Quest When hope is lost (Ricky)

[Mirage]

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Crowley took just a tick to look through the wagon after Ricky retrieved his weapon, shifting through the junk there and pulled out a great sword, though whether or not it was his he gave no indication. The armor was left untouched. After all for the time being stealth and silence was their friend, and clanking metal would do little to help their cause.

Coming up beside Ricky, Crowley would stab the sword point first into the ground so that it would stand on its own, leaning on the hilt as Ricky prepared his spell. their positioning was just to the right of the cage, the two guards facing toward the camp on their left and the lantern beside the man closed to their position. Crowley would lean down, whispering softly in his gruff voice, "Alright... Yeh will take teh man 'ere, closest to teh lantern. I'll circle 'round to teh other side. When yeh put out teh lights I'll take teh other one down. Yeh got it?" He asked, but it wasn't really a question. He knew Ricky would do what needed to be done, and in a situation like this there was no other choice but to trust the man beside. Or, in this case, the man on the other side of the cage. Taking his dagger in hand Crowley would take a half crouch as he entered the trees once more, maneuvering into place while Ricky finished the rest of his spell.

Ricky's magic would flight straight and true, the most perfect shot he had ever made in fact. The spell splashed against the lantern, dowsing the flame and making the guard nearest Ricky jump and curse as he tripped over the side of the barrel, falling flat on his face and groaning softly into the ground. He was in a more serious state of drunkenness than he should have been while on watch, and Scarface surely would have skinned him alive in the morning if he had found out. His friend just laughed, softly of course because he did not want to wake anyone either. Just as he was taking another drink a form appeared behind him, a form with a grizzly beard. A hand grabbed the guards hair, pulling his head back and a dagger flashed across his throat, opening a gash from which gushed a stream of blood onto the ground.

The other man was none the wiser, still on the ground as he slowly tried to prop himself up on his elbows, shaking his head to try to clear it enough to stand. It was the perfect chance.

OOCCrowley will slowly lower the dead man's body to the ground so that he does not make any noise. I leave it to you to figure out how Ricky dispatches the last man
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[Ricky Maze]

Of course it was simply easier for Ricky to go along and agree right away with what Crowley had planned for them, for one it was quick and easy to execute and two there was simply little option left in the matter to create such an argument anyhow. Thus with the execution of his spell Ricky sent forth the ball of water and prayed to the high Divines that it would land on its mark, and just when he couldn't only expected mediocre if not worse performance the aim was actually quite spot on in regards of hitting the target. With the timing he'd made and the momentum built in the rotation his water flew with a transition of its own that made it soar through the air, compacted until at last the lantern itself was doused in pure liquid substance to vanquish the living light that banished their cloak of darkness. Now as the two guards were caught off guard from the effect caused by Ricky's magic, it had been time for the two of them to act in turn.

Crowley was the first to execute his action in the plan and his timing was just as perfect as Ricky's own spell cast. It was sickly to see how the bastard was dispatched so easily and quietly, even if the night had darkened the area to where detail wasn't exactly vivid, Ricky could still see enough to make out the fact that the man had done a silent killing via the slice of the jugular. Now it was Ricky's own turn, and he had to be quick before the other bastard on the ground could find the chance to make a single sound and alert the rest of the camp. That meant Ricky's own blade had to find a way to silence the voice, before a single sound would be uttered into the piercing darkness. Tragic. Within the veil of shadows two souls would find themselves embraced by Dira herself, even so the situation demanded that they worked fast to save everyone that mattered most. After all these men weren't the only ones soon to be plagued by the cloak of death, Ricky himself still had to continue his struggle in order to survive, once this night's ordeal had come to past finally.

Ricky had already drawn his blade quietly when the watchdog he was to dispose of fell over, after his initial shock in the sudden amazement with how the water ball actually hit spot on passed quickly of course. Once he'd watched the enactment of Crowley dispatching the guard that laughed, he knew right then he had to prepare for a swift yet savage way to execute the bastard on the ground. It turn his insides to think of how the end result would be, but all the same the fisherman knew that showing mercy wasn't an option in this case. Thus Ricky took a deep breath in and charged forward, his longsword held downward at an obtuse angle in the process. Don't t'ink on it, just do! He reminded himself as he clenched his jaw tightly, upon the approach to his intended target he raised his sword just a little, enough to where he would find himself able to swing it around in a complete circle now. He was only several feet away now, a little more closer and the moment would be right. Somehow though even with the intention to end a life, Ricky still felt part of him unwilling to follow through with this so willingly. It was too late though, even if he wanted to pull back there was no time, the action had already taken place.

