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[Noven]

Prompt :

#3

Fall, Day 42, 514AV

He waited until the Isur's footsteps retreated a good distance away from the door. Then he sprang into action, throwing off the wool blanket to put on his Ramies, coat, and boots.

The last time Noven played hooky he'd been somewhere around seventeen and his head filled with all kinds of boyish, shyke nonsense. But things were different now. Seventeen felt a thousand leagues away, and when he had feigned sickness this morning, going so far as to break himself into a sweat by finishing a hundred push ups moments before Jillene had knocked on his door, his reasons had nothing to do with girls or getting piss drunk by noon.

Fully dressed and ready to go, Nov snuck up to his door to make sure his landlady had truly left. Satisfied upon hearing nothing out in the hall, he opened the latch slowly and inched his head out just enough to get a view of both ends.

No signs of the Isur. All clear.

He slipped out of his apartment as quietly as he could, taking care not to step on loose floorboards. Which was a bit of a feat, given almost all of the floorboards were loose, but the cook did his best. He gave a cursory check down the stairs as well just in case before descending. Stairs were the trickiest part of all, and it wouldn't do to give himself away before even reaching the first floor.

Jillene wanted him no where near the endless stream of so-called informants that plagued her doors every day. She made that explicitly clear. As in threatened to knock his head to the Kalean mountains and back if he so much as tickled one of the fakes or charlatans.

Noven worked hard to be a man of his word. It was all he really had in a place full of deceit, treachery, and violence. But this was one promise he was going to have to break, threats or no threats. When he'd learned of the missing orphans two nights ago, the Isur had him physically restrained, locking him in a broom closet until he promised to calm down and not get himself killed looking for the kidnappers. It took Nov a better part of a bell to agree, and that was only after he'd exhausted both his strength and creativity in rage-fueled swearing, destroyed half the brooms in the closet, mops included, and bloodied all of his knuckles in attempting to beat down the door with his bare hands.

When Jillene released him from his temporary prison, Nov was all reason and cooperation. But he hadn't slept since that same night and his knuckles were thirsting for more than just his own blood. If ever there was a more apt moment in which Krysus could swell with pride for her delightful little pet, it was then.

Hell bent as he was, however, the man knew he couldn't do it alone. He would need help. Eyes and ears, as well as perhaps an extra fist or two. There were some he wanted to be kept away from such business, like Kechaiya, Mira, and Koruma, and others he wasn't entirely sure ought to be involved but at the same time could not deny their aid. This was going to be a bloody sort of business and beggars couldn't be choosers.

Pausing mid step to confirm that it was in fact Jillene's voice he heard at the front door, wasting her time with yet another charlatan, Nov brought his focus back to the present. Yep, that was her alright. And, from the sound of things, her patience was faring no better than his.

Letting loose a slow breath, the cook crept out from the back to emerge into a forlorn little alleyway. He kept walking until he was behind Sunset's main apartment building, which shared a wall with the orphanage, and rounded a corner into a dank little niche filled with all kinds of unwanted junk. This was where he usually brought out barrels of refuse and other unsalvageable shyke. But today, instead of either, two neatly strung up bundles lay squirming in the grime.

Both Daggerhands stared up at Noven in dread. They were properly gagged and bound and had been stored here for half of the night. The merc had found them stumbling around well into the 4th bell, singing bawdy, drunken songs and making cracks about children and slaves as they passed by the orphanage.

Nov leered down at them, hands tucked casually in his pockets. "You lads are in for a treat."

As soon as his colleagues showed up, the fun would begin.

[Caela Dorin]

.

"I'll do whatever I can to help you get the orphans back. I don't care if I have to rip people's heads off."

If there were ever words that she regretted saying those were certainly them. They were words that had drawn her into something that she shouldn't have been a part of. After the orphans had gone missing two nights ago, after all of the main racket was over the dancer had found herself helping to check numbers, to see how many were missing. Not missing but stolen, taken in the night. Those words had been spoken to Jillene as she stood beside a broom closet with a screaming and furious Noven. Words that had now came back to bite her.

She was to be helping to extract information from anyone who might actually have some inkling of where the children had ended up. The young woman assumed that that extraction would involve torture in some shape or form. The idea was a nauseating one, especially when she recalled the state of the body that had been left lying against her door earlier in the season. If it wasn't for the cook, she would have been lumbered with the thing for goodness knew how long and as much as the idea of dealing out pain was a frightening one, it was something that probably needed to be done. Her involvement was necessarily a requirement though.

