Closed [Job Thread] Conflict of Interests (Alexander Faircroft)

[Rhov]

29th of Winter, 515 A.V.----

The white of Rhov's breath crawled out of his mouth and into the cold midday air. He rubbed his hands together in a desperate attempt to stay warm, unused to the constant chill which seemed to seep into every facet of Stormhold. Despite the warmth of his white woolen coat, tanned leather leggings, and deep brown boots, the cold still penetrated him. As a desert dweller, the Chaktawe much preferred the vibrant color of the Spring and Summer months to the dull grays of Winter. However, as much as he disliked the frost which infected the air around him, Rhov did appreciate the fact that Winter greatly reduced the size of the crowds which swarmed the inside of the castle. Instead of the usual, constant pain in his fingers from the plethora of air disturbances that throngs of people caused, Rhov could actually enjoy using his Chaktawe senses.

A flash of red exited the ornate building that Rhov knew to be The Heralds Arms, and a small smirk splayed onto his bronzed face. The bounty hunter had been staking out the whorehouse for a few days now, observing the patterns that its patrons followed. His contract, brought to his attention by his newly regained contact of Gene Duval, was for a 'Mr. Arthur Greene'. The man had been tried for crimes against Syliras and been resigned to a life of hard labor at the mines, but at some point in transit, the man escaped and had been lost in the labyrinth that was Stormhold Castle. Which is where a freelance like Rhov came in. It might grind the Order's gears, but so far the bounty hunter's record had been near-flawless. He found the criminals and the runaway squires they had failed to without needing to follow their vaunted Code of Honor. Almost exactly what many of their kind despised; an independent, effective, non-human who at times did their job better than them. And Rhov reveled in it all.

Unfortunately, Rhov was having as tough as time with Mr. Greene as the Knights had. The man had become wraith after going underground. He had not visited family nor friends, his former job was left unattended, and any former hobbies had been abandoned. Well, almost every hobby.

Every prey had their patterns, certain routines that they would not abandon despite the circumstances. That red-haired vixen who just exited in a most peculiar hurry? That was Mr. Greene's pattern. Duval had a contact within The Herald's Arms who let it slip that Greene was a former client of one of the entertainers, and that entertainer had been acting strangely of late. Rhov had confirmed these suspicions, that red-head left the whorehouse at exactly the same time each day, always heading in the same direction and returning only a few hours later. Too convenient to be simple coincidence.

Rhov walked forward at a casual pace, always within eyesight of Red but never close enough to draw attention. The woman was easy to spot in the sparse crowd, and her wanderings led them deeper and deeper into the city. Onyx eyes never leaving her hurried form, a wave of satisfaction washed over the desert dweller as he tracked the woman's every move. Rhov had a feeling that today's hunt would be one to remember.

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

8:45AM

The day started off like any other might have. Simple grab gear and go type affair. But today his patron and mentor had a different job or him. A search and retrieve mission. Ser Greyheart handed Alex all the notes he and his subordinates had managed to collect regarding one Mister Greene. Wanted for theft, grievous bodily harm and arson. Alex would have been willing to let it slide if it’d been a minor theft but no the poor sod had stolen near two hundred mizas. Attacked A mister Rusilov, leaving several deep stab wounds from a dagger which Alex was familiar with. And finally he’d set fire to Several of Mr. Rusilov’s possessions as a statement that he’d had it with him and before he was found he’d intended to burn Mr. Rusilov alive, to hide the evidence. A Nasty piece of work but a simple man who’d snapped.

Alex nodded his head to Ser Greyheart giving him his word he’d catch him. This wasn’t so much a tracking mission as it was a search and retrieve. This man was currently a danger to anyone around him including his family. Luckily he’d severed all ties with them and had simply vanished. A ghost. Like a bolt of lightning. First he popped up on their radar and then suddenly vanished. Given Alex’s mental acumen he’d been tasked with finding and bringing Mr. Arthur Greene in. A simple enough name and a simple enough task. But finding him was the ticket. Perhaps Ser greyheart and his knights had already found Mr. Greene and this was simply a test for Alex to show what he could do in? Either way Alex stepped from the warmth of the castle into the frigid air.

10:01AM

His breath escaped him in long trailing clouds of white. His body was chilly but not cold he was sued to being out in lower colds than this, the frosted woods near his home town succumbing to colder winters. He breathed a small wisp of steam now. His left hand resting on his bastard swords hilt, the heater shield strapped to his arm and the longbow across his back. Throwing knives hidden all over him and a dagger across the back of his waist, resting atop the quiver of arrows. He knew this part of the city well but the establishments here were questionable. Alex stepped through the frosted streets his armour strangely enough rusted and miss-fitting as it was didn’t make noise as he stepped. He’d learnt to control his footsteps.

