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[Alexander Faircroft]

1st Summer 516AV

12:21PM

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

A station once again in the mythrin. He’d been there since the eighty-eighth of spring and as much as he liked it peacefully and quietly out there He wanted to get back. He still clung onto the memory of the now only child he’d failed, and the bravery of his brother. Alex sighed slowly the canter of the hose he rode took a slow meaningful trudge. He’d grown somewhat attached to the jet black stallion that he rode on now. His eyes closed beneath his helmet, the thin visor limiting the light and allowing him a brief moment to think. He exhaled slowly he hated wearing a helmet but since his training with Imass and the brief encounter with Ser Algens he’d taken to wearing one whilst on patrol or outside the city. Quite often hiding ones face was essential to keep the people they cared about safe. He may not have ad anyone like that but it was still better in case that ever occurred.

A familiar sound rang out the sound of panic. However this time it wasn’t just one parent, it was two. Both the mother and the father were searching for their missing daughter. Alex galloped the horse over to the sound as fast as possible. Wheeling his leg over the back of the horse he dismounted and spoke in a calm but concerned tone.
“Excuse me, my name is Alexander Faircroft I’m a squire with the syliran knights is there anything that I can help with?” As he finished speaking the mother burst into tears. Both a familiar and soul crushing sight. Alex nodded slowly knowing at least a little what was going on.
“Our daughter’s missin’. She’s been missin’ since yesterday mornin’ but we we assumed she was with the neighbour’s boy… But he aint seen her neither.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, how old is she?” Alex asked with a look of concern hidden behind a steel curtain.
“She’ll be seventeen this fall. Please, ser…Find our daughter.” Alex nodded lightly as the man pressed his wife’s face gently into his shoulder trying to comfort her and reassure her. Alex however had seen a disappearance like this before. But last time they’d only been gone a couple of hours. Not a full twenty-four plus. Alex slipped passed them and into the house.

His first stop was to check that her room hadn’t been broken into if that wasn’t the case then he’d have a much more difficult time of getting a lead. He stepped into the plain but somewhat, well used quarters. Bed left in a heap. Clothes in a pile. He crouched down and pressed the mailed fingers of his hand into a dark spot on the ground. Tacky, dark, and a strong smell of iron. Semi dried blood. No source but that was obvious. However what was not was the next thing he looked at. The window. Not broken, intact mostly however what threw him was the lock. It had been broken through the wood. The bolt still locked in place but the wood shattered behind it. Entry point. Simplest of kidnappings, enter through the window, the target wakes up a swift blow to the head and they’re out cold. Whilst being the easiest to pull off, difficult to track.

Alex pressed his hand into the wooden frame of the window and hopped through it. He wasn’t the largest nor heaviest of people but in all his gear getting through that thing was a challenge. If the assailant was carrying an unconscious cargo, then he’d have to carry her. And that meant he’d be slow. Scanning the floor and thanking Priskil for the rains he caught sight of a set footprints in the softened mud. He wasn’t the best at tracking but following a trail. He could do. Whistling for his horse as it came around he took a moment to mount up before riding off after the trail.

[Dove Brown]

Dove knelt to get a better look at what seemed to be rabbit tracks running through the slightly muddy field of corn. With summer, the creatures born that spring started to appear, young and foolish and fairly predictable, which made them excellent prey for a young, not-particularly-good hunter like Dove. The mud just made it even easier, and she rose back to her feet and followed as quietly as she could. She was small enough, and the corn high enough, that she was hidden from obvious view, but she could see enough to put her feet down between the rows, in the dip meant for holding fertiliser. That meant that the corn didn't move much around her, or give her away, and there wasn't much to make noise underfoot except slightly sucking mud.

She saw the tracks turn off into the corn, drew her sling and slipped a bullet into it, then parted the corn stalks. It hadn't been a rabbit after all, it had been a young hare that now sat frozen on its form for a moment too long. Dove's sling whipped through the air beside her, she fired at short range, and the bullet smacked the leveret between the eyes. It crumpled instantly, and she leaned forward to pick up her dinner, just as a whistle pierced the air.

Dove froze like the hare for a moment, then snatched the animal up and wrung its neck to make fully sure that it was dead, not just stunned. Then she slid it into her empty backpack, swung the new load across her back, and turned for the edge of the field. A breeze brought her the smell of iron and oil, and horse-sweat, and the sound of hooves on damp earth, and she wrinkled her nose. That combination suggested it was one of the knight's patrols, and she would rather not have to come to their attention. There was an open path along the edge of the field, packed harder than the ground either side, and more trampled. She paused there, looking round, and saw that the rider - yes, an armoured knight - was approaching the path from the opposite side, helmeted head bent to follow a trail of his own. She couldn't see his face for the helmet, but something about his shape and movements looked familiar. With a sinking sensation in her guts, she looked down and away.