Grow a backbone for gods' sakes! the blonde admonished herself as she dressed simply. In case there was blood involved - a thought that made her shudder - she'd opted for clothes that could be thrown away if necessary, that were easily replaced: white blouse, dark pants and high boots. Her dagger was sheathed at her hip, prominently on display and she had no plans to hide it either; she wasn't planning on wearing her cloak. She was all she needed to get ready but the young woman put off going all the same. The idea of walking into gods knew what sort of situation wasn't a fun one. Ten chimes was all she was able to hold out for before her mind forced her from the room with thoughts of her cowardice on her mind.

Her steps were unrushed as she made her way to the meeting place that she'd been told. Back of the apartments, Jillene wasn't to know. If Noven was planning on extracting any information on what was basically the Isur's doorstep then surely she was going to hear something. Unless of course it was only a meeting place. Of course, it would be. It wasn't like he was going to have victims squirreled away at the back of the place.

The short time it took to make the trip to the Orphanage was used to calm her nerves. It's for the good of the children. It'll only be done to scumbags and they'll have it coming to them. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to feel sick about. Just getting what's coming to them. Still her stomach roiled and her palms sweated as she drew nearer and nearer to something that she dreaded. The front of the Orphanage came into sight, Jillene there talking to someone and it was the first time that she was actually glad that the proprietress was blind. She couldn't see Caela slip behind the building to meet the cook and goodness who else. Was anyone else going to be involved? She didn't know but she hoped there would be. If she had to get her hands dirty, she didn't want to be the only one and it might just lessen the burden of guilt afterwards. She hoped that she'd be able to look back and think that she hadn't done all that much.

There was no sign of the man in the alleyway that she'd entered but she walked quietly along it, expecting the cook to appear at any moment. Her feet carried her to the entrance of another space, a niche and it was there that she found him. He wasn't alone but he didn't have the sort of company that she would have liked. It seemed that he had brought his victims to Jillene's doorstep after all. Her eyes went from the two bound and gagged men who gazed at her apprehensively to Noven who held himself so calmly in their presence. She remembered his swearing fury in the closet and reminded herself that he had his reasons for doing this, the woman wasn't to think badly of him for doing this. It didn't stop him from being petching scary all the same and he hadn't even done anything yet!

"Noven." Her voice was soft, calm despite her thinking that it should have been shaking and she nodded in greeting. Her gaze rested on him briefly before returning to the men on the ground, trying to keep her expression impassive. Nobody had to know how terrified she was and hopefully nobody would as long as her mask didn't slip or her sweat drenched hands didn't give her away.

.

[Arlana]

All everyone could talk about was the missing children – and the lack of food too. It seemed like Sunberth was persistently cursed by Lhex lately. It was one trouble after the other. And Arlana could only watch from the sidelines and when things went down. That was how she preferred things to be – a distance away from her.

But it seemed like this time she would be dragged into the ordeal.

She was contacted, asked to meet in a certain alley near her old home. Arlana was not entirely sure what it was all about, but she knew it at least had something to do with the children. Nonetheless, the young thief wasn’t quite sure what to expect. At first, she wasn’t about to answer the call, preferring to stay out of the trouble. But curiosity got the best of her and so, the young woman set off.

The capture of children from their own home. Where they thought they were safe. Even if she didn’t want to admit it, the event had hit too close to home for Arlana – both literally and figuratively. The Orphanage had been awful place when she was younger, but at least she didn’t have to fear for her life while she was standing under its familiar roof. The capture itself reminded her just too much about she had lost her brother to slavers. They were young then. She couldn’t even imagine how they would feel, how her brother felt when he realized what was happening.

Arlana had been thinking about her past a lot lately. Way too much. A long time ago, she had learned how to shut it all away, to simply act like nothing was wrong. It worked for years, but she feared her dam was starting to crack now, threatening to flood her with despair. It was stupid how she still cared so much after so long. If she was being realistic, her family would most likely be dead by now. But her foolish heart refused to believe, still hanging on the tatters of hope.

