaie wrenched him to his feet and all but dragged him along with her, brandishing her sword to threaten the few men and women still crowding like wolves at her back. The other mercenary man was holding his own for the time being. The Chainer practically clutched at his back for protection each time a few figures made themselves known. There was blood near the merchant's left eyebrow and a few shallow tears upon his guardian's clothes.

"Come on!" She barked furiously at the three, bashing her shoulder against a teenage boy that dashed at the merchant's open flank. He tumbled back and took down two bystanders with him, much to their displeasure. "Move your petching asses!" She nodded toward a fork in the streets and the other mercenary ushered the two clients forth. Panic cranked the cripple into gear, and the merchant raced along as if there were no chains or a heavy chest attached to him at all. Kaie stayed at the back as she had before, ducking when an air born object flew her way and slashing the air in warning when one tried to keep up. They took the left fork and then the next one's right. Her remaining armed companion looped them through a maze of alleys until they emerged another street over.

"Wait!" Kaie hissed suddenly, sprinting to catch up with them. The three ducked back into the shadows of the alleyway and stared at her with wild eyes. She doubled over, glaring out into the sunlit street while her lungs heaved. The brother was barely still on his feet and the leading merchant was soaked through with perspiration. The citizens on the new route were completely unsuspecting and neutral, but that was only for the moment. Only until someone pondered the worth of the chest and the swinging chains. She saw the cigar-chewing man once again in the confines of her mind. He was grinning sadistically at her, and each time he laughed the cigar in his mouth bounced ashes into the air. Her mind was made up. She waved the street away and turned to the wooden structure beside them.

It was worn and broken down as most structures were. It seemed abandoned but she supposed most dwellings in Sunberth did. Its windows were barred shut with thick slabs of wood. The nearby door was sealed in a similar manner.
"It's no use. Look a' it. No way in there," the mercenary said grimly, his eyes looking around anxiously. Kaie pressed her hands against the structure's damp wooden side with a groan. No way in. No way out for whatever was inside anyways. Do we dare brave the streets and risk another ambush? We already lost one.
"This is all your doing! You two were supposed to watch our backs! They're looking for us and we're standing here!"
"My doing?! Your stupid petching chains led every starving mouth in this shyke hole straight to us! Goddess, dammit!"

Her heel soared straight through the damp wood low to the corner of the building so hard it caved. The three beside her blinked in as much surprise as she did, and soon enough the other mercenary was right at her side bashing his own heel into the rotting wood. When a big enough hole was made, he crawled in first and explored its innards. After several ticks he whistled and the Chainer and the cripple wriggled through the small space after him. The Myrian crouched at the entrance to the improvised safe house, began to slip inside, and paused.

"The petch you waitin' for? An invitation? Get in here before they see you," the other mercenary hissed from the darkness. She heard the subtle rattle of chains as the merchant made himself comfortable inside.
"We left her behind."
"So petchin' what? More for us now come on!"
"We don't leave comrades behind. Not in Taloba."
She returned to the alley and shoved the wreckage they'd created in an attempt to hide the entrance to their hiding place. It was hardly concealing, but it was less conspicuous than the mess they had made. She weaved her way back through the maze of shadows and toward the second fork. At its corner she seated herself beside an old, decrepit man slumped miserably against the wall. He smelled of piss and sweat but it was as good as any camouflage she could find in plain sight.

With her head down and her fiery eyes up and constantly scanning the street, she hoped a very much alive Bitzer would appear soon enough. The blood from her shoulder trickled down her bicep and began to color the street in proud red dots.

[Fallon]

A sea of bodies rushed against them. She barely had time to register the closing in of the next wave, her off hand slapping down to both of the other tulwar hilt. The hold of was still tight around her ankle, a slash of the dagger against her back forcing her into reaction. The left blade came swinging round this time, shortly followed by the right - keen, sharp and looking to remove the threat that was before her. It still did not stop the feeling of the stinging sensation clawing its way through the flesh in a single slash. Teeth gritted, she did not look to the face as she cleaved the hand off in one broad hacking motion and staggered free. Another came at her shortly after, eyes wild, teeth gnashing and looking for blood. There was jerk back in response, before she gave a broad slash across the torso. A spray a crunch, she used her left arm to push away the oncoming momentum of the still travelling body.