The trail he was following looked human, and heavy, but even that would be harder to pick out from the many footprints on the path - including Dove's own. She looked anyway, using what little knowledge of tracking she had. Experience told her not to get involved, to stay clear of the knights, to especially stay clear of this squire, if he was who her gut thought he was. She hadn't seen that one since he forced his way into her home to threaten and berate her. She hadn't wanted to ever see him again, had hoped never to meet him again, but wishes and dreams hardly ever came true for her, and it looked like they wouldn't again. Instinct, however, told her that the knighthood would remember if she didn't help, and that would be even worse. She swallowed hard, cleared her throat, and asked, "Looking for someone?"

[Alexander Faircroft]

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

The trail was partially lost in the smear of the mud and the lack of open sight. However this was something he’d encountered before. A kidnapping but last time it’d ended much more poorly. Something in his soul told him it want going to end that way again. His sword rattled against his hip with each of the horse’s movements. Keeping his gaze towards the ground was the only way he was managing to spot the trail. He wasn’t great at tracking but he’d spent enough time learning some tricks of how to see beyond seeing, whatever that meant. Only when his focus was growing in sharpness to the point where his vision almost slipped into the world of colour a voice snapped him back to reality.

Softer. Lighter, but wizened. One he knew well and one he’d lost his temper with prior. With the mask of his helm over his face he glanced over his shoulder briefly to confirm his thoughts. And true enough it was her.
“Two actually. A girl about your age dove. Kidnapped and taken. I’m following the trail as best I can but tracking isn’t my strong suit. Could I get a hand?” He tilted his visor down just enough tor her to see the stark green of his eyes even beneath the shade of the helm. “I’m sorry if I seem curt also but I’m not going to lose another person if I can help it.” He was being honest with her as best he could. She may have hated both him and the knights as far as he knew but that didn’t mean someone else had to die, or worse because of it. He was willing to pack away his pride for the time and focus on finding the missing person. He didn’t say anything further just offering her a hand if she wanted to hop up on the horse, or if she turned it away he’d let her follow the trail and keep close behind.

[Dove Brown]

It was him. Following a kidnapped girl her own age. Petch it. Petch everything... She avoided looking at the green eyes by crossing to get a close look at the track he'd been following. She measured the depth wih her fingers, size against her own foot, then stride length with quick handspans. "Look," she said shortly, "it curves a bit at the end. He knew the track was here and started turning before he reached it. And he went that way." She pointed, then let him pull her up behind him on the horse. At this way she didn't have to look at his face. Or the helm hiding it. The horse moved off and she clutched instinctively at him for balance as she bounced and jolted against its rump. She could drive a horse, after a fashion. She didn't ride them. She preferred her own two feet, or a cart, or anything that didn't involve being thrown around like a recalcitrant sack of grain.

"This path," she muttered, looking down at it, "passes a shepherd's shelter about three fields over. This time of year it's popular with lovers. And others. Out of the way, out of immediate sight. Easy to get to." It had been one of her brother's favoured places. She'd trailed him there often enough, or led people there to meet him. It was a way to earn a scrap more food or a copper miza or two. She squashed the memories back down, focusing instead on the feel of the horse under her and the pack banging against her back. "Worth trying if you lose the trail." It was hard enough to follow a trail on a hard-packed path, harder still from horseback, when you were further up and away from it, not to mention jouncing so that it was hard to keep it in sight. She was going to hurt when she got off, that was for sure.

[Alexander Faircroft]

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

Shepard’s shelter ? The rumour mill was rife with suspicions about that place however Dove quickly cleared up that little quandary and washed away any misconceptions about the place. Alex glanced over his shoulder as she settled herself atop the horse and then spoke softly as was his usual manner. However after their last meeting his tone was lighter gentler than usual almost as if trying to soothe a wound rather than gash it open once again. “Hold on tight, we haven’t got long and I don’t want to waste time.” The moment he finished and he felt her arms tighten, and then pressed the heel of his boot into the horses flank and took off at a full gallop.