In a twisted logic that made sense only to her, maybe looking the children would mean there was still a chance for her to find her lost twin – no matter where he was. If Arlana could help find these children, maybe . . . maybe Lhex would also be so kind to reunite her with her family one day.

That was enough to spur the young woman to traverse through the streets of Sunberth on an empty stomach. At some point, Arlana decided to climb one of the squat houses and then continuing her journey from the higher vantage. At least this way, there was less chance of someone jumping on her and trying to steal something. These days, the mere presence of a blade strapped to her belt was not enough to keep the desperate ones away. She wondered how much time it would take for her to become one of them.

It didn’t take long for her to reach the meeting point. Arlana stood perched atop the roof of the building that shaped the alley way, glancing down at the pair that had arrived before her. One was the familiar figure she had seen since her childhood, the other was a pretty young woman who seemed slightly out of place. Two men were tied up and gagged, eyes full of confusion and apprehension. They probably couldn’t understand why they were captured.

“Hey, Nov. Been some time,” the young thief called from above, not caring if she startle them. Arlana wasn’t quite sure what her role would be in this whole ordeal, but she was certainly interested in seeing how things would play out. It would certainly be a pleasant distraction from the constant hunger plaguing her. “What you got there?” Arlana then turned to the woman. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

“Speech.” “Hypnotism.”

[Mirian Jade]

Justice.

It was a funny word to Mirian, even when she didn’t say it out loud and instead let it lie dormant in her mind. Justice was not a word for Sunberth. At least, not in the traditional sense.

To her, justice was a reactionary concept. Justice could not exist on its own. Injustice, on the other hand, was everywhere, and was a concept easy enough for her to define. Injustice: when one does wrong to another and that wrong goes unrighted. Justice was the act of righting that wrong.

That was what separated humans from animals, she thought. If an animal wronged another, the victim would not seek justice against the other. No, that animal would continue on, cover for the loss until it could find its own chance to deal injustice when it suited them. The pursuit of rightness, the seeking of justice, was what separated men and women from common beasts.

It was no wonder that Sunberth was always called a den of beasts.

Mirian was not a romantic. She had never though of herself as any better or worse than those she stole from, or those that stole from her. It wasn’t a matter of “right” or “wrong,” it was a matter of survival. You did what you could to continue existing, taking advantage of others if it meant another day breathing and on the lookout for others ready to do the same to you. Good and evil were pointless to even ponder.

Until a few days ago, Mirian had thought herself a person without justice; if wishes and dreams were satin and seams, everyone would dress like a king. Such things were useless to her, and the idea of “justice” wasted energy that could be better spent finding herself five-finger discounts. If someone had told her beforehand that she would ever set out seeking justice, she would have laughed in their face. Well, not if they had a purse for her to steal, but that was beside the point.

The point was that she was looking for orphans.

She wasn’t one of those deep thinkers that pondered the meaning of morality, it was true. She didn’t question the stars or the nature of beauty or shyke like that; she was Sunberthian, and after her years on these streets and between these alleys she had learned to follow her gut. And now, her gut was telling her to avenge, to right that which had been wronged because… well, just because. She couldn’t have explained it, she couldn’t have justified it, but it was something she needed to do.

Part of it was the fact that she owed Noven a favor. Perhaps not by his standards–she’d helped him cook that dinner as payment for his help, after all––but he had fed her in turn, showed a calm, tough sort of kindness that was rare in the city of chaos. Part of it was for Thomas, because even a child looking at her like she was something of importance could go a long way, and this was his home that had been threatened.

And part of it was for the baby, as much as she hated to admit it. A tiny, innocent creature that had no power, strength or possessions beyond that which it was given by other people. A creature that had never done wrong or served injustice, a creature that was completely incapable of such things. A pure, unspoiled creature that needed protecting.

A creature that hadn’t been protected.

The time and location had been specified to her, and she didn’t waste time when the sun descended. When she left her house, she wore her dagger openly on her hip and wrapped her scarf around her face, unwilling to be seen on her way to the rendezvous point. She kept somewhat to the side of the streets, far enough that she wouldn’t be obvious but distant enough from the walls themselves that alley lurkers would have to reveal themselves before snatching at her.

The Orphanage was her first marker. She didn’t approach the building proper, although she scanned the area around it for suspicious characters. If there was anything that she hated to think about, it was another attack on the Orphanage.

