POOHEAD189

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

"I believe you," I found myself saying, and I knew it was the truth. Granted, I don't know that I would have stopped if I thought she was telling me what I wanted to hear. Men and women did that to one another more times than the number of stars. But in my heart I knew she meant it. Even all these years later, through the complications our relationship brought and the horror we faced, I don't regret a thing. To this day, she is my most treasured companion and confidant.

We danced like our minds were linked, feet flowing from one step to the other mere inches apart. It wasn't the festive and energetic dance of the night on the Caledonia, nor was it the practiced and methodical ballroom style of the banquet. It was something more slow and intimate. A dance for lovers and secrets and rendevzous' beneath the stars. In fact, somehow we managed to ascend the three steps from the lower den to the dining area. To this day I am surprised we did not stumble on each other, as I found her eyes quite enthralling and hardly glanced beneath her neckline.

"I'll do my best to protect you as well. Things will be as dangerous as tonight, I have no doubt of that. But we'll work together and watch each other's backs." I said. Granted, I would have done so anyway even without our bashful unspoken declaration of romance, but it sounded more solid now. I felt it more than a duty. "I just need to give you a warning. If we go down this path..." I paused for effect. "You'll occasionally have to deal with the presence of Lazarus."

She snorted, placing a hand to her nose in embarrassment. I couldn't see why, I found it endearing. I rested my forehead against hers, and she smiled that wicked smile.

"I can handle myself," she told me.

"I believe you," I said again breathlessly, half smiling, my lips all but brushing hers.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

My heart lifted, and I felt more alive at that moment than the entire evening, save perhaps the kiss. After you get through varying degrees of deadly experiences, you tend to see them as a part of the job, despite them never quite losing their luster of exhilaration entirely. I figured I knew what she was thinking, because I had similar thoughts. I was, as far as most in the Ordo could tell, a rising star and a promising adept of the Ordo Malleus. I had served over half my life at this point, and as a full Inquisitor the last five years, but compared to many I was as green as the forests of old terra. This could potentially be a stumbling block on my theoretical long and storied career. I don't know what Inquisitor Kronus would say, had he been here, but I knew many above me would scold me for such a lack of discipline.

I nearly pulled away and grew stone-faced again. I could feel myself closing up with a will and telling her it was unprofessional of us and we needn't speak of it again. It would be awkward and even hurt for awhile, but we would keep our integrity in the eyes of the community and there would be no hiccups. But at that moment I realized something I hadn't considered before. It was so simple but astonishing that I could tell she could see it on my face. She now seemed more confused than conflicted, if only but.

"What I care about is the mission," I said slowly, meeting her gaze. "And my own personal integrity. I will do nothing to hinder what I perceive to be my life's calling."

I admit, it did not sound promising to us, until I said: "And I don't see us as a threat to that. And to that effect..." He held a hand out for her to take, a smile that threatened to turn into a grin forming. "Care to dance? If you'd have an Inquisitor that is. I hear we're quite dangerous."

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

I looked at her, blinking. I was going to admit I had a good time as well, which if I had heard that out of any other Imperial citizen's mouth I would have deemed them unfit in the head. Perhaps Lazarus's neurological exam was not entirely unwarranted. And yet, I would mean it.

"No, I..." I started. There were no exits on the road I was going, so I needed to word it carefully. My intention was to have a professional meeting with my newest aide, but I found that was close to an impossibility without broaching the subject. The fact that there was something potentially romantic at the end had nothing to do with it, I am sure.

"Emmaline, that was why I apologized earlier. I..." I sighed, taking a deep breath and appearing as focused and clear as I could be. "I understand that you are my subordinate, you are new, and we were in a dangerous situation. I hold all the power between us in our current situation, and I kissed you without asking beforehand. If you would like to complain or cast doubt on my authority, you have free leave to do so. But..."

I felt like a young interogator again. For some reason my collar was a bit hot and my heart picked up speed. I thanked the Emperor Lazarus was not here to point it out. I usually had more control than this, I marveled. When I had met her I nearly killled her, it took me days to think of her as a person, and now I felt she could crush me more thoroughly than any khornate bloodcrusher.

