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[Fallon]

40th Summer 514AV
Early Morning

It was a job, from the perspective of any mercenary. Of course, Fallon was not about to mention the more personal aspects of the Scars she had in mind - it was a sure fire way to ensure some sense of trouble. Eyes shifted, blinking behind a fringe of red hair a few times as she watched the empty street for a moment, before stepping across it. Words flittered in her head, the subtle instructions she remembered from the one who had confronted her and pleaded to her with a tight, clinging hand. And how, in her somewhat startled state, had simply agreed to it without a second thought and not asking any of the major and important details. With that she had to perform the last minute call around to members and hoped that she would not be the only one standing there.

Fallon rubbed her brow, the gaze catching the glowing colours within the rising sun, before she begun the trampling to her destination. Blades clinked, lips parted to utter into a yawn, the cushion of her palm pressing against her eye socket to rub away the notions of sleep. By the Gods, why did she agree to working during the hours of daylight?

Because that was when businesses were open, she internally grumbled. At least there was the breeze from the docks to assist in the cooling of the air. She heard the high pitched whistle of a vessel as it came in, the picking up of sounds from Cherry Bay. Footsteps echoed, the catching of merchants beginning the set up of their stalls. Beyond the dirty white sails of vessels were strung up with the rigging and gently swaying in the wind. But that was not half the problem - the coming of the middle season was an issue to say the least, high heats and a blistering sun set to burn. She grimaced, and wriggled her hands in her gloves.

The merchant and his stall was waiting for her when she arrived, her eyes falling onto a rather plump man with a disapproving scowl upon his face and a rather red balding patch upon the crown of his head. By the looks of things he was still in the process of setting up, half open crates with a selection of iron and brass goods packed between the straw. A half wave, a stifled yawn as she swaggered over and tried to awaken the still sleeping mind.

"You're late! And we're the rest of your little mercenary band?" he snapped in an angry tone. Fallon only blinked at him and straightened herself out, "Imagine what would have happened if you we're here and someone decided to attack! Bah! So incompetent! And I'm supposed to put my faith in you and your lackeys?" Shaking his head he placed a hand on his hip, and waggled another at her, "Cripes, at this rate the Daggerhand are just going to come sweeping in and snatch what they want. Greedy little Bastards..." It was then that Fallon's arms were folded. Plucking at her vocal cords she focused on meeting those lower tones that she used under the persona of Bitzer, and begun to speak.

"Well... I am here now at least, can serve up some defence for you and your stock against the like," The voice dipped to rougher tones. The mind clicked between the key words - feeling them out almost - , "So, thieves and Daggerhands? I understand the former, it's taking the opportunity where it comes. But Daggerhand?"
"Well..." She begun to watch him squirm slightly, "I might owe them things... you know... as an incentive to leave me alone?"
"Extortion?"
"No! No! No... Well... I wouldn't call it that, more looking for payment for protection...?" He drifted away, turning his attention to the box and leaving Fallon to puzzle it out. It made little sense in her mind, why ask a mercenary for help when he had the Daggerhands to assist? Unless, of course, it was not protection. Which would then begin to make some logical sense. Sort of.
Fallon cleared her throat, "So, mercenary guarding. Just for today. What do you want us to do if someone tries to steal-"
"For the love of Gods, don't kill them! Who knows who they work for? And it's bad for business, sure fire way to ruin my reputation!" The portly man squealed, "And definitely don't kill the Daggerhand! I'll be in so much trou... Just, shoo them away. Gently. Small incentive."
"Right..." She rolled her eyes, and swept her attention across the momentary quiet of the docks, knowing that soon enough it would begin to pick up in noise and traffic. And then, the fun would truly begin.

[Zandelia]

She had been practicing with her lute when the word had come, which had frustrated her as she had found little time to devote to it what with the occurrence this season and she wanted to tease out her forgotten abilities with it and repay the gift the only way she knew how - to use it for something nice, decent. She was no composer, not by half but the least she could do was learn how to play it properly. She was toying with the idea of a show in some taverns if she ever progressed enough but, for now as with so many things she wished to do, it was put aside for what was needed to be done. She wouldn’t show it, not openly, she wanted to surprise Fallon when she was finally able to do so. The boy had given her the message and left some time ago now and yet she was still sat there, pondering.

“So we are seeking to protect a merchant are we? Which one, why and what’s in it for us? A good deed to bolster the way people view us? We could use that certainly. Is there another reason to it though?” she asked herself as she finally stowed her belongings with the others and made her way towards the open city.

They were in hiding, of a sort. They still walked the streets and went about their gold generating shifts wherever they could yet when they slept they didn’t sleep in the same place for long. There were no bed, no comforts truth be told. Flitting from place to place as they eluded those that hunted them and fought back in between their day-to-day requirements. Self-set requirements she supposed, they were not an official group in Sunberth and as of yet still possessed no headquarters. They were seeking to change that but happenstance was proving to be a difficult foe for them. For now they were holding up in an abandoned building that provided shelter and shade - the basics if that.