Around she went, past the Orphanage and to a corner to where the largest housing complex lay in all its ramshackle lack of glory. She crossed the street to find the right alley, cautiously drawing her dagger and making her way through. Soon enough she heard the rustling of cloth on… something else, and she rounded a corner to spy two, four… no, five figures, including the one on the roof.

Noven was the most immediately recognizable, standing quietly over two men bound up on the ground. Was that where they would be finding their information today? Anger flared up inside her unexpectedly, bright and hot, and her grip tightened unconsciously around her dagger. If Noven was going to interrogate them, did that mean that they had anything to do with the captures in the first place?

No, she needed to become calm. And control her investment into this affair. She didn’t like the fact that she cared so much, and it was something she needed to rein in.

The second standing figure, however, was one she recognized, and Mirian blinked in surprise.

“Caela?” she asked. The dancer was not someone she would have expected to come to something like this.

Realizing that she had been lingering, Mirian sheathed her weapon and stepped farther into the little cranny Noven had chosen for them.

“I’m here, Noven,” she said, temporarily dropping the oddity of Caela’s presence. “What do you need?”

[Noven]

Soft footsteps approached. Noven remained where he stood, moving only to cock his head to one side as his hostages tensed at the noise. All of the junk in the alleyway muted most sounds to echo-less thumps and scrapes. Which was just the way the cook liked it.

A familiar voice called his name. He recognized it as Blondie's and turned his face a fraction to greet her with a nod. "Mornin', Caela."

The two men at his feet darted their eyes toward each other, then to their captor, then to the gorgeous blonde, then back to their dumbstruck compatriot in victimhood. Nov could hear their thug-brained thoughts as clear as if they were being shouted out loud through their gags.

First things first. Boobs. Both men were probably so distracted by Caela's appearance they failed to grasp she had just said their captor's name for all to hear. A dozen different ways she could be used had likely frolicked through their scum encrusted brains before either realized neither stranger had bothered to hide their identities. And that in itself was enough to send their manhoods shriveling inward. Even the likes of these lowlife stooges understood.

They were going to die.

Which effectively served as good of a preamble as any to the interrogation about to follow. There was no need for Noven to cajole, reason, and finally threaten his victims. Whoever their bosses were, whether or not they had families, so on and so forth, mattered for shyke. These men knew they weren't going to live past serving their uses; their only hope was to give what was wanted so they could die a quick and relatively painless death.

Or so the cook hoped that was what was going on in their piggy little heads. Thugs were still thugs. And these Daggerhand lackeys no less. They weren't going to exactly go down in a glorious shower of honor, upholding their loyalty till their last, dying breaths. But they weren't going to make it easy either.

A second, even more familiar voice broke him from his mental churnings. Nov looked up and saw it was none other than the crafty, sneaky thief and fellow orphan, Arlana. He hadn't seen her much since last Winter and therefore harbored no ideas as to what the woman had been up to, but all the same Noven was glad. Now was a time for allies. He called, she had answered. Having her on his side was good enough.

"That it has, kiddo," the cook replied with a grin. "You and I are gonna talk about that later. But for now, I've got me some information to be spilled."

Both bound victims simultaneously gulped. They couldn't see who the second newcomer was, but it sounded female again and things were taking even more confusing turns for the worse.

For them, anyway.

And then a third voice came. This time, it was that of the dark eyed, gilded skin lass, Jade. Of all those who had answered his summons, Noven was the least surprised by hers. She'd grown strangely attached to that babe she dragged in from the rain less than a fortnight ago. Thomas as well, interestingly enough, and much to the boy's ever increasing infatuation. And when news came of the kidnappings...well, suffice it to say her feelings seemed to transcend into something much more motivational.

"Jade," the man nodded, "for now, what I need is pretty simple."

He looked to Caela, then to Arlana. "I need eyes, above all else. Arlana, you seem to be in a good spot already. You can roam a bit up there, let us know if anyone is headed our way. Especially the Boss lady--you catch so much as a whiff of her and you come warn us. She can't know any of us are here."

It didn't even merit the effort to imagine what Jillene would do to them if she found out they'd kidnapped two Daggerhands and were about to question them bloody. "Caela," Nov continued, turning to face the blonde fully, "I'll need you somewhere near the entrance to this alley. If Arlana warns us and we aren't able to get out in time, it'll be your job to distract the hell out of whoever's coming our way. Unless it's someone out to kill us, of course. In which case you have to either hide or come back here so we can fight."

