Redheaded Stepchildren

The rocky expanse upon which the trio sat provided little in the way of shelter. It seemed though that the sorcerers had elected not to follow them to this side of the mountain. For at least that much, the young man of ivory skin and ebon hair was glad about as he looked upon his wounded friend with concern. Mystrus hadn't regained consciousness yet. They were close enough to the lifestream to where Nespian had thought he might be able to heal her within it. Second thoughts crossed the back of his mind for reasons he himself was unable or unwilling to explain. He looked down at the blade he had looted from the boy in the skirmish above. True to his word he had not looted it from a corpse. The boy was young enough to realize the error of his ways and turn from his life of crime, so Nespian had let him live. His primary concern at the time had been trying to stop the vagabond and red ribboned woman from hurting Mystrus any further. Nespian continued to stare down at his battle prize unsure of what the words etched upon the blade meant, but sure only that going forward its use would be for far nobler pursuits. He sighed as he set the large blade aside and looked down at the pale form of Mystrus as her companion Visha continued to swirl vigilantly about whispering words to which Nespian had no way of understanding. There was something about the creature he didn't trust. Hell, he wasn't even sure that he trusted Mystrus nor himself these days. 

'How are you today?' Nespian muttered under his breath, placing two fingers to the side of Mystrus' temple. If she were unable to communicate outside of her mind, perhaps she might be able to from within. He didn't even realizing that this time there was no burning sensation upon contact as he set his mind to work finding hers. 

A little bird told me

It was happening just like that as the old man had said the clans would get together and unite.  Pheniox couldn't believe it he seen with his own eyes Dryden of the hoard clan had been siding with Crovax of the Radiant Heart.  Could it be!  Would they be teaming up to take us out?  Pheniox thought.  No way.  We are not strong enough, there is still much to learn about the art of death and the black church has not made the final deliverance.  Which Pheniox knew it would never happen, but if the mad wizard Sensui thought he could then maybe it was possible joked Pheniox to himself  'hmmph never possible.'

[The Contract] Investigations

She sat there, in the hard backed chair, staring out the window in a daze. Clutching her robe around her naked shoulders, she barely noticed all of the soldiers wandering around her. 

'Hey! Whore! I asked you a fucking question!' She winced when the wooden plate hit her in the back of the head, breaking her trance. She turned slowly and looked at the soldiers that was yelling at her.

'What?' She muttered softly.

'I said who the fuck did this? It clearly wasn't your pathetic ass,' he was practically screaming at her. The body of their dead compatriot was stiffening in the bed next to her, the blood seeping into the very mattress. 

'I... don't know. I didn't see them,' she shrugged slightly, looking at the floor. 'They shushed me and then jumped out the window.'

A low growl escaped one of the soldiers throats.

'Which is it, you dumb bitch? Did you see the murderer or did you not?'

'Oh... um... well, I didn't see who it was. They were hidden. But they were in the window. And they jumped,' she nodded slowly to herself, motioning towards the open window.

'Jumped? JUMPED?! We are on the fifth fucking floor! You mean to tell me that some pathetic coward scaled five stories, slunk through a window, killed a veteran soldier and then jumped back out safely? What kind of a moron do you take me for?' He was getting angrier and angrier.

'This whole damn city is starting to go crazy. What the hell is going on?' One of the other guards muttered.

'The city is alive again. Alive and angry. And the streets have a hideous way of dealing with problems,' she said in a hoarse whisper, smiling slightly as she looked out the window.

Thing were changing. She could feel it. Hope was on the way.

[The Contract] Beginings Pt II

She woke up suddenly, disturbed. Something was different. The room was darker, the moon having drifted behind a wall of heavy clouds. It took her a minute to adapt to being awake before she realized what it was. There was no snoring. She still felt the weight of the Vectorian in the bed, but his normal heavy snoring was missing. She also felt something wet on her arm, the one she held defensively between herself and her captor. Trying not to move much, she slowly moved her other hand over and rubbed at her arm. Lifting her hand, she saw it was smeared in some dark liquid.

Slowly sitting up, she propped herself against the headboard and examined her hand. Blood. She realized that it was blood. But not hers. Looking over at the slumbering Vectorian soldier, she noticed that his throat bore a new wound from ear to ear. The bed was soaked in his life blood  And covering his eyes were two platinum coins: one showing a grinning skull, the other a ticking hourglass. Startled, she jumped slightly and tried to push herself away from hit body.
   
She sucked in her breath and was about to scream...