The low hanging light of Syna illuminated the streets in such a way that made it easy for his armour not to glare. He hung about in the shadows near the corner of the Heralds arms. Just out of sight. He waited, cold and hidden in the shadows like a hunter stalking a deer he waited. He wasn’t going to fail his patron. After a few chimes of waiting he’d given up on it and stepped into the establishment proper. His armour clashing with the interior. The strong scent of perfume met his nose. He coughed lightly, it almost smelt like a much stronger version of the herbalist shop that Lynn worked in. Collecting himself he stepped up to the counter. A small smile on his face. One of sincerity which he was used to showing.

“Oooh, haven’t seen you around here before handsome. Come to stay the night with one of our lovely ladies? Or just looking for some lodging, would be a shame.” The dark haired woman behind the counter spoke to him in an inviting tone. He steadied himself, there was a reason why he hadn’t been seen around here before. This wasn’t a place he visited often and as such he stood out like an orange in a bushel of apples. Clearing his throat he spoke in his almost supernaturally soft tone, easing an edge of coercion to his words.

“Sadly I’m not here to stay the night nor am I here to enjoy the company of one of your lovely ladies. However I am here on business. I’m looking for a Miss. Triss Keller. She’s been known to have connections with one Arthur Greene. Who as of this moment is under arrest for escaping Knight custody and attempted murder.” His words were polite but a weight to them that was undeniable. She gave him a look up and down. Weighing up her options She could have just told him no but he’d spoken in a way that she didn’t often get.

“Triss is the redhead in the back. Give me two chimes and I’ll collect her for you.” She spoke back with a much more curt tone now. Since she knew she wasn’t earning anything off of Alex the pleasantries fell. A chime and a half later she emerged with Triss.
“So whadda ya want?” Triss spoke harshly and in a simple sharp tone. Alex responded keeping up his much softer voice. “I’m looking for Arthur. I’m of the belief that you know where he is. You can tell ae and be on your way. Simple as.” Punctuated with a smile she told him that Arthur was hiding out in the maze that was the residential. Not believing her words for a second he smiled lightly and let her go. “Thank you for your assistance.” A brief word of thanks to the brunette behind the counter and gave a full half chime of delay before tailing her. She was lying through her teeth and he knew it.

She had exited the building with a pace and circled off around the corner. Alex caught the briefest glimpse of her hair as she rounded the corner chasing after her with a small amount of pace. Keeping a further distance from her than most tailing would the armour he worse was a dead give away. Yet, between himself and her someone else seemed to be tailing her with a casual pace. He wasn’t the only one tracking this situation. He wasn’t alone here. His left hand tightened around the handle of his sword as he tailed after her. And followed this new tag along.

[Rhov]

----

Every step was measured, precise in intent and bearing with the quiet urgency that only a hunter knew. His boots landed soundless off the cobble surface of the ground beneath. Like a whisper, Rhov flitted in and around the crowd, maintaining good distance from the splash of red which marked his target. She was the unknowing bait that would lure out the slippery son-of-a-bitch that was Mr. Greene.

Rhov didn't know much of anything about the woman whose strides he now shadowed, but that was half the fun of tailing someone. Regardless of who they were before, in the midst of a chase, more about their character was revealed through their movements than they would ever be likely to tell you in person. Take the prostitute, for example. She walked with her head leading, she had purpose and direction in what she did. Her steps were hurried and short, and she cared little for the stir she caused as she plowed through the increasingly clustered bodies of Stormhold. Panicked, fearful, the redhead moved like a woman out of time.

To anyone else, that's where the analyzation ended. But Rhov had been in this game for a while now, and as a tracker he knew that every footstep marked a person's place in the world. The way a person walks, it reveals the reasons behind why they walk. Her steps were panicked, but why? Greene was just a client, and she was young, surely she had other men to choose from in her profession. Unless Greene was more than a client. Love? Unlikely. From the brief description Duval had given him, Greene did not seem the type that a woman like her would fall for. Regardless of her reasons, it was apparent to Rhov that the woman had a personal stake in the outcome of today's events. It wasn't much, but if push came to shove with Greene, Rhov was willing to bet that he could use the whore to his advantage.

As the wide streets of Syliras thinned down to the narrows of the numerous alleyways which knifed through its landscape, the woman's pace slowed. Her form was illuminated by the dull torchlight, painting her shadow in stark difference to the white-washed wall behind her. Rhov slowed his pace to match her's before quietly ducking into the crevice of a nearby alley, his figure disappearing behind the carved corners. He lost sight of the girl, but he didn't need to see her to know when she moved. They were diving deeper into the bowels of the castle, where there were less and less people available to cloud his Chaktawean senses.

However, what caught his attention was not the steady decline of movement in front of him, but the strange sensation of another body stopping at near the same time. A puzzled look worked its way onto Rhov's angular features, one that changed to a look of concern as movement spiked again from both directions at near the same time. The one in front of him proved to be of a decidedly smaller size, while the one behind him felt heavier. Slower. Rhov hissed out a curse as he realized the patterns of movement. There was another hunter on the same trail as he.