Earlier in the season, Nov might've suggested she just make a run for it. But they'd been training. Caela was capable now of holding her own.

"And Jade..." he added, gazing evenly at the fourth member of their dream team. "You'll be staying here. In case anything goes wrong on this end."

Noven had seen the girl was armed. Good. He was going to need a backup pair of offense, should one of the victims manage to break free or cause a ruckus. And it wouldn't hurt for Jade to learn a thing or two about making men talk at blade point. Or, the cook was forced to admit to himself, wouldn't hurt her as much as it might the others. The lass had a bit of iron to her--or ruthlessness, whichever you wanted to call it--and Nov could tell Caela was frightened. Determined and brave, but terrified all the same. And he'd already dragged Arlana into a hell hole once, getting his childhood acquaintance nearly killed. He didn't want to risk that again, not without knowing where she'd been all this time first.

But, most importantly, there was the issue of his mark. And that was a closely guarded secret he wished for none of them to know. Rumors had been spreading of an interrogator marked by Krysus showing up somewhere in town. The more he heard of this enigma, the more Nov grew sure these rumors were not about him personally. But the knowledge was damning enough. If anyone so much as suspected him, he was good as finished.

The man was horribly limited in his options no matter which way he turned. If it was a matter of trust, he might have chosen Arlana. But yet again there was the fact that she'd been gone for nearly a year and no way of anyone except her knowing why. He didn't quite expect treachery, but the lass might very well have enough of her own burdens to deal with. And as much as Caela had progressed, she was no street brawler yet. She would be put in the most amount of danger. Which, for now, left Jade, whom he felt no less apprehensive about exposing his curse to, but what choice did he have?

Decisions made, the cook waited for his accomplices to move into position before crouching down in front of his two, trembling victims.

"So, fellas," he leered again, removing his gloves to tuck them safely into a coat pocket. "Who wants to go first?"

[Caela Dorin]

.

He returned her greeting calmly as if they'd only bumped into each other on the street as opposed to in some back alley with bound men at their feet. It wasn't Noven that interested her that much though but the men themselves, wondering who they were and why they were here. They seemed interested in her too but for very different reasons. They'd been captured, they were going to face gods knew what and what were they concerned about? Staring at her breasts. She made a noise of disgust, shaking her head in disbelief. Men were truly exasperating creatures. These guys didn't even know where their priorities should lie.

There was a change then as the situation seemed to register in their heads and saw the realisation and horror in their eyes. She almost felt sorry for them. There they were listening to two people greeting each other as friends and they weren't going to get as nice a treatment. They were no doubt going to be tortured until the information was beaten or bled out of them and then... what?

She hadn't considered it before but it now seemed glaringly obvious. The men had heard their names, had seen their faces and would know them again if they saw them. They couldn't be allowed to live, they were going to have to be killed. The blonde blinked, the horror of it sending a chill slide down her spine. The men had probably come to the same conclusion and no doubt faster than Caela had.

Before she had much of a chance to dwell on the fate of the men at her feet, a voice came from somewhere above. She looked up searching for the source and found a young woman standing on the roof. Herself and Noven seemed familiar with each other as well although they appeared to know each other better than the dancer and the cook did. Not that she hadn't learned more from Kechaiya about the cook since their training session. This newcomer was strange to her though and she simply nodded towards her. This wasn't the time for making friends and so she wasn't in the mood for being chatty, especially as she wasn't sure just how well her voice would hold up this time.

Her attention turned back to their captives, wondering how long they were supposed to wait. Were they waiting for many more? The blonde had no idea but she wasn't sure if she wanted this to be drawn out or if she wanted this torture think to go ahead as soon as possible.

Another voice broke into her reverie, the sound of her name making her turn in surprise. "Jade?" She sounded as surprised as the brunette did. She hadn't expected to see her here but then it was surprising enough that she was here herself. It was interesting that she had another link with the cook, even if it was merely through a woman who she'd become briefly acquainted with. Small world.