"Emmaline, that wasn't a cover. When I kissed you, I wasn't Blasius Deckard. I was myself... Emmaline?"

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

It was a crustacean roll with bacon, served atop a soft house-made brioche bun. Along with the various sauces arrayed upon the plates, there was a bowl of fruits and some amasec along with glasses of water. My stomach threatened to growl, and I thanked the man after scrutinizing him and ascertaining there was no taint or ulterior motive. He did not get the chance to look around the room, as I greeted him at the door and rolled the car in myself.

"Do let us know if you require anything else, lord Deckard."

"I will, my good man," I said with my posh cadence and closed the door. Rolling the food in, I set it before Emmaline. "Dig in, I'll be right back."

Walking into my makeshift study, I changed clothes. Nothing fancy, and I was not so close to the debris as Emmaline, so once I stripped myself and donned a handsome pair of dark trousers and a white top that hugged my robust upper body, I washed my face in the sink of blood and what dirt there was, and fixed my hair, making it a bit more presentable with no hint of gravel or leaves in it. Satisfied, I stepped out of the restroom and into the living area where I found Emmaline in the midst of chewing a mouthful of the dish. When she looked at me, she placed a hand to her mouth and shifted in her seat in a strange way, only flitting her eyes at me twice as I walked over and sat beside her.

"A few hiccups aside, tonight went well," I deduced as she washed the food down with her drink. Idly, I popped a cheese roll in my mouth. It was very good and still quite warm. I swallowed as she placed the drink down. "Perhaps we went a bit overboard once or twice, but we have a trail and some workable theories on where this leads. We merely need to keep it up and improvise when we have to."

"There was the incident with the staff you handed me..." She said, wording it so I could view it as a shared blame. I smirked at her.

"The full fault is mine. Considering what could have happened, we got off easy. You did what you could." I admitted, and looked at her squarely. I made sure just to meet her eyes and not drink in the snug bodysuit. "In fact, I'm impressed. I've had a few aids make worse mistakes and even die on their first outing. I made damn certain that wouldn't happen here, but still. You went above and beyond, and your point of view was refreshing. I get too bogged down in my work. I also apologize for any discomfort I might have caused."

I took a drink of amasec myself at that, letting her think on it for a moment before placed my drink down. "Do you have any inquiries or things you would like to air out?"

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

"We need to go west," I informed her, turning to glance behind us. The odd lasbolt flew our way from the cars behind us, but they were around 20 meters to our back, attempting to blind us with their brights. I poked my upper torso out of the window once more, controlling my breathing much like I do when I use my psychic power. Extending my arm, I gently squeezed until I felt the 'lock sliding in place' as it were. I fired three shots into the leading car, and I swore I hit the driver. My suspicion was vindicated when the car swerved, threatening to hit the other vehicle but instead flying off into a corner store, crashing through a large window. The shattering glass audible even at this distance.

"I need something more specific than that," Emmaline said as I slipped back into my seat. The last vehicle in pursuit was playing it a bit more safely, for now. I glanced at her and gave a brief nod, though she wouldn't see it. I tried to review the direction we had taken from the Banquet Hall and picture the brief time I had looked at a map of the city when on the Caledonia. I was certain she was about to ask again when I spoke, the information dawning on me as if from a dream.

"We're heading north, so turn left."

She did so immediately. My head would have hit the window if it was rolled up, but instead my shoulder hit the door and my hair was pummeled by the wind. She made the first street left that she could see, which had been about five meters ahead of us. At least our pursuer's might be taken off guard, I thought fascetiously.

"Sorry!" Emmaline said guiltily, and I could tell she meant it.

"No harm done. I believe this street will end in a couple of miles. Once it does, don't stop." I informed her. A plan forming in my head. She raised an eyebrow and glanced at me. Lights flitted across the dash and illuminated our faces every moment as we barreled down the street. A few drunkards and a young couple languidly walking down the walkway were startled by the vehicle flying past them. I had been in worse situations, but every time one stepped into danger, it could be the last time. My mind worked double-time, fact checking what I had seen the previous hour. "Once we get back to the Hotel Imperial, we'll need to go over our cover-story and you can contact the Ignatius fellow you danced with."