'Shhhhhhhhhhh'

The noise caught her off guard and she swallowed her scream. Turning towards the window, for the first time she noticed a figure perched on the window sill. Clad in dark leathers and a heavy cloak, the figure's face was almost completelyshrouded in darkness. However, one leather gloved hand was held up near the face, one finger extended over the mouth in the universal sign for silence. 

For some reason, she felt a need for modesty and she quickly pulled her robes up over her naked body. The figure in the window only chuckled softly, smiled, and jumped. Just as quickly as she had seen him or her, the figure was gone out the open window...

It was right about then that she remembered to scream.

[The Contract] Beginnings Pt I

The moon was cold and beautiful in the night sky, illuminating the streets of Westbridge on the other side of the window that acted as her only portal to the outside world. She had been here for so long she had lost Days? Weeks? Months? It was hard to tell anymore. The days blurred into nights and back into days. He wouldn't let her leave. Not that she was really living in squalor or anything like that. The accommodations were clean, and there were always meals provided. But nevertheless, she was a prisoner. A slave. His play thing. Ever since they had come, it had been like this. 

Standing before the window, she stared longingly at the city which was beyond her grasps. So engrossed in thoughts of freedom, she didn't even hear him approaching. When he touched her shoulder, she shuddered involuntarily. He leaned in uncomfortably close and kissed her neck. 

His rancid breath invaded her nostrils as he whispered in her ear, 'Don't fret precious, I'm here. Step away from the window. Let's go back to bed.' He ran his hand down her spine and lightly spanked her butt before walking back to the filthy bed against the far wall.

He threw himself into the bed and leaned backwards, presenting his naked body as if it held some sort of sex appeal. Swallowing the bile that creptup into her mouth, she lowered her head submissively and slowly walked towards him. Shrugging off her robe, she slipped into the bed beside him. Without even the slightest hint of tenderness, he flung his leg over her and prepared to mount her like a wild animal. All she could do was close her eyes and send her mind to a far away place, isolated from this room that had become her prison.

Within moments, he was done. He unceremoniously rolled off of her and quickly began snoring. Like every other night since she was taken, she wrapped the blanket tight around her body and quietly cried herself to sleep.

[The Contract] Signing

Crovax leaned back in his chair, raised his right arm, and motioned briefly to one of his guards. The soldier stepped forward and produced a fairly large leather pouch, clearly heavy with coin. The guard dropped the bag on the table with a loud thud, the unmistakable clinking of coins filling the air. Crovax slowly pushed the pouch across the table. Dryden leaned forward and casually glanced inside. 

'Consider this a deposit. Much and more will be provided should you follow through with the deal,' Crovax said as he watched Dryden counting the coin in his head.

'One final question. Do you have any requirements or restrictions about how we accomplish the mission?'

His eyes narrowed slightly in confusion, but Crovax shook his head. 'None. Do what you must.'

Dryden smirked slightly. 'Very well. Then all that is left is a little bit of paperwork...' Without breaking his gaze, Dryden motioned over his shoulder. A man clad in plain gray robes stepped out of the shadows with a parchment in hand. He laid it down before Dryden and handed him a quill. Dryden quickly signed his name along the bottom of the document and then slid it over towards Crovax. 

Crovax looked the document over, reading everything that had been discussed during the meeting. He looked up at the scribe still standing over Dryden's shoulder and chuckled. 'My, do you work quickly.'

The scribe smiled bashfully and nodded his thanks. Crovax then picked up the quill and scribbled his signature before sliding the document back to Dryden. Grabbing a small metal seal and a stick of blood red wax from the other side of the table, Dryden held the wax over one of the candles until it started to melt. He then quickly smeared it on the document, next to the signatures and firmly pressed the seal into the hot wax. Pulling the metal stamp away from the document, a grinning skull plastered in blood red wax finalized the document. Dryden handed the document back to the scribe who quickly slipped away.

'When shall we begin?'

[The Contract] Requests

'Please, have a seat,' he motioned to the vacant chairs across the table from him. Crovax stepped forward and took a seat, brushing his cloak over the back of the chair. Dryden made a subtle motion with his hand and a pair of guards clad entirely in black appeared as if from nowhere, flanking the Vox of the Hoard.
'Gentlemen, we would like a little bit of privacy to conduct some business. See to it, if you would.'

Nodding almost in unison, the two guards moved away from the table, quietly slipping through the crowd. As if their mere presence was message enough, the patrons of Smuggler's Haven seemed to disappear into the night. Within  moments, the bar was completely empty, save for the guards, the bartender, and the party gathered around the table in the corner.

'Can I offer you or your friends a drink? Some food perhaps?'

Shifting his chair forward slightly, Crovax rested his forearms on the table. 'I require the services of your brotherhood. I have been led to believe that you can help me with a unique situation.'