She did not know if Kaie had heard her above the screams and shouts, but right now that was falling back in terms of priorities. Knees bent, heels digging in to face the approaching storm of combat. It was her duty to give the others time now, if the Myrian had done her job of dragging the merchant away to safety. There was a hiss as the fists and improvised weapons came her way, her foot rising up to give a firm, swift kick back at the closest. She watched a stumble, both arms swinging out with their keen blades to serve as a deterrent. The line broke, the people swarmed and buzzed, taking their hints as the body braced.

And all the while the pulse begun to quicken and the breaths begun to grow sharper, ragged and tight. Exhale and inhale, the adrenal begun to sink in and quicken her. Muscles strained, the clenched fist around the hilt came round to punch, before once more she pulled back. Another step, another brace for the wave of a thousand hands and eyes looking to take opportunity. She twisted the blade, guiding the steel around an oncoming blow and parrying it away - only to receive a clenched fist to the gut instead. There was no chance in winning this, the numbers were against her. Another step, before she felt the firm shove push her back into the mob. Balance lost, she slammed her feet onto the ground to maintain herself. If she took to the floor again she would be trampled into it -and that would do her little good.

A hissing growl escaped, growing up into a noticeable rumble within her throat. Ears caught the sound of shouting just beyond, the bodies condensing in as the hunting cries begun to sound out. There was no second thought as she forced her arms out once more and broadly swiped at those around her, no hesitation as the spray and gurgles erupted. Teeth bared, she felt the pulsing of rage rise up and begin its firm hold, with its direction set only on carving her way free from the growing bodies. A hack down into the shoulder of one, a step and a deflect with the other tulwar - arm trembling as it sliced flesh. She did not want to think about the injuries that now marred her, her throbbing head was enough to serve as an incentive to keep moving. There was a spit of blood, the throwing of herself forward with the firm thrust of the blade. If they did not move, then that was the fate they would receive.

Gloves were slick as were the blades, another step towards her chosen destination - a narrow gap between the buildings that could barely be called an alley. Another cracking blow, a wince as she felt the edges become sliced. Another step, a wild swing with a loud roar escaping from her lips - not that it seemed to do much to persuade them otherwise. All shoving and pushing blindly, confusion almost within the mind and body of the mob itself. A final step, a hack once more of the tulwar, followed by a stumble into the gap. There were a few snagging grabs at her as she found some freedom, the rapid palpitations within her ears. She gave her left tulwar a thrust back, a deterrent as she begun the awkward sidestepping down the gap and into freedom the other side.

The empty space of this narrow alleyway was quiet in comparison to the street she had just escaped from, still in the air with limited signs of life. She heard a cat hiss, somewhere and the gentle rattle as it disappeared out of sight. But it was not her immediate concern. There was a mumbling of a curse as she leaned herself up against the wall, a glance down to the slash to the side, a wince as she felt the collection of nicks, cuts and bruises across the left side of her face. Teeth clenched into a line, the attempt to smear the blood away failing and leaving only a grim mask of red. Fingers touched, tapping the injuries as she probed and felt the rattling exhale of adrenal escape. That painful come down, that left the voice in a husky growl. She slipped one of the blades away. Her eyes looking for a moment in a direction in which to head off in.

"Petch," She muttered to herself. With the main tulwar still drawn she lurched off, following parallel of the street as much as possible as she looked for a path that could have possibly been taken. She could hear the faint patter of drips upon the floor, the grimace having plastered itself in place. Her form stepped into the shadows, feet forced into as much speed as she could muster. And all the while that was how it was, a pull back when she caught sight of some of the loose stragglers of the mob dash on past - still looking for the opportunity. Her form slunk back then, a small crouch as they disappeared and headed around a corner. All the while though the form swayed back and forth, looking and searching for the tell tale signs that they had travelled this way. Though at the time it was appropriate to issue the order to simply move on and quickly - it did not help in establishing a point in which to group up in.