The men had been after Blasius Deckard, but such backup warranted an attack on a competent Inquisitor and his retinue. Which meant whoever hired them knew of my true identity, but had not deigned to tell the assassins. He must have informed them to remain cautious and given someone high commission on the bounty. Well, at least if I reveal myself at anytime, they'll realize they were set up.

"Julius Mercutio Ignatius," She said, reciting the name from memory. "And I am a Magus of Xenoarchaeology."

"Did you tell him you are also a good kisser?" I asked. I certainly had brevity at times. The fires of youth and my own personal lack of discipline were difficult to dim. I could see my companion smile.

"It did not come up." She cooed, and we shared a look of significance that was hard to describe. If I had to put it succinctly, it was one part hesitation, one part excitement, and two parts yearning. Once again, the God Emperor saved us at that moment. Before the window, a light flashed. We both looked to see a lazy bronto vehicle pulling out from a side street. Emmaline squealed and I cursed, and she turned the steering wheel. Abruptly the vehicle tipped, I swear we nearly flipped, but instead of turning into a disaster, the groundcar swerved into an alley that Inquisitor Kronus would have called 'devilishly convenient.' Steel scraped on stone, and it was difficult to tell if we stampeded over a drunkard or not. Trash lay scattered and a few bits were tossed into the air as the car skidded to a halt.

We stayed there, still and quiet, and less than ten heartbeats passed before the vehicle tailing us sailed passed our position. It looked like I needn't go with my previous plan, after all. We waited five minutes in a silence I could only describe as loud, before we decided we could pull out and make it back to the hotel. A mile from the place, we ditched the car in a lot.

---

An hour later...

Lazarus had been busy while we were gone. He had moved the couch in the central quarters and made a place to install his cogitator, tapping into the public servers and records to be utilized at a moment's notice. With him was a man from Urien's crew, the Captain having already gone back up with the shuttle for now. Bolskad I remembered his name was. One of the younger members of the crew. He did what he was told and was slightly more savvy to normal Imperial ways than his more eccentric elders aboard the Caledonia. As we walked in, Lazarus was busy on the computer as Bolskad was moving a chair and hooking up various plugs with one another, color coded for his convenience. Had I been Blasius Deckard, I would have been appalled at the partial butchering of the expensive room.

The suite was suitable for five guests, with a luxury bathroom decked with various appliances and a vast tub to lounge in, connected between two rooms. The other two rooms had smaller, more personal bathrooms connected via their interior. I had taken up residence in the northeastern room, setting up a desk there and placing my personal effects and dossiers on its wooden top. The bed was kingsized, but I had not used it as of yet. I hardly slept when planet-side and on the job. The central chamber we found ourselves in had a step down den and a kitchen and dining area above, the chairs embroidered with a haute couture flair. On the walls were large air conditioning vents and local paintings that would likely fetch a pretty penny.

"Whoa, er... hchello sir," Bolskad began. I was not certain if he was admiring Emmaline or seeing the debris we had accumulated on ourselves. Granted, the wind from the car window helped.

"What happened?" The tech-priest inquired ponderously.

"Report," I ordered.

"All on your dataslate." Lazarus informed me. "We are connected to the Gralinmakke network and I am uploading the database to find central government access. Just in time, it seems."

"Don't get comfortable. I now own a moderately successful apartment building downtown." I informed them. Lazarus swiveled to look at me, his cold, penetrating eyes trying to see if I were joking or not. Bolskad just looked tired. My smile betrayed my half-lie. "I'm not lying, but I won't move you. If people are looking for me, they'll likely to search there. I won it in a public bet, after all."

"Unsurprising. Your blood pre-"

"I don't need a medical exam, Laz."

"You need a neurological exam."

