[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/q020OKO.png[/img] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/691807950511145020/1033096540274839562/Screen_Shot_2022-10-21_at_2.11.56_PM.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/9SpAqdN.png[/img] [b][h3]M E L D H E I M C A T A C O M B C H A S E[/h3][/b] [/center] [hr] [b][h3]A S I E R[/h3][/b] Ási continued to make his rounds around the palace on the first day of the job. Everyone tended to keep to themselves, simply giving each other knowing glances and exchanges. There was a clear hierarchy as certain areas were patrolled by the house guard, a station above his own, and these tended to patrol the most important regions of the throne. After going around once, he proceeded to start doing specific paths as he tried to find a suitable path toward the royal treasury. Through the different corners, he started to place small seashells as they formed a route, rather like bread crumbs. Piece by piece, he mapped out the most suitable route, then left a little pile of the shells opposite the door. The guards stationed outside peered at him piercingly, so he continued to pass them into the hall. The hall, on the other hand, was almost perpetually populated by one person or another, other than for a brief occasion during meal time and the changing of the guard. It is on this occasion he managed to enter the majestic place as he bore witness to the throne. It was difficult to understand where the throne ended, and the tree began. The tree was positioned perfectly as if sculpted to have a throne shape as opposed to one being cut within it. He had overheard the guards discuss that each fruit represented the prosperity of the Ekandr people, and the more it grew, the more prosperous they would be. Ási approached as he drew his axe to use the fine edge to slice the fruit and nuts from it, giving it a healthy trim. There was not much fruit to be had, but a bad omen might cause a few of their true believers to panic. He couldn’t resist the urge to find a suitable spot to leave a marking of his own upon its sacred bark, “Asier était ici”. As the signal arrived as intended, he made his way out of the hall, nodding towards the guards as they came onto shift, making his way over into the kitchens to complete the rest of the task ahead. [hr] [b][h3]O S A N N A[/h3][/b] When the signal came, Osanna was standing in the center of what she had come to think of as her classroom. Her palms were pressed flat to the smooth wood grain of the table, cool and impersonal against her skin. Her eyes were closed. Pain prickled behind them in little lighting flashes that echoed into the bones of her skull. She had found the hidden sea entrances to the catacombs and nearly gotten lost on the way back, but they were open and a single carefully half-shuttered lantern sat in each. She had let in her ally. She had prepared her plans for escape. Osanna had not slept more than an hour or two in four days. When she felt the tug on her ear, she was half-sure it was hallucination, but Osanna had never had delusions before. She was sane of mind and strong of body. She would not imagine a false signal. “Ositha?” Osanna straightened at once, taking in the sight of her two royal charges framed in a doorway surrounded on all sides by a fortune in paper and wood and leather and horse-hoof glue. She smiled. [color=black][b]“Today, we’re going to do something a little bit different.”[/b][/color] On the way down to the kitchens, Osanna began her prepared speech on the importance of the language they would use at state dinners with dignitaries from foreign nations. She explained how the wrong turn of phrase might give offense or destroy a previously hoped-for alliance and how their actions—good or bad— would reflect on their family. It filled up the whole walk—Osanna standing between the two to keep them from fighting when they got bored— and soon, they were standing in the warmth and bustle of the kitchen near the pantry that held her precious escape. She put them through their paces, asking for translations at a break-neck speed to keep them from getting off-topic, laughing when she stumbled over the words. Echeran keep her, the world was starting to blur on the edges, and her heart was beating a rapid, strangled tattoo in its anxiety. When would the news come? Were her comrades able to complete their part of this plan? Would they get away safe? It seemed to take hours, but the news finally did come. It arrived in the form of a breathless messenger, having run straight down after telling the nobles (nobility always did underestimate the knowledge of their help). Chaos had erupted in the city. Osanna looked at Snorri and Inga and let her fear show on her face. Where was Asier? She needed to get him out too.[color=black][b]“We need to get you to safety,”[/b][/color] she said. [color=black][b]“Have you heard of the Catacombs beneath the palace?”