When the old street came back into view on her left she continued to walk onwards - it seemed to be the only viable direction in which to travel now. Another hiss, another wince as she gave a glance to the dribbles that work its way down her shin. It was definitely a problem, with another quickly growing before her. A pair of the mob stragglers were before her, intently staring as she pushed on past them in the alleyway. She would have put it down to the current look upon her, at least until they spoke up.
"Oi... weren't he with that chest man?" She chewed her lip at the mention of 'he' and kept her eyes staring forward, head down and the steps quickening. Her free hand went down to the tulwar, the gaze darting back and forth as she tried to make speed.
"Think you're right... Oi! Where the petch you think you're going?" She winced, teeth grinding as she felt the stings begin to rise. The pair were still shouting at her from behind, "Oi! You ignoring us? Petching... Get him!"
Her eyes barely snatched the sight of a hunched over old man and the shape of a younger woman before the first rock hit. There was only a pivot, ears catching the rush of footsteps as one dashed up to her with yobbish shout in attempt for a war cry, and whip of steel before the broad slash swiped at him. The throat constricted once more, eyes burning angrily. Another setback she would have to deal with before she found the group once more, "You want to really petching try that boy? Come on then!"

[Kaie]

He wasn't the worst companion she ever had, that melancholy old man. His hygiene was beyond questionable. The clothes that hung as loosely from his shoulders as the skin on his triceps were perhaps once a soft beige, but now spotted unceremonious in vast arrays of peculiar greens, bile yellows, and dusty browns. His hair was straw-like and seemed to alternate harmoniously between blacks and grays, the same as the long beard that covered his haggard face. In the hollows of his eyes laid tired blue eyes that never seemed to leave the ground as he sat there, slumped against the street corner with his elbows resting on his knees. He made good, inconspicuous cover at the very least. For the several chimes they were in each other's company, he uttered not a word.

Kaie had his posture mimicked for the most part. It certainly wasn't comfortable to say the least, but she seemed to fit the role she was playing well enough. Not one of the passing citizens paid her much mind. Once or twice she found herself within another's gaze, but rarely did their eyes linger upon her battered form. To them, she was merely another member of their impoverished populace. It seemed neither her attire nor her skin color mattered when she was in legion with the rest of the human waste lying around, simply waiting to wither and perish like the man beside her.

The longer she sat there, the more self aware she became. She could feel the strain in her muscles from her wild movements before and the soreness to come. She noticed how hard her lungs had been working before, and their relief she felt as her breathing began to reach a normal state. The wound from the spiked club looked more like a mutilated dog bite than something inflicted by a man made weapon. Copper flesh had been shredded and left to bleed, while the blunt impact blackened and bruised what remained. Shades of purple and green branched like satellites toward healthier skin, concealed for the moment by the bloody rivers that ran over them. Petcher must've put nails through the petching thing. Who the petch carries that shyke around anyways? And they call us the savages.

An anxiousness crept into her as time ticked by. The longer she waited for Bitzer, the higher the chance those she left behind would be discovered. She had figured by now the mob would've broken down, split off as the fiends scoured the streets for the chest and its protectors. Several had passed by her earlier, and a few whispers lingered about the scuffle they experienced and the wealth hoped to be gained by those involved. Yet they too had passed by, leaving naught by the common travelers and people like the elder beside her. "The mission always comes first", Yitmah seemed to remind her from that tiny space he occupied in her mind. As much as she hated to admit it, the long forgotten mentor's lesson had always proven true. Perhaps it was time to entertain the idea their chosen leader had indeed met an unpleasant end. At least that's what she was begrudgingly trying to convince herself when she heard the voices.