I was a bit too flustered from the dancing and the fighting for our lives to humor him anymore. I turned my back on him and looked at Emmaline, my jacket flung across my shoulder. "Go wash up. I'll get us something to eat and we can talk about...everything." I told her.

Rise to The Top: Medieval Intrigue RP

Later that evening...

---

The feast had lasted a good few hours, the great fire that roared in the hearth in need of new kindling by the time the nobles had grown weary of their merrymaking. Galt had certainly engorged himself on food, still in stark disbelief that he needn't worry on food anymore, or money for that matter. He wasn't entirely certain why he had decided to offer to escort Silke home. Perhaps because she was the only one who was not the Duke and perhaps the King who enjoyed his presence without trying to gain anything from him. Galt also had to admit she caused almost as much of a stir at the dinner as he had, and it was not out of a lack of knowledge for her station. He found it confused and intrigued him all at once.

Still, carnally his desires were either a nap or a good woman, and he didn't foresee either from his volunteering. Not that Silke was not a good woman, even if he had only known her a short time. But he felt he respected her a bit too much to be that forward, and he doubted she was interested either. On second thought, the nap seemed the most likely, and increasingly the more attractive prospect. Galt's stomach had not been this full since he was a small lad.

Now, the two of them found themselves on two mares, cantering down the road on the misty evening. The heavy hooves clopped along the stone of the road, Silke slightly ahead of her 'escort' by virtue of the fact that Galt was not that good of a rider. True, it was how he had saved the Duke, but survival was a great motivator, he found. As it were, he was merely trying to keep his horse from bumping into Silke's steed. Galt cleared his throat to gather her attention.

"We had a conversation earlier that I believe we were going to speak about," Galt asked, glad to be out of earshot from anyone else. He hoped she did not wish to stand on ceremony, but he was tired of it and he didn't think she would care. "About my ambitio-" His horse whinnied and galloped forward a bit, and he realized he had yanked on the reigns a bit too hard. So much for being smooth. He cleared his throat and hid what embarrassment he felt, luckily now just beside the lady on the road.

"Er, my ambitions... But first I want to ask you what your interest in me is," He told her, eyeing her curiously. "If it was marriage, you'd bat your lashes and try any number of things. Not that I mind such things, but you wanted to speak to me of another matter. You can speak honestly. I might have been less than honest in my life, but I don't have a lot of friends in this life, and you're impressive in a few ways." Galt hoped he wasn't laying it on too thick. He had spent the afternoon regaling the Duke and King with stories, some lies, others not, and one was the story of the rescue. The King bought it well enough, Galt thought. The Duke did not care for the why or how, just that it had happened.

As a survivor himself, Galt could appreciate that.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

I should have known better, but it was a fortunate mistake.

What men were left that skulked through the brush had been dealt with except for the dumbfounded man, standing before Emmaline. The two brutes beside me were equally baffled, and it gave me some hope they had not expected to find a psyker, much less an Inquisitor. Perhaps this was some ill-fated attempt at trying to kill a Jovian-Clan representative. Then again, they were going to great lengths for such a simple matter. It didn't make sense. Due to my training, I compartmentalized that thought for later and moved before they had their wits about them.

I turned and used a diestro-style cut at the bigger man, the fellow only having enough time to flinch as my power sword cut him from collarbone to waist in an arc that stained the eye with its light. A horrific steam made by the blood in his body boiling from the high temperature blade wafted into the air, and he fell in a heap of two pieces. I strode forward in time to meet the second man's attack, his face congealed into a mask of rage. The stun baton and the power sword met in a clash of sparks, but the power sword was by far the better weapon. I needn't have riposted, the stun baton's power coupling shattered and its integrity broken, but with a flick of my wrist I amputated the weapon arm. He was too shocked to even cry out, and I kicked him in the chest. Swiftly, feet on the ground, I turned and smoothly unholstered my autogun. I fired two bullets at the confused man who had just about made up his mind to continue his assault on Emmaline, blood spouting from his neck in spurts.