"What the pe-" There was no more sound to come next, at least nothing more to come from the mouth, as the watchdog would no longer find himself bearing a head... In that particular moment when he tried to connect the dots, where he witnessed the downfall of his fellow comrade and a cut throat, Ricky had been just a couple feet from behind. The fisherman had his sword high at that point, highly raised to come down in a low cut horizontal strike. Where was it aimed? The head generally but Ricky didn't have the proper light to focus on the proper area, yet even so his accuracy was just as spot on which in turn made for a deadly swift execution. The elaborate quality of his steel blade was quick as there was a tear of flesh and quick snap of bone, the sword itself gave a low ring out in the darkness around as the very blade then sunk into the ground next. Ricky who had not only clenched his jaw but in turn tightened shoulders and the like finally loosened as he rested on one knee, relieved that not only had the job been done but it had been done with the effort of keeping him silence... well, mostly silent. The guard he disposed of remained lifeless now, the head of his body fell first before the rest followed in its collapse.

Ricky's breaths finally came out in short pants as he shook off the intense feelings of jitters that ran through his spine, the sudden intent to kill a most terrifying sensation to run through his mind as he recalled the associated times he'd spilled blood before. He wasn't meant for this, he never wanted to harm others. Yet when the time called for otherwise and there was little left to do in turn, he wouldn't turn sway from the goal set before him so long as it involved saving the lives of the innocents involved. Yes. These men weren't... well it was difficult to dwell on really, but all the same the people they held captive held far more importance than these lowly thugs. Therefore even it it would be an act he might regret later on, Ricky would do what was necessary, if not right, in order to save those extra few. Its over wit', he's dead now.... Those words had to sink in for a moment, so that the reality would seem easier to accept, now that the worst has hopefully yet to come. Though in truth Ricky doubted that was the worst, as they'd yet to deal with Scarface... and hopefully they wouldn't.

"Roi," He whispered as he drew his blade in close, with a quick glance to the tents nearby he couldn't see any signs of movement or activity, "Oi t'ink dat takes care o' dat... what now mate?" Seeing as how part one of their plan had gone unhitched so far Ricky could only pray that things would continue to pan out like this, but of course luck had never been one to be on his side either. In turn the fisherman waited to hear what ideas would come along next and of course put in his two sense about it, all while he would tag alongside Crowley in whatever came next in part of the plan that was to follow.

[Mirage]

"Well dun wit tha' one. Cleaved 'is 'ead off real good." Crowley whispered, already shifting through the dead men's clothing, "But aint no time ta be getting full o' yerself. We still gotta get outa 'ere witout the whole of teh camp catchin us. Aha!" He grinned as he raised an iron key up for Ricky to squint at in the darkness, An' 'ere is step two o' our escape! 'Ere take teh key and free the prisoners. I'll start look'n fer a way outa 'ere."

Standing the man would offer the key to Ricky before crouching and moving swiftly around the back of the large slave wagon to explore the woods behind it. Ricky would be left with the task of making sure the people in the wagon, which Crowley knew the man might appreciate since he was looking for his wife.

The cage was large with thick iron bars as big around as Ricky's forearm. The space between the bars were so small that not even a child could fit his hand through them. In the darkness it was difficult to make out how many people were in the cage, or if anyone he knew was there. They key would unlock a large padlock found at the back end of the wagon, and there was even a step ladder in place for one to step up close to the large swinging door when it was time to feed the slaves. The lock was rusty, and made a terrible noise as the key was turned in it. It was not clear if it was heard by anyone, but the sound carried well in the silence of the night.

The people trapped in the wagon were surely the worse for wear. The catch consisted of 7 men, 4 women and 2 small children, both girls, around 5 and 8 years old. As the door was opened none of the people inside moved. They were dirty, most of them so thin that their ribs showed through, and the children had distended bellies. They had been caught some time ago, and they were definitely well taken care of. Ricky would not recognize anyone in the wagon however, and whether that was a good or a bad sign was for him to decide.

Among the group there was one person who was not quite so bad off. A woman, young like most of them with auburn hair and hazelnut eyes looked up as the cage opened. She stood slowly then, using the bars to help her as one of her legs was fixed in a very rough splint made of splintered wood and bloodied bandages that looked like they were just torn strips from a used shirt.