He counted his heartbeats as the woman slipped out of his senses, and decided that it would be better to deal with this problem sooner rather than later. As the larger, slower movement came within striking distance of his alley, Rhov lashed out a hand and pulled the stranger into his hideaway. The bounty hunter had the advantage of surprise, and utilized it to its fullest. He moved quickly, shoving what he now realized to be an armored figure up against the wall. Bronzed fingers ghosted behind his back and unsheathed the gleaming steel of his Angle-Knife, the curved weapon placed firmly at one of the gaps in the man's armor. Rhov's forearm pressed roughly against the decidedly taller man's thick neck, and his solid black eyes bored intensely into the soft green of the Squire's.

"Who the Hai are you, and why are you following my mark?"

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

The quickened steps of the woman in front of him. She was intent on her direction. She knew exactly where he was. Alex had picked up on the right trail. However the person between both himself and the target he followed still lingered about. As he a guard or merely some unfortunate soul headed in the same direction? Either way Alex’s hands were open and steady his left hand on the hilt of his bastard sword and his right on the handle of his dagger. The slow narrowing walk through the winding streets of Syliras’ castle was something that he was sued too. The path she was taking was one he knew well and one not many people ever took purely because of the lack of the sun to tell of the direction.

His duty right now was to prove himself and his intelligence to his patron. A simple task it seemed at the beginning of the day but he began to see with each passing chime why this was a test for him. This green fellow was someone who quite literally fell off the grid. And this red haired woman was the only thread that allowed him a single tying thread or even a small glimmer of hope about finding this fugitive. Alex’s eyes never left the spooling length of red fire like crimson which spooled from her crown. Still he couldn’t shake the feeling of danger. Like something else was here some un-equated variable he hadn’t considered.

The walk descended further still into the bowels of the castle, this path was a roundabout way to cut through the centre of the city and the spider web of passaged beneath it to the docks. Clever. Very clever, if she’d of told this to any other knight they may have taken her word for it and headed into the residential and lost any chance of catching this fugitive. Oddly enough the man from before was still between the pair of them. Even with the silence of Alex’s footsteps in the plate, he wasn’t sure that the other man was unaware of his presence.

Soon the other bronzed skin man slipped into the shadows, believing him to have headed off onto a different path Alex soldiered on the lightness in his step allowing him to keep a little closer to his target now. Especially within the darkness, but as he was about to close in he felt a hand Wrap around his back and then press him to the wall. In a reactionary motion he drew the dagger from behind his own back and rested it at his would be assailant’s thigh. The wolf’s head blade long enough to compensate for the drop. An angled knife pressed against the gaps in his plate and straight up against the chain beneath. At this range if he leaned in with his full body weight that’d punch clean through to his abdomen. Alex’s own knife would have a much shorter distance to travel to cause greater damage. Seriously? This is happening right now!?

His own eyes now locked with his assailant’s ones. The black orbs reflecting the shining jade of his own. A shared intensity between them. Both had the other at a disadvantage. Angle knives did well with armour, not to mention his forearm pressed against his throat. Alex had the training as a squire to know where to strike for maximum damage, not to mention this was a weapon he had some familiarity with. And then the bronzed man spoke, Alex’s eyes never leaving his black orbs. Who was he? And why was he trailing his mark? Who the heck did he think he was?

“First up, you either remove your knife, or you’ll die a lot sooner than I will. Secondly this isn’t your mark, she’s mine.” His eyes now hardened and his voice still unnervingly soft. Light, almost as if he held the upper hand. “Thirdly I don’t owe you any explanation of who I am you owe me an explanation of who you are” As he spoke he moved his arm in a swift motion.

Alex would draw his bastard sword attempting to use the added weight and hardness of the pommel to knock the arm with the angle knife away and hold his own knife at the same point. And then wheel the edge of his bastard sword up to his assailant’s throat. If it worked he’d hold all the cards and have a better point to bargain from. From there he’d simply say. “Either way were wasting time we can argue later she’s getting away.”

[Rhov]

----

Rhov was first and foremost a knife-fighter. Close-quarters-combat was what he excelled in, what kept him alive in through many conflicts. So when his opponent drew his second blade, he reacted with fluidity and used the opportunity to re-position himself to a more profitable position. The silver sheen of the man's longsword lashed out, and Rhov would have used the opportunity to spring backward from now apparent threat of the new blade. He traded the benefit of striking distance for the safety of space. While he was no longer threatened by the dagger at his thigh, his enemy had the reach of a longsword in a relatively tight space.

Typical Syliran, assuming they owe nothing and are owed everything, Rhov thought to himself as he listened to the demands of the man. His grip tightened on the hilt of his father's blade, and he was half tempted to push the armored man to combat. He had height and reach advantage, but this was a tight alley with little room for the wide swings of a longsword, and Rhov did not doubt he could take the sot if needed. But, as much as it made his blood boil to admit it, the man had made a fair pint, every second he wasted here was another that his mark moved past his ability to track. Besides, the man looked to be part of the Order, and fighting a Knight was too much trouble to be worth it.

