Northgate
Two weeks before reuniting
Talith
The days were beginning to grow cold once again as a chill wedged itself down an alleyway, brushing past Talith Elinasti, a man whose physique had changed quite a bit in the past months, paced back and forth, attempting to piece information in his mind, but to no avail. He had only minutes ago dropped his old lady disguise, which he had used in an attempt to gain information regarding Granny’s Orphanage.
“Ughhh. I’ve been at this for so long and yet I’ve gotten nowhere..” Talith stops to scratch his head while placing a hand on his hip. “I still can’t quite risk marching in the place either, it’s just too risky.”
“I hope Lumotu’s okay..” Vivian, a girl that was only ever visible to Talith, expressed her genuine concern as she willed herself into existence next to Talith.
“Yeah…” Talith shakes his head. “I’m sure he’s fine. He might not be physically strong, but he’s crafty and has a way of winning people over. If anyone’s gonna be okay visiting that place, its him…. Well, assuming he still visits that is..”
“Tal, you should try to find him. You know he’s at least been there once. I—”
“We’ve been over this, Viv. I want to, but I just can’t right now..”
Vivian went silent for only a moment before, “Talith, lo—”
“I said I can’t, Vivian—”
“—No, look!” Vivian pointed down the alley and Talith’s eyes followed suit.
A cloaked figure approached him from the other end, seemingly with a purpose. To make matters worse, the figure seemed to move with a purpose and carried a shortsword just at the hip.
Under his breath, Talith let out “We might just have to escape, but if worse comes to worst, we might have to fight. Are you-”
A gust of wind brushed Talith from behind as it raced towards the cloaked, hooded figure, ever so briefly forcing the hood back before they quickly pulled it back in place. It was a woman, and absolutely stunning at that. With no hesitation, Vivian almost instantly let her words carry through the alleyway. “Talith! You see it right…?”
Talith only stared at the hooded woman as she was almost upon them. “I did… Vivian, she’s beautiful.. I think I need to marry her.”
“NO, YOU IDIOT!” Vivian collected herself. “Look at her necklace!”
Talith glanced a bit further down to reveal a familiar, yet impossible tincture hanging off a long cord. Suddenly, her beauty was far from his mind. That tincture, he’d only ever seen his friend, Danica, wear one like that before. He absolutely had to attain as much information from this girl as possible. For all he knew, this woman either received it from Danica…or took it. The woman was now nearly within arms length. The thought of Danica being harmed by this person raced through his mind, causing his next words to come out a bit more aggressive than he had intended. “Sorry, but I need you to stop, and I have some questions and you will give me answers…” Talith stepped in front of the woman, attempting to block her path.
Astarael
It had been a week, since Astarael arrived in Northgate. She had been scoping out the town, and was disappointed to learn about how extensive the presence of the Painted Swans were. They were also currently encamped just past the northern gate of Northgate, blocking the pass through the mountains to Jorung. So much for that escape plan. She laid low as best she could, hiding out in an abandoned home in the Dustown district, while she formed a new strategy.
To make matters worse, she had encountered her first wanted poster today.
Wanted Alive: Astarael Belree
Age 20
Known witch
Extremely dangerous.
Reward: 500 Gold Pieces.
The likeness of her was very good, too, despite that it was probably two years out of date. She decided to scope out a new place to hide. Better to not stay in one place too long.
She waited until the evening, and packed up the few belongings she had. As she was on her way to the new place, she encountered a handsome young man in an alleyway. The wind had just blown her hood back a bit, and she was feeling a little exposed. Suddenly, he stepped in her way, and demanded that she stop and answer some questions. Did he see her face? Did he recognize her from her poster?
Best not to find out.
Astarael, in a panic, immediately turns and starts running back the way she came. The young man begins to follow her. The narrow alleyway goes on for a bit, and she takes the first left turn she can, then the next right, with the hope that the rapid direction changes will cause him to lose her.
He always seems to keep her in sight, however, preventing her from using her invisibility spell. She’d rather not have him witness her abilities, even if she does lose him.
She takes another turn, and finds herself in a major street- but with not enough of a crowd to blend into. He’s just behind her now, so she does the only thing she can — she sprints down this main road — and right past six Painted Swans.