"Wh-who are you...?" The woman's voice was low, but her voice was horse as her throat was dry from a couple days without water. There was a brightness in her eyes however that indicated she was completely lucid.

Crowley would be back in a few chimes time, but for now Ricky was on his own. 14 slaves were there in his care, and it was his job to try and save their lives. It was a critical moment, for the longer they waited the more likely it became that they would be caught.

[Ricky Maze]

Ricky couldn't help but scoff just a little when Crowley commented on "getting full of himself," honestly the fisherman couldn't think himself any better for making such a clean blow to the man he decapitated. Such a violent act was something he hated with disgust but had little choice in participating in, since they had to work together to get everyone who was a prisoner here free from the slavers. Maybe that's what Crowley meant in general, not to get so full of pained regret in the shortcoming of ending another life. The mystery wasn't dwelt upon though, as his ally seemed to discover an object that would serve them both well in the chimes to come. A key. At least it looked to be a key, from what Ricky could see at least. Suddenly the regret soon found an argumentative reason, a sudden burst of hope that maybe the action itself could be pardoned with reason, only because the act of saving far more important lives weighed in the balance. "Roi, leave it t' me mate." He nodded in compliance towards the notion, he couldn't be any more happier to be the one to set these poor souls free.

With the two of them splitting Ricky felt less capable than before, being on his own with hardly any support he sort of felt vulnerable. He was vulnerable practically speaking, since he was one man alone in the dark with not but a sword. That couldn't stop him though as lives were at stake, thus he couldn't let himself fall into any sort of disarray before the future already looked a little bleak. Somehow he felt as though this could very well take a different turn but he didn't care, he was determined to get through this and see that all the slaves made it out alive. He disliked how easily he fell into such a state but it was by far against his nature to be so self preservative, even if his beloved wife and his friend Hannah weren't there, he somehow just couldn't ignore the fact there were other people left to the mercy of these men. They had to be saved... they had to! Gods forbid they picked him to do it of course, but all the same Ricky wasn't going to let himself down in this regard. He had to go above and beyond just as he would before in times of crisis, and in turn he would endeavor to persevere through it all.

Kay den, dis looks t' be de cage. He thought quietly as he kept over to the wagon, he rested a hand on the bars of the cage for a moment as he tried to peer inside. His heart was already pounding as is and the fact he could feel the rush of blood flow through his head, he could tell he was more than just a little nervous about this whole act. Yet he couldn't let fear hold him back, instead he had to let it drive him forward so he could be courageous instead. He took a moment to find the keyhole but once inserted he was cautious about turning the key, a clench in his jaw to follow as the hinges of the door creaked out into the night. He looked over his shoulder quickly to see if movement would stir, and then returned to the task at hand when it seemed nothing had gone bump in the night. Tw'... no four women. Seven men, an' tw' children. He counted as he leaned in to see if anybody he knew was inside, but by the looks of it these were all people he'd never met in his entire life. Even so his heart felt for them, even worse for the children that looked to have bloated bellies. They were all in no condition to merely run, they could very well be exhausted for all Ricky knew. Yet he couldn't let that stop him from trying, the night was still young fortunately and they needed only the darkness to cloak their escape for so long.

No Telion or Hannah... That could only be a good sign for Ricky, unless they kept their prisoners held elsewhere. He refused to let the latter sink in just yet, he had to focus in order to keep moving forward. They were fine, they had to be. Even if he were denying such a possibility, he couldn't let his drive fail him now. We gotta git 'em all outta 'ere. His brows furrowed as he held a tighter grip on the hilt of his longsword, he'd forgotten that the extension of his arm still existed until that particular moment. As he worked to release the prisoners one spoke to him in a whisper, a dry crack to her voice revealed yet another sign of her condition. When Ricky looked to her he held within him definitive scared look as they definitely were in a situation that made time an essence not to be wasted, a glance cast down to the fixated crutch made around her leg. She was no going to be the without help, which meant Ricky had some carrying to do when everyone was out of here. "Me names Ricky lass, Oi'm 'ere t' set all o' yew free. We dun got much time, so Oi need all o' yew t' try an' quietly git out de wagon. We've only got one shot at dis, an' Oi promise Oi'll make sure all o' yew get out alive."