We need to finish the bastards soon, otherwise we’ll get nothing done. Not to mention Orvin and whatever else they have planned for us. Soon, I’ll need to ask her if she has anything. Share what I’ve learnt. After this perhaps, this…protection she told herself as she weaved through the crowds to the stated location.

As she arrived Fallon was already in conversation with the stall holder, brief and angry by the tone. Though towards the end there seemed to be more frustrated attempts at reconciliation. She glanced about from the corner of another stall and saw no immediate dangers. There were civilian shoppers mostly though the dock was a veritable ant hill of activity, disturbed and seeking to shift cargo from the ships that had just recently docked by the looks of it. Her gaze slipped across the crowd several times, searching for threats, but found none and so she stepped through it. It was not bustling yet but would be soon enough once the traders had truly begun to ply their wares. No mercenaries, no Daggerhands, no slavers - unless you counted the guards walking the roughly assembled piers there were no weapons in sight upon anyone other than Fallon. At a glance at any rate, though she knew assumptions were foolish things.

Anyone could have a concealed weapon and not even know it. As she approached she caught the tail end of the brief exchange of words and raised and eyebrow as she nodded to her companion. It was time to adopt the working roles, not the personal. She looked at the merchant as she opened his mouth and nodded briefly again.

“Others not showed yet?” she asked rhetorically, it was obvious and mostly words for the merchant to feel better about, “well you will be fine man. The two of us are good, very good. The others decent enough. You will be safe so long as you don’t chivvy us away”

“I didn’t mean that!”

“Of course you didn’t, it was an observation. So…protection scam? They’re popular in these parts,” she asked Fallon for the confirmation of what she suspected, “Daggerhand, Sun’s Birth? Smaller group? Please tell me it’s a smaller group I so love playing with those cocky little rats”

She would let the merchant think whatever he wanted, the important thing was that an air of confidence about her was given - belief in her abilities. Things would undoubtedly go smoother if he was calm, felt secure and generally amiable. Such things usually did in those circumstances. Yet she was sure Fallon would see her nervousness, hidden and small but still there. They were still targets and she wasn’t usually working in broad daylight as a guard. She’d never been a guard before - not properly. This was Fallon’s territory and she’d do her best to keep off of her toes and just help her. She took up a position just behind the stall, all the better to see anyone coming around from the back.

“So, what did you want me to do? I can mingle if you like, or watch from another position?” she asked simply, “After all you’re the boss. At guarding of course”

[Fallon]

Fallon's brow creased as the merchant continued to blubber and defend those who were obviously using him to their advantage. Lips were licked, the strands of red being brushed to one side as she focused upon him. Why did she allow such a man to grab her at the spare of the moment and instil this awkward situation on her? Of course, there was the prospect of having the Scars look like the better group and one to be relied on, reputation was vital after all. Plus if done right it could be used as a way to sting the Daggerhand, or at least obtain a better picture of where their influence lay.

"Of course right!" he flustered, the sausage fingers tapping her firmly on the armour, "Nothing is going on here! They just like to visi-" Both heads snapped round when Zandelia spoke, seemingly out of nowhere. There was a careful regard, green-blue rising to meet green, and then darted on past to the dock traffic. A growing buzz filled the air, the rising scent of salt and sweat catching the senses. A gentle incline of the head to the woman, her attention finally returned to that of her contractor. His eyes seemed to dart between the two women, deciding mentally for a moment as to what to exactly think of them, side by side and looking slightly mean within the morning light.

Clearing her throat she spoke dryly, "It's a protection scam alrigh-"
"It's no-"
"You ever looked in the mirror when you object to it?" Her eyes narrowed upon him, flaring slightly, "You look in pain and as if it was a rehearsed a lying script so well that you now believe it." She looked to Zandelia her hand turning as she listed through the words, "Extortion, protection scam, blackmail, extraction, obtaining of money through threats, whatever you want to call it..." The digit came out and pointed at him, "He's getting the brunt of it. And if the Daggerhand are a 'smaller group'... then I really need to question how you define sizes."

She could almost see the merchant squirm to those carefully placed words and dissections, his mind almost deciding if he could back out. Not that Fallon was about to let him, "But we're not allowed to kill them. Only gently shoo them away. I suppose that means we should let them also red our arses and pat our cheeks? And of course, don't let people steal. But we can only give them intimidating head pats in the hopes it scares them off. Alright?" She shook her head, and watched the man sheepishly return to sorting out his wares for the day.

Back straightening, she stole another glance to Zandelia, catching the flicker of nervousness resting within the other woman. There was a shake of the head as she shifted round, right hand falling to the tulwar hilt as she took in the scene. With the back of her heel tapping against the stall, it was from there that she took several large paces out and then turned back to face it.