'Straight to the point, I can respect that,' Dryden chuckled softly. He leaned back in his chair, a slight smirk playing across his lips. 'And what can I do for you, Crovax?'

'We have a... how shall I say? A situation that is approaching. During this engagement, we need the assistance that you and your brotherhood specialize in. We require supplies. A steady stream of them, delivered to specific locations.'

Nodding slowly, Dryden idly flipped a platinum coin over his fingers. 'Seems simple enough, which of course means there is a catch. What supplies are needed? And how much of them?'

A slightly smile crept across Crovax's elven features. 'True enough, true enough. The supplies are fairly basic. We will need provisions - both food and drink, mounts, and basic armament for roughly one thousand men.'

Dryden's eyebrow raised slightly in curiosity and amusement. 'And the delivery locations?'

'Well, that is more likely to change over time. But for now, we will need initial deliveries to be on the Westbridge side of the Tripower Blockade.'

While his eyes seemed almost to be laughing in amusement, the rest of Dryden's face was an indiscernible mask. He watched Crovax without blinking for a few moments, before slowly nodding.

'That will cost you.'

[The Contract] Introductions

The ageless blond elf walked confidently into Smuggler's Haven, flanked on either side by Warriors of the Radiant Heart. The shady tavern in the depths of Makou was crowded at this time of night, just about every seat taken by some random denizen of the outlaw city. Stopping just inside the door, he started to peer around, searching the faces that surrounded him.

Almost immediately, a young boy slipped through the crowd beside the elf and his entourage. Clad in rough spun, nondescript clothing, he couldn't have been more than four and ten years old. Motioning to the trio, he turned his back on them and started to slowly push through the masses, cutting a path towards the back corner of the bar. The soldiers followed behind the boy, moving smoothly between the patrons until they reached a table against the back wall.

The massive wooden table, covered in half burned candles and scattered with parchment, was occupied by just a single person. His tattooed face bathed in the light of a cluster of candles, he seemed absorbed in the document resting in front of him.

'Sire, may I present sir Crovax Brightmantle of the Order of the Radiant Heart,' the young boy said, puffing up his chest and looking straight ahead.

Looking up slowly, his cold eyes seemed to take in every detail of the people in front of him. Finally looking at the boy, he nodded slowly.

'Thank you, Morigon. You may go,' he said as he slid a coin across the table. The boy scooped up the coin, beamed brightly, and quickly disappeared back into the crowd.

'Please, have a seat.'

Lost Causes

Late evening cast it's gloom down upon the city of Kefkaburg as Escalore strode through one of the many run down squares within it's walls. The streets were empty save a dark elf slipping through the northern gate and a dirt laden begger who slumbered in the doorjam of a shop that had closed for the day. It seemed to Escalore, that even the Vectorian patrols were lighter than the last time he had passed through. Leaning down he picked one of the two gold pieces from the hat which lay beside the begger and held it up to the dying light of day thoughtfully. Gold, the drug in which it seemed every cursed being on the forsaken planet was a victim too. The priests and their fallen pantheon, those who claimed to be the rightous. They all needed it just as much as the begger who lay at his feet, there was no difference between them all. Escalore himself detested the fact that he needed it to charter the passage for his mission. Perhaps it would be far simpler to commandeer a vessel with which to ply the eastern seas with. No. Those actions would draw far too much attention, and there would be enough of that in the days to come.

'Travel across the Sea of Swords. Within it's waters lies the key to  salvation. Bring it home.' These were the simple words that had kindled  the flame that lit the path before him. What would happen when he got out there was left in the hands of the Son. So long as it brought closer  the inevitable and cut short any unnecessary prolonging he didn't care  how far he needed to travel.

Escalore tossed the gold coin idly back into the begger's hat, inadvertently waking the man who turned his tear streaked face up towards him. 'Shh, it will all be over soon. ' Escalore crooned as he stood, looking down at the man. 'Yeh speak o'the occupation?' the begger croaked as he looked up with weary eyes. Escalore's lip curled up in a half sneer half smile, putting the man in visible discomfort. 'I cannot attest to that. After all, it's inconsequential who claims to hold control over this lost cause of a city. ' The man's mouth open and closed not unlike a fish out of water as he attempted to formulate what was certain to be a question to which answers would bear no level of understanding. Escalore simply  stood as he set his mind to the task before him. 'Ah coin fer the trouble?' the begger had finally found his voice. Escalore made no attempt to hide his disgust as he left the man behind him, his words lingering as smooth as silk. 'I'll not feed your addiction unbeliever.'

