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[Belinda]

74th, winter, 515 av

At night there is a whole other world. The cold and darkness held innumerable hidden secrets. Belinda was one of them as she hugged a corner of a building. She had carefully followed a couple of thieves that were rather noisy at it. Must be their first heist as they didn’t even look behind them or check for anything. This was perfect. Deal with these blundering shyteheads and get the mizas. These mizas would serve the poor section better than some merchant or anyone else’s purse.

She was all in black. Belinda spent time binding her breasts down before putting the black leather armor. She was hooded and masked as all you saw before the rapier came out was a matching gleam of steel in those grey eyes. The jump of surprise had the advantage of the lunge getting the smaller one into the throat as she twisted and pulled to finish the cut out at an angle. He turned as his neck was already bleeding to draw a weapon. The downward slash of the cutlass was mared by that side as blood seeped out of the wound down his shirt. There were a few colorful words spouted as the slash of the cutlass was parried with a flick of a wrist and the lunge after was just as quick as it went for the throat. Down he went to bleed out of the ground. The rapier was pointed then at the larger assailant. The quiet of the snow was marred only by the purposeful movement of the feet circling each other.

The smaller man had dropped the purse of mizas as the black masked one kept it between her feet. The larger man could run if he wanted but he just looked at the purse and didn’t seem to overly bright as he clumsily pulled a rusted long sword. The way he was holding it did not speak of any acuity. ‘Really? You’re going to be that stupid? ‘ The woman then chiding herself as why she even asked that question as the man rushed her. The agile girl side stepped and as he passed by her booted foot went on his butt and pushed him into the wall as hard as she could. She wasn’t cold blooded as the man had ran himself into unconsciousness. She checked him over as he seemed to still be breathing but she didn’t envy the headache he would have in the morning. She stabbed her blade into the snow to clean it. Wiped it on the cloak of the fallen one and picked the purse up to tuck it into her belt securely.

The black masked one moved where she was in the shadows as she stepped up on barrels to find a hand hold as the gloved hand pulled herself up carefully and as quietly as possible. She looked back and hoped the snow would cover the trail but the barrel was also overlooking a window. That was her distraction. Most would think she may have entered that building. She went higher and climbed up foot holds and hand holds up onto the top edge of the stone ceiling and edging to follow the shadows around. She went into a hand stand so her feet could grasp a railing and she lifted her torso by her strong midsection as she made her way to the ‘roof’ tops.

[Alexander Faircroft]

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

The nightshift. Oh how Alex hated the night shift. The last five times he’d been on it he’d found himself in situations that tested his resolve his mettle and his strength. An incident with a zith squire, a lost kelvic, a bar room brawl, among other incidents. The soft rattle of his foot falls jolted his mind awake again, even with the crunching of the snow under foot. A silent evening of calm and peace. Perhaps this was what Alex needed. Perhaps he’d just needed some time alone with his thoughts. Only then did he hear something that caught his attention. He hissed through his teeth hearing the cusses and then…Nothing.

Alex was manning the colonnades. The upper walls of the castle, and annoyingly enough the sound had come from behind him. As he wheeled around to see the source. And now the pool of crimson spilling into the snow under torchlight and a black clad figure running off into the distance, vaulting onto the roofing below him. Alex knew that sign. Someone was dead and the culprit was trying to make a break for it. Alex bolted. He ran as hard as he could for the stairwell, leaping over three steps at the end feeling his knees buckle under the weight but right now he didn’t have time to spare.

He rounded the corner onto the open rooftops. The frigid winter air rolled over the ‘roof’ top, dirty blonde hair whipped with it. Alex and the masked figure now stood opposite each other. He closed the gap drawing his blade. The bastard sword he was so used to training with, and on his left arm his shield strapped. He stared the figure down. He didn’t want to fight, nor did he like violence, but in this instance a life was taken. A life that wasn’t theirs to take. Alex grit his teeth and lifted his shield. His soft voice laced with fury. “Stop right there. You’ve committed murder and you’re under arrest. Resist and you forfeit your life.” Alex didn’t mean the last part but he had to say it. He had to let this figure know he meant business. His fingers tended on the bastard sword as he started to close the gap.

Dim moonlight displaying the figures form even against the blackness. The thing Alex saw standing out was the shining glint of the rapier at the figures side. He was prepared for an attack or for the figure to try and flee. An option which seemed the more likely given the armour and blades Alex was burdened with. Despite this he’d had over a full season to adjust to the weight and could move at an even pace for a very short time with an unburdened person.