"Only at guarding? I guess I will have to readdress some things later," she cocked an eyebrow at that and looked at the space, "Don't mingle yet. Need to get an idea of space. They say that if you can't grab a stall thief within the first ten feet, well you've lost them. Crowd good at swallowing them whole, and if you chase after them you get far from what you're supposed to guard - leaving it exposed for further pickings." She rubbed her brow and gave a slow, thoughtful nod in consideration, "That is of course, we're then told to go chase after the thieves, bit different then. Contract changes are instantaneous, just make sure you're told to do it before you do it. Else... stick to the current highlighted points."

There was a firm step around the perimeter she had designated, feet feeling out the distance as she slunk about. She needed to get to grips on distances and how fast she could close the gap on any who were thinking on making a hasty get away. Her chin lifted to watch the slowly growing amount of bodies, the faint clatter of rough metals sounding behind her as the merchant focused only on filling up his stall. She caught a few nosy looks as others gave a look, deciding almost on whether or not to come over. Air was inhale, the gloved hand pressing back the free strands once more and tucking it this time behind her ears. The merchant meanwhile begun his shuffling around the back of the stall, giving the occasional sheepish glance to Zandelia almost as if he was expecting her to turn on her. Regardless, for the moment it was going to be little more than a slow and painful start before the docks truly came alive.

Lips were licked, a dart down to the filled water skin at her waist, before she righted her attention to what was going on around her, "So, when the Daggers come knocking, what do you-"
"I'll, I'll handle them!" he squeaked. Fallon only gave him a look, brow setting into a line. It was then slowly she spoke, words aiming for precision and an actual answer, "And if they get violent?"

Silence and an awkward shuffle was the answer.

[Kaie]

It wasn't the nicest thing to wake up to, the sound of lustful feet pounding down the hall and the giggle of a whore closing a door thereafter. One thing Ruby's had taught her was this: it was never too early or too late for a good petch. However, the rudest awakening came when the disgruntled Myrian roused toward consciousness and the subsequent migraine that had been so patiently waiting made itself known. She sat up with a groan, running her fingers through the mess of curly brown hair atop her head. The light piercing through the window fogged with age forced her eyes into slits. Across the room she spied a tipped over clay flagon on the dresser, whose spout still drizzled a thin stream of wine into the red pool upon the hardwood floor. Her clothes and guard uniforms were strung about on chairs and rugs. A couple empty mugs were scattered carelessly in the strangest of places where they had been hostilely tossed. All of Matthew's careful maintenance, cleanliness, and organization had clearly gone out the window since he left. Lucky (or perhaps unluckily) for Kaie, her thirsty had returned with quite the vengeance.

"For petch's sake," She murmured bitterly as she threw the covers off her bare flesh and loomed over toward the bedside's edge. One hand worked on rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the heel of her palm, while the over wandered toward the night stand for clasp the scabbard of her gladius. Memory was fleeting, but the scrawl upon stained parchment sitting there on the small table was a clear enough indicator of the important obligation she had nearly forgotten. It was a useless little thing to her eyes. She couldn't read the Common language, but the boy that had delivered it to her had verbalized it clearly enough. The sober version of herself the day before must've thought it a clever idea to leave it in a conspicuous spot to serve as a reminder. Shyke. Syna's up already?

Sluggishly, the Myrian glided across the room from one side of the room to the other to retrieve her things. A loincloth was taken from a drawer, her favorite leather vest from the back of a chair, the kukri harness from its spot on the rug. The bladed boots were a bit harder to find as the pair had been uniquely separated by quite a distance. Eventually, she did find them and when she was properly dressed and armed, she dragged herself out the door. Soon enough she had navigated her way through the halls and down the spiral stairs of Ruby's adorable little slut-house, then out into the unforgiving streets of Sunberth. The assault of Syna's full power was enough to force her to raise a palm like a visor.

"Docks," Kaie recollected painfully, shaking her hair out into something that hopefully looked less like "can you tell I had a rough night and my pockets are probably lighter, too?" It was a bit ironic that the only thing she wanted at the time was a strong drink. Like that would do us much good, she growled internally. There was a violent scuffle in one of the alleys she passed. Perhaps a mugging or some kind of gang confrontation, she supposed. Those were usual antics within the city. What wasn't was the shrieking man that hurtled through the crowd brandishing a curved blade, which was shoved through the back of a boy carrying a small loaf of bread not a tick later.

Her brow knit and a hand went to her gladius, but no one made a move to stop the carnage. The attempt would be a futile one, the boy was clearly lost already. And still the man continued to shout something about magic, hacking the mutilated corpse like a maddened butcher. Shockingly, some citizens dared to praise his eradication of whatever threat the boy allegedly posed, though some witnesses shied away from the gore and hustled onward. "I implore you all! I promise you they're here in our city! Kill them! Kill every last mage before they rise against us!" Another extremist piped up from the crowd and hustled toward the bleeding corpse. He grasped the wrist of the boy's murdered and thrust it into the air. The reddened sword rose above the gathering circle and dripped sinister thick pools of blood down its edge. Kaie glared at the glistening edge but thought not to challenge the seemingly crazed congregation. I have prior commitments to tend to...and this is none of my business.