Jade's arrival was apparently setting things in motion at last, Noven outlining what he needed them to do. Arlana, the woman on the rooftop was to stay there and act as look out and Caela was to act as lookout for this alley's entrance. She wasn't going to have to get her hands dirty. She repressed a sigh, not wanting to show her relief so obviously to everyone. She nodded instead, waiting just a few moments to see if there were any more instructions for her before she moved to her position. As soon as she was sure that nobody could see her expression, she allowed the relief to show on her face.

Retracing her steps from before, the dancer came to the alley entrance and leaned against the wall. She looked lazily around the corner, her body relaxed as she surveyed everything around her briefly. If anyone saw her they'd probably be more than a little interested in why she was lounging where she was without any apparent purpose. Had the cook not considered that? She was far from inconspicuous but he was going to be counting on that in part. Anyone who showed interest might be too absorbed with her to go snooping around to see what Noven and Jade were doing. She sincerely hoped that nobody would take the time to bother with her.
.

[Arlana]

Arlana pressed her lips slightly at Nov's light reply. Somehow, she had hoped that no one would notice her sudden disappearance. There weren't that many people she knew well enough for them to notice. Even if someone did, she certainly did not expect it to be the Orphanage cook. She did not tell anyone when she had left the city, no one crossed her mind.

If Nov decided to ask further, Arlana was not entirely sure what she would say. Fortunately, it was not suitable time to talk about her personal matters. They were here to reach a clear goal and that occupied their minds.

The thief nodded at the cook's instruction and straightened. It was not like she was atop a tall building, but it did give her a further range of sight. A part of her was disappointed that she was kept away from the main action, but the rest of her assured her that it was a good thing. Watching an interrogation was not something to look forward too. Truth be told, she simply could not imagine Nov torturing these men along with the other woman. They certainly did not seem like the type.

Of course, she could be perfectly wrong. No one was as they seem. As a morpher, Arlana should know it best. She was the one who could wear somebody else's face and trick people into believing she was someone she was not. Everyone had their own mask and something to hide - even the purest of being.

For the hundredth time, she imagined people discovering her magic. Their hatred blazing from their eyes, blades held up and preparing to slay her.

Arlana banished the thought as she walked over to the edge of the roof. Her eyes scanned the streets that twisted and turned under her, trying to make sure no one was particularly interested in their little event down the alley.

“Speech.” “Hypnotism.”

[Mirian Jade]

Caela seemed to recognize her, and Mirian sent a dazed nod her way. As odd as it was to see the dancer here––back-alley interrogations were not at all what she would have imagined Caela doing in her off-time––there were other things to take care of right now.

Noven gave her a cursory greeting and began his instructions. First was the woman on the roof above them, apparently called Arlana. A rooftop lookout, then, meant to watch from a place the rest of them couldn’t a spot things coming from as far away as possible.

Caela was to be a lookout as well, watching from the ground as well as serving as their first line of defense. Or possible their first line of stalling; whichever worked best if the occasion should come.

As for her… it seemed that Mirian would be remaining here with Noven, assisting him in the interrogation itself. She inclined her head solemnly in understanding.

Caela left to take up her position.

So did Arlana.

That left Jade and Noven alone with their two informants.

As the cook came to crouch beside the bound men, Mirian made her own trip around them examining each up close. They were terrified, skin raw beneath the bindings and mouths quiet beneath the gags, but there was still a certain toughness in their eyes. Mirian didn’t know who they were or where they had come from, but she could see well enough that they were used to a life of hard knocks.

She herself wasn’t an experienced interrogator, so she didn’t make any moves towards them that Noven didn’t ask her to. Instead, she took up a position opposite of the cook, on the men’s other side; if one of them got loose and tried to run, there would be someone waiting to catch him in either direction he could flee.

Without much else to do beyond observe and wait for further instructions, Mirian chose to unsheathe her knife, more out of any intimidation factor she might lend and any real desire for security. She held it loosely, switched grip, stopped to play with the blade, switched grip again, drew her finger along the blunt edge––nothing particularly productive, but it passed the time. And maybe, just maybe it would do something to help Noven’s work.

[Noven]

The cook showed no reaction as Jade unsheathed her blade. He merely widened his leer, as if affirming everything the two goons were currently imagining.

One of them looked like they had an answer ready. Taking this as good a sign as any for the interrogation to begin, Nov reached out and yanked the gags out from both men.