With a grunt, Rhov sheathed the curved edge of his blade back into his holster. His hand went to his belt to remove the folded piece of parchment which sat snugly in its pouch. He unfolded the yellowed piece of paper, revealing the name, description, and artist's depiction of Arthur Greene.

"My name is Rhov. I am a bounty hunter, finding the man that your Order could not. That woman will lead me him. You want to tag along to impress your handlers, fine. But this is my hunt," he growled out in a low tone to the taller man, stalking out in anger after his rapidly disappearing lead. Arguing with the man would have only increased the distance the woman had put between them, and Rhov needed this arrest if he was going to build up his reputation.

The second he reentered the main hallway, Rhov's coal-black eyes scanned frantically for hide or hair of the woman he was tracking. Fiery red-locks rapidly disappearing behind a twisting corner denoted her departure, and Rhov forced his footsteps to fall silent against the cobble floor as he hurried after her. From behind him, he could he the subtle shifting of plate and mail as what he assumed was the would-be-knight trailed after him. Rhov rolled his eyes in displeasure, it appeared that he would have unwanted company on this hunt. Fine. I can deal with one dog of the Order.

As he reached the joining of this passageway with the one the woman had entered, Rhov slowed to a stop. He held on a copper-colored hand to motion for his unwelcome companion to do the same, and slipped a single finger around the corner. His eyes closed, and he devoted the whole to his focus to the innate senses gifted to his race. Rhov let a grin slide onto his face as he felt the woman's movement again, the whisper-soft shifting of air revealing her position to him. Still, however, he did not move from his spot, and a tense stillness overtook the atmosphere of the alley. Finally, he felt his mark's movement slow to a stop, and Rhov turned the corner.

The woman fiddled with the locked entrance to a unmarked door, the jingling of brass keys setting the hallway alight with sound. With a satisfying click, the lock sprung open and the woman disappeared into the doorway without a second thought. Good. She never saw me, and after I catch Greene, I can surprise her with what I know. I gain a contact of my own in the Herald's Arms, and a criminal is put away. Everybody wins.

As the door slammed shut, Rhov sprang into motion. He rushed to the entrance where the woman had spirited herself into, and took a moment to gather himself before entering. Turning, he saw the Squire still at his side.

"Come on Soldier Boy, lets get this over with," he grumbled in annoyance. He walked up the dull brown of the door, and tried the handle. It didn't budge in the slightest, the lock having reset after it closed. Sighing, Rhov pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "All right, we'll do it the hard way."

The bright buzz of Djed in his body was always hard to call upon outside of combat. Rhov found it much easier to center his focus when adrenaline was sharping his mind into a razor edge, and without its cool embrace, the Chaktawe had to force his mind to quiet itself. He grasped at the churning chaos which bit and burned underneath his skin, that eternal storm which raged ever onward within his being. It was like trying to hold smoke, every time the youth came close to clenching it, it danced out of his grip. After a few failed attempts, Rhov finally was able to feel the familiar thrum of Djed in his body. His arms fell slack to his side, and the muscles of his right leg tensed with new power. The limb shot forward against the solid oak of the door, his boot cleanly cracking the wood in its center. His Flux infused leg sent the carved lumber careening ope, leaving cracks at the point of impact.. Despite the exertion it took his untrained mind to call upon the power, Rhov smiled at the result. He bowed before the squire, head low and arms open. "After you, mi'lord," he implored with false courtesy.

However, the Chaktawe's confidence faltered at the sight of the room's interior. It proved sparse of all decorations save a table and four chairs. Seated at one was the bound figure of the woman he had been following, her face openly displaying horror. At the other was the cause if her terror. Arthur Greene, holding the wicked edge of a sword to the woman's elegant neck.

"Would you gentlemen care to take a seat?"

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

The split second it had taken for Alex to draw his own blade to the point of striking was completely nullified by a simple back step from Rhov. His advantage and his opponent’s had both been nullified within a flash. Good. Meant they were looking at things from equal ground. It was true though he was owed an explanation after all he wasn’t the one who leapt out of the shadows and pretty much pressed him against the wall with a knife at his side. A simple situation a simple search and retrieve mission was this badly jeopardized by this interloper? Izurdin give me strength…

Luckily his would be assailant saw some sense and slipped his blade into its sheath again. The smaller man had the strength and possibly the speed advantage but was Alex smart enough to overcome it? It seemed as if he wouldn’t have to find out. Slipping his own dagger into its sheath he listened to the man announce himself, his profession and what he already knew coupled with an insult. A small line of truth to it but still it wasn’t enough to rattle him. “Name’s Seig, and I flushed her out, so by simple proxy of that fact alone this is my target. You’re welcome to be a tool on that road.” A small smirk crossed Alex’s face, the unnerving calmness to him was something astounding. Still As he turned to go Rhov bolted past him. Intent on being first.