Talith
Talith couldn’t say he was surprised. Were he confronted with a demand by a stranger, it’s unlikely he would simply comply. Just as the woman pivoted around to flee, Vivan leaped to the other side of her with outstretched arms- an attempt to block her exit. “Don’t worry, Tal! We have her blocked!” They didn’t. The hooded figure swiftly brushed right through Vivian and Talith quickly followed suit. “Stop!” Talith demanded as he and the young woman disappeared around a corner.
Vivian only stood there for a moment before turning around and shouting, “HELLOOOO!?!? AM I INVISIBLE TO YOU PEOPLE!??” She sighed before leaping into the air, almost floating, and faded into nothing.
Talith quickly discovered that this girl absolutely had speed on her side. Had he been wearing his gear, he wouldn’t have a chance. Each time she’d turn a corner, Talith desperately fought to keep up just enough to keep her in his sights. For a while, the hooded figure seemed to be sticking to the backstreets, and there were way more than Talith would have guessed. It was the fourth corner that almost put Talith too far behind.
The girl had made a wider turn around this one than her previous turns. It was enough to keep her momentum forward as her left shoulder slightly skidded across the stone wall. Normally, it would have been enough to throw a person’s balance or momentum off, but the girl managed to push off of the wall with her right hand, negating and loss of the two. Talith wasn’t so prepared. His turn wasn’t as wide and his momentum was far too much. His attempt to round the corner too sharply resulted in his momentum throwing him off balance, slamming the left of his face into the wall as the rest of his body followed suit. He managed to push off the wall and continue, but at the cost of his speed. Luckily for him, there were no more corners as the girl now darted out to the main thoroughfare.
Fatigue was beginning to take its toll. His words came out a bit more desperate and a bit louder as he shouted, “STOP! That vial- how do you know Danica Thorne!??” That was when he noticed the Swans. More unfortunately, that’s when he’d lost his balance and crashed right into one of them, both hitting the ground. It was brief, but he got a glimpse of the swan he’d crashed into before getting up to now be the one pursued. It was a Swan he’d met before while under the guise of a child. Her name was Jerrica.
“Ah, fuck..” Talith bolted to his feet, shrugged off the swan’s attempts to grab him, and continued his sprint. He absolutely could not lose this girl and he absolutely had to lose the Swans.
**Astarael**
She hears him ask about the vial around her neck, and he says a name—Danica. Astarael does not recognise it, but could it be possible that this was the name of Eirlys’s daughter? Did this person know them, and recognise the tincture somehow? She goes to turn and ask him what he means, but in that moment, the man crashes right into a soldier.
Oh shit.
The soldiers see her, and begin to run in her direction, asking her to stop.
OH SHIT.
She hopes the man will be ok, but she has to get away quickly. She didn’t come this far just to be caught again. She dashes down the side street, towards another dark alley.
The distraction of the young man crashing into the Swan gives her a little bit of a lead, and as she turns the corner, she finds herself alone. Perfect. She reaches one hand into the pouch around her waist as she runs, and pulls out a smooth, glassy black stone. She concentrates for a second, and as she does, she disappears from view.
The noise behind her indicates that those pursuing are not far behind, however. She hurries on ahead.
**Talith**
As Talith continued from his prone position, he could hear some of the guards yelling and giving chase to the woman he was initially pursuing. Though he desperately wanted answers, he had no choice but to wait. Were he or she caught by the Swans, he’d never get what he needed. And so while she headed down a side street, Talith ran further down the main one, hoping to lose the other two Swans in the crowd. He did his best to maneuver through the bodies, but at the rate the two swans were yelling “Stop that man!” it was inevitable that someone would get the message before Talith could pass them. And so, he darted right and barged through the door of a nearby inn.
Jerrica and the other Swan soldier pushed into the inn only to find the innkeeper who was looking down the hall. The two rushed down and threw open a door which was already ajar. It seemed the most likely option as they had heard no door slam shut. As one of the Swans, a man, barreled in the room first, he was met with a less than pleasant sight.
An ancient old woman with rotting teeth and spots of scalp protruding through fading hair stood in shock, completely naked, as she did her best to cover her parts with her hands. “Don’t you young’uns knock anymore’??”