To their credit, his captives maintained most of their composure and allowed fear to travel no farther than their eyes. "Go petch yourself," one of them spat. "And your demon spawn whores, too." The man cackled and leered back, showing an impressive array of rotten, blackened teeth. He was the older and more ballsy of the two, though neither appeared to be past their thirties.

Trembling like a rabbit caught in a bramble, his companion said nothing. Goon the Younger just stared up at his captors, doing his best to put on similar bravado and failing miserably at it. Nov almost pitied the guy.

Almost. But not really.

"For Shame. That's no way to talk in front of a lady," the merc tsk'd, shaking his head. He withdrew one of his own daggers and tapped it gently against Goon the Elder's knee. Tough old bugger didn't even flinch. "Now, normally how this would go is I break the talker first before I get to the weakest link. Right?"

Noven sounded almost congenial in tone, but a darkness had been cast over his eyes, slowly draining them of any human light. As he spoke, he moved the tip of the Tamo over and tapped it against Goon the Younger's knee this time. The boy flinched instantly. Nov rubbed at his chin with a look that all but said, Yeah, definitely going to save you for last. Except, that wasn't his intention. Not after he'd noticed something crucial. Something he'd been able to identify because he, too, once possessed this burden--privilege--shackle--whatever you wanted to call it. But that was a long, long time ago.

And he'd abandoned his in fear of this very same occasion.

The older thug's look of superficial smugness was starting to waver. Why ask this question if it wasn't exactly the maniac's intention? Instead of answering with another snarky retort, he just scowled.

Nov angled his dagger so that the pointed end sank partway through Goon the Younger's trousers. He hadn't cut skin yet, but he sliced away at the cloth one, painstaking inch at a time, until the cook had about half of his victim's pasty, hairy calf exposed. Both captives found their eyes widening in disbelief, one whimpering as he stared down at his exposed flesh, the other not quite ready to believe his ruse hadn't worked.

"I admit, I'm not much of an artist," Noven stated somberly, propping his chin on one hand as it twirled his dagger-point in circles above the exposed leg. "But we'll start with places people don't see often first, then work our way up to fingers, neck, face..."

He pointed the tip of his blade at each area casually as he named them. "What can I say? I'm a considerate guy. And who knows, maybe we don't even have to get that high up. There's still a detour to cover midway."

Goon the Younger squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head back and forth. As if that would do him any good.

"He's just a boy," the older thug croaked. "He doesn't know anything."

Nov grinned up at both of them. "Exactly."

------------Meanwhile, at Sunset Orphanage------------

"Where is that insufferable cook when you need him?" Jillene muttered under her breath as she herded some wayward orphans back into their rooms. There was an entire sack of refuse to be dumped and not a single staffer in sight. Frankly, the Isur was tired of this food shortage being used an excuse. And she was so weary...so helpless and broken-hearted and infuriated all at once by their increasingly nightmarish situation.

But mourning was reserved for the dead. And as far as she was concerned, there were no dead to grieve over yet.

Hauling the sack of refused over one, deceptively strong shoulder, the proprietress shuffled out of the kitchen doors and toward the back alley where they usually dumped their refuse.

[Caela Dorin]

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The blonde found herself keeping an ear open for sounds coming from where she had left Mirian and Noven. They presumably didn't want to draw attention to themselves but surely someone being tortured would make some sort of sound? They'd have to do something to muffle them or else Jillene or someone else would get wind of what they were doing but yet Caela still strained to hear something. Torturing someone would have been horrible but the fact that she knew that it was going on and could hear nothing of it was somehow worse.

A soft tapping noise reached her ears and her body stiffened, imagining the cook breaking one of the men's knee caps and wincing with each sound. It grew progressively louder and she realised that it couldn't be the torture that she was hearing at all. It wasn't what she'd imagined at all but the sound of someone's footsteps. The blonde gasped at the realisation and glanced around her wildly, searching for the source of the sound. She looked up to see if it was the woman Arlana that she was hearing as she moved around on the roof but of course she wasn't there. The sound was coming from ground level.

It wasn't long before the small form of the Isur appeared with a sack slung over one shoulder as she made to walk by the place that the dancer was standing. The sack over her shoulder was like one of the ones she'd seen in the area that she'd just left Noven and Jade. Jillene was going to walk right into the middle of what they were doing! Caela doubted that the proprietress of the Orphanage was the very last person that the cook wanted to discover what he was up to right now. The blonde thought quickly, trying to come up with an excuse to keep the woman occupied. Her breathing increased and she fidgeted as she prepared to approach the Isur.

