"Sir, madam, the party is being held in the governor's mansion down Aubrey Road. I could have one of my men escort you if you so wish." 

A bright line of red spread across the provincial militia's neck. His backsword cleaned and back in his scabbard before the militia knew he was dead, Markus walked past him as Calliope coagulated the blood and kept it from soiling the man's burgundy uniform, buffed over a sturdy gambeson. Unlike the professional soldiers, who wore breast and back-plates and morion helms along with their arqeubus and sideswords, the militia did not wear any iron or steel save for the helmet. He suffocated to death on the floor, and the last thing he ever saw was the darkly enchanting Calliope looking past him with a raised brow, her fingers curling as his blood seeped into the air, collecting into an undulating ball of crimson. 

"I was going to have him take us past the next sentries," Calliope said, bemused. 

"We need three uniforms. If this town is like any of the others I've been in, there should only be another two or three men between us and the cells." Markus explained. 

"Yes Captain," She sighed, standing up. The ebon haired woman stepped past the corpse but pointed behind her with her thumb. "But you're carrying him." 
 
[i]5 minutes later...[/i] 

Markus had been correct, both here and onboard the [i]Weather Witch[/i]. There really wasn't much in the way of guards at the jail. The two patrols they killed with little effort, and the gaoler himself was put to sleep with a simple spell by Calliope. Not out of any pity for his life, but she wished to cause chaos. Falling asleep on the job when it cost the lives of your fellows was a capital offense, after all. Markus let her have her fun, taking the keys from the snoring local and stepping past the desk laden with half-eaten cheese and walked into the walkway between the cells. Dirtied men roused and grabbed the cell bars or banged the heels of their hands against the iron, hooting and calling to be let out. Markus ignored all of them, though he cut the hand off an overzealous thug who reached out and tried to grab his carefully smoothed, dark coat. Blood spurted, but neither the blood or the grimy hand fell on the swordmage. He still needed to be presentable to the dinner, after all. 

Sketti made his debut by banging his bronze stump of an arm against the iron bars of his cell as he roared. "Quiet ye louts, or I'll kill every last one o' ye!" 

His voice was unmistakable, and if Markus had been unsure before, he knew just where his crew was now. The dark man approached, holding aloft a lantern that squeaked as it gingerly swung back and forth from the motion of the captain's stride, its hinges having gone un-oiled for many weeks. Sketti didn't need the light, as Dwarves were easily able to see in the dark. But the brightness of the light itself kept Markus' face hidden from him until he stood before the cell. 

"Captain!" Sketti exclaimed, hopping up and giving a laugh. The big man Halvar looked up from his stupor, and when he recognized Markus, he grinned and shook Jim awake. Jax, as ever, was perched high up. They had been lucky enough to get a small window in their cell, Jax perched seven feet up like a bird. The half-elf gave a big smile when he saw the swordmage, hopping down into the stones with the rest of them. He spoke in his signature accent, quick and whimsical.

"I knew you'd come back, Cap'n! Sketti said it was a load of blarney, he says. Not so, says I. Stall the ball, I says." Jax said impishly as he hopped, his hair blazingly red even in the gloom. The crew mostly saw him at the morning and evening and in the mess hall, spending most of his duty swinging on the ropes or perched in the crows nest. One almost forgot how he liked to talk so much. "We goin' back to the ship or are we acting the maggot?" 

"The latter," Markus explained as Calliope materialized behind him from the darkness of the corridor. The captain searched for the right key as they gave the first mate their greetings, and when the door was opened, Markus explained to them the plan... 

[hr] 
It had been years, but he was finally in the midst of nobility again. His father had never liked bringing him around his friends in the gentry, but as a bastard-but-home-raised son he had been duty bound to go to such events as he matured. The food was nice, the men were often boring, and the women he could never tell. Some were bored and wanted to knock boots, as he was a rakishly handsome man with at least half of his foot in the aristocracy, but none of them ever wished to take it further than that. He was always embarrassed to try, anyway. He didn't even live in his father's estate once he reached puberty, but lived in a glorified guest house and kept the stables in check when he wasn't pursuing his own interests and attending to his duties as a member of the family. 

"I believe this is Andalgo Vivaldi Concerto," Markus said as he stepped into the foyer with Calliope, looking particularly thoughtful. The music danced off the walls and oil paintings with a pleasant rhythm. He seemed both lost in his mind and yet very aware of everything going around them all at once. The orchestra brought back many memories. 

Calliope looked at him with a raised brow. "That's correct, how did you know that?" She asked, and he could not tell if she was impressed or merely curious. He realized he had spoken very little of his past to her over the months and months of travel and the hair-raising dangers. She had been a very public, if regional, figure. He had certainly known her when she had first introduced herself in that dark alley of Calaverde over half a year ago. He must seem shrouded in mystery, not only to her but the crew. Perhaps that worked to his advantage.   

"I'm a complicated man," He told her, his voice sly though his face was stoic as the chamberlain opened the door for them, letting them view into the large banquet hall where at least seventy men and women of means prattled on and drank their fill of wine. Three chandeliers hung above them, glimmering in the various lights as an orchestra played at the corner of the far end of the room. Every door had trained a soldier, as did every wall. 

"The Lord Markus and Lady Calypsa Haukenbrook." He announced to the assembled party. Calliope's name probably did not reach so far, but it did well to be careful, regardless. They did not want to raise any eyebrows until it was time.