Winds rushing past his eyes and memories and dread running through his mind. He couldn’t waste time he could leave another parent without a child. For one reason or another. He could still feel the cold blood on his hands, His grip tightened around the reigns as he bolted off riding with purpose and intent towards the recommended location. Somewhere like that could possibly be the best place. It’s secluded and easily fortified. A perfect place fo r a kidnapper to go.

The steel which adorned him rattled and clanked snapping together with each connection of hoof to ground. The loud clattering of horseshoes against the occasional stone in the dirt track. Alex eyes narrowed as he drew up close to the location a singular hut out hidden within a small glade of trees. Alex slowed the horse to a moderate trot. His arm shaking lightly with the tension of his grip on the reigns. He wanted to make sure that this time this person would be fine. Slipping off the horse to one side he clattered against the ground as he landed the bristling arsenal of weaponry around him clattering as he marched towards the shack. A purpose to his steps a driven fury but one underlined with calmness.

[Dove Brown]

All Dove could do as the horse shot forward was duck her head down against the wind tearing at her and cling on, trying not to fall off. There was no room left for thinking or for noticing the feel of the horse galloping under her, or the leg commands that Alex was giving it. When it eventually slowed to a bone-jarring trot, and then a stop, Dove forced her grip to relax just in time to avoid being dragged off the horse by Alex's noisy, rapid, dismount. She slithered down herself in a barely controlled fall, and her protesting legs buckled under her as her feet hit the ground. She landed, half-sprawling, half-seated on the ground, but Alex was already clanking up to the door and she was not going to be shown up by an idiot.

She pushed herself up, told herself it was no worse than heading out to the field after one of Father's beatings, and drew out her sling. Her fingers cramped for a moment and she grimly shook them out and moved to circle the shelter and check for other exits and signs. There was a shuttered window at the back, and Dove moved cautiously towards it. She took the time to set her feet down quietly, and approached the window from the side, rather than walking straight up to it. There was the sound of swearing from inside, and Dove found a knot-hole to look through just in time to see a man with a club storm out of the door towards the clanking, rattling squire.

She rolled her eyes for a moment, but he was a petching squire, he didn't need a girl who was 'only a farmer' to rescue him - or shouldn't. Then she put an eye back to the hole to scan the inside of the shelter as much as she could. He was looking for a girl her age, he'd said, and that, obviously, was not the man who had stormed out. There were still sounds of movement from inside, but Dove's view was too restricted to get a look at who it was. She straightened and tested the shutter cautiously, but it was barred, like the ones she had dealt with when the cottages collapsed last winter. She knew how to open then from outside, but it was risky without knowing if it was safe to do so. As she paused to consider, a hoarse whisper from inside demanded, "Who's there?"

[Alexander Faircroft]

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

The reaction wasn’t unexpected. Alex knew that whoever was there would begin stumbling out of the shack to stifle his efforts. Alex continued his march, the hardened pounding of his footfalls against the dirt. The club wielding man strode towards him a similar height but much thicker, stouter broader. Alex’s fingers clenched tighter beneath the steel plating. He didn’t need weapons for this instance he was fuelled by, anger and failure. The square off between them was brief, to say the least. The moment Alex entered the brutes range he swung his club towards Alex.

Shorter range than a sword, heavier and slower too. Alex took a half step backwards and in that instant the club sailed past in front of him and with a swift sharp striking motion Alex returned the onslaught of pain. Left hand took the point of the shield strapped to it straight to the club arm’s elbow. A sickening crack from the force followed by a cry of pain. Swiftly silenced by a hard rage fuelled right hook straight to the temple, and with that he was out like a light. Alex simply then stepped over his now unconscious form continuing his march to the shack. A sharp whistling sound than caught his attentions. A swift spin and a raise of his left shielded arm met with a loud ring of steel against steel.

An Arrow now lay on the hard ground before him Cracked along the centre of the shaft from the force of the impact and his shield now dented lightly at the point of impact. Alex spun around drawing his bow in the process, pulling an arrow to knock in the process. Not drawing just surveying the area. Looking for a slight glint a rustle in the tree line a movement. Crouching down he gave his opponent less of a target and a much harder point of contact. Coated in steel unless this opponent had a long bow like Alex did he wasn’t going to be getting through with ease.

Knowing that Dove had snuck off on her own wanting to help he simply sighed before refocusing on the problem in front of him.

[Dove Brown]

"A kid," Dove whispered back automatically. That had always been the code word for someone safe when she was here for her brother, and she heard the quick intake of breath on the other side of the shutters that suggested it still was. Then the arrow hissed past the shelter and hit Alex's shield.