Lazarus and I were of different minds on many things, but I had been told more than once that my dedication to my field gave me a mechanical ability to solve problems with little thought to anything else. I simply viewed it as pragmatic, but swift killing did have a certain coldness to it. On the ground, the one eyed and now one armed man grabbed at his stump of a shoulder and tried to catch his breath. Apparently his enhancements were truly just above the neck.

"Emmaline!" I called brusquely, time being of the essence. She hopped off the fountain ledge and approached. I held out my hand for the staff, and she gave it to me with a look that made me regret ordering her over so harshly. I'm not sure if she was felt guilty over some view of breaking my trust or complicating the mission. We would speak of it, later. With my staff in my left and my power sword in my right, I confronted the man on the ground. The blood was finally starting to seep out of his wound, if gingerly.

"Who sent you?" I asked him. At his spitting in my face, I used my will. "Who sent you?"

"Balal Ignatius!" He said without restraint, marveling at his own words.

"Who is Balal Ignatius?"

"Of the Ignatius Family."

"Who of the Ignatius family?"

"Of the Ignatius family!"

"What was your mission?"

"To kill a Jovian Elite and his Adeptus Bitch."

I took a full second to absorb the information and find a conclusion. It seemed we would have to take up Emmaline's offer to their estate, after all. With a look of contempt, I stabbed into the man's heart without a second thought. He bucked and attempted to breath, but was dead within seconds. The blood was purged from the blade as it thrummed with energy, the air steaming lightly around the sword. I deactivated it and sheathed the blade.

"Let's go," I told my companion. We made our way through the maze of shrubbery as calls and questions began flying up into the night air. It seems our mystique was growing, if nothing else. I would need to come up with an explanation on what happened to myself and my date by the morning, but as it were, I could not trust any pursuers to not be assassins themselves. Two minutes later, we made it to the street. Ground cars were parked along the road, likely owned by people spending the night at a local dive. I walked over to a compact but aesthetically pleasing one, likely an expensive model. Using the force staff to concentrate, the locking mechanism lifted and I opened the door, tossing in my weapons save my autogun. Kneeling down, I hotwired the vehicle, sparks flying from between my fingers.

"Where did you learn that?" Emmaline inquired with a catch to her voice. I could not tell if she was impressed or not.

"Can you drive?" I asked Emmaline, checking my gun's magazine.

"Now, if I said no..." She started. I looked at her and saw her smile. I looked away, hiding my own.

A Thousand Legends ~ Sundered Veil (At Capacity)

Interesting

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

I stopped and froze, something piquing my psy-empathy. I wasn't what one might call an 'Empath,' but you learn a technique or two under the tutelage of the Inquisition. Old Terrans would call it 'intuition' or something vague like a 'feeling,' but I knew what it was. Beyond that, I could see it with my eyes. There were many nobles glancing our way, but a few on the waiter's staff either looked at us directly or made certain not to look in a way that seemed too suspicious. It brought a chill down my spine.

"One more dance?" I asked Emmaline with liquid cadence to my voice, pulling her back out onto the balcony, gently.

"What?" She asked breathlessly, eyes widening. The sound of her voice made my heart tremble. Emperor but that was a good kiss. I could tell the prospect wasn't wholly unwanted in her eyes, but it warred with confusion on the sudden turn of events. I closed the door and pulled her close to it so we weren't as easily spied on.

"Something's wrong." I warned her. "Something..."

The night behind her was dimly lit, as it was opposite from the Banquet Hall's main drag. There were many buildings, yes. But beyond the large botanical garden were smaller streets and three to ten story buildings ubiquitously scattered along the landscape until they congregated with the larger structures of the main city. There were many lights, but not entirely bright. I saw another light turn on for the briefest of moments, and my mind yelled at my body as I realized it had not been a light, but a glint of something in the rays of the moon. I knew what it was in my body before I could conceptualize it in my head.

