Siege on the City of Heroes - North, Part 1(EVENT)

[Rogus]

Well... This wasn't how i thought I'd see you again, Oleg. Rogus grimaced at the sight of the old merc's severed head. Rogus waited for Georg outside of the tent, he served that man after all, and Georg served the faceless man. Rogus kicked the dirt looking down with a confused gaze, and turned up to look back into the hollow eyes of Oleg. Hollow eyes... He heard someone say he had hollow eyes once, was this really how his eyes were seen? Cold, dead, unfeeling? Rogus shuttered, what kind of madness was this? He'd never seen Georg's master before, and given the nature of the profession he he hadn't held very high expectations. But this... This was too gruesome for Rogus's blood.

I made you a promise Oleg. Oichi will be taken good care of, ya' have my word for what its worth... Rogus muttered, the conversation between the living man and the dead one was barely loud enough for the thief himself to hear. He turned his back toward the man's gruesome remains and awaited Georg's return and his specific orders for Rogus to carry out. Hopefully the masked man the armored men called The Lord Reaper wouldn't need the sservices of a thief and he could go on his merry way, away from all this carnage and destruction. He watched some men get mowed down by arrows, while the few survivors reached the wall surrounding the Sacaen city.

Damn my luck, at least they aren't throwing me at any walls... yet.

[Orcleous]

Before Orcleous could get his answer he heard a sound from the wall. "The bandits are on the move", hearing those words orcleous had to move. He wanted to be in the thick of the fighting, though he doubted that they were over the wall. "Sorry sorry", spoke Orcleous as he rubbed the back of his head. "I have to go", spoke the lad as he rushed off. Quickly he ascended back up one of the houses to get a look at what was going on. A few of the bandits were making their way toward the wall, some of them were destroyed by pit traps and other were rained to death by arrows, but a few of them managed to get to the actual wall.

"Crap they are at the wall", spoke Orcleous as he drew his silver sword. "To arms, we need to purge them from the wall", shouted the mercenary.

"Wait you mean to go down there", spoke another soldier. It seemed the idea of going outside the safety of the walls dampened his spirit.

"We can't sit behind the wall forever", spoke Orcleous. "Everybody who a real warrior draw your weapons and head to the wall", shouted Orcleous.

The gates open and twenty good men began to march out of it. Orcleous lead the way with a group of soldiers. The mercenary was keen to make a name for himself in this war and he was not going to do it from atop a wall looking down. As Orcleous approached the remaining bandits he and the other warriors let out a battle cry. The mercenary charged forward with his silver sword ready and engaged the bandits with his full strength.

[Zerachiel]

"A terrible misfortune has befallen you, has it not? Oh Wolfgang, a man I once knew. How these halls miss the sound of your music..." Zerachiel stared up at the head mounted upon a pike, his face skewed in a sort of half smirk that never seemed out of place. "How these nights seem empty without the magic of your words. A bard some may say, passing by an empty tomb unmarked and condemned never to know. To many you will simply be another fool of a bloody king, but to me you shall always be a friend." He turned his head over to the man next to him, as if he was expecting some sort of reaction. Obviously it simply was not meant to be, no one here probably could even begin to understand what he spoke of. A rather popular scene from a rather popular play in Etruria, but these were vagabonds and highwayman. If there ever was a group of men to be uncultured swine, he would find no finer a slaughterhouse. He wasn't sure what prompted him to think anything different about this thief, then again to many he was simply a thief as well.

Zera was here on... business, let it be said. He worked not for Augustus Nacht, or whatever he may be planning. The man wore a mask and attempted to conceal his identity, but he didn't exactly do a good job at it. Still his aims coincided with Zerachiel's, which is why he even bothered to offer his assistance. Of course what could he do alone? If he had both his arms, perhaps, but now he wasn't able to add much to something already so much in motion. He wasn't a fighter. Well that was a lie, a more accurate statement would be he didn't enjoy being a fighter. He had many talents, open field warfare was not one that he considered to be one of them. Not even in the top ten to be honest. He had tried to assist the bandits before, but they went and drew far too much attention to themselves. Sacking villages wherever they went, nothing more than common crooks. It wasn't his fault that every illian commander and his little wyvern rider too showed up. It was a real shame as well, killing Hektor would have been the perfect feather in his cap. Zera didn't live as long as he did doing what he did by being a fool however. Either that or he's just been getting lucky all these years. Both seemed equally likely by this point, and maybe his luck was just starting to run out.

The end result was the same however, Hargus had returned. A villain so vile, so base, so... memorable and painful for Bern's history... Well it made the perfect boogeyman. In the end this battle didn't matter, the City of Heroes standing or falling. Of course it was best if it fell, but that wasn't what was really important. The fact it happened, that's what's important. The fact that Hargus was back, and that he's pissed. If this town burned to the ground it would be grand, put Kenshin's head on a pike and wave it around. Still it was also a case of not wanting them to get too strong. There was a certain logic in their loss, they needed to scare but they couldn't be unstoppable. After all, if the Rebellion was to put them down... they couldn't very well be invincible correct?