Profit

The rumors had been true: Kefkaburg's North Gate was quite the sight. Five people, all hanging on the gate by the ropes around their necks, Vectorian sentinels standing over the scene on the walls as if displaying goods they were selling. The act itself isn't what surprised Relic, but the manner in which it was done. Ever since Westbridge was taken under Vectorian rule, murder, especially aimed at Espers, had become less of a rarity. Though a public hanging wasn't a mere murder, it was a message. The intended recipient, it seemed, was headed towards the gate at this very moment. Rushing towards him down the path that cut through the northern plains were several rider-ladden chocobos. The grasslands offered small options for cover, though Relic had taken cover behind a small outcropping of rock a bit to the east of the gate itself. He doubted attention would be directed at him anyways, due to the situation at hand. He was too far from the riders to hear any words but shortly after they had stopped one of them, most likely the one in charge, began speaking. Several of them split off in different directions while one turned back the way they had come, kicking his chocobo into high gear. Most likely reporting the scene. These men weren't hard to discern as members of the TriPower. Their leader, now dismounted and peering upwards at the bodies, was armored with the unmistakable red and blue of the TriPower.

Relic smiled slightly. A message of blood, hung directly under the TriPower's nose. He had never cared who ruled what city or why, but as long as power continued to shift, there was money to be had.

He took a deep breath. It had not been since his days in the Brotherhood that his abilities were allowed a true target. This message sent the smell of war a hundred miles in all directions. War created targets, for both sides. It was only a matter of time now, before one of those  sides needed a target dealt with, by one means or another.

Smiling again, Relic, keeping low, slipped away along the city's wall. It was time to get wispers in the right ears.

The Dormant Cell (II of II)

The pilot nodded an apology to the Captain who noted his appearance with a wrinkled nose of disgust and took his seat once again at the helm. Once again he tripped the switch he had just minutes before shut down, noting in satisfaction that this time the warning indicator did not blink as the lift engines whirred to life. Swiveling in his chair to face the command chair he nodded to the Captain. Shes up and running sir. The Pride of Torregiano is ready to depart on your command. The pilot looked hopefully up at the Captain who was leaning thoughtfully upon one arm of his chair. Shall I configure the Munchausen for home port? At a single shake of the Captains head his spirits fell slightly. As no doubt the rest of the crews would when they learned that they must continue to call the confines of their small bunks home for the time being. No. the Captain said, with another shake of his head. We are to proceed to the North Gate of Kefkaburg and hold airborne until further notice. The pilots spirits rose again ever so slightly. Then we are to finally be of use I venture to guess? The Captain scowled deeply in reproach as he straightened in his chair. We have played as large a role as any. Do not forget this. Where do you think our fleet would be without reserves had Vector decided to launch an attack? The pilot turned back to his console chagrined, as the Captain continued. Scuttlebutt has it that The Tripower leaders have enlisted a group of radicals to take a more active approach to the Vectorian scourge. The Eastern Blockade is being recalled at this very moment. We will be joining the fleet at the location I gave you. Nodding his acknowledgement, the pilot pulled gently back on a lever beside the console. Shuddering ever so slightly The Pride of Torregiano lifted from the sodden habitat that it had been lying in wait and slowly took to the skies.

The Dormant Cell (I of II)

A red light blinked steadily upon a polished control console. The pilots eyes turned lazily towards it as he sighed and flipped a large switch beside the light. A low mechanical moaning filled the cabin in testament to an engine powering down at the far end of the vessel. What is it? issued a man sitting in a raised chair amid the cabin. The pilot shook his head trusting himself to take his eyes off the light only when the blinking had ceased. Its hard to say until I go below to take a look. Amphibious lift offs can be tricky in these parts Captain. The pilot waited for the Captain to nod his permission of leave before swiveling out of his chair and swinging deftly down a laddered hatch with the experience of one who had done so countless times before. Slipping through a series of corridors and hatches, the pilot finally found himself standing in one of the many hot engine rooms that the ship housed. Inwardly the pilot cursed himself for having warmed the engines prior to final inspection as sweat began to bead on his face, soon to be rivulets which would  render his morning bath useless. He slipped past the side of the engine gritting his teeth against the intense heat radiating from it before finally spotting the red handled access panel he was looking for. Wiping away the moisture that had collected upon his brow he pulled open the panel with a grunt a sudden burst of water and muck which spewed out onto him. The pilot looked down at his now green tinged shirt and shook his head as he reached blindly into the space behind the panel, his entire arm disappearing within it. Aha he exclaimed as he withdraw his arm. He looked down at the red and green colored carcass that swung gently from the long neck that he held firmly in his grip and frowned. Swam too close did you little feller? he mused to himself as he let the half pulped corpse fall to the deck with a wet thump. The pilot slammed shut the access panel and stepped over the small body, flipping the toggle on a communications box against the bulkhead. Alls well Captain, just some of the local wildlife tangled in one of the lift engine turbines. He switched the toggle back off as he made way out of the cramped compartment and made a mental note to have one of the crewman clean the engine rooms the next time they made port.