[Belinda]

‘Shyte!! What the hell was he doing here? He wasn’t supposed to be here.’ He eyes widened briefly as he confronted her. There was a chuckle as he said murder as she lifted her arms briefly in mock submission as she backed away. The black clad figure didn't say a word nor did the person draw the weapon. The snow over his head a collection point over his head as the clever black clad person suddenly jumped up to grab another hand hold swing her feet to kick at the collection point of snow where it would hopefully dump on the armor clad squire giving her time to run. She didn’t want to hurt him. That was the last thing she wanted.

She took off as her feet went right on one hold then left picking up a little speed as careful footing was compromised. Her hands went out to try a hand spring from the hand stand on the run. She got the springing part right but landed a bit off on her behind onto a roof at an odd angle about three feet up. She looked back to see his pursuit as she took off. The man can move in that armor and she had to give him credit for being able to move. She had a bit of an edge in mobility as she looked around for a way to loose him. She chose quickly and rashly as she took off in a direction away from the poor section to maybe loose him in the merchant section. Maybe.

She had spent her time in Syliras to at least get to know some of the nooks and crannies but at this speed things blurred and were not as familiar. She ran into a dead end where she was surrounded by stone. Turning around as he was in pursuit, she attempted to jump onto an overhang and leap past his head. Her landing found slick ground as she slid and collided with stone as she felt that bruise was coming. She hit edges and over hangs on her way down to a flat location. Once she came sliding to a halt she stood up to check for pursuit as a few more bruises would be noted as she winced but she had no time to think on that.

[Alexander Faircroft]

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

Alex edged forwards slowly. Slow moments so as not to spook the figure, though as he’d spoken they gave a gesture of submission. Alex slipped his bastard sword back into its sheath as he. Perhaps he wouldn’t need to do anything hast-wait…As he went to pull out the manacles which were standard issue. The figure started to bolt dumping an overhang of snow over him. He shivered now feeling soaked through where his body heat had melted the white waterfall. Dammit!

The figure took off running and Alex gave pursuit, he pushed himself and pushed hard, keeping up pace with the figure as best he could His feet pounded against the ground the weight of his armour and the clink of the steel letting them know full well he was after them. She bolted away from the housing district towards the merchant quarter. Judging from the actions they sought to lose him somehow. Alex followed them in and slowed his footwork wanting to conserve his energy. Running in steel plate and chain drained stamina like nobody’s business. He took off through the stalls, knowing as a resident where to cut the figure off. A slightly shorter route with a much greater efficiency of movement.

Alex missed the leap into the central mass of the stalls but instead circled around to the merchant quarter entrance. His foot falls falling to near silence as he appeared from behind one of the archways. Almost like a ghost, a spectre rather than a human. A wraith bent on capturing them, luckily for the figure and unluckily for Alex both hadn’t run across any full knights and as such were on their own. Alex shifted around the pillar and gave the figure a hard look. Unless the figure was paying close attention Alex doubted they’d notice the fact that he’d removed his shield. Should they try to run again and flee from him he’d hurl it like a disc beneath the figures feet attempting to trip them up.

He was hoping that the figure also wouldn’t see the visible exertion on him. The fact that even with the armour on his shoulders were heaving from the burst of speed he’d had to muster. He was hoping that he could catch them off guard, if they tried to run because in this exact moment he doubted he could muster the strength to sprint after them again. Evening his voice as best he could he spoke with an airiness. “Stop running. You’re only making it worse for yourself.”

[Belinda]

'Damn it!' Belinda picked herself up in time to be confronted by the squire. The black clad head shook slowly as the black gloves dusted off snow and debris from its bottom, shoulder and sides. There was a huffing chuckle as the head still slowly shook. The rapier was drawn slowly as she placed herself into position. The forward food was pointing towards the squire. The back foot was blocked and squared in a T formation behind her forward foot. The off arm was behind curved up elegantly as she held the blade with some knowledge of its use.

The black clad figure tried pitching the voice low. “you have no idea what you are doing.” She tried hardening her voice even rasping it on purpose. They all were blind. All of the knights were blinded by the very fact of the poor condition their people were in. The uneven distribution of wealth and the very cancer that was growing that she saw in the working poor and the destitute. That was why she did what she did. “you can either let me be on my way as civilized people or this can end badly.” The forced rasp hurt her throat but she couldn’t let him know that she was female. The threat was halfhearted as she had no desire to hurt him or kill him.

The cold air moved around them as the edges of her dark garments moved but little. She almost blended into the darkened shadows with only the glint of grey eyes. She didn’t move from her offensive position nor did she offer a strike but merely waited for him to decide a course of action. That would most probably be to attack as the knights are taught. There was a glimmer of hope the out would be taken but somehow she had a sinking suspicion he would not take that.

[Alexander Faircroft]

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

His breathing evened out in the few moments it took for the figure to prop itself up. An impasse, the only way she was leaving was in chains or over his body. Lex’s hand clasped around the handle of his blade even dropping his shield. The thin swiftness of the blade would make it only a hindrance. Alex drew the blade from his side. The sharp glisten of the steel in the pale and pallid moonlight, both is blade and his armour illuminated lightly. Shadow and light. An odd contrast for the situation. Speed on one side and power on the other.