Chimes later she smelled the familiar scent of sea salt above the typical foul odors, and entered the docks with an exhale of relief. She passed The Drunken Fish and juked her way through the laboring dock hands toting cargo and lines of rope over their shoulders. Merchant stalls began to pop up here and there like ant hills the farther she walked, until finally they began to colonize in rows. Syna's light flitted amorously across her bronze skin and the heat the goddess provided was a welcomed one. The conditions of the Sunberth summer certainly wasn't remotely comparable to the humidity or the heat index found in Falyndar, but it was a pleasant occurrence in the eyes of the savage all the same. Her amber eyes spied a pair of familiar faces among one of the stalls, and thus she ventured through the wave of sweaty, blistered-red faces closer.

Kaie got there just in time to catch the end of the conversation between the two women and the anxious merchant, the latter which spoke all too fast for the Myrian's comfort. "Make that three. But I have to say those are some strange house rules you've set. I do hope our faceless opponents are aware of them, otherwise the game might get a bit more...bloody." Her short-lived laugh was heartless, her words leaning far more sarcasm despite their truth, and a mischievous grin graced her tired features. Still, as hungover as she was, she was present. That merited some bonus points didn't it?"Bitzer. Web." The bronzed woman greeted more amicably, but the tightness within her amber eyes seemed to question them if she had in fact heard the merchant's decrees correctly. If so, their job would become undeniably more interesting in light of the odd "no killing" standard.

"Put me to work. I'd like us to get a jump on the little shykes, whoever they are, before they try something clever."

[Zandelia]

She tried not to smile too much at the outburst that issued forth from those pretty lips, she had learnt that in the Summer it was better just to keep silent and skirt around the frustration than to tackle it head on simply to head butt a wall of wrath. The season had been far from kind and stress was evident to her, though she was perhaps better at reading it than others. Though it was understandable, the restrictions placed by the client employing them were highly specialized and for the most part ludicrous to her mind. Still, they were what was wanted and as such what would have to be kept to - if at all possible. At least the anger was not directed at herself and it was gratifying to see the other woman put people in their places, she had such confidence at times. She simply raised an eyebrow at the words and shook her head slowly, tiredly.

Rules and regulations. One thing I like about my world better already, there are no rules. Just soft spots and weaknesses to probe she thought to herself as her gaze flickered across the crowd, no one seemed about to cut them down or steal anything at that moment.

“Daggerhand? Someone has been a very careless man then, they never let you out of their pockets once you’re in there but this bus-”

“I’m not in their pocket! I don’t work for the-”

“No you just bankroll them because you didn’t say no and stand up to them. Live with your choices and as Bitzer states stop telling yourself otherwise. You want protection then you need us. I can walk away if I so choose. I like my life after all”

“Now I didn’t mean th-”

“Of course not, why don’t you concentrate on selling and we’ll deal with the other matters eh?” she glanced at Fallon then and gave a rueful look.

“You know what’s what Bitzer, I’ll follow as you say. Not many have got the best of me when I know they’re coming”

Clearly the man was in over his head and highly strung due to his present circumstances. She was not going to be cruel with him, he was a symptom of the city and its workings not its cause. She had snapped at him simply to get him to be quiet rather than as a way of shaming him, she knew he didn’t have the strength to push off his assailants. It was, after all, why he had asked for their help. He could be useful to them in their crusade but that didn’t mean that she was about to let him run his mouth off at her, she had better things to do than be henpecked to death by a man who was clearly deluding himself as to his proclivities. She cast her gaze around once more, finding nothing to suggest danger but after Fallon was done laying down the ground rules there was a pleasant surprise in the appearance of another of their brood.

“Kaie, welcome. You look terrible indeed. Someone has been enjoying themselves I fancy? Hopefully the others came off worse, show the men how to drink properly” she smiled faintly.

Confidence was growing now, what had appeared to be something she was not well versed with had become easier with the addition of a second mercenary - two warriors with fighting abilities meant that she could perhaps fulfill a differing role that she could fit into more ably. She was a reader, a watcher and assessor. She could fight but she could probably run quicker than her companions she fancied and she knew the streets inside out if a chase was to be upon the cards. She took a few moments to check her weaponry, pulling them from their sheaths experimentally and pacing to a position on the other side of the stand now. It was easier to guard something that they were surrounding she reasoned.

“Well met though, another blade is always of use these days. As to the restrictions…there are so many ways to inconvenience someone without killing them. Nothing said means we can’t red their arses instead” she rolled her shoulders and tried to stretch her muscles slightly to ease their use if they were required.

“I’ll watch this side, right side for the disabled” she stated simply, humor was always good for soothing situations, especially if it was self-deprecating she had found.

