Finding what's behind the masks(Sam, Matt, Ronan, Mae)

[Lariat]

[90th of Summer, Endrykas]

A cool whisper of fall brushed across the grass that early dawn as the watchman stood just on the outskirts of Endrykas. Just by his side, standing strong and with his green dyed armor in neat order, the meticulous Vatiz stood calm, looking out on the grass for a moment or two longer, before crouching down to the grass. It was clear what his specialty was by the color of his armor, but even if one didn't know the clans of the tent city, it wasn't hard to understand that he was moving the grass apart to check for signs of anyone who had left recently. There was a boot print to be sure, the stamp of it clear on the impressionable soil, and pointing due south-east, perhaps to the camp the watchman standing beside him had heard of. When Sam had told the story to the watch, those who knew the web best among them had been instantly set to work, and after only but a few hours had determined the relative position of a large camp barely a half day's ride from the moving city, though who all belonged to this group of bandits it had yet to be known. All that was known was that the group was relatively knew to the region, which was why the watch hadn't noticed them before then, and that they posed a enough of a danger that they needed to be immediately taken care of to the last man.

The man still yet crouching beside Sam's side was one of the watches best trackers, sent to accompany Sam personally on the scouting that morning while the larger group was summoned and prepared. While it was partly because of the necessity of the situation, the man was also there to observe Sam in his duties, looking at him closely to see how he did his job, and what areas he would need improvement on. Even more important, he was there to make sure that none of the people in the city where traitors to their kin, and to see that none left the city for now as it wouldn't do to have the bandit's prepared and ready for the battle to come. Vatiz stood up again, sighing aloud as he looked around and screeched the back of his head, his body well toned, and thick at the chest reflecting a life of preparation for enduring the sea of grass. " I see some boot prints that I will follow up, you go and find out if those others still yet wish to join us on the battlefield this day. " He announced cooly, not even looking back as he started off after the tracks, leaving Sama'el all alone.

[Ronan]

Ronan stood on the edge of Endrykas, gazing out across the Sea of Grass. A cool breeze blew towards him - cooler than every day that had come before. Summer was drawing to a close, and Autumn was coming to Mizahar. Doubts and anxieties still plagued Ronan, but the main difference was that he wasn't alone any more. He had others he could face these troubles with, and troubles they were. Assassins, like fading shadows, flickering through the plains of Cyphrus, black daggers in their hands. He shuddered. And then something pulled his attention west. A man was approaching, a figure growing larger and larger. Sama'el the Watcher. Sama'el - his chance for salvation.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el merely nodded to Vatiz, acknowledging his precedence in this endeavor. Despite his obvious skill with horses, he was not yet a master with blade, with bow, with the arcane mysteries, and so he still reported to others in matters as weighty as this. Standing up, too, he dusted chaff and grit from his front and strode back toward where the outlanders remained as well as his Windrunner stallion, Horse. Dohaina was busy resting between vehement copulation sessions with Leto's Arias, and Sama'el didn't want to get in the way of her pregnancy. It was about time he started breeding her, and if her estrous was a bit inconvenient, well, that was just how it happened. "Vatiz investigates," he informed them in Common so the outlanders could understand him. "We wish to know if you all still want to fight when the time comes." He said it matter-of-factly. Anyone thieving or killing within Drykas territory would be met with violence; this was merely an invitation to be a part of Drykas justice. Ronan would understand, but the others might not. He waited patiently for their answers.

[Merenwen]

The rustle of the grasses stirred the silence. Two golden-green eyes split brindle-lashed eyelids as Merenwen lazily looked around. Her white belly scrubbed the ground as she pulled herself forward and up onto her paws to further investigate. The autumn-tinged breeze elicited a softer – a much softer – ruffle in the grasses. The verdict: Something or someone was nearby.

Quickly she dropped back to her stomach with a low growl, fully awake now in the presence of possible danger. Her fur-tufted ears honed in on surrounding sounds, her moist nose flared as she picked out unfamiliar smells. What was going on in the grasslands? What didn’t fit?

At last! She picked out a scent! But no…. Could it be? She crawled as quickly as she could through the grass, weaving in and out, pausing only for a moment to correct her direction. If she had been mistaken she could be making her way into certain danger, but she was certain in her findings. As the span of land shank with her approach, she slowed down, curious and anxious. She peeked at last through the grass, her nose bumping into a boot, that of Ronan Windsong’s. Relieved with her finding, she sauntered from the grass and sat at his feet, nuzzling her head against his thigh. Surely he would recognize her. What other large feline would he know?

And what was going on here? Others stood nearby, partaking in some sort of hushed converstaion. She longed to shift and ask dear Ronan what he had gotten himself into this time, but she held back, waiting to hear what the commotion was all about. How long had it been since she had seen Ronan? Longer than just a handful of days. It had been the beginning of Summer, at least. And here it was, nearly fall, and their paths had crossed again. Hopefully the circumstances were different, less stressful, less dangerous. A chunk of missing fur across her shoulder blade left a freshly healed scar visible for all to see, the one lasting memoir of the tragedy that befell the grasses that night.