He started to talk to her first but his gaze shifted to everyone else as he continued to speak, as it was presently clear that they were all aroused and ready to escape. If anything this served as a moment of hope to them or so he assumed, yet with a glimmer of hope came the senseless grip of desperation in turn. He knew good and well these people could very well fall into such a grip, so he in turn had to make sure they all felt safe. His first act was to make sure they all were guided out of the wagon quietly and into the open darkness of their prison, the woman with the handmade splint helped by Ricky himself as he made is easier for her to walk out. With everybody pretty much grouped around him he thought about Crowley and the direction he'd went off, and whether or not it would serve as their way of escape or not. It was a possibility that he had to risk but first was to figure out the act of following the trail, unless the man made it back before they had set off. For now it was getting the act of moving together, which in Ricky in turn worked quickly to assess the plan together.

"Listen now," He spoke low enough for only the group to hear, "Oi need de tw' o' de strongest men t' carry a child, de rest o' ya 'elp de women as we escape. We've gotta be as quick as we can, but what's more important is bein' absolutely quiet! Oi'll be at de rear t' guard yew all, so yew can trust me t' be watchful wit' any danger while we make a break fer it." He looked to the auburn haired woman with both a fearful and yet hopeful stare in his eyes, determined to see that they would all be free from the clutches of these slavers. "Oi'll carry yew if need be lass, Oi'm de one whose got de most strength as is, so Oi can 'elp yew if need be." He offered seeing as how she might need the extra hand, he didn't know how bad her injury was but he felt sure the crutch itself would slow her down. Not like the others weren't in better condition either, they all needed someone to shoulder them somehow. Though Ricky wasn't capable of handling that many burdens at once, he couldn't stop himself from trying to make things easier on them and in turn be their guide to safety. "Me mate Crowley 'eaded off dis way, if we start t'ere we may catch up wit' em an get free." He nodded and pointed off towards the direction his partner had ventured off to, whether or not he was about to return was a mystery itself that would soon be revealed.

If the woman he offered to carry needed it he would proceed to pick her up, in turn shepherding the group forward with eyes occasional cast back towards the encampment they were bound to put behind them.

[Mirage]

The slaves were a near lifeless mass of flesh, and they were slow to knowledge that there was someone there that might help set them free. Several had traveled with this group of slaves for most of the season, and the few that were newer to the flock had certainly had their spirits completely shattered and all hope crushed beneath the iron boot of the slaver's merciless treatment. Only the woman with the crutch looked alert enough to follow what was said. She looked around at the group, biting her lip as she looked back at Ricky. There was no recognition from the group, and no one stirred even as he made his dramatic speech, but as the silence increased from one tick to ten the woman shuffled to one of the bigger men, kneeling down and abruptly slapping him across the face with a loud smack.

"Borus, didn't you hear him? We are escaping! Collect the kids and get everyone moving. We are free!"

Borus lifted a hand to rub his cheek, his eyes once clouded slowly came to focus again as he looked at Ricky and stood without a word. He nudged the man to his left, and so it went down the line until everyone was standing and shuffling to help one another, and like cattle they would be herded from the cage. Borus was a large man, bigger than either Ricky or Crowley with a body that once was fitted with bulging muscles. Now the skin sagged under his arms and flab replaced his abs as starvation tore away at his good figure. He had the dark skin of a Benshira, but he was far taller than one of their kind should have been. Perhaps a mix blood. He took both of the children in his arms, not speaking a word as he carried them out of the cage with the rest.

"They are all broken." The woman said as she let Ricky support her weight and help her from their prison, though she would refuse to be carried. She still had a bit of pride left, "They've lost all hope, and with good reason. This is hopeless. We won't be able to escape the slavers, not like we are now..." She bit her lip and refused to look at Ricky.

Crowley's bearded face poked out from the treeline, waving toward Ricky before he detached himself and came to meet the boy and his rag tag crew before they entered the treeline, "We're in luck boy, found ourselves a game trail we c'n follow. It's too close fer t'eir 'oreses ta follow us through, so if we 're followed t'ey will 'ave ta follow on foot." he grinned, adjusting the blade he had strapped to his back, "Looks like Sylir ain't left us yet. Still got 'o bit 'o luck left in me." His eyes fell on the woman, and he nodded his head, "Pleasure ta meet ya miss. Don' yeh be worryin. Teh boy 'n I will get yeh all out 'o here safe 'n sound."

"We will see..." Though her tone did not show any optimism at all.

Crowley gave her one long look, his eyes narrowing slightly before he turned, waving at the slaves that gathered in a mass off to the side, "All right yeh bunch 'o half cocked worm food, I suggest yeh start folloin' meh 'n stay close. We gotta put some distance b'tween us an' dem slaver's. Now move it!" Even though he whispered, somehow his voice carried weight and authority and the mass of bodies began to move. Crowley took the lead, leaving Ricky and his own charge to follow.