Hardened amber eyes slowly shifted from her boots to the street, where they found three faces passing right on by. The pair of men were dressed in typical attire and boasting the expected Sunberthian thug swagger. The woman ahead of them, however, was far from their sort. With one of her steps, the Myrian caught the all too familiar gleam of crimson trailing down one of her shins. She might've called to the friendly face right then had it not been for the growing hostility behind the woman. Instead she allowed them to continue past her before she eased up to her feet, and fell into their wake swiftly. The pain in her shoulder caused her left arm to linger closely to her body, but her right hand wasted no time retrieving the bloody gladius from its hold. All illusions of relaxation before were gone the moment she felt the familiar burn upon her neck: the three claw-like slashes that represented her Mother's blessing. With it came a greater comfort in her sword hand, and thus a growing confidence budding into righteous anger within her chest.

Now, she thought the moment the rock was hurled Bitzer's way. Kaie stormed forward at their backs, letting her own jungle war cry rip through the air with a sharpness startling enough to turn one of them. His rusty dagger diced before him in her direction madly, but predictably, the Myrian's sword exploited his weakness in range. In one of his wild thrusts, she stepped off center and committed herself to a downward swing that hacked his forearm to the white of the bones. He shrieked, let the dagger slip from his hands, crumpled down onto his back, and held the section of arm. He gaped at the splinters of one of the two bones, kicking his feet and muffling his cries with a bite upon his tongue.

"My petching arm! You little shyke! Look at my arm!" He howled furiously at her, eyes watering in a manner that made him look very much like a boy again. When her slender shadow loomed over him, he glanced up and a new realization hit him. "Oi, what do you think you're doing? Keep the petching chest! I don't want it! I don't! You and him! I just wanted..."
"Coin? So do I, which is why I have to do this," She growled unsympathetically just before she jerked her sword into the man's upper chest, and then ripped it out from between the spaces of his ribs. He flattened against the street and stared down at the wide slit. His eyes dilated in a panic, red splotted lips sputtering between bloody gasps. Very quickly was his wounded arm forgotten when his lungs started to become invaded by his own blood. A bladed boot kicked the rusted dagger away from the soon-to-be corpse.

"Bitzer?" The Myrian's focus flashed back to her fellow mercenary. If she found the woman had indeed neutralized the second threat, Kaie would gesture for her to follow and dart quickly in the direction of the alleyways. Otherwise, her feet would make a mad dash forward to make better work with her crimson painted blade.

[Fallon]

Fallon's teeth gritted, the dull ache upon her shoulder where the rock had collided making itself known as the attacker came in. She watched him hesitate for a moment, a flicker as he seemed to stall and wonder if attacking truly was the right option. That was until he gave that lurch forward anyway - his mind was now set only upon blood now. Lips peeled back, the arm withdrawing as she caught the sound of the loud war cry and the echoing shriek of pain that came with it. Focus was split for a moment, a dart of the eyes as she tried to locate its source and was consequently pushed back by the oncoming blade.

A quick step, a wince as she pressed the weight onto the weaker leg and promptly brought the tulwar forward in a thrust. Left shoulder lead into a barge, the blade resting against the length of the body as she followed it through into the soft belly of her attacker. His own gave a scrape to her side, flesh receiving the fine slice and another opening to deal with. A hot hiss escaped, the full weight going into the shove to push the man away as he simply looked in horror to the new exposure within his body. The foot gave another slam down, a hack down to the ground that sent him little more than stumbling and gurgling.

Eyes barely looked down, her chest heaving as she stepped away and looked upon the dying man. It was fascinating in its own way - the human body was incredibly fragile without any training or armour. It was little more than meat waiting to be pierced, skewered and left to return to the earth. The stare lifted, watching the other would be attacker collapse to the floor. From there she looked upon the growling form of the Myrian, blooded and cut, grimfaced and determined. The pair no doubt looked a picture. There was another step away, the flicker of a wolfish gaze rising up before it slipped back. It was carefully the tulwar was slid away, a rattling inhale as she tried to gain some form of bearings.

"Kaie?" She nodded, if not with a slightly confused and drawn expression. There was a blink, her head turning about to check her surroundings and the momentary stillness. Somewhere beyond was the faint hum of the public, but other than that there was little more than silence. Another look about, skin prickling, the gaze sweeping, before she took to the gesture. She wasted no time following her darting into the shadow of an alleyway.