"Down!" I ordered, but Emmaline needn't have heard me as I took the liberty of pulling her below the vine-enshrouded balustrade. Just at that critical moment, a las-shot cauterized the stone where our heads had been. It was eerie, seeing it and not hearing a thing, or even being unable to see the source as it was fired. It was shot by a longlas, equipped with a suppressor that hid the location of its shooter by nullifying the flash and severely reducing the noise. Standard procedure for any sniper in the Astra Militarum was to find a new location after every shot, and most civilian assassins utilized kinetic sniper rifles. Still, we couldn't trust whoever attempted to kill us to go by the handbook.

Vaguely, I realized Emmaline was on top of me. Were it a different circumstance I would have liked the experience, but as it were we had a situation.

"Are you ok?" I asked her just the very moment she asked me, our voices mingling in the suspiciously quiet night air.

"I am," I said just as she gave a shaken 'Yes, I'm...'

"We need to go through the gardens." I told her, gently moving her to lay to the side, my back guarding her body from any shots, though I hoped we were still out of their visual. I took her hand in mine and gave her a nod. We had to move quickly. She returned the nod, resolve in her eyes. It made me smile. I had chosen my teammate well. "Hold on to me."

She did as she was bid, and with a quick movement, I hoisted her up and leaped off the balcony. We had two stories to drop, and I used my admittedly mediocre psychic powers to slow our descent on the second half of the drop. My feet hit the ground a bit harder than I would have liked, but nothing was broken and no further shots had been fired. She got to her feet and was about to make a quip, but the tall hedges began to shudder from some movement beyond what we could see.

"Six of them," She whispered, her eyes very far away.

"Together?" I asked, retrieving my pistol and pulling back the hammer. Damn, I did not want to lose my cover with gunshots ringing out.

"No, two man teams." She reported, and at my insistence we both backed up and fled into a different corridor of green, hurrying as quickly as we could manage in our current dress. Perhaps we made it twenty meters before the brush quaked and shook, and two men leaped out to bar our way. We pulled up short as the foes watched us in the gloom, ominously watching us as if trying to ascertain if we were the correct prey. One man had his left eye replaced by a set of bionics Lazarus could appreciate. The other looked like a short Ogryn, brutish and large, but undeniably a standard big man rather than an abhuman. Both wore carapace armor and stun batons, as if they had relieved a few adeptus arbites of their equipment. Briefly, I felt Emmaline's hand touching my own.

Are they after Hadrian Drakos or Blasius Deckard?

A prudent question. But one we did not have the luxury of finding out.

I'm not sure, but they have unfortunately found Inquisitor Drakos of the Ordo Malleus.

I put my gun back in its holster, and the two watched with a dark chuckle. They carried their stun batons as if they had used plenty of bludgeoning weapons before, moving with a confident swagger. I was not certain if Emmaline knew much of that particular armament, but a stun baton's name gives a misconception of its viciousness. They could certainly stun, but I had bore witness to an arbites use one at maximum power on rioter's arm. The limb was hopelessly damaged beyond repair. One hit in the head or anywhere vital and we could very well be dead.

"You giving up, eh? Smart." The balding man with the eye snickered. His thin nose and nibbling mouth made me think of a city rat.

I turned from them and handed Emmaline my force staff, who blinked when she caught the haft of the thing in her hands.

"Be extremely mindful with that," I informed her carefully. Her psychic powers far outstripped my own. "In my hands, it's a formidable weapon. In yours, well, there might be extensive collateral damage if you're not entirely in control."

Once I had hammered it home to her, I turn to the approaching thugs and, with a gesture of my shoulder to move my cloak aside, I reached for my sword. I could hear their chuckling as I retrieved my 'antique sword,' but as I pulled it out, their laughter died on their lips as they noticed the embossed skull on the hilt and the broad blade of what was undeniably a power sword in my strong hand. I activated the weapon, the blade bursting into life with a dim light, sparks racing across the length of it. My slug thrower might not be entirely effective against carapace armor, but my power sword, well...

It could cut into the armor plating of a Chimera.

Maverick Malediction

Iron was unlatched, and the gate creaked open loudly before the two tired, unscrupulous rogues. Calliope still clung to Neil, the thief hefted her up a bit so he could do one last walk before he could put her down. Damn, as tired as his arms were, she felt nice against him. Taking in a deep breath, he strode in. Had he been less hungry, thirsty, and exhausted, he would have taken more time to look around. Still, what he saw wasn't wholly uninteresting.