The man’s face turned green and contorted with absolute disgust. “OH— OH GODS” The man took two steps back to the entrance. “What in seven hells is that creature- put some clothes on!”
“What?? Ye ain’t ever seen a naked lady ‘fore?” The old woman screeched.
Jerrica, who stood outside the entrance, clasped her hands to her stomach as she knelt over.
“What is it, girl? What? Would ye like ta see me tits??” The old woman’s words were aggressive and full of annoyance. “Gotta tattoo in tha back if yer interested!” She laughs.
Jerrica hurls over completely, vomit covers the floor beneath her, the sheer thought alone shaking her very core. The man immediately steps back and slams the door shut when his muffled voice carries through the door. “Fucking disgusting!”
The old woman darted to the window. To her luck, outside was another back alley with currently no person in sight to see her use magic once she reappeared in the alley. She knew she didn’t have long before the guards came back in, and so within seconds, a black and white mist, which didn’t mix into gray, wrapped itself around the woman before consuming her entirely. Moments later down the back alley, a middle aged man emerged. Talith had managed to escape.
**Astarael**
Even though she’s made herself invisible, she’d still prefer to put as much distance as she can between herself and the Swans who were behind her not a moment ago. It would seem that the young man who pursued her has vanished as well.
As she rounds a corner, she looks back briefly to check and see how much of a lead she has, when she slams into someone, knocking them both to the ground.
Roux
Roux has been sucker punched before, but he usually sees it coming (and deserves it). This time, however, he doesn’t know what hit him. Literally. As he crashes to the ground in the middle of the alleyway, there’s… nothing there.
Roux sobers up quickly when a lady with long black hair flickers and materializes right in front of him.
“Invisible… lady?” Roux says to himself.
“Wait…” Again, to himself, coming to the realization that he recognizes her from a bar not too long ago.
Clavard and Seldon
It is only after the recognition of a face familiar catches hold that the clattering of boots and mail armor begins to clamor from the far end of the alley.
Clavard’s breathing is heavy through the broom of his mustache as he squints and his black eyes dart back and forth through the intersection of alleyways, latching onto the spilled forms of Astarael and Roux at the other end of the alley near the street.
“There she is! You two go that way! Find the other one!” Clavard bellows, before leaning into a sprint with the younger Private Seldon close behind.
Astarael
The impact briefly stuns Astarael, and breaks her concentration on the spell. She looks at the man she ran into, and can tell that he can see her. Uh oh. There’s no time to deal with that, however, as some noise nearby alerts her to the fact that the Swans are still coming after her, and she needs to get out of here. She quickly picks herself up and runs.
Clavard and Seldon
Astarael has already taken off in a scramble by the time Clavard leaps clean over where Roux lies in confusion, the older soldier taking off after her with the mail of his armor and kit clamoring, as he huffs through his mustache.
Seldon comes stumbling to a hesitating stop with his arms flailing in order to avoid being the second to crash into Roux and points at the half-elf after he’s caught his balance. “You! Stay there! There will be questions!” He stammers with a few stuttering steps, before taking off in a sprint after Astarael.
Roux gets a glimpse of the black haired girl ducking into an alley, before two more soldiers, Darith and Castern, come running around the corner. “The alley! The alley there!” Seldon cries out and points, with Clavard leading the chase… but Roux knows that alley. He has been that way before. It had been bricked over at the far end after the Dustown Apartment Fires.
It is a dead end.
Four Swan Soldiers. One strange girl with no way out.
Roux
He sees the urgency in her eyes. and she quickly bolts upon hearing the clatter of men in pursuit.
Soldiers careen around the corner and run past Roux in the direction the now-visible lady just fled.
Roux’s eyes narrow as he identifies them as Swans. He leaps to his feet, almost fully sober now. This is certain to end badly for her.
Clavard & Seldon
The uneven walls of the adjacent buildings seem to construct as the alley winds at peculiar angles, before blossoming into a secluded atrium created by the buildings on either side and the fresher climb of heavy bricks that close a way that should have been open.
This was a mistake and there’s no way out.
The ruckus of armor and weapons and heavy boots pour out from behind Astarael and the soldiers begin to slow and spread into a line that cut her off from escape back the way she came. There is the singing of swords being pulled from their scabbards and the tense locking of a crossbow.