The Good Life

The birds cry rang out across the wetlands, breaking through the cold morning air in a matter which shattered the silence that was remnant from the dark hours. The white feathers of the swan like animal were stained with the green tint of the water through which she swam as she plodded her way towards the large metallic hulk which seemed the newest addition to her habitat. Floating within the deeper ends of the small body of water which rested nearly dead center of the marshy expanse, the elegant bird called out once again as if to say "Hey! Check it out". But the birds cries were unanswered as she swam closer to the strange mass of machinery which lay dormant in the water. The bird swiftly changed course as her base animal nature of flight kicked in only to realize that the sudden movement that had triggered the reaction was nothing more than a ripple against the metal mountains reflection upon the waters surface. Cautiously the bird resumed her swim towards the metal mountain, coming close enough to it to feel the humming vibrations emanating from it as she glided gracefully alongside it. She drifted in to a large alcove within the odd landform. "Perhaps the perfect place for a nest" called yet another instinct to the bird. It was short past mating season but she could already feel the growth of new life within urging her newfound maternal impulses. She stopped to preen at her feathers, casting out some of the more unsightly ones that had been permanently stained greenish by her regular swims. A sudden and deafening roar filled the alcove, and the elegant bird flapped her wings wildly, seeking escape as something below the water gently drew her in. The roaring intensified, as did the draw from below. The bird had time for one final half cry before she was viciously sucked beneath the surface leaving no trace of her existence save a single feather which hitchhiked its way upon a sudden burst of air which carried it back outside the metal mountain.

Coming to Terms

It had been three hours and of all the boards that made up the ceiling above him, none had done anything interesting. Yet still Nespian had stared tirelessly up from the bed he lay upon, hands behind his head and mind furiously working to figure out what was going on. Nothing he had learned in his studies had prepared him for this. Nothing in the curriculum warned that this may be another elaborate training step in his path to become a full fledged Reaper. No... This was real. This girl...She was real. Funny name though. Mystrus was a disease communicated through unmentionable means by many of the more advanced societies on Gaia. He shrugged internally. Maybe her parents just didn't love her enough. This would explain why she had seemed so angry to his sudden appearance upon the crater. Still the name didn't seem to suit her well.

And why was it that the planet didn't heed his call any longer? He felt naked in the knowledge that he was powerless in a strange city with only one newfound friend to call his name. Issuing a heavy breath he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. He would find his way home or the Reapers would find him... Either way. But first he would see to it personally that this girl Mystrus never had to worry about these people coming after her again. Leaving his armor on the ground beside the bed he picked up both of his blades and clipped them to his belt. As large as this city was it must have some sort of training facility. If he could no longer rely on the planet herself to back him he would have to hone his own skills.

Abducted by...Torilians?

Exhausted, he rolled over onto his back. A think layer of the lifestream still covered his person thus proving to himself that the dark summoners in the crater below were had not been a figment of his imagination. He coughed loudly as his lungs expelled the last of the green luminescent green liquid from it. *What on Gaia has happened to me* he wondered to himself. One second he had slipped off to sleep, the next he was being pulled with fanatical force through... Through what? Only to end up here...Where?

"Mutz al bihir kel raughten?" A fair voice broke through his thoughts. He wiped at his eyes attempting to remove the thin film of the lifestream that covered his lids as he felt a sudden pressure on his chest. Looking up his eyes came to focus on a beautiful young woman standing over him, her boot upon his chest. She couldn't be one of the dark agents that had tried to kidnap him could she? Deciding not to take any chances he willed the very earth to encapsulate here until he could get answers only to find Mother Gaia did not respond to his call. "Mutz - al bihir - kel - raughten?" The girl asked again in the gutteral language, her dark brown hair falling over one shoulder as she glared angrily down at him. "Where am I, who are you?" he asked, looking up curiously. "Et mornis" "Where?" The girl shoved off of him leaning down close to his face. *She could be of the Plains People* he thought, then immediately dismissed the idea. Her clothes were too nice for that, and she didn't smell the part. She issued another stream of nonsense angrily as he slowly rose to his feet, sighing. It was going to be a long day, but hopefully he had found an ally and not one of the unnatural summoners from within the crater.