"It's never going to work." The woman said softly as they began after them, "The group is too large, too noisy and they are all close to dropping from dehydration and malnurisment. The slavers will find them, and throw them in the cage once more. There is no hope for them..." She fell silent for a tick before continuing, not meeting Ricky's eyes, "We should leave them behind. Alone we have a chance, we can get away while they are occupying the slavers. We can slip away. There is still hope for us Ricky."

[Ricky Maze]

The act of getting them out took a bit more than Ricky anticipated of course but it was to be expected, they were all tired and exhausted and not a shred of hope had existed for them up until now. Even so Ricky was determined to get through this, to help them out and remain courageous in the face of fear he struggled with. With the way the woman he helped down proud enough to refuse being carried he gave her a smirk with a look of understanding, he wasn't going to put her through that kind of shame if such an act were to impose upon her personal feelings. The main important thing was to get them out of here, and even if the situation looked pretty grim he wasn't going to falter from the path set before them. Though it was the truth he had to give it his all, the fact these people were starved and dehydrated could be cured later, right now they just need to get away.

"Hey," The fisherman would croon his head to try and look into her eyes, though her attempt to avoid the contact only led for him to continue with his consolation, "We'll git t'rough dis. Everyone'll be fine Oi promise." It was a statement that felt half empty at first as there were no guarantees, but with the appearance of Crowley the deep sense of fear the fisherman felt was no longer as strong as it once was. There was hope and luck after all, as his companion found a way to get them out of here safe and sound. That's all that mattered. Telion and Hannah weren't here and he knew that, he believed that they were safe elsewhere. That they were likely just waiting to see where he went off to, and hopeful he would return soon of course. How much time had passed since he was gone? He didn't know. He hadn't the time to think on it, just mainly act so he could see that he returned to them once more.

With the speech given to rally the group Ricky himself felt inspired once more, they were almost home free now, just one step away from freedom itself and all they had to do was make it to this path Crowley found. It was an idea that turned into belief, and where there was belief there was a certain hope that everything would indeed turn out better for Ricky. Not just for him though, for everyone else here too. As they started to move finally and Ricky was at the rear helping the crippled woman, his eyes would remain sharply ahead with an occasional but vigil glance cast behind them to make sure they had yet to be discovered. Her words were harsh to accept but there was a truth that lied within, one that set Ricky on edge as he began to feel a bit of himself falter little by little at the gripping sense of fear that still lingered.

She's speakin' a point t' be sure. He worried as he continued to watch, their sluggish pace only a fine example of what awaited them should everything actually turn south for them. So far the night had gone unhitched in terms of the plan of action, yet what was to stop things from going wrong in the moment that mattered most. It was a complicated situation that he had to dwell on as the other option seemed better to follow, yet he had to think about the others that were here. He had to consider what would happen to them. They would be caught and Crowley in turn would be slaughtered, all because of the choice made to get away... to see the face of his beloved once more. What would Telion say now? How would she help him face the regret now if he made the wrong choice? He had to think on it.

He thought. He thought more and more and in turn his desires told him to run, to take this woman he was helping and make a break for it. Yet he couldn't. Because she wouldn't want that. Telion... she'd want him to help them, she'd want him to return safely but she wouldn't want him to give up and cower away. He had to stay, he had to help them. In short the despair that once washed over his face soon faded away, and his determination led him to look at the woman once more. "Look 'ere lass, we're all gettin' outta ere alive. Ain't nobody gonna be left behind, nobody gonna be caught either cause Oi swear dat any bastard dat dares t' try, Oi'll cut 'em down wit' all me fight Oi've got. Everyone o' yew deserve t' be free an' Oi am t' see yew get it in turn." Though it something that could've been more of a fool's speech, he disregarded whatever the woman may have thought of him.

He was determined to fulfill his duty as both a guard and a role model, he was to protect and serve these people and see that they were their own masters of fate. He would serve a guardian for them and see them freed from the torment they had suffered for so long, he would help them find that hope that they needed once more.

[Mirage]

The woman would remain silent then, keeping her eyes on the path as she let herself be lead by Ricky behind the rest of the group. The path itself was not really a path at all, it was a game trail which was worn just enough that it was barely visible as a path through the quickly thickening underbrush. Smaller, less traversed trails branched off from time to time but Crowley kept them on their straight and narrow path. The going was slow, agonizingly so because the slaves were all so weak and malnourished. Most had trouble walking, some could barely stand at all and Crowley often ended up supporting two or three of them at once. All the while though he would whisper words of encouragement, keeping the hope alive as they pressed deeper and deeper.