Normally this was a reversed circumstance. Alex had the knowledge of being superior on speed and technique but here it felt as though he was at a disadvantage in both. Alex raised his sword to his side pointing the tip of the blade towards her, his stance widened out slightly granting him a firmer foot hold. His other hand side on in front of him. Bereft of his usual benefits, instead he’d have to rely on the figure making a mistake.

He had no idea what he was doing? What did the figure know about what he was doing? Let them be on their way?! What kind of madness? Alex retorted to the rasped voice, an odd pitch to it for it to have a rasp though…Still no matter.
“I don’t know what I’m doing? You’ve taken a life, I’m pretty sure I know exactly what I’m doing I’m taking a murder in for justice!” Alex stepped in.

It was difficult to pin an exacting location on the figure within the dim moonlight and the shadow the walls offered Alex was at a disadvantage he was a beacon of where to strike and where to hit and the figure as now more one of smoke than structure. Alex closed the gap again, another small step, he had the reach advantage from his blade. Though with his positioning of it, that became a negated factor. Taught to keep himself ready to block a strike that came in rather than to throw one. Alex snapped his blade forwards hoping to sue the flat of the blade to knock the tip of the rapier away and then bring the point of his own sword forwards.

Less trying to harm the figure and more trying to disarm it. Perhaps put them in a position where they’d realize they weren’t in a position to win. The best Alex could do was what he was trying to do, to rearrange the situation to suit himself and force a mistake from them.

[Belinda]

Justice, of course he would see the justice of a murdered soul. The wrist moved quickly to parry his flat blade as she moved to the side and with just as quick movements the point of the rapier struck to the chest hitting the armor or more tapping it. It was so light that it might have been viewed a mistake. The black clad figure purposely missed the shot between the armor sections. The footing backed away as she beckoned him forward as the clang of blades rang out.

His broad sword was met with the flat of the rapier as the motion of the parry would send his angle off missing his intended target. The riposte afterwards would angle down and arc the tip onto the gauntlet hand. The act of sniping the hand to loosen the sword grip in its intention as if he dropped his weapon she would try and run for it. He needed a different blade in her opinion but this was no time for critique. Again he came with the broad sword as the heavy blade was met with the quick parry and movement of the rapier. The blade went zooming past her shoulder as she moved in time for the sharp blade to edge the armor and her carefully concealed hood. Part of her hair came down a bit.

He was either out to kill her for the erroneous justice he thought he was rightfully performing or he was advancing on her to take control. The movements of the black clad person refused to take a targeted hit as she tried to parry and disarm him in some way or get an advantage to make a run for it. The next parry and lunge had the flat of the blade hopefully to damage one of the leather bindings of one of the plates, maybe. Big maybe. It was a gamble. The rapier swirled in to lock onto the broad sword to bring herself closer to him. She smelled of sweat and oddly of something else. The other hand would reach for a buckle while locked in a she attempted to struggle with him by physical force. Once pushed back as he was stronger than she perceived to be, hopefully the leather strap would have loosened with that piece of armor compromised. “The justice you seek is not what you think it is.” The voice rasped on purpose and pitched low, though it had softened in the huff of the combat. The sweat around her eyes showed the effort she was under.

[Alexander Faircroft]

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

He wasn’t a killer, he wouldn’t become one. Though watching his blade become parried with such an easy flick was something that made him worry. Alex watched the blade then dart in and he feared the worst but feeling the point collide with his chest plate was something he didn’t expect. Perhaps they’d simply had their strike taken off course by the weight of his blade. The figure was playing with him. Toying. That was the feeling he got watching them retreat to gain ground, and then beckon for him to come closer.

The second action they performed as he closed the gap again as the figure struck at his sword knocking it back and a sharp sting felt across his wrist. Alex felt his hand want to instinctively flick open and drop his blade. Thankfully his grip still held firm even with the pain across his wrist now, the joint sore and stiff. However in the strike at his wrist the figure hadn’t fully stopped his motion as the blade punched through cloth and tore a hole in the hood. Alex swore he caught glimpse of black hair fall from the now opened wound in figures clothing.

Speed, good gods above the figure had speed for days. Alex tried to close the gap again only to see the blade dart out again slipping between the layers of his plate, slipping beneath his pauldron. Thankfully there was no puncturing of the chain beneath but the blade little to his knowledge had severed the strap holding the pauldron in place. Ale’s bastard sword was then locked into the rings of the figures rapier using the guard itself to disable his weapon. Was the figure intentionally trying to not harm him?