In the end there were a lot of variables, and Zera was doing his best to make it so no matter how it ended he came up on top. Zera had many talent after all, and as he said, open warfare was not one of them. "You're Rogus, correct?" He looked at the thief, a young man. Attractive, but then again that wasn't always a good thing. It made people stand out more readily, still when it felt like everyone important was good looking in some way, it didn't matter much. "Don't you find standing on the field of battle a terrible waste of your talents?" He cocked his head slightly as he posed the question. It was possible Rogus would recognize his voice from before in the town, but whether or not he did was irrelevant. "You could do much more than to be thrown at some wall with the rest of these bandits."

[Rogus]

What's an Etrurian doing here? Rogus had heard the line before, in a Lycian rendition of some Etrurian play while he was still accepted as his faather's heir. The Lycian League liked to fancy themselves like the etrurian nobility did, and thus liked everything they liked; including plays. After a trip to etruria his father had demanded it to be preformed in the castle. He remembered it well as it was a welcome break from his duties as heir, and though the actors looked like costumed fools, he had actually enjoyed the escape from reality for a while. It was only a guess, but he doubted it was popular amongst common bandits.

The man was dressed in black, like some of the other men in the camp going with Nacht's whole "spooky" style. Most were either important enough to be forced into wearing the garb, and some were just trying to impress the masked man. In any case Rogus hadn't even heard the man approach, nor noticed him before he spoke. No oafish lout like the bandits he'd met could have done that, this new fellow must be something different. His voice seemed familiar too, but he couldn't place it, though, he was sure that in whatever job this guy held it paid to seem familiar to everyone; People are more likely to trust you if they think they know you. The guy oozed spy, especially since he already knew the thief's full name. A piece of information he'd only given to Georg and that mage woman.

Don't take this the wrong way friend, but why do you care? I thought the men here weren't too keen on thinking independently, let alone giving a damn about others. He still hadn't kicked the small habits he'd learned as a noble, the way he explained his questions to misdirect misunderstanding, and how he pursed his mouth and lowered his brow when he heard something he didn't like, such as the man using his full name. He also spoke fairly quickly and assertively, unlike most of the other rabble who had to think a few seconds before finishing the second half of his sentence. He definitely stood out from the nameless ruffians, but he didn't think he'd attract the attention of men like the one next to him. Spies, assassins, "Thieves of Information" as Rogus liked to fashion them. It was obvious the man wasn't a thief, he was too careful and far too subtle to be a simple cut-purse thus he figured he had to be the alternative.

More importantly, how do you know me by name, yet i've never met you? You aren't one of Georg's men, nor any of the other captains'.

[Orcleous]

"For the City of Heroes", the defenders roared as they clashed with the bandits! Chaos came to this small patch of earth as blades clashed with blades, axes to axes, and spears to spears. In the mist of this rumble was young Orcleous, a boy barely of fighting age. He had come a long way from the days he was just simply swinging a sword. He fought bravely in the heroes lines as they assaulted the bandits.

"Your head is mine brat", shouted a bandit as he took a swing at the young swordsmen with his axe. The axe head cut through the air as it sailed toward Orcleous head. The mercenary ducked dodging the attack from the axe. This was his moment. Orcleous charged in to take the kill, but he was soon thrown aside by another brigand from his left. Orcleous body hit the ground and a axe soon followed. With a quick role he was able to avoid the lethal blow, but a kick to the jaw sent him into a groggy state. the bandit was about to make his move and finish the boy when he soon found a spear in his chest. The other defenders had steeped up to give the lad some aid. Quickly Orcleous got back to his feet and prepared himself for another round.

It was in this moment that it dawned on the young swordsman. This was not like the battles he had fought before. This was not like the nice gentleman duels he had or the few scuffles between four on four combat. This was War, and death was all around you. You focus too hard on one direction your were going to get killed from the other. Only strong allies and tight formations could aid you. Seeing the truth of the matter Orcleous joined up with a few other defenders and began to assault the bandits. They moved as one rather than a group of lone warriors each one guarding the side of the other.

[Zerachiel]

"Ah... I had a feeling about you." He smirked as the man managed to pinpoint that he was Etrurian from such a simple little monologue. It was a play called "A Feast for Fools", though it hasn't been much popular since Kraft came into power. It wasn't outright banned but it was... discouraged. Heavily censored too, you couldn't catch a show in Etruria without them slipping 'Hail Kraft' into every other line. Their 'lord and saviour' was paranoid but then again, knowing what Zera knows, he had good reason to be.

"Ooh, testy." The thief snapped at him, seeming a bit upset. Probably at the fact that Zera seemingly already knew him, well he actually didn't. The name? Yeah sure, that wasn't hard to sniff out. Everything else though, that was a mystery. Call Zera a child if you will, but he liked mysteries. You see, he dug up information on most any body he meets, it's saved his life on more than one occasion. Still it took all the mystery out of things, the price for not having a dagger stuck into your back it seems. This man however, we was of no consequence. He wasn't an important part of this machine, he wasn't a man worth familiarizing himself with before hand, in fact if he hadn't encountered him in the town Zera doubted he'd even know of the man's existence. For all he knew, this was just some common cut-purse that bumbled his way into this. "You're not wrong though. A shepherd herds sheep, and sheep scarcely think for themselves." He referred to that silly title that Nacht had given himself, but at the time it proved a fitting analogy. "Still, don't get me wrong, I don't much care what happens to the others. Brigands and bandits who chose this path, there's no point in mourning those that chose to die." He looked over at a group of said sheep, rushing forward with axes and weapons in tow.