He had never been to Bania before, and he hadn't known what to expect. It was off-putting seeing the town so very much alike to the ones he was used to, and yet so alien at the same time. The houses and less elite building were made of pure wood. Neil did not have a background in buildings, but he had a keen eye and could tell the timber was axe-cut if he hazarded a guess. Three men with large mustaches, one sporting a wispy beard that pierced the air all smoked from strange pipes, watching Neil and Calliope and commenting to one another in their native tongue. A woman walked alone on the otherside of the road with a strange rod in her hand, carved in the likeness of a wiseman, hurrying to finish some unknown business. Children played with a dog under the copse of a roof, and men and women occasionally passed by, going about some tasks of their own.

He saw temples with elaborate rooftops and statues of either men or gods, Neil could not tell, framing the short and wide stairways to their doors. Along a spring to the north, past two other streets was a bathhouse, and a strangely shaped windmill spun in the distance. All of the buildings around ten feet apart, if not more. Particularly the storage sheds and other outbuildings, likely to prevent the spread of fire. Neil realized halfway through his observations that Calliope was whispering in his ear and explaining bits about the town. He felt certain she was trying to remind herself to keep up the act, but he appreciated being the guinea pig, all the same.

Once they made it down what Neil guessed was half a mile, there was a clearing in the town. Neil didn't believe it was the center of town, but it looked to be a hub. The structures were broken up from a street pattern to a circle, leading to six different short streets that would look like a star from a birds-eye view. In the center was a stone firepit, ablaze with a lively bonfire. A man with a long beard and clad in robes chanted a litany in a language Neil guessed was not Banian, at least not the modern dialect. Next to him was a totem of a three headed god, and at the entrance of every road were big men with bardiches, watching the townsfolk go about their business like hawks. They did not look to be the normal guard Neil had seen swaggering around, armed with sabers or shorter but broad-bladed axes.

It was inevitable one of them would spot the sly, roughed up aristocrat carrying a pretty, regal looking dark haired woman wrapped in cloth.

"What are these guys?" Neil asked Calliope quietly as one approached. He bore a long hat that draped right, looking almost crumpled to Neil, and a thick, long coat that covered what he imagined was padded and iron armor. He looked strong enough to wield his huge weapon, and even used it like a walking stick, one handed.

"Streltsy," Calliope said, and called to the man in Banian. Neil heard the words Yiga and Gregor, but couldn't catch anything else as the sorceress spoke to the tall brute who eyed them. Neil had to admit to himself, Calliope speaking a foreign language by his ear did something strange to him, but he tried to push that away for now and think on the problem at hand. If there even was one.

The Streltsy barked something, and then motioned for them to follow. He looked like his face was set in a perpetual glare, but evidently was convinced to help by the dark assassin's speech. Calliope smacked Neil like a horse on his behind and Neil's legs started moving before he even realized, the two being lead to an aesthetically pleasing and homey building with a porch and a large sign above it in Banian text and the symbol of a golden bear's paw. Surprisingly, the Streltsy did not stop there, but stepped onto the porch and walked in. Neil followed in his wake, raising an eyebrow as he stepped into the blessedly warmer room.

All eyes turned to regard he and Calliope, who merely clung to Neil and met every gaze in hers. Neil didn't know what was happening, but everyone who looked at her turned away when she regarded them, shaken from some experience they saw in her dark orbs. Neil loved Calliope's mystique and she had his attention in more ways than one, but his arms were about to get pulled out of their sockets.

"Can we get a room and some clothes please?" Neil asked desperately, interrupting the Streltsy who spoke to a woman he guessed was Yiga. They both turned with unreadable expression, and with a small request from the woman, Calliope tossed her a small pouch of coins. Yiga mentioned one more thing to the Streltsy, who excused himself as the matronly woman led them up the stairs, and Neil felt relief.