[/b][/color] “Those are just old stories!” declared Inga. “Every story comes from a truth,” retorted Snorri. “Magister Hostein used to say it.” “Not [i]every[/i] one,” Inga replied. “Even if they [i]were[/i] real,” she continued, perhaps a little bit intrigued now, “how would we find them?” [color=black][b]“What if I told you I knew how to get inside?”[/b][/color] Asier stepped into the kitchen, and Osanna immediately relaxed. He had made it. They were going to get out of here. [color=black][b]“Are you two up for an adventure?”[/b][/color] [hr] [b][h3]D I E T R I E C H[/h3][/b] Suspicion had been building in his brain ever since the last meeting with that teacher. He had thought of how he might act on it without jeopardizing his mission or endangering his station at the palace. It was one thing to know something, it was another to convince others of it, and he could not imagine the royal would take well to him arresting a member of her employee on a whim. Perhaps it was good fortune then that when he was at the apex of these thoughts, that there was chaos in the castle, and Meldheim was under attack. He wasted no time and rallied two of his most trusted men, seasoned Sturmknecht, and set out to save the children from the likely agent. First, Dietrich ran to the classrooms. Perhaps they were still there from the chaos. The children could be obstinate, but no. There was no trace. It was a given they wouldn’t be in the throne room, so he decided to search around other likely locations. That brought him upon the kitchen and from there into the pantry, where he heard stifled voices that sounded all too familiar. He burst in with his guard taking the lead. He feared the worst and gave a whispered order to the sturmknecht, who shouted at Osanna, “Stopp akkurat der kriminelt avskum!” Ositha paused at the top of the ladder, looking up towards Dietrich and his guards. The children must have been below. Her shoulders relaxed, and she let out a sigh, lips twitching upwards in a tremulous smile. She entirely ignored the accusation from his guards, as though she didn't understand it. [color=black][b]"Lord Dietrich! Something has gone horribly wrong in Meldheim and the children are going to hide in case of a breach. Will you help us protect them?"[/b][/color] Dietrich walked forward tentatively, his guard still posted in front, before looking down at 'Ositha'. He observed with every ounce of his being, his heart beating fast from the adrenaline of the situation, for were something to happen to those kids, there would be more trouble than a mere beast assaulting the capital. He sensed this agent was much more malicious, for she had far more intent and purpose behind her actions. He would act now, or perhaps two very valuable hostages would be seized by foreign raiders. A terrifying proposal. [color=gold]"You might have fooled the queen and the other members of this court, but not me. Be still, and I may stop the Eskandr from nailing you to the front of a longship."[/color] He spoke with authority in a language he detested, Parrench, as he pointed his scepter at the woman and switched to Drudgunzean.[color=gold]"Seize her. If she resists, slit her throat."[/color] Ositha dropped into the dark and disappeared, no trace of her face or hands, not a wisp of dark hair or swish of cloak. From that depth, darts came flying, striking the guards with portentous whomps. [color=black][b]“Run!!”[/b][/color] she yelled. [color=black][b]“We’ll get no help here!”[/b][/color] Dietrich was not as surprised as his soldiers at the sudden assault. A quick draw of the kinetic force of the darts heading his way caused them to drop to the floor, and he gazed into the darkness, frustrated at the circumstances. [color=gold]"Nach ihr!"[/color] he bellowed as he used his gift to attempt to sense the energies of Osanna and begin to draw. As quick as she might be, she was no noble, and he was betting that she did not have a strong enough gift to resist an offensive draw, moving closer to the darkness and awaiting his men to take the lead, not wanting to jump into the jaws of an assassin without backup. The guard, known as Ási, was rebuffed as the woman disappeared into the darkness. [color=0054a6]"Dritt!"[/color] he cursed under his breath as he tried to look around for her unsuccessfully. The children started to become confused and frightened. He approached them and looked over them protectively as he had his back towards them, preparing to place himself between them and the intruder. Dietrich, seeing that the draw was effective and that this infiltrator was on her last legs, descended, using a little kinetic energy to dampen any fall he might have taken. Nodding to the guard that was already there to handle the matter of the children, he redirected his gaze toward the false tutor. He still had plenty of juice from the draw and was ready to unleash it upon the would-be assassin, no mercy in his eyes as he spoke his spell into existence. [color=gold]"Iram patris!"