[Fallon]

Fallon rubbed her brow and released an exhale. The merchant was a bag of nerves, fearful and stinking of it. Part of her grimaced at that, but that was also the reason why they were here today within her mindset - to serve as a spine when another could not hold up his own weight. Zandelia had remained silent, lips having done little more than resist curling into a line as Fallon gave her tongue lashing. It was all a rather tight piece, set on working and weaving to what he wanted - whilst she could understand the rules put in play and how they worked with business, even she knew they were handicaps on their abilities.

Lips were licked, her own flicker of amusement rising up as she averted her gaze outwards and to the world. It was now Zandelia's turn to begin the prodding and the pokes at the man, and Fallon just simply listened to what was going on behind her. It was Daggerhand alright, and it was his own foolishness that had gotten him into such a situation. And now, it was to them to drag him out - sort of. There was a snort to the expression the woman gave, and a shake of the head before she finally grasped upon playing look out of the stall. It was Fallon's eyes that drifted to Kaie, head cocking to one side and the lips curling up into wiry amusement. Silence ruled for a moment, a look up and down as she raised the eyebrow, and then finally spoke, "Go through a hedge backwards this morning?"

"As for the game..." Teeth gave only a flash, a polite nod of the head as she closed in and gave a flicker back to the Merchant, "Well we will see if they have read up on the rules or not in good time." There was a further clatter, a curse as he dropped something and allow the contents to spill. She gave only a glance back to see him gather up the iron tools that had been scattered across the floor. There was the lightest tut, and the gaze slid forward once more behind professionalism. For the moment at least, she had a feeling it would no doubt break down and grow dishevelled the moment the Sun reached a certain height. Part of her grimaced at that, and quickly darted about to locate any potential nearby shade she would be able to dart to - only to find none. Lips twitched, and she gave a firmer nod, "You heard correctly Kaie, no killing. Not at the moment at least. Of course, if they come at you to kill... well, do deal with them correctly. Rather have you alive than them."

She could almost imagine the merchant writhing to that last comment, but she said nothing as she kept her eyes focused on the surroundings, "Stun and knock out if they steal things and won't give. Those who keep struggling just drag them back," Her head turned to the docks, followed by a firm incline in that direction, "And we'll just give them a dunk. Maybe it will cool their heads off." There was only a shrug then, the hand gesturing to what was about and finally settling on a point, "Take the left front, I'll take the right front. Web you-" She heard Zandelia put in her moment, and in response Fallon gave only silence with a blank expression. There was nothing to say on the matter, she had chosen her side with her attempted ring at humour, "As you used to be a runner, Web, you fancy making chase if it comes to that? There's three of us here that way, sure we can hold the fort down whilst you're out hunting tail."

"So..." she cleared her throat, watching the nervous head of the merchant dart about before he settled behind his stall, "A tiger, a spider and a wolf are guarding a little piglet," lips gave a curl, "That looks as if he's trying to escape the butcher's cleaver. So they have three predators in the way," a broad grin escaped, eyes glimmering with amusement, "Let's give them a good show, eh?"

Sucking in the salty air, she cleared her lungs, rolled back her shoulders and let her hand rest upon the tulwar hilt - no killing, only stunning, and when the Daggerhands come let the merchant do the talking. Until it started getting messy, then Fallon was going to be all over the petchers in an instant. But before that, there was the rest of the city to contend with. Sailors gave a jog on past, the crow cries as cargo was shifted and moved. Somewhere beyond she could hear the shouts and jeers of locals, the faint looking of a scuffle in a distance - but their cries were muffled by the distance and breeze. Perhaps it was little more than paranoia that spoke to her then, the nagging worries that something was about to occur and rear its ugly head.

"Just a matter of time..." she muttered, eyes staring down as the numbers begun to trickle into the dock area. She heard the merchant greet another as they came closer, but she did not really pay attention to what they looked like. Just that they were there, "Soon..."

[Kaie]

In light of their humorous jibes at her expense, the Myrian merely offered half a grin and gave the waterskin at her side a tap. She shook her fingers through her hair again though, but the improvement was minimal. Back at Ruby's in the comfort of her room she could untangle and style the unruly brown curls are she pleased. For now she'd simply have to bear the good natured mockery and prioritize. The merchant's antics, for one, were enough to put the foreigner on edge. His responses were always rushed, deceptive, and hardly thought out from what she could tell. For the few chimes she had been within earshot, Web and Bitzer had put the man in a nervous tizzy with valid questions and merited accusations. He squirms far too easily. I'll bet he's a squealer too, she inferenced grimly within the confines of her own thoughts. Until the beginnings of Bitzer's clarifications, her steady amber gaze fell coldly on the man.

No killing for a standard. That makes these blades rather...useless doesn't it? Her right hand swept away from the handle of her gladius in its scabbard to the small of her back, where it clasped loosely with her left. The gesture might've even come off as absently respectful, though whether that was her original intention or not was certainly up for debate. When there came mention of her life's value over their faceless enemy's, Kaie's brows rose subtly for no more than a tick before returning to their usual segmented line of concentration in the presence of the Common tongue.