“There’s no escape girl. Stay where you are. You are wanted under suspicion. Keep your hands away from that sword or you’re going to get hurt,” Clavard says and gestures with his sword, before Seldon begins to take a few steps forward toward her — the boy barely notices the curl of wind that finds its way in a manner unnatural into the alley and makes the loose snow begin to dance and swirl around the foreign girl with a slow and winding tension.
Astarael
She’s taken a wrong turn. The alleyway is suddenly closed off, and she’s trapped. She can hear the sound of the soldiers behind her. She tosses aside her pack, and turns to face them. Panic sets in.
No. No, NO. She can’t be captured. She’s come too far. She won’t be their prisoner again. She won’t go back.
She’d rather die than submit.
She makes no move to draw her sword, but takes in the scene before her. Calculating her best move.
Trying to not let the fear overwhelm her.
The Power
One might wonder if Roux can see the wind — see it toss the ink black of her hair and the trim of her cloak — the howl of her breeze that makes its way between the narrow passages perhaps a whisper and the thunder of a distant storm a thing as words — if Roux could see such things — if such a thing is even possible.
Afraid. Foolish. Weak. This is your fault.
He’s going to take her away again.
You know what you have to do.
Astarael
Her memory flashes back to the moment in the woods, when three Painted Swans set upon her in that strange, lightning struck clearing.
The day she was gifted the sword.
She barely survived that day, against three. And now four stand before her. She hears the voices, speaking to her. It’s overwhelming. Insulting her. Inciting fear. Giving direction. But they are right. It is her fault. And she does know exactly what to do.
She won’t be captured again.
In this moment, she releases the calm she was clinging to. She feels her skin begin to tingle with an electrical charge. A strange wind swirls around her, and even at night, the space around her seems to darken. Small bolts of lighting begin to crackle around her, then suddenly a bright flash emanates from the ground and up through her body. When the vision of those around her returns, she’s holding a cutlass style sword, seemingly made of lightning itself.
She says, “Try and take me!”
And charges at the nearest soldier.
Roux
Roux already has his lutebow trained on the Swan in the back when wind and lightning engulf the black-haired girl. In a flash, she’s wielding a lightning sword seemingly pulled from thin air.
From the shadows, Roux shrugs in admiration, “Invisible lady, invisible sword.”
She says, “Try and take me!”
At this, Roux lets loose the bolt. The shot won’t kill the soldier, but will take him out of the fight.
Clavard & Seldon
Seldon had trained for a moment such as this — to stand against the insidious black magic that threatened the realm and his home, but his training had not prepared him for the fear. There is wind and there is lighting and there is thunder and in the girl’s hand there is an impossible blade, a thing that cannot be, and yet it is. She is charging toward him now and he knows that he should move, knows that he should stand with his feet wide and his sword ready, but his limbs do not move.
It’s the bludgeoning impact of Clavard’s shoulder into his own that sends him stumbling to the right and there’s a flare and fan of sparks as the older soldier’s longsword connects with Astarael’s sword-that-is-not-a-sword with a parry that sends the old man stumbling — she’s fast.
“Fool-boy! Stand strong!” There are flashes of lightning that illuminate the interior of the alley as Clavard’s sword connects again with Astarael’s. “You are a soldier of the Painted Swan as your father was before you! You will not suffer a witch! Together! Stay together!”
Astarael
Suddenly, she’s not in this fight alone.
The man she had crashed into not a moment ago has rounded the corner, and as she moves to attack, he fires a bolt at the man closest to him. The soldier before her is frozen with fear, but the one next to him steps in and blocks her strike with his longsword. He stumbles a little at the force of her blow, and she continues to engage him, while he attempts to rally his troops.
The division in his attention is all she needs. His focus on her shifts for just a split second, and at that moment, she finds her opening. Astarael plunges her blade through his heart. The crackle of the lightning leaves an unpleasant burning smell in the air. He falls to the ground, and she looks to the next.
The Swans
The blade that emerges through Clavard’s back is not accompanied by blood, but rather the sound of searing flesh and the crackling of lightning — the sound of his sword clattering to the cobblestones is steel. “Painted… Swan…” the older man manages stammer, before there comes the clamoring thudding of his mail clad body to the ground.