"There was one more..." The girl whispered, not looking up, "A woman, beautiful with blond hair. The fat man took her some time before

you came for us."

Just as this revelation was made the procession was stopped as well for they had reached an unforeseen obstacle. The path let out at a steep slope, rocky and dangerous before ending at a small bank of a river close to a mile across. The river completely blocked their path from there, and there was no visible way to cross. The party would need to either turn back or choose either north or south and follow the shoreline and hope that they were not spotted.

Crowley looked back at Ricky with a shrug, "I'm outa ideas mate. Yeh got somethin'?"

[

[Ricky Maze]

Their movements onward toward the freedom that awaited was sluggish to say the least, Ricky could only pray to the Goddess her self that the situation wouldn't erupt into a terrible turn of events, because Divines only knew if and when another one of the slavers at the encampment would decide they needed to check in with the guards posted at the cage where the slaves were kept. No. They weren't slaves, nor were they going to be. They were free people that were bound to live out their lives how they chose, but that would only be possible if everyone had been shepherded towards the freedom that awaited them. There was of course Crowley to thank for being such a wonderful leader, without him Ricky surely wouldn't have found it in himself to have made it this far.

"There was one more... A woman, beautiful with blond hair. The fat man took her some time before you came for us." The whisper was something Ricky wouldn't have paid much attention to, given the fact this woman already seemed to feel that all this was a hopeless cause to begin with. Yet when the words sank in there was a stop in his step as he remained petrified with a horrific realization of the description. Blond hair. Beautiful. Taken by the fat man.

Theh 're teh best and scream whe' I realleh get goin...

Those words... his worst fear had come to be realized. Or had it? There was that chance it wasn't her but deep down it was already too late, as Ricky remembered the earlier part of the conversation that he'd eavesdropped in. Horses. Pretty girls. There was just something about it that made his resolve from earlier quickly diminish, something that made him literally falter as he tried to keep from crumbling before the woman with the crutch. He... he can't 'ave. No! No, no, no, no! He rejected the notion, denied that it had to have occurred. Yet of course the seed had already been planted, Rick already felt part of him fall into a state of despair as he tried to remain in control of his emotions. Telion. She was being... no! He couldn't let this happen to her, he couldn't keep moving onward knowing that she was still back there. It was all too risky but he hadn't much of a choice, he had to go back if it meant he was to save her.

"I'm outa ideas mate. Yeh got somethin'?" Crowley's voice cut in and the fisherman snapped back into reality, the dark shell of fear he'd withdrawn in suddenly broken, as they faced yet another obstacle that kept them from moving forward. They had to keep moving, they had to keep going forward somehow. They would have to go on without him it seems, as Ricky had to apparently go back for the last one that had been left behind. There was two though... the woman he saw when they first awoke. Technically there had to be two that had to be saved then, and it fell onto Ricky's shoulders to go back and provide their rescue.

"Crowley, Oi dunno what else we've got t' do. Oi do know dat our best bet is likely t' 'ead north, yew can probably try 'n get away and if yew find a main road use it t' git dese people t' safety. Oi can't go wit' yew it seems, Oi've t' go back and see t' it de two we left behind 're rescued as well. One o' dem could likely be me wife, and if it is den Oi'm killin' me a fat bastard 'afore 'e can do any harm on 'er." Ricky stated as he looked back at the thin trail they'd walked. How unfortunate. Just when things looked to be turning out for the better, one minor obstacle made it seem like everything was finally about to go to shyke. If anything though, Ricky could provide distraction enough for the slaves to get away. It all depended on what awaited him back in the encampment, it was a fool's errand but he wasn't going to back down. This was Telion he was thinking about after all, he would gladly give his life over to her if it involved saving her. Hell he would tear down the sky if he could, because that's how much he loved her, and he would give anything to see that she was very well alive and unharmed.

[Mirage]

"Oi! Wait, we're yah goin!? Crowley called out, but Ricky was already moving away. The older man cursed under his breath, looking around at the helpless men and women around him and sighed, begining the slow track down the slope, intending to lead them north as Ricky suggested.

The girl hesitated, her eyes trained on Ricky's back as he pushed into the underbrush, her mouth opening like she was bout to say something, but it closed and she shook her head. Turning her back on the idiot who went to his death she limped to join the rest of the people hurrying down the slope, hurrying away for the possibility of freedom.