Their orders were rather straight forward at the very least. If they ran, she'd get after them and bring them on back. If any proved to be more trouble than they were worth, a taste of drowning would suffice. All was easier said than done and more work than each scenario seemed. For their sake she found herself silently praying to the Goddess Queen they would draw their swords. Although far more potentially lethal and undeniably more messy, bloodier work always had its appeals. Yet something told her the collective body would be very opposed to the scene of an outsider, let alone a Myrian one, recklessly slaughtering members of the populace. The Mob would be onto her like the Barricade to a loose Dhani outside the safety of Zinrah's caverns. Though she'd do so begrudgingly, Kaie would just have to play by the merchant's rules to the best of her ability.

"Three predators," She agreed with an incline of her head. "And each with their own bite. Maybe the little piglet should mind their fangs. There's no swine in Falyndar, oh, but I bet a Myrian Tiger would love to hear one squeal." She offered the merchant a flash of teeth and a growl before breaking into an unsympathetic laugh. She clapped the man on the back as she passed him on her way toward her specified side. There was the muffled sound of the gladius jostling within its scabbard, and the dull thump of kukri as they bounced in their harness against the middle of her back as she moved. "Let's give the petchers the fight they're coming for."

From what she could see there was little to differentiate her left flank from their right. The Docks were nothing more today than they were any other. Sailors hustled up and down ratlines, and stomped back and forth from deck to dock with full hands. Merchants howled out the superiority of their wares against their neighbors. Waves rebounded from the wooden beams rooted deep into the sand beneath. The familiar antics made her mind drift toward the Drunken Fish by default, but when she took a long sip from her waterskin instead, her face twisted in displeasure and the liquid was promptly (and unceremoniously) spit out at the ground.

"Piss warm ale," She hissed to herself bitterly, lifting the waterskin chin level like she planned to hurl it before thinking otherwise. I must've filled the petching thing last night like I was doing myself a favor today. Shyke. Warm ale was a familiar drink, but within the tiny confines of the waterskin it seemed just beneath boiling in Syna's summer presence. "It could've at least been petching wine." Kaie yanked the thing back to her hip and set to tying it firmly back in place. Her tongue danced from one cheek to the other in hopes of ridding herself of the foul taste. Staring out into the foot traffic before her, she was dismayed to find the thieves and especially fiendish individuals almost impossible to distinguish from the rest. A frustrated sigh slipped through her lips but her vigilance was unwavering.

Come out, come out wherever you are.

[Zandelia]

She simply held her peace, listening and watching as Fallon talked out the plans for defending their new client. It was a subject that, though necessary, held little fascination for her. She was here at the bidding, to do what was required when it was required. No more and no less. Whilst she had the utmost respect for the trade of the mercenary she had never found it to be her calling. She had been known to impersonate one, use them and at times even bed one - if it was demanded of her for the end triumph. Yet to live and work as one seemed to her a stifling notion. Oh there was much adventure and gold to be had but swinging swords held little appeal - it was the details of behavior that intrigued her the most. She liked to learn by observation and experience. What she had learnt so far had been revealing in its own way.

There was always the stench of fear around Daggerhand but this man, no doubt one amongst dozens, was truly scared out of his wits. It was not so much the actions and words that told the story as it was the gaps between them. He had been forced into paying them she guessed, forced to continue to do so and had no way of getting out of their pockets without bloodshed. It was an insight into how the operation was run. There were no honeyed words, that much was clear. She suspected there were merely fists and blood. Perhaps he had been shown an example to instill such meekness, another merchant who had been unable to pay having his head cleaved off perhaps. She saw his eyes flicker about so often she was not entirely sure he had not morphed fully into a rodent.

“Oh I can hunt much but tail does not interest me. Tail comes and goes, the thrill of a chase…precious. I will run but only, I suppose, if all else fails. I shall keep an eye out for such things” she responded smoothly, there seemed to be little else to say in that regard.

“A show you say? Well I could juggle if that helps so…” she turned and noted no humor left and let the words die with a sigh.

So much for a day of amusement. She crossed her arms and watched the crowds begin to muster, weaving this way and that in patterned trails of commerce that were apparent enough for those looking for them. People assumed that markets were complete chaos, she had thought the same herself before. With age, however, had come some wisdom at least. There were trails of people within the morass, almost like currents she supposed. People did so like to be sheep, following this way and that. It was safer, perhaps, to follow than to lead. And so the currents of human flesh came and went and stopped at each stall on occasion when the fancy took hold. It was interesting, it was amusingly philosophical, it was…boring. A strange dichotomy of perception. People began to visit the stall which they were guarding.