Alex rolled the thought around in his mind briefly as the figure closed the gap to him. Alex’s free hand motioned to dart up and grab the figures wrist as it went for the buckle on his weapon harness. But as he shot his arm up the leather belt her blade had caught snapped and the pauldron slipped pinning his arm in place. The figure reached the buckle as the smell of exertion filled his nose coupled with something else. Something familiar. The Justice he sought? What did they know of what he sought? “I seek justice for the life you stole.” Alex could feel their blades between them pinned in place and his arm now locked Alex pushed the figure off of him and used the opportunity to pull the pauldron off with his other hand.

He could see the physical effort that they were under beginning to show. He himself was feeling the effects of a spring combined with combat. It wasn’t pretty. Alex made a snap decision, a brief moment of thought. Now free of movement. Alex changed his stance instead of holding his blade back he chose to mirror the figures own but with a few alterations to account for the weight of his blade. He pointed the tip of the blade to the ground his other arm back and his feet lined up instead of the T shape the figure had.

He hoped the figures attention would be on the weapon and not his rear hand, as he brought the blade up his rear hand pulled the throwing dagger free of his vambrace. Dagger now in his hand he attempted to mask its presence. He then tossed it towards her not aiming at her but instead in the wood of the stall to her right. A hard look in his eyes as he spoke. “I’ve more than just the weapons on display.” Alex spoke with a clarity and a confidence. He then brought the blade in the air around now to collide with full eight at the base of the rapier, he was going to wrench it from their grip with raw force however, he used the flat of the blade again. His singular strike was aimed to disarm and distract as he reached his other hand in attempting to go grab the figure’s clothing, though in the darkness that engulfed them that was more like than not to be a miracle.

[Belinda]

Was he mocking her? She watched in guarded curiosity as he matched her stance or attempted some symblance. She knew he had more weapons than most. The hand that went for the dagger and the throw had her snapping her body to the side. It wizzed by her face before his body and blade came to slam into her own in a surprising tactic and a power move.

“I’ve more than just the weapons on display.”

He was going for raw power at this juncture. She had no time to change her voice as she said “I know.”

As his body weight leaned against hers she bent like the reeds in the wind in her flexibility as she went to the ground and rolled with the armored man but not before he managed to grab her mask. She rolled away and was on her feet as the raven haired beauty stared back into his green eyes with her brilliant molten grey eyes.

She shook her head at him. “Alex, you don’t know what you’re doing? The man killed someone else for this.” She hefted the purse at her waist. “His conspirator lays face down in the snow as he made friends with the wall.” She started pacing back and forth. The limp and bruising she felt all over as the pain was hitting her but her anger was more so.

“Why Alex? You are blind as a bat to what’s around you and you couldn’t just let me go.” She sheathed her rapier. “Damn it all to hell.” She started pacing again trying to figure out how to cover this. She had not given up the purse of coin.

[Alexander Faircroft]

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

The burst of power the raw effort to overwhelm the figurer and the grip he’d managed to find purchase on something though as the voice hit him it became very clear to him who it was even before he saw her face. As they’d tumbled to the ground and he’d reached up attempting to grab a hold of a point on her the hair. The hair alone was what told him he was going to regret his actions. She’d rolled through and out of his reach as he now held the mask, the hood of cloth.

Damnit. Why does everyone I meet. Everyone I feel ANYTHING towards…Turn out to be a killer!? Alex was visibly pained at this point. Not by anything she’d struck him with nor any physical wound but instead a mental one. He tossed his sword to the side and punched the ground, on knew knee he could feel the skin on his knuckled beneath his gauntlets and the chain and the gloves tearing. Any harder and he’d of broken bone. “Why?” The word came out. Her explanation came swift and punctual. Full of every explanation that would make sense but Alex wasn’t in the right head space.

He held his gaze down now, his eyes not rising to meet hers. His teeth pressed together and his form compacted. A sack of gold. A purse of coin…A vision back to the things his father had done for just that. A brief glimpse into the past. He struck the ground again. Damnit. Coin. He looked up at her now, a face filled with rage, blind anger. Yet behind that in his yes was a hurt. A pain seeded and left to bloom long ago. He rose. Swelling from the floor with a look of thunderous anger and a feel coming off of him that he was going to do something deeply unpleasant. He stalked towards her as she paced. Each foot fall accompanied by the thunderous rattle of the plate. He wasn’t trying to be quiet, nor to be light of foot. He was filled with anger. Rage. Pain.

He closed the distance slowly, and rose a hand into the air. He swung. But he wasn’t aiming to strike her. Instead his arm was aimed to go around her waist. He closed his eyes and spoke. He was angered but strangely there was something there. A place that a pain snuck into his voice from. “Why…Why didn’t you call for the knights? Why?” All he wanted was an answer, no hidden meanings no masking of reasons. That’s all he wanted.