The bulk of the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, and what was left was blocked by the towering palace and the myriad of clay buildings beneath which gave the streets a shadowed and ill look. It was the perfect time for a raid. In their black hearts, even the pirates weren't for raping and murdering civilians, but the chaos of scared citizens did help keep the sultan's guard off them in an organized fashion. 

Markus and Calliope had gone south with a few of their crew, while the rest had traveled west to distract the majority of the Sultan's forces. What remained of the BloodAxes that landed on the shore had run screaming into the city, cavorting and killing without care or conscience. No doubt when all was said and done, if any of the royal family was still alive at the end of the night, they would no doubt blame the Weather Witches crew for any atrocities against the unarmed populace.  

The scene transitioned onto the ground in a lesser known street beside the bazaar as Mumlaks and lesser guardsmen ran in, in a staggered, disorganized fashion. Had they come in all at once, even Markus and Calliope would have a difficult time surviving. Now they crossed swords with the soldiers of the Sultan, having been cut off from the others in the chaos of the urban fighting. 

Markus' blade crackled with lightning, lopping the head off of an unfortunate guard with baleful ease. He moved like a hunting cat, fluid but brutally, spinning to meet the next scimitar aimed at his back. His blade hadn't stopped moving, knocking the sword aside with a loud 'clang'. The soldier backpedaled and survived Markus's counter thrust only to attempt a strike at the Captain's head. Meanwhile, a flash of eldritch energy erupted a dozen paces away as four men were immolated by a spell from Calliope. 

As he'd learned in training, he let the opponent's blade get in close so the enemy couldn't feint, subtly parrying the blow before shoving his point into the fool's neck, blood gushing forth into the sand. Suddenly Markus vanished, blinking across the street to cut down another Mamluk, arriving beside Calliope who slid her rapier out of another assailant. While she wasn't perhaps on Markus' league in terms of swordplay, she was practiced and deadly and more than made up for it with her spellcraft. 

"You would have made a decent warmage," Markus said, his back to hers. They both dispatched a guard, Calliope with her rapier and Markus with a strange spell that shined white in a black flash, utterly disintegrating a Mamluk before he could scream in terror. Now wasn't the time to ask about the spell, and it wasn't nearly as devastating as Calliope's incantations. Instead she laughed, freezing the blood of anyone who heard it. 

"And work under the rule of some king? I fight for no one but myself." She declared, dueling with mustachioed guard wielding a spear. Markus and her both spun, changing opponents mid fight. Markus' magical blade cut through the spear's haft as Calliope transformed the two soldiers he fought into asps who slithered away in anxious fear. 

"You fight for me, don't you?" He asked. 

"That's different." She chuckled, and he wasn't certain on what she meant. All the same to him, he realized. When he looked about, he saw the Sultan's forces had halted and organized, now streaming in from all sides like a wave of myth. Calliope began to chant, but Markus had different plans. He slid his arm around her waist and incanted quickly, both of them disappearing to the normal eye. 

"Find them!" 

"Curse you for fools, go after them!" They called below as the Captain and the Sorceress watch from the roof above, hidden within an alcove of torn fabric that waved lazily in the last breeze of the waning day. 
[@Penny]