They eyed the trio warily she noted and there was no surprise there. They were an intimidating group she knew, to those who held no personal power. Still it was often the least honest that noticed guards she thought, the ones who had something to be concerned about. In Sunberth that meant a large portion of the population but she spied a few faces at least who were unconcerned with anything beyond their own requirements. It was gratifying to know that amongst the morass of lawless thugs a few nuggets of decency yet remained - there was still hope to make something of a legacy before they were eviscerated in some back alley somewhere, one day, somehow. She did not watch those people, though she noted them well enough. No she watched those who were trying to appear like them but held a few telltale signals of the actor about them. The way their steps were more careful rather that carefree, the cloaks hiding their hands so neatly, their eyes not so much darting around as slowly scanning the throng for opportunity. Many signs.

“Good day! Think I’ll have a looks at yer wares today. Need something decent” a young man approached the stall, one of the crowd of feigners and fawners.

“What? Oh! Oh nothing finer my lad!” the merchant replied jovially after a few seconds.

She tilted her head and gave the other two a look, gaze shifting to the newcomer slowly and carefully. Pointedly. She could not watch everything at once. She would chase him, catch him if he acted poorly - stole something perhaps. Yet she was perhaps a better judge at reading crowds and she was determined not to let any Daggerhand have their fun with this merchant. He was a coward, true enough, but she hated Daggerhand more than she hated cowards and that made him her ally. For now at least. Thieves could be handled if they proved to be thieves. She had seen nothing to cause her concern as of yet and she was not about to interrupt business and get a spluttering upstarts attempt at a scolding.

[Fallon]

"At least you can drink alcohol in this rising heat," Fallon mumbled, her hand patting on her own water skin, "Just fill me up with water." Her eyes glanced back to the Myrian, a step to the side as she moved out the way of the oncoming flow, "Still, reap what you sew. Guess it's what happens when you pick out flavours whilst hedge hopping." There was only the subtleties of a smirk, the eyes on the watch for possible thieves should they come. If they came, having three individuals there watching with the merchant no doubt served as some form of a deterrent - to the cautious at least. Lips were licked, a watch of the heads that seemed to lean in to observe and then pull away, wrapped up beneath the hoods of cloaks.

The mind gave a gentle throb, a slow yawn as she focused on awakening the body. Somewhere behind her she was certain there was a rather bored expression, but that was always the case when guarding was required - a lot of waiting around, standing and general observation. There was many an occasion when nothing actually happened outside of minor incidents, thieves reaching for the prize only to be cut short by a very loud, clear cough. Still that did not mean she was not letting her eyes glance back to the one who had approached the stall. No, there was plenty of other things going on that she had to keep her attention to. She could hear the shouts above the sea of people, a gentle cock of the head to one side as she considered what she was hearing.

Barging, heavy steps, the grunts of annoyance and the piercing cries going to snatch attention. To what exactly was still beyond her, perhaps in time she would find out. Her head turned back to the merchant again, talking with the young man who approached and showing off a variety of cheep iron knives. Crudely made as single piece, even from where she was she could see the way the metal was bent and far from straight. The man was shaking his head, arms folded defensively, "Nah, I need something better than that. Straight and cheep. Doesn't have to look nice, but I don't want it bent."
"How about this?" the merchant begun to point at something else, and showed the man from the safety of the other side of the stall. Whilst the careful inspection continued however, Fallon returned to her simple guarding and mumbling, "So, who do you think the first trouble maker will be? Girl? Boy? Young? Old?" It was a way of passing the time she figured, if not in a particularly dulled fashion. Not that it tore her attention away too much from the world around her, "Think it will be a young, looking for a quick opportunity - never patient them ones, like to jump in head first. Learn quickly though."

Ears twitched to the voices just beyond, a lift of the chin as she tried to get a better view. People were still shouting, a moment of simple distraction from her task as she tried to take in what it was - a growing threat or something else? There was a barge of bodies, a moment widening of eyes as she watched another be pushed and forced to stagger. A runner scrabbled up to their feet, barely a glance back from beneath a hood to the source of the shouting chant that was growing louder by the tick.
"Mage! Get the filthy mage!" She heard the cry out. There was a hoot as the runner took up once more, barely travelled a few steps before a firm shove sent them tumbling once more. Fallon gave a glance back, her hand falling to the tulwar hilt as the body laid scrabbling before her on the floor. Hands grasped upon her leg, the low sobbing of a woman coming out from beneath the folds. Her head darted back, feeling the fingers probe into the leather of her greaves as the woman clung. Fear was the first thing she could sense, it was obvious, dark and sticking to what was before her - even as the eyes of the crowd fell upon her in the judging glamour. Words escaped her, the barging forth of a raving brute as he broke through the crowd. She caught only a glance of the surprised face of the merchant before her attention was forcefully snatched back. The brute gave a grunt, pointing a dagger generally at her whilst hoisting up the rope in the other. It was becoming increasingly obvious on what it was he wanted.

The woman begged, "Please! Help me! I don't want to-"
"Hand her over!" shouted the brute.
"What?" was all Fallon could manage to respond with.