Astarael is already stepping over Clavard’s body by the time Darith grips Seldon by the shoulder and hauls him up to his feet. “Just like training. Just think of that bounty. We’re gonna eat good tonight, Seldon,” Darith says with an easy voice, the older boy’s hand trembling as he maneuvers a step toward the witch. “It’s just like training.”
It’s Darith that charges forward to meet Astarael with quick swings of his longsword in deep wide sweeps. He is strong and he is fast, and Seldon wraps his trembling fingers around his sword and pulls it up from the ground and swallows the molasses of his fear with a tensing of his muscles. It could work.
They could win if they worked together — they could defeat the witch!
Roux
Roux’s walk up behind the shaking Swan is swift and angry, the way Arlo used to walk after him when he would get home from a long day of drinking and had decided Roux had screwed up. Without slowing, Roux knocks the Swan unconscious with the back end of his lute-bow. He then looks to the black-haired lady as she clashes with the last Swan standing.
Astarael
Astarael takes a beat to survey the scene, and sees that the soldier the mysterious man shot is down, but alive. She steps over the body of the older Swan she’s slain, and moves to meet the man with the longsword coming towards her.
He strikes first, the crackling noise of her lightning weapon and the ring of his blade hitting hers fills the air around them. Where the first man had a practiced hand that came with experience, this one has youth on his side, and is fast and strong. He’s giving her a good fight, and lands a few blows. They aren’t intended to kill, but subdue her. She’ll have some good bruises, her body aching where the flat of the blade has landed. But luck is on her side, and once again, a distraction gives her the advantage. Her unexpected ally has rendered the man who panicked unconscious.
Her assailant turns out of concern for his comrade, and in doing so, drops his guard. She takes advantage of the moment, and strikes his unprotected side. It’s not a killing blow, but he’s gravely wounded. His sword clatters away across the ground, and he falls, clutching the gash. No blood pours from him, but it looks painful all the same. She steps forward, crouches down, and places a hand on his chest.
She says, quietly, “I give you the gift of a swift death.”
Electricity flows through her hand, into the man. His eyes go wide, then his heart stops beating. His body is still.
It’s better than I ever expect to receive.
She stands up, and looks to the man who came to her aid.
“You left them alive. They have witnessed what I can do. They can’t be allowed to get the word out that I’m in the city.”
She moves closer to them, her sword at the ready.
Roux
Roux stands over the crumpled body of the young Swan and watches the woman conjure lightning from her hand to kill the gravely injured soldier. As she gets up and moves toward him, he notices a small, familiar vial swinging from a cord around her neck. It’s the same Danica used to wear.
He closes his eyes… and listens… but it’s not the same. Beautiful and chaotic.
He opens his eyes and extends his hand to slow the now much closer woman.
“They already know you’re here. And what you can do.” Roux gestures to the lightning sword that’s uncomfortably close at this point.
“That’s why they’re after us, right?” He says with an eyebrow raise.
“These kids aren’t our enemy,” nodding down to the fresh-faced boy beneath him. “But if you come with me, we’re going after those who are.”
Roux looks at the black-haired woman, smiles like he isn’t at the point of a crackling sword of lightning, surrounded by death, and hopes for the best…
Astarael
She doesn’t like it. But he’s probably right. They will figure out she’s here anyways. She’s also intrigued by what he’s said.
After US.
OUR enemy.
We’re going after those who are.
Hmm.
“Ok.” she says. “There were more guards in this group. Some ran after the man who was pursuing me earlier. I expect they may bring more this way.”
Her sword vanishes, and picks up her pack and cloak.
“We should go.”
Roux
Roux hefts the lute-bow resting on his shoulder onto his back and shifts his outstretched hand from a hold position to a handshake.
Astarael
As Astarael moves forward, she notices some bruises on his face, and the slight point of his ears through his hair. She laughs a little.
“I remember you, from the bar the other night. I suppose if I’m going to crash into someone, then have them save me from a dire situation, it might as well be a person with a lot of fighting experience.”
She shakes his hand.
“I’m Astarael.”
Roux
“Roux. And I’m pretty sure you didn’t need savin’ from me.” Roux looks away towards a sudden clamor a few alleys over, then turns back with a smirk. “Tell me, Astarael, can you run as fast as you can kill?”
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