Footsteps thudded, the faint clink of metal as the twists and turns grew around them. Fallon took a slightly slower pace, teeth gritting together as the muscles pulled and rebelled within her shin, and the wound cracked and hissed. Eyes looked, or continued to do so, widened slightly to take in the world and the changing narrow scene before her. But it was urgency that pushed her forth, the hand occasionally falling to her side and pressing. It was ridiculous really, the entire situation was one that by the looks of things was going to get them all killed if they did not do anything about it.

"Take it you hid them away?" Fallon grunted, her eyes burning forward for a moment. She took a pause when they approached the exit of the next alleyway. Her eyes looked down to the worn and decrepit building and the worn rubble and remains leaned against the side. Feet gave a stamp against the earth, her shoulder leaning up against the side of the building as she took a deep breath. Her head still hurt, her mind was spinning as it tried to work out the next lot of choices, "Seriously, I'm doing to cut that man's arm off if it means he'll take off that bloody chain. Petching gods," She gave a shake of the head, words barely mumbling, "We need a plan. And a good one.."

Kicking the rubble aside she gave a peer down into the hole that remained, the grim face peering in to be greeted by the firm point of a sword and an angry mercenary. She gave a snort to him, catching the faint rapid breathing of the two frightened men, and the faint clinking of chains. There was a sweep of the dark inside space, cramped by the looks of things, and it was something she partially rebelled against entering. The mercenary gave a snort, the blade lowering slowly, "Oh, it's you."
"Nice way to greet someone," she retorted with a wiry smile, "So, what's the plan?"

[Kaie]

Once the shadowy mazes had been a cause for alarm and the nervous prickling of skin. Now they served as comforting masses of buildings that provided cover from the greed-driven figures that constantly swarmed the streets. Looming, rotted structures of poor craft provided the constricted, littered pathways the pair of mercenaries raced through in their escape from the public eye. Once or twice the Myrian found herself dodging past a body curled up against a corner. At the rate she was moving, she could not determined if either figure was living or dead. There was no time to ponder their fates. All of her expendable energy was devoted to keeping her pace and navigating purely through memory. The clinking of metal behind her was the only indication her companion was still at her heels.

Upon turning the final corner toward their destination, Kaie slowed her pace to one of a light jog. A single glance was thrown over her shoulder at Bitzer's correct guess. "The streets weren't safe anymore. Couldn't risk charging out into another ambush, not with so few swords as it is," She explained as she peered out toward the area surrounding the improvised safe house. Finding no out of place disturbances, she approached the rubble. For a tick she thought she heard the gentle rattle of chains, though perhaps that was merely paranoia. "Well if you can't convince him to I swear I'll wrap it around his petching neck."

She drifted to the wall of the abandoned building and leaned against it. The water skin at her hip was retrieved, the top unscrewed, and water hastily poured between her parched lips. With all the adrenaline present before, the woman hadn't even realized just how desperate her body had become for re-hydration. She swallowed hard and wiped stray droplets from her mouth with the back of her other hand. The waterskin was secured back to her side, and she was left to gaze warily between the two entrances to their alleyway while Bitzer reunited with the rest of their shaken group.

"Gotten a little jumpy haven't we?" She grinned darkly down at the exposed sword and the shadowed face peering from the hole. Her right hand's fingers wandered skittishly about the torn flesh of her left shoulder. She winced once when she made the mistake of tapping the edge of one of the still bleeding areas.
"Says the one who had us holed up like rats while they played the foolish hero," the disgruntled comrade retorted with a grimace. Kaie took a step toward the hole and swung her foot toward the entrance's general direction, forcing the man to duck back inside to avoid losing his nose. "I'm just sayin' maybe I outta pick the plan next time to make sure I don't get screwed again."
"Then out with it. We can't sit here all day. You have a suggestion?"
"Well..."
"You think on that one. I, for one, am not so keen on getting jumped again. Maybe our methods are too...direct."]