[Kaie]

There was the faintest twitch of a grin in response to Bitzer's mockery, but the facade of minimal annoyance in her clear logic was evident upon tanned features. "And to think there might've been a time I would've thanked myself for such an idea," Kaie quipped with a slow shake of her head. Her deep amber eyes drifted toward a shouting ale salesman and his assortment of small kegs, but it did not hold her interest long. Once more she found herself sweeping her gaze through the crowds instead. Clearly unable to detect a likely threat from afar by mere appearance, she found herself scanning the clothing of those passing instead.

The questions she asked herself about each target as they entered her vision were rather simple. Are their movements jerky or nervous? Do their eyes glance around to see who might be watching? What about their clothing? Does it seem out of place in reference to the heat and season? Is it baggy or conveniently crafted to conceal weapons or some sort of tools? Is a weapon even visible? Straight forward sort of things, they were. Mental affirmations didn't necessarily ensure a guilty presence. The Myrian was clever enough to know not to make rash assumptions. However, she did try to use deductive reasoning where she could and relied heavily upon personal experience. Too often she had found herself in the presence of murderers, mercenaries, and thieves; though the latter of the three was not one she was all too familiar with. Perhaps looters, but not outright larcenists. The fingers on her right hand tapped a rhythmic tune likened to that of a beating drum along the handle of her gladius.

A man apparently interested in their skittish employer's wares approached, which was to be expected considering the nature of their location. The man was running a not-so-honest business after all wasn't he? For the time being, the savage found no reason to intervene or harass the newcomer. Instead she was content listening to the two men haggle over the poor blades and Bitzer's musings with a half grin. Whether the other woman intended the Myrian to offer her input or not was over the foreigner's head. Too eager to distract herself from Syna's blaze, Kaie found her lips moving anyways. "Young," she agreed lowly and began cracking her knuckles against the palms of her hands. Her feet scoffed impatiently at the ground. "Hopefully not quickly enough, and if they do, I hope our Spider can spot them before they strike. I haven't found an eye for this sort." The Myrian shifted her gaze toward Web and offered her a subtle shrug in the face of their so far laid back job. At least the young woman had thought it so before she heard the shouts.

There in the crowd she emerged, scrambling through the bodies with a palpable desperation that permeated the area about her. Shaken bystanders stumbled back from the woman as she shoved past them, none daring to approach her even as she searched for her feet. A somewhat organized party chanted its call for bloodshed just behind. Apparently, she wasn't the only one to take notice. The merchant's nervous gaze snapped upward from his stall and its cheap merchandise, and the customer in his midst turned bewildered on his heels. The shouting was beginning to rise in volume, and with it, the demand for violence. Kaie took a reflexive step forward with a hand clutching her gladius. It wasn't until the doe-eyed woman collapsed at Bitzer's feet that the sword was pointedly withdrawn.

The silence of the Tulwar wielder made the Myrian's blood run cold with dread. Frozen, she stared at Bitzer with a raised brow while the lynching party closed in ahead of them. Their eyes were hungry and cruel. The savage could practically taste their hatred on her tongue. She could feel its potency in the way it made every one of her hairs stand on end, and the way fresh adrenaline jolted into her veins. Amber eyes glanced wildly between the three: Bitzer, the sobbing condemned, and the impatient mob.
"Give up the mage!"
"Aye! You heard the man! Hand her over!"
"Oi, they protectin' 'er?!"
The brute with the dagger and rope jutted his blade toward the accused mage, and the woman began to implore for her life.

"Sunberth can be safe to be a part of, as long as you are willing to be a part of it," Matthew's silky voice reminded her once more. Was this what he had meant? Kaie's tight gaze drifted from the groveling woman, to a bewildered Bitzer, and finally toward Web. Her mind wandered to a recent memory, one in which a certain mercenary found himself choking and clawing for a hand that simply wasn't there. Dhani magic, She recalled with a flexing of her fingers at her side. Mage. A final glimpse between Bitzer and the mob, and her mind was made up. Her fingers tightened around the handle of her weapon and she stormed toward the pair.

There was a shriek as the Myrian wrenched the woman from the ground by her arm, and a round of cruel cheering when she was presented before the lynching head. A tense moment was shared between the two, but when the brute clutched the woman's opposite arm, Kaie relinquished her own grasp upon her. The rest of the crowd fell upon the woman readily at that point with a deadly zealousness that almost rivaled that of a Myrian's. Their filthy hands clambered for her, tearing at her clothes and beating her into submission when she made a hopeless dash back toward her almost protectors. Profanity endured as did the woman's screams.

The bronzed mercenary pivoted and strode back toward her post with a rigid, stony expression. Her eyes never seemed to leave the point toward which she advanced. When she passed Bitzer, however, there was a momentary pause.
"Don't," was all she offered at first. Another cry for mercy had her lips pressed into a hard line. "Turn your back if you must." And then she once more found herself back in her designated guarding position once more. Like a statue, she prepared to watch the consequences of her actions unravel before her.