Dove remembered the sound of arrows whizzing past her all too well from the time she'd helped scoutthe woods for a new settlement site. She dropped instinctively to the ground, her brown clothes blending with the dirt, and her mouth curled in a silent snarl. Another arrow skimmed off the shelter wall and she caught the direction. Somewhere off to the side, where the archer could cover the door easily. The shelter's bulk shielded her somewhat, and Alex had his armour, but she'd be better inside.

She hissed, "Stand back from the shutters," waited for the acknowledgement, then gathered her courage, drew her knife, and climbed back to her feet. She slid the knife into a crack between the shutters, under the latch, and then lifted. The latch came free with a clunk that sounded far too loud for safety. She pulled open one shutter, the one most likely to block her from the archer's view, then dug a toe into the log wall and hauled her small body through the open window as fast as possible.

She landed hands first, badly jarring her shoulder and grazing her palms on the rough floor. Above her, an arrow punctured the open shutter, and she scrambled up again, ignoring the pain, to pull it closed once more. Only then did she look round, and her gaze came to rest on the other girl, bound hand and foot in the corner.

[Alexander Faircroft]

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

Seeing dove fall to her stomach in the distance was something else which gave Alex a piece of information regarding the archer he was against. Well two pieces. He didn’t care about collateral damage and there was more than one. Alex stood stock still letting his armour provide a point of protection and a glaring target. A short bow wasn’t going to get through but each repeated ding against the steel was telling him where the shots came from.

One ahead of me, and one staked out behind the shack. His eyes traced the treeline and then he caught it. Snapping his head to the side the arrow glanced off the edge of his helmet as he loosed his own arrow. Where he heard nothing but thunks and cracks for their arrows against his armor in this case he heard a loud scream. One down one to go. As he went to turn an arrow Stuck itself in the between the blades of his armour the broad head of it catching against the chainmail beneath, Luckily saving him for any major injury.

Now all that mattered was taking a moment to discern the location of the next one. With the arrows which had been stabbing into the shack Alex shifted around out of partial cover from it. Unlike his friend who had been hiding deeper in the treeline, this one just took shelter behind a singular tree. Drawing another arrow Alex nocked and drew, waiting for the moment he snapped out of his cover to take a shot at him. The exchange between them was short and sharp.

As the archer rolled out from behind the tree Alex already had an arrow trained on him. Both loosed at the same time and Alex’s arrow took the archer in the shoulder disabling him quite thoroughly the archers own arrow glanced off of Alex’s chest plate. Not before denting it quite nastily. Grunting from the force of the impact Alex scrabbled back to his feet. Slipping the bow back over his shoulder and now marching albeit much slower than before, towards the shack. Perhaps Dove had gotten in there and calmed things down beforehand.

[Dove Brown]

There were more sounds of arrows hitting the shelter, along with grunts from Alex and a scream that made Dove flinch with memories of being hit by her father. She took a long breath, gritted her teeth, and moved cautiously towards the other girl. There were footsteps behind her, and the girl looked past Dove's shoulder and flinched back, pressing her shoulders into the corner as her bound hands came up to shield her head.

Dove spun on one knee, her sling loaded, bound, and ready for hand to hand action. It whipped up towards the man approaching, and her mouth tightened as her strained and jarred shoulder protested the movement. Once she saw it was Alex, she tried to pull the blow before it hammered into his leg. His armoured leg. Her shoulder spasmed and she lost control of the whipping slungshot for a moment. She grimaced, rolled her shoulder and said flatly, over it. "He's a squire." To Alex, she added, "She's here, and you're scaring her." The words "like you scared and hurt and attacked me, you idiot" hovered on the tip of her tongue, but she bit them back. They wouldn't help anything here. Instead, she told him, "Back up a bit, or get down to her level. You loom and it doesn't help."

She eased sideways, turned back to the girl, and asked her, her voice light, almost gentle, "Stupid question, I know, but are you ok, or are you hurt? Other than the obvious bindings, can you move ok?"

The girl started to nod, then broke off with a whimper. "Head. Head hurts. Dizzy..." Her hands came down tentatively, as if she still wasn't sure of them and she didn't seem to be looking straight at either of them.

Dove nodded in her turn. Her knowledge of wounds and medicine was sketchy, enough to clean and bind them, but not much more. "I know a little about medicine..." She glanced at Alex to see if he knew any more than she did. "I can look if you want me to..?"