[/color] before a stream of crackling lightning came from the ivory scepter, making its way toward Osanna. After this was dealt with, he would see to the children's safety. Only, he couldn’t quite see her. Where the woman had been leaning against the wall there was only shadow, and there came no scream of pain or thud of a body hitting the floor. The guards stumbled away from the latter, and suddenly there she was again, turning away from what ought to have been a killing blow by one of the guards. They exchanged a couple blows, but no party made headway. Ási heard the children as they panicked and cried, the fresh sounds of battle rung around them. He kneels down as he placates them with reassuring hushes. He used his skills as a parent as he brought them in close and gave them a light hug to settle them. After he took a hold of their hands, he started to gently back away slowly out of the combat area. Dietrich glanced in his direction, he gave him a knowing nod, those unspoken words of [color=0054a6][i]I’ll take care of them; you have got this[/i][/color]. He gestured towards the children [color=0054a6]“Gå, Gå".[/color] ​​Dietrich, surprised that the blow did not finish the assassin, was surprised at her ability to tangle with two fully armoured Sturmknecht after the fact. He felt no pity, but he did feel a manner of respect for her warrior spirit. Still, something made his brain tingle. Why was she content to stay and fight here instead of running? There must have been something else afoot. He had little time to waste on this affair if this were to be the case, so he would once again attempt to finish it. Drawing from the kinetic energy of the clashing of steel, and converting it to thunder, he prepared a lance of lightning to fire straight for the assassin's center of mass. Once again, she disappeared, but he could smell burning. She had not completely escaped him. The fighting continued, and the ferocity increased. The children appeared to be too scared to move or too enthralled with the display, irrespective of their safety. Ási acted stronger in his encouragement, shouting towards them, [color=0054a6]"Gå! Gå!"[/color]. He started to push the children deeper into the catacombs and further from the fighting, covering the retreat to prevent any bad from happening to either of them. The erupts continued around him, the ceiling starting to crumble as stone gave way; he couldn’t keep at this slow pace longer. He grabbed the children under his arms, carrying them down the corridor with great haste and hopefully out of the catacombs. He tried to recall Ositha’s directions in his mind, attempting to choose the right plans out of here. Inga protested immediately. "I'm not a lil' kid! I'm almost twelve! Put me down, and I'll just use magic, you big dumb ox!" Snorri was more circumspect in his approach, merely frowning and accepting his lot in life... for now. Ási dropped her down next to him, taking her hand as he tugged her along. [color=0054a6]”løpe”[/color]. As he tried to pull her along, Snorri started to whine, slowing them down, pulling on his leg to go back to help Ositha. “I can use the Gift too, and they’re going to kill each other! For Father’s sake!” [hr] [b][h3]O S A N N A[/h3][/b] Osanna felt herself relax, and the shadows melted her form into obscurity once more. She gave the guards a cursory blow that they defended well enough and sank into her easy darkness. This didn't matter. Not anymore. Asier was getting away. He would find the Parrench or his sea people, and she would have fulfilled her duty, done as her God and her church had instructed. All she had to do now was live long enough for this to work. She almost didn’t manage that. The damned lightning mage unleashed another burst of ferocious power, light searing her eyes and heat searing great swaths of her skin. Her cloak had all but burnt away. Her cheeks were rough with blisters, and her nose was full of the rancid smell of burning hair. She called the shadows again, an act that usually felt like slipping into cool water and now was more like trying to cover herself beneath tons of dirt. She hurt. Her breaths were coming too fast, too painful. In the aftermath of her second near-death of the night, Osanna used the cover of darkness to turn on the guards. The one nearest her was a brute of a man—a full head taller and dark-haired. He swung at the shadow of what might have been her or a dream or his own paranoid imaginings, and in that second of unbalance, she sliced open his throat and stole his sword. Echeran keep her, it felt amazing to have a sword in hand. It was too heavy and too short, but it was an actual blade! No more butcher’s weapons. She turned immediately to the second guard and thrust, but her magic had failed her again, and the blade hardly nicked him. Osanna had to dodge another funerary strike, and she growled, turning on Dietrich like a