*****

Hope was a fragile thing. Some say it is easy to have hope, to just hold on until there is nothing else. Only the ignorant really believe that though. Hope was so very fragile, shattering as easily as a knee cap or a skull when struck with the brute force of reality. There was no hope. There never was any hope to begin with.

He blinked and he was back at the camp, as unchanged as it was before, except now the pain in his head was greater, thumping with the pulse of his heart, demanding to be noticed. He could not remember the journey back to the camp, like he could not remember being captured in the first place. The palms of his hands itched, like they were being rubbed with rough wool and a pressure was building behind his eyes. The torches flickered, the light they cast was wide and far too bright than they should have been, but that could have been a trick brought on by the pain in his head.

There was then a few moments of clarity as the world shifted back into focus, just long enough for him to notice the two men kneeling over the two Ricky and Crowley had murdered earlier. The shift change had come, and Ricky had walked right into it. They saw him, the one closest stood and pointed, but Ricky did not see what happened next. He blinked, and his mind blanked. The headache was growing worse.

*****

A soft whispering, at the edge of his hearing. It sounded like a voice, a familiar voice. Soft, too soft that the words could not be made out. There was a tightening over his chest, and over his face and arms he felt a cold, wet sensation. His skin was itchy, so itchy...

Ricky... Please...

*****

"Wake 'em up." A voice said, and suddenly Ricky gasped as water as cold as winter ice was thrown over him, completely drenching him from head to foot and snapping him out of his unconscious state. He would find himself tied and laying on his side, hands bound. Across from him was someone else, the old woman from before. She was awake, her eyes wide and staring at Ricky, mouth gagged... but her stare was blank, her blood already forming a pool around her.

"Get 'em up." Ricky was taken roughly by the shoulders and arms, lifted by two men to stand on his shaky feet. His head was pounding, so much so that his vision was slightly blurred and being suddenly moved made the world spin. He was face to face with someone, someone who could mean no good to come. A man with terrible burns over half his face.

"Well, good morning sunshine. I hope you slept well?" He smiled and patted Ricky's cheek with the side of a knife. The metal was cold on his skin, "There is no point in dragging this out. You are alive for one reason only. You are going to tell me where the rest of my cargo got to."

Clucking his tongue the man spun the knife between his fingers, stepping up onto the corpse of the woman and onto the other side. He looked down at the body, as if he had only just now noticed it and pointed the tip of the blade at the dead woman, "Its a shame. She was an old professor from Zeltiva, on her way to Syliras to be with her grandchildren. They are a wealthy bunch there too, would have been a nice ransom but she had to die to make a point."

He waved his knife, and another man shuffled into the light. It was now that the world suddenly became a bit clearer. Ricky was in the middle of the camp, men surrounded them on all sides. Now none other than Bofure himself waddled into the wring of torches, wiping his piggy nose as he practically drug a woman behind him. She was thin, and her hair was blonde. With an ungracious tug the fat man pulled her to her feet, grabbing her hair and forcing her head back so Ricky could see her face. she stared at Ricky, eyes wide, fear, dread, defeat all written there. It was not Telion.

Scar face pointed the knife at the new woman, eyes still looking at Ricky, "This girl is worthless. She would only catch a good price as a whore or as a sex slave in one of the cities farther north. She has no nobility or family standing to speak of. Think on this, if I killed a parcel that was of use to me, just imagine what ill do to one I don't care nothing about. I can still claim a ransom on the old woman's body, but this girl? Well, lets just say it don't matter what happens to her." He let this sink in for a few ticks, beginning to pick his nails with the edge of his knife, glancing at Ricky periodically, "Tell me where they are, or I will give this girl to every single one of my men, over and over again until her mind breaks and she wishes she were dead. Tell me, or I will make you watch as she is raped and tortured, and know it is because of you that she suffers."

He flicked his knife to the side and set it in its holster, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared daggers into Ricky's eyes, "What will it be? A bunch of slaves you don't even know or care about, or this girl's life whom you can save right now, right in front of you."

The girl never turned away from Ricky. Her eyes pleaded, begged for him to save her.

Please Ricky...

The pain was growing worse, his vision swam, and damn it all he was so itchy!