[Matthial]

One final figure approached the group. Yet, he was barely recognizable as the final member of the trio of survivors from that summer day. The hair was completely unkempt, and the once fine shaven face was adorned with a sharp goatee, the beginnings of a beard. The warrior was covered in what might be a cloak, or an overly large blanket, it was hard to tell. The battered sword that was his hallmark stretched across the back as one hand clutched the strap covering his chest. If ever a man looked like he had just crawled out from the depths, it was this one. The gait was uncertain, and the body seemed to sway, as if weak, or malnourished. The face's definition further confirmed this, with the high cheek-bones being entirely too prominent. The overall effect was hard to place, but Matthial had an aura about him. Not so much a ragged wolf as a lost bird. The Sylirian had heard talk in the corners of the pavilion tents. Rumors, whispers, and tales of bandits, and now, of a group of Watchers heading out to deal with the problem. Matthial remembered well his last encounter, in fact, it was one of the reasons he had left Samael's tent and had spent the last few weeks sleeping among the plains. He wasn't too far out from the moving city, and it wasn't coincidence that he found the group out here. Saying nothing, Matthial listened as he caught the end of Samael's greet-briefing. Instead of answering, Matthial simply gave a nod.

[Lariat]

Far away in the grass Vatiz followed the subtle bent of the grass, and slight impressions in the earth. Someone leaving Endrykas at this pressing time was of course suspicious, though the scout hoped it was nothing more than some lad hoping for alone time with his lady. The way the tracks were, wide spread, and smooth seemed to support this along with the fact that they had made no effort to conceal where they where heading. From his long rides out from Endrykas, he knew exactly where it was heading, a clearing in the grass where it was lowest, and a small spindly tree stood offering little shade, though it was a rare sight on the grasses none the less.

It was an easy thing dropping to the ground on his hand, and in that position roughly parallel to the ground, he crept forward, peering through the long blades of grass to see over the rise. Looking over, he saw the broad shoulders of a man standing amidst the golden grass, deep in conversation with a fiery, red haired woman who leaned easily against the trunk of the splintery wood. Tensing forward, he strained to hear their voices, and smirked when it sounded just like it looked. A simple lover's quarrel.

There was a shift in the brush behind him, the crackle of dried grass, and none to gently a hand pulled his shoulder around.

* * * * *

The sound of hooves pounding across the ground echoed behind the subtle undertones of the conversation at hand, and a woman sheathed in vivid purples hailed them with a dainty upraised hand. "Greetings" she said, using common for the sake of any of the strangers who might not know pavi. To Sama'el she turned and offered a slight smile. "Are they ready Sama'el?" Sheava asked, her tone completely serious, and weighed heavily in the air.

[Ronan]

When the time comes... Ronan thought, listening to Sama'el's plea. There was no question - no question at all. He'd made a vow to avenge that murdered woman, and now the time for justice was at hand. "Of course," Ronan said with a slight bob of his head. He glanced around at the others. The city-born soldier, and the Kelvic. Would they come along too? Would they offer their aid? At the end of the day, a threat to Endrykas was a threat to everyone. One way or another, these assassins had to be stopped. He turned back to Sama'el and watched him carefully. His admiration was rising. He wanted to join the Watch - and surely, helping today could only put him in good stead.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el observed the lynx sidle up to Ronan, and knew she must be the Merenwen of which the other Drykas had spoken. Then Matthial nodded and Ronan agreed. Of course, what else could they do? They were here, after all. He nodded to all of them and smiled a greeting at Shaeva. "As ready as they'll ever be," he said in a lightly joking tone. Best to start these things on a positive note. With an invisible indication from his knees, Horse turned toward Shaeva and Sama'el took the natural leadership role. "Come, fellows. It's time to show them Drykas justice."

[Lariat]

Shaeva followed shortly astride Sama'el as they urged their steeds forward. Even with the hoofbeats thundering against the ground, and the wind howling across them she found little difficulty speaking to Sama'el, making that clear enough by her comfortable tone. "Others will meet us one bell out into the grass. The Watch is calling for the nearby patrols as we ride out, though they expect you'll be able to handle yourself well enough of course" She punctuated with a girlish laugh, and a wink before she allowed her strider to fall a few paces behind Sama'el's own steed. For the moment, the presence of a sole leadership was needed and she wouldn't taint that by keeping her pace at the head of the group. It was easier to organize the group that way, and simply caused less confusion.

For bells out they rode out, away from the direction from where he and Vatiz had gone Sama'el would easily recognize. It was a strategy common to the Watch, with their quickened mounts on the sea of grass. They already knew the location of the perpetrators, and now the purpose of the riders was to circle around the bandits and once the others where in place, and the non-watch members of the group properly informed on tactics, the attack would begin in such a way to leave no survivors. As if they had a chance at outrunning their striders.

At last they slowed down, coming to rest in an unremarkable patch of grass, and Matthial, Merenwen, and Shaeva circled Sama'el, consequently putting him in the center. They awaited his direction.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el craved these instances where he was allowed to lead, hoping one day to lead a pavilion and needing all the practice he could get. Vatiz was scouting ahead, and here he had Shaeva of the Watch, Ronan, who was at least Drykas, the Kelvic girl, and the outlander knight. Matter-of-factly, he drew his scimitar, holding it in a position conducive to riding at speed, the which they were likely to do. Horse was panting a bit, in excellent shape and swift as any horse, save for the Striders on Cyphrus soil. But they didn't travel all that fast, what with the outlanders among them. "We are close now," he said tersely, quietly. "Vatiz has marked them, and they are just beyond that rise." The signs were clear to a tracking Watchman, even if he wasn't so skilled as Vatiz. He gauged their skills, their commitment, and then he decided. "We will circle them. I'm the best rider," he said without arrogance, "so I will ride a wide arc to cut off escape. Ronan will follow me, then Merenwen. Shaeva will lead in the opposite direction, Matthial following. We will form a circle and we will not let them escape until justice has been served. Are there any questions?"