Alex sighed slightly and kept his motions as quiet as he could at a moderate pace. Now that more than likely she’d heard the whole event transpire between them she took off. Dammit, why can’t people just keep their nose out of things!? He groaned internally forsaking stealth at this point it would do him no good anyway. He picked up a swifter pace top close the gap. If this complete idiot hadn’t involved himself he could have done this smoothly and stealthily. But no, he had to prove himself to be billy big-balls. Catching the edge of her slipping behind an oaken door Alex took a moment to catch his breath, subdued and subtle so as not to show the lack of fitness he had. Then again he was running in almost eighty pounds of gear.

With the similarly hidden Rhov slipping free from a hiding place again they were faced with a simple obstacle. A door. Alex stepped towards it only to find Rhov darting past him yet again. Impatience. Pure impatience, and it was going to be a problem. Alex watched him try to force the door. And when that didn’t work Alex was half tempted to call upon a but of a darker side that he’d hoped he’d left in Nyka, Sunberth, and Ravok. He was going to force the lock with his blade. But no Rhov had other plans. With what seemed like super human strength he booted the door in at the lock. A good inch and a quarter of wood buckling beneath the bare boot. Simple math alone told Alex that it was too much force for a single man of that size to bear.

Unless he was of another race of course. Clearly he was but he doubted that he could have quite that much strength. Still the mocking gesture of the Bow was something that grated on him. Clearly he didn’t have any respect from the copper skinned tool. Exhaling slowly he stepped up to Rhov. A brief flash of punching him square in the jar from an uppercut passed his mind. But the thought simply fell away upon hearing, Greene’s voice ask for them to sit. You idiot…You endangered her life with the cataclysmic kick to the door. Alex could almost feel the pressure headache building.

The short-sword’s edge pressed against her neck. The delicate white skin parting lightly from the pressure as a bead of crimson ran down her neck and pooled in her bosom. Alex paused a moment contemplating a way out of this situation.
“Good morning Mr. Greene. Looks like were at a bit of an impasse. I don’t want you to kill the girl, I don’t want to kill you, and I don’t want you to escape…And you it appears want all three of those things.” Alex rolled a small look of contemplation around his face holding his hands up in front of him to show a good faith. And then quiet enough for Rhov to hear he spoke. “Right, play along or we lose both him and the girl.” He spoke from the corner of his moth as best he could not to move it. Luckily Greene hadn’t noticed as he was too focused on the tears now spilling from the girl’s eyes.

“Right then…drop your weapons…All of them!” Alex smiled lightly and obliged Mr. Greene hoping that Rhov would do much the same. Alex unbuckled the belt around his waist and placed the whole mess of his blades and arrows at the side, slipping his bow from over his shoulders too. He tossed them off to the side just out of his reach. “Now take a seat.” Alex nodded slowly pulling out a single chair of the four that circled the table. Taking a seat he hoped Rhov would follow. He had a plan and it would lead to all four of them getting out alive.

“So…Mr. Greene, how exactly did you think this situation would end?” Alex leant back in the chair, his arms folded across his chest. His fingertips fishing out a throwing knife slowly just to the point where the moment he needed it, it was ready. “This isn’t going to end well. You’ve threatened an innocent. A Member of the slyiran knights, and another citizen. That’s just adding to your other crimes Mr. Greene.” He sighed slowly and watched the blade of Greene’s tighten a little more against her throat. He couldn’t be hasty with his plan but he couldn’t afford to wait much longer.

“I’m getting out of here. And you two are going to help me do it. Or she dies.” Greene was serious, if either of them took the wrong motion the wrong instance they’d have a dead girl on their hands and a suspect fleeing into the void again. Alex just hoped that Rhov would follow his lead. Please do the right thing...Please.

[Rhov]

----

A small flame beat on endlessly against the encroaching darkness of the room in which Greene and the girl were. Light danced across the panicked faces of both their seated forms, and Rhov gnashed his teeth together in displeasure. This situation certainly complicated things, and the sheer terror plain across the woman's face told Rhov that this had not gone according to plan. Whatever her connection to Greene that her steps spoke of, desperation drove the man to act rashly and without thought. A concept that the Chaktawe himself was all too familiar with.

Alexander's words burrowed harshly into his ears, and despite hating the feeling of doing nothing, Rhov yielded to the man's request. The bounty hunter was not much of a social creature, and while he had he bursts of cunning, Arthur Greene required a different kind of cleverness. For now, at least.

Never breaking eye-contact with his quarry, Rhov unsheathed his blade and dropped it at his feet. He stalked forward to chair without missing a beat, unsettling onyx eyes bearing down upon Greene all the same. As much as he wanted to jump the cowardly figure and clamp him in irons, Rhov would not put an innocent in danger without just cause. He would play Alex's little game for as long as it suited him, and when the hunter saw an opportunity for advantage, he would pounce. Dead or alive, Greene was a wanted man. And as a thin line of crimson dribbled down the woman's neck, Rhov was seriously considering taking a corpse to the Order instead of a criminal.