[Ricky Maze]

Ricky knew it was very well suicide to turn back when they were on their way to freedom, but he couldn't let this chance, the one petching chance, that it could be Telion in their grasp. Even if it wasn't her there was still a chance this woman could be saved, but that all depended on whether or not he could make it there and back without any trouble to follow. Thus when he heard Crowley's words as he ventured on alone, he spared only a thought in silent prayer, so that his comrade may yet find himself far away with the freed slaves before the ruffians would give chase. Whether it was fear or courage though that drove him forward now, he didn't dare to question it as all that mattered was making sure that he got there in time to save his wife.

That was when his mind seemed to fall into a daze as his vision blurred and his ears rang, the sickness within his mind disorienting him as he sweated profusely from the trip. Except of course when he started to open his eyes and come around to, everything he remembered felt so much like a dream. Deja vu. He found the two men in one moment where there was the bodies he and Crowley dispatched of, and then in but a simple blink of an eye his mind lost focus on remembering what should've transpired next. Had he been hit with something? His skin felt prickly, odd as though the surface tingled with itches. Was there some poison plant he'd come into contact with? Did he encounter something that he was allergic to? Did the brigands do something to him? His world was black for what felt like an age but it'd only been in fact a short amount of time, as he could only associate himself with feeling wet and cold all over.

As he started to finally come around to his world was still blurred, his legs weakened as though he felt pure exhaustion ready to settle in. He felt his insides practically shiver as he tried to make light of the situation at hand, only to realize he'd allowed himself to stupidly stumble right into their presence once more. He was alive, and what was worse... they wanted their "cargo" back. At this point Ricky expected to be the tortured one, the evidence present that their leader, the Scarface, meant business by the end of the night as his vision finally seemed clear once more. Though he felt pretty sure he was terrified at this point Ricky showed no signs of fear, with the cold kiss of the metal at his skin he challenged the leader with but a look in his eyes. Do your worst, as you will never get it out of me. But of course that was when he believed it was him to be the tortured one, that is until the fat ass from earlier in the night decided to show Ricky just who it was that he'd stole away in the night.

Not Telion. Though he didn't know her face he felt both relief and worry erupt in his gut, as he continued to feel his entire body ache and twinge at the surface. Shyke. What de petch is... goin' on? A question he had to worry about at a better time, Scarface had an ultimatum that was by far more concerning than the constant growth of this pain and itching... He had to choose between the lives of those he set free, and then the life of the one that was left here for him to save. Her eyes... they begged for salvation, the pleaded for safety in this dire situation. What was he to do? What could he do? She didn't deserve to suffer all these men, to endure all their insatiable lust in one night. That kind of torture presented on one, while he was made to watch, would break even the God Izurdin's spirit if he were forced against his will.

That kind of responsibility, that kind of regret; how in Mizahar could a man ever hope to bear it? No. Not Ricky. His first intent was to will Res out of his body, and force it into the very man that threatened both him and this innocent woman. She had a life and a heart, a soul that deserved to live a normal and healthy life. Not this.... dammit not this! Ricky's eyes shot from her to the other woman who was gagged, his head rang louder and louder as he tried to figure out something. What did he say? Earlier before he left Crowley to come back here, what was it he instructed Crowley to do? Head north. That's right! They were to head north and never look back, so if Ricky told this to his enemies he would've sold out his comrades for the sake of one girl...

Yew bastards 're an awful lot. He secretly admired as he started to find himself wishing Dira's worse upon them, but he still kept his composure together as he looked to the ground at first in defeat. It couldn't be helped, this was his only option. With sharp tanzanite eyes cast directly back up to Scarface, he made his condition clear in regards to telling them what they wanted to know. "Swear t' me ye'll set 'er free along wit' dis woman, let 'em go wit'out any strings attached. Oi'll tell ya what ye wanna know." He was absolute that they would reach an accord, determined to make a point that so long as she was freed after he said where to find them, then he would finally reveal where to look. Finally when that moment would come, he looked to the ground once more in utter humiliation. "We took 'em up t' a ravine not far from 'ere, hit a dead end so we 'ad t' go eit'er north o' south." Here it was, the moment of truth.....


"Oi told 'em t' continue south, while Oi came back fer dis one 'ere." He glanced over to the blonde once more, shame on his face as he tried to avoid facing his enemies at all. He felt odd giving them his information, but deep down he knew he had just lied. All he had to to was try to look convincing enough, and then hopefully everything else would just have to work out on its own. He did what they asked after all, he told them everything he knew and gave them a route to follow. Zulrav's winds carry ye swiftly Crowley, and ye'd better 'ad gone north.... He thought to himself in silence as he waited to see if his gambit had paid off.