feral animal. She struck out with her new blade and tore into his arm, feeling the delicious resistance, the spill of hot blood on the floor. She couldn’t tell if he looked surprised or afraid. [color=gold]"Du wirst nicht alleine sterben, Freund,”[/color] Dietrich said. Osanna was shaking. Fever from the burns she had received raked her limbs. Adrenaline and exhaustion fought for prominence in her shredded mind. She hoped she'd done her duty. She hoped her people would survive this war. She was glad she’d served her God well. [color=black][b]“I am never alone,”[/b][/color] she said, and the next blast of lightning hit her and flung her back hard against the tunnel wall. For a time there was nothing. Pain. Light. The smell of flaming hair and skin and fabric like burning feathers and cooking meat and a wildfire all at once. There wasn’t enough air, or else her lungs couldn’t find it. A woman dying of dehydration steps from clean water. Osanna groaned. She hurt everywhere. Light danced in from the opening overhead, spilling dustmotes, spinning across her vision like the turning of stars multiplied by about a million. She couldn't hear anything at first, but the thrumming of the tunnel crystalized into boot falls on stone, and she rolled away just as a sword tip dropped down to skewer her. Osanna kicked at the knees of her attacker, and he fell onto her stolen blade with a wet sound like meat hitting a stone counter. She struggled to her feet. Osanna was done. There was nothing more she could do here, burned and broken and shaking. She asked shadows to cover her once more and limped into the darkness. [hr] [b][h3]A S I E R[/h3][/b] Asier had grown impatient with his charges. [color=0054a6]“Avancez”[/color], he cursed under his breath. This was the wrong remark, as this outed him as a Parrenchman and not one of the house guards. Inga broke away, kicking viciously at his shin and shouting as she ran down back to where the fighting was going on. [color=0054a6]“Non non…”[/color], he chased after the girl. That necessitated releasing the boy, and he broke away too. Voices echoed down the darkened corridor in languages that the plainsman didn’t understand, and he raced toward them, fearing that it was all undone, all for naught. He passed Snorri and tried to hold the child back. “She there,” the boy said in quiet broken Parrench, gesturing, and Asier didn’t have enough time to make sense of where his younger charge stood. There [i]was[/i] something subtle just ahead, though: a shadow that didn’t fall quite right in the near dark, but Inga had reached Dietrich now and her silhouette was frantically pulling on his sleeve, her words quick and animated, lost to the Tourrare. “Snorri!” She shouted urgently, “Skynde sig! Løb hen til mig!” Her head turned to Dietrich, but his eyes were fixed on the moving shadow. He had spotted Osanna, and Asier realised that by going back for her - not his original intent - he had just jeopardised the entire mission. The Drudgunzean stalked forward, and Asier ran that way, drawing whatever scant energies he could in this Oraphe-forsaken place and hoping to get there first. “Snorri,” Inga cried, “[i]kom. her.[/i]” “Jeg kan ikke!” the boy replied. “Undskyld.” Asier reached Osana just as her cloak of shadows evaporated, dissipating into the dim, musty air. He looked up, prepared to shield his ally behind his body and use the energy he’d gathered to fight if need be, but his would-be opponent seemed too slow, to draw up short. “Kujon!” Inga screamed, pounding ineffectually at Dietrich’s side. Asier could feel her drawing, and the girl was much stronger in the Gift than he’d imagined. Snorri hesitated and began walking towards her, arms spread. “Søster, gør det ikke!” The Tourrare made his move just as Dietrich seemed to have recovered his nerve. He threw everything into the ceiling of the tunnel between where they stood, rushing forward and grabbing Snorri by the only thing that he could get ahold of: the boy’s collar. Chunks fell, and the ceiling rippled back further than any had anticipated. Inga’s eyes widened in fear, and she turned to run, but she was too slow. Then, there was a small burst of magic as she glanced back over her shoulder, and the siblings locked eyes, but it was Snorri’s instead of hers, and it was not directed at Asier. Instead, Inga was shoved backward out of the way of the falling stones. Then, the tunnel collapsed, and dust billowed up in a massive wave. Asier coughed. There was no seeing through to the other side. Snorri stood there, shielding his small face with one arm. “Jeg er ked af det, Inga,” he said solemnly. “Pas godt på dig selv. Vær glad.” He glanced at Osanna, unconscious, and stepped over to place a pair of fingers upon her neck. “She okay,” he said in broken Parrench. He spared a long glance back at the collapse behind them and then looked up at Asier. “You hold she.” He gestured in Osana’s direction. “We need go.”