Only half-listening to the verbal exchange between Alex and the arsonist, the Chaktawe turned his focus to the more subtle signs of the conversation. One of the advantages of his solid-black eyes, besides being downright unnerving, was that it proved very hard to tell where Rhov was looking at. Eyes absence of pupils or iris, one would have to try and track the quiet movements of the youth's head to determine where he was looking. So during the span of the conversation, Rhov could freely observe Greene's body language while appearing invested in his demands.

His hand, there's a tremor. The slightest hesitation, The hunter thought to himself, forcing his face to remain still as he took in the information. It was a whisper of a movement, something that wouldn't have even been noticed if one wasn't watching closely. A small detail, but it revealed an even larger picture. He's nervous. Not for his safety, but for hers. It made some semblance of sense to Rhov, the man had slipped free from the Order's grasp and had plenty of time to stowaway on a boat. But he had stayed for near two weeks, all while keeping in contact with this particular woman. That spoke of a relationship, an intent to take her with him. And now he knew that he had been caught, and he didn't want the girl to be implicated. So Greene played the part of the madmen, while his whore acted the victim.

Rhov thought back to the charges laid at Greene's feet. Theft of two hundred mizas, assault, and arson; all of which involved a Mister Rusilov. The theft could have been small time, but stabbing a man and burning down his home? That spoke of passion, of a personal type of hatred. But what connects Rusilov, Greene, and the woman? There is something I'm missing.

Like lighting, inspiration struck the Chaktawe to resounding effect, sending shock-waves of alacrity spiraling through his synapses. It was the money. Two hundred mizas wasn't something that a person took lightly, that was an enormous amount of cash. Large enough to start a life somewhere else. A life with someone else. Rusilov was the man who stood in the way of that, and would have ruined the entire scheme if he was left alive. So Greene took measures to ensure that Rusilov wouldn't be able to report the theft, stabbing him and burning the evidence to the ground. It explained why Greene stayed despite having ample opportunity to leave, he still wanted to start that life with the woman. The woman he now so convincingly threatened. Rhov had to give it to Greene, he was quite the sneak. No wonder he managed to lose his armored pursers at the start of this entire debacle.

Rhov bit his lip in contemplation as the conversation drew to a close, and his mind scrambled for a plan. He had to act now, when Greene thought he had them pinned and while the man didn't expect resistance. Ah hell, the knight's not going to enjoy this.

"No," Rhov stated coldly, iron-clad refusal apparent in his tone. "You won't. You're going to drop the sword, or I will kill you." The Chaktawe stood up calmly and without hesitation. He savored every step as he slowly closed the distance between Greene and himself, watching fear overtake the smaller man's face. He felt a hunter closing in on his prey, and Greene found himself corned and in the maw of the beast. Still, however, the criminal did not release his grip on the shaped still which hovered over the woman's neck. Could the bounty hunter be wrong, jumped to too many conclusions in a desperate attempt to come out above his unwelcome companion? No, I can't be wrong. I know the look of a man intent to kill, and Greene's eyes show none of that. Rhov suppressed a sigh, Looks like we're doing this the hard way.

The raging storm of djed rose to a ferocious head underneath his skin, begging for release. His left arm went slack to his side, and his right burned with raw power. And in a single explosion of movement, all hell broke loose.

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

The whole affair screamed of a set-up. And one thing that Mr. Green didn’t account for was the varying patrol shift of the knights. It was what had lead him to get caught in the first place. If not. Then well he would have probably gotten away with it. But now here he was. Trapped in this situation pressing a blade into his lover’s neck. After having beaten and stabbed his best friend after stealing from him. Perhaps this wasn’t his fault? Perhaps this was the work of another more manipulative harlot? As Alex sat there he could see a spark of realization about the incident hit Rhov. The whole affair screamed of a joint venture. The small spark of a puzzle fitting together. Yes what had taken Alex about four chimes with the notes his patron had pieced him to fit together. Rhov had just parsed out. With such a jolt to his system that even Alex who had been reclining had spotted. Perhaps erven the dynamic duo of dumb, or at least the moron and the praying witch.

Maybe though rhov hadn’t seen through the whole sordid affair? Perhaps he’d just pieced the bare facts together, but then he didn’t have all the facts. He just had what he’d been told. Rusilov and Greene were friends. Good ones. According to Mr. Rusilov at least. The whole shift in dynamic happened after Triss arrived in Greene’s life. And everything just spiralled downwards from there. Alex exhaled slowly and pushed himself up onto the back legs of the chair looking like he didn’t have a care in the world and ended up leaving Rhov to make the first move Alex kept his arms folded and took a small moment to adjust his aim mentally. His blade in his hand now, the small bar of steel sharpened and balanced for throws.