The woman slowed as she passed the dancer, looking around with a puzzled expression, blank eyes seeming to rove over the blonde where she stood. It was like she knew that she was there although she seemed ready to continue on, something that Caela couldn't allow her to do.

"Hello, Jillene!" she chirped enthusiastically, moving to stand behind the other woman. The other was forced to turn to follow the sound and so turned her attention away from where the torturing was going on up ahead. Eyebrows were raised over blank eyes and her mouth opened a little in surprise.

"Caela?" she hazarded. The blonde nodded automatically, forgetting that the other couldn't see her. "Why are you skulking around back here? This is where we dump our rubbish, not somewhere I'd expect to find you. Care to explain?"

"I went for a walk and I... I saw a cat! Yeah, there was a cat, a big mangy tom cat and I didn't think you'd want it skulking around so I chased it back here and onto the roof!" the dancer blurted out, mentally screaming at herself for coming up with such a stupid explanation. Jillene was going to think that she was nuts and send her on her way.

"You were chasing a tom cat?" she asked skeptically. "Do you expect me to believe that? What are you really doing back here? I have other things on my mind right now and I don't have patience for this. I work with children, do you think I can't spot tall tales and lies?"

Caela was panicking. She blurted out the only thing that came to mind, something that was a little too close to what was going on. "Noven! I... I..." The woman trailed off, an idea occurring to her. All she had to do was do a little bit of acting. If she could seem embarrassed then it might be believable. She was already embarrassed by her own stupidity so it might just be possible for her to pull it off, especially as the woman couldn't see her facial expressions. She only had to fake the right things in her voice.

"I... Don't tell him because... I don't want him to know. It's a little embarrassing and it's going to sound really stupid. I just wanted to see him without him seeing me. He's with Kechaiya and I couldn't talk to him now, it'd kill me! I've been walking around the Orphanage, hoping I'd seen him but I haven't. Please don't tell him!" the blonde hissed, a note of desperation in her voice. "It sounds pathetic, doesn't it?"

The blind woman's expression became thoughtful and she slowly nodded. She seemed to believe what the dancer was telling her, which meant that she should have allayed any suspicions that she might have. "I haven't seen him, that's why I'm out here with this. You won't see him so you can move along and not show up back here again. I don't think Noven would appreciate knowing that he has a stalker, understand?" The woman turned to continue on to her dumping ground and Caela had to interrupt her quickly to try to turn her away.

"It won't happen again, Jillene. Don't worry. Are you... leaving that bag somewhere? Did you want me to dump it somewhere for you? I'm sure that you have other things to be doing. I'll leave afterwards, you know." She fell under the scrutiny of the sightless eyes once more and she found herself gulping, although she hoped it wasn't audible. The scrutiny continued for a chime and the blonde started sweating, looking up towards where the torturing was taking place. She offered a silent prayer to any god who might help her pull off her trickery without a hitch.

The sack was pulled off from the woman's shoulder and held out to Caela. "It's heavy and full of rubbish. Do you think that you can handle it?" she asked, the bag held out to the blonde who reached out to take it. It was heavy and a sound of surprise left it as it was taken from the Isur.

"I can manage it. I don't mind a bit of weight. It'll help me build muscle. Where does it need to go?"

"There's a turn off up there, a dead end full of bags. I'm sure that you'll find it all right." The woman didn't move but instead seemed to wait for Caela to carry it off. Shyke, she was going to have to walk down there and warn Noven that her cover seemed to be blown for the time being. She started to walk off to where Noven and Jade were, looking back as she went. Jillene remained in the same spot, looking after the dancer. The young woman kept her pace even as if she wasn't in a hurry although inwardly she was freaking out.

She slipped into the area where the refuse was dumped and froze, taking in the scene before her. She couldn't help but stare, thoughts stopped and forgotten for a few moments before she managed to shake herself. "Your boss has caught me. She shouldn't come down here but I might have to pretend I'm going home so I won't be able to be on guard for a couple of chimes. Got any other ideas?" she asked, eyeing the man's victims.

.