Slow breaths now left him as he began to calm his heart rate down. The mark of a hunter. If Rhov was as good of a hunter as he thought he was he’d notice the slowness of Alex’s breathing. Apparently he did and took that as the signal. A resounding no. A resolute answer to the statement posed by Mr. Greene. That the pair of them would help him and her escape. Alex just smiled. His vice still smooth and soft as satin silk. “Whoa, let’s not be hasty here Rhov. No-one needs to die here. Isn’t that right Mr. Greene?” A calm lull in the tense situation. Alex watched Rhov to his right question the situation. He could see Rhov debating about the situation. No. Don’t do it…Don’t jump to conclusions Don’t! Before Alex could even complete his last thought rhov was off.

Ah, damn it! Alex kicked the table forwards crashing it into both Arthur’s and Triss’s legs. The sudden impact caused the blade to drop. Alex unfolded his arms still balancing on the chair and tossed the blade in his hands out straight into Triss’ knee. Cutting one of the tendons. One immobilized. Now. Before he could even take the blade from his arm Arthur’s sword was already swinging at Rhov. This was so close to ending without any blood shed, and one hasty action had caused the entire situation to explode.

[Rhov]

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The discordant symphony of combat rang clearly throughout the small apartment. The crash of the table against solid bodies, the shrill cry of a woman in pain, Greene's half terrified roar as he swung his sword wildly, all such sounds collecting into an orchestral movement of conflict. Rhov wasn't much of a musical man, but this was a song he knew all too well.

Greene's swing was untrained, fueled by fear and aided by adrenaline. Even though the criminal moved first, his moves might as well have came from a mile away for how telegraphed they were. The sharp steel called for Rhov's blood as it sliced through the ecstatic air, but the Chaktawe was more than willing to respond in kind. It was a wide swing that came in from Rhov's right flank, and with the strength and speed of two, his right arm caught Greene's wrist before the blade bit into his body. With a swift twist and tuck into his underarm, the criminal cried out in pain. A sickening crack filled the room as the thin bones in the man's wrist broke, the sword clattering dully to the ground as a result. Greene's face twisted in anguish, tears welling bright in his eyes.

Still, the man pressed onward. Despite the superhuman abilities Flux granted, the drawbacks that came from sapping strength from specific limbs were inherent in the magical art itself. So when Greene followed up with a left hook to his body, Rhov had no arm to guard himself with. The blow landed solidly and with a surprising amount of strength, staggering the bounty hunter slightly as he rolled with the punch. Releasing his vice-grip on the man's arm, Rhov's knee slammed into his opponent's stomach. Greene doubled over and wheezed as the air was forced from his lungs, but Rhov did not give the man even the slightest reprieve from battle. His arm coiled back, a tempest of djed tensed behind Rhov's fist, and released with uproarious power into Greene's vulnerable mouth. Teeth and blood flew from the criminal's mouth as he wheeled from the weight of the blow. Crimson stained his remaining teeth as Greene met Rhov's unrepentant gaze.

"Arghh! You inhuman, brown, piece of shyke!" Greene cursed at Rhov through his broken jaw. The Chaktawe cocked his head curiously in response, almost puzzled by the insult. He blinked once, than twice, letting silence slowly seep into the tense air. Then, with an almost casual air about him, he flung Greene like a rag-doll into the solid stone of the wall with his Flux infused arm. The human slammed into the smooth structure, before sliding into a heap of bruised flesh on the ground.

Rhov guided the storm that churned and tore at his djed down into his legs, crossing the distance at unnatural speeds. He was down at Greene's level in an instant, grabbing the smaller man by the throat as he flooded strength back into his arm. Hard, onyx eyes crashed against the panicked orbs of his prey, fury crawling forth from his glare. A cruel, predatory grin overtook the stern lines of Rhov's face as he slowly sank his fingers into his opponent's thin throat. I could do it. Consequences be damned, I could do it right here, right petching now. Conflict was apparent in the bounty hunter as Greene feebly clawed at the thick meat of his hand. The temptation was honey-sweet, for far too long had Rhov suffered the quiet slights of Syliras. The angry stares as he walked the streets, the inherent distrust displayed by both citizen and Knight alike. He could take out all that buried anger in an instant. He could show everyone that he wouldn't be pushed around. That he wouldn't sacrifice his culture just to fit into theirs. That he could cross that line if they pushed hard enough.

Wrath wrestled for control in the Chaktawe as the seconds ticked slowly by. fury attempting usurp morality. An animalistic snarl slipped onto his face, and Rhov found himself near-growling at the unfortunate man before him.

Dead or alive, right? Citizen or corpse, it makes no difference to them. So why should make a difference to me?

Greene's airway was beginning to collapse, his lips quickly turning an unnatural shade of purple. His legs kicked dully at Rhov's body, but rage and Flux had all but numbed him to pain. Spit and blood frothed from his mouth as he struggled vainly against the bounty hunter's iron grip. Brown eyes bulged and seemed to vibrate in the poor man's skull. A few more seconds, Greene would pass out. A few more after that, he'd be dead.

Because if I'd did, if I crossed that line, I'd become the monster they believe me to be. I'd be no better than the men I hunt.

Rhov roared into Greene face, a horrible, feral sound whose source originated from the darkest parts of his mind. From the shards of hate that screamed at him to sink to their level, cut at his resolve, and slashed his hopes for equal treatment. Every single slight, every single insult slung at him because he was born as a different race and into a different culture than what they were used, he poured into that scream. And then, he let Greene drop to the ground, the rough outline of his fingers still apparent in the bruises which now littered the smaller man's neck.

Angry breathes surged out of the Chaktawe as he stalked over to retrieve his knife, uncaring of what Alexander thought or did during that display. He reequipped his blade to his belt almost ceremoniously, finding comfort in the familiar weight of his father's blade. He unhooked the manacles which swung silently at his side, and clamped them securely onto Greene.

"I'm cashing in this Awahtoklo. I'll talk to your Order if I have to, say whatever you want to make you look good, but this bastard is mine," Rhov spat out, rage coloring his every word. Coal-black eyes glared up at the towering form of Alex, almost daring the larger man to dispute him.

[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

The calamitous events happened in an instant, he’d dropped her like a light, but what worried Alex wasn’t either of them escaping. It was the sheer force that Rhov was hitting with. A man that size shouldn’t be able to cause strike with anywhere close to that kind of force. The crack and crunch of bone splitting filled the room even the cry of Triss was silenced in that instant. Before anything else happened Alex re-belted his blades around his body. Making sure to draw is bastard sword. In the midst of the chaos that was occurring Alex turned to the door and sent out a sharp whistle. Hoping to signal any nearby knights to come running. Because if the whistle didn’t then the sheer clamorous nature of the events would have.

The words of Green rang out as Alex turned his head back around he caught the events just in time to see green flying off like a rag doll. That was “inhuman” but not in the derogatory way that Greene had meant it. And then the sheer speed at which Rhov closed the distance between himself and green was just ludicrous. Hearing the loud footfalls of steel on stone Alex knew knights were on their way and with that his attention was snapped back to reality by a guttural and primal scream. Rhov was literally squeezing the life out of Greene. Alex looked over at Triss slowly crawling away. The whole thing had gone to heck because Rhov like so many others couldn’t contain his rage. And didn’t think ahead.

Alex drew his bastard sword. Given the size of the room and his familiarity with the blade by this point. He waited and watched. The moment Rhov pulled away from the now limp but still living body of Green Alex stepped in to fill the space. Now acting as a shield rather than a blade. The sound of the knights foot falls were much louder now a couple more ticks and they’d be here. Alex watched Rhov slip the blade onto his back and as he did he spoke. He was cashing him in? After all the work that Alex did? And if he thought he was getting out of here without filling in some blanks then he was dead wrong.

The knights were within fifty feet of the door now. “Well, all good for you isn’t it? Unfortunately it’s not for me. I’ve questions and considering what I just watched I want answers.” Alex lifted his arm with the shield strapped too it and rested his blade atop the shield. He was ready to fight if necessary. He exhaled slowly, perhaps this wasn’t the best idea but if he wanted answers he was going to need to ask. “Well…Green Isn’t going to need those manacles…You broke his wrists after all. Secondly, you shouldn’t be able to hit quite that hard at your size. At least not hard enough to break a wrist and then toss a full grown man like a doll. Third, this man is a fugitive from the knights. Ergo he’s knight property. Same as the woman behind you.”

Just a couple ticks more and the Knights would be at the door and he could arrest the whole group. “I’ve nothing against you…except the whole pinning me to a wall thing. So I’ll give you some advice. Either leave now or you’ll have to answer to the two knights on their way here for disturbing the peace.” He gave him an alternative. Either leave the building now and slip off into the darkness of the corridors or he could stay and try and answer to the knights. Every word of Alex’s was still soft, smooth and unnervingly calm. He didn’t have all the cards but it was good to pretend that you did. His blade scraped lightly against the steel of his shield if Rhov brought whatever force to bear that allowed him to toss Greene like a towel Alex would be read to lash out and return the favour from his position. Alex slowed his breaths now. This could go south at any moment. And if it does I'm in the worst possible spot...Calm the situation and control the events.

The knights were almost at the doors now, Rhov’s escape window was closing and if he was still here when the Knights got here then Alex would inform them fully about what he’d seen. If he wasn’t then he’d still inform them but leave out names. “Besides. Why do you want Greene? I get you’re a bounty hunter but there isn’t a bounty on Greene that I know of. Least not one sanctioned by the knights.” Alex was now stalling him Hoping that he’d get caught. Please get here in time, I don't want this one slipping away and possibly killing someone.