"As for how I know your name? Well... Let's just say I'm very resourceful." He smiled, he didn't move his hands or arms in the slightest, remaining deathly still at his sides at all times. His body mostly obscured by a long black cloak, leaving little but his face to be seen. He moved quietly, and few were aware of his presence unless he wished them to be. "Keep your ear to the ground, you hear many amazing things."

"Still it is only fair if you know my name as I know yours. I am Roland Hawkthorne." He lied, though not all together skillfully. Roland was a pseudonym he's used before, meaning it was likely compromised to anyone who cared about such things. He was of great doubt that Rogus did however. Still the fact he gave it out so freely and with no hesitation, he might suspect rightfully it was a fake. If Rogus did, then great for him. If he didn't then nothing changed, names were meaningless, it's the ones who bore them that mattered. "And if you haven't seen me before... well I suppose I'm doing my job aren't I?" He didn't work for these bandits, they were of little importance to him. Still his job was to... assist them. In his own special way of course, but he didn't see much that he needed to have done. He helped spread the rumor of Hargus' revival, one that nearly plagued the land, and honestly that's all he needed to do. Win or lose, things were going in his favor.

[Orcleous]

Orcleous clashed with a bandit as he fought in the lines. As they clashed Orcleous crouched to improve his balance. The bandit pressed forward with his axe trying to overpower the young lad. As they both struggled for dominance Orcleous slid the axe head down toward the hilt of his blade. The moment the axe head hit the guard Orcleous took a step back with his right leg and deflected the axe toward the right side of his body. The bandit was caught off guard and his own weight drove him into the dirt. Taking the opportunity Orcleous slashed open the bandit's side with his silver sword allowing the man to bleed out.

"One down", spoke Orcleous as a arrows slammed into his chest. The armor protected him from being impaled by the projectile, but the blunt force alone knocked him off his feet. Gasping for air Orcleous looked up to see a brigand archer about thirty yards away from him. His vision was soon blocked by the massive bodies of two bandits hopping through the air ready to bring down their axes upon the mercenary.

"Crap", spoke Orcleous as he though his life was going to end. However a bolt of fire knocked the first brigand out the air and a massive shield from a knight blocked the second ones axe. From behind the young swordsmen walked the mage that had saved him.

"Get up young one", she spoke. "There is still much more fighting to do."

"Umm, right", spoke Orcleous as he pulled himself off the ground. Even with people at your side and back the battle field was still a dangerous place.

[Rogus]

And what job might that be, Mr. Roland? Rogus raised an eyebrow. The man wasn't dead like Oleg, so chatting with him was better than just standing there in silence; even if he knew he wouldn't get many direct answers. After all, he had no real way of knowing if the man's name was really Roland, but the man certainly was the type to fabricate a false identity so it was highly likely. He didn't much care to be honest, he only hid his real name in case someone who knew the story of the noble thief from Lycia happened to be around. The last thing he wanted was to be standing in the middle of a bandit encampment after being revealed to be a noble. Well, ex-noble to be exact, but that wouldn't stop a group of men short one or two brain functions from taking him captive and trying to ransom him off.

He watched another wave of bandits charge off toward the city. Lambs to the slaughter, in quite the literal sense as their leader fashioned himself as a "shepherd". And where do i sign up? He continued after watching the wave of men meet heavy resistance at the wall, Since you don't seem to have to join the "charge" and risk your neck for bandits I'd like to join. After all, like you said, I could do much more than throw myself at some wall with the rest of the rabble.

[Augustus Nacht]

"Roland Hawkthorne. Now isn't that a familiar name that rings some bells?" A voice interrupted as the Lord Reaper came into view, stepping out of the command tent. "Looking as good as ever, I must say. Though I suspect you're still missing that arm of your's, no?" The Druid was feeling quit cheeky, though it wasn't like the Assassin had any room to speak on that. He probably still would though.

"I'd like to speak with you a moment though, Roland. I'm sure you wouldn't mind?" Less a question and more a statement that the two were about to have words of some nature with each other.

---

The bandits that had survived the first charge clashed with the defenders that had emerged to engage in melee. Noticable for Orcleus though was two that were sticking to the back, a real brute looking of a man carrying a barrel that he was trying to setup along the wall, a scraggly looking man with a book in another hand was constantly yelling for him to hurry up, occasionally drowned out by the clashing of steel and death cries as a Defender or Bandit fell in their bloody skirmish.

A roar of cries issued out from behind as well, another Bandit group hailing from the north clearing their hurdles and making it to the wall, another group of Defenders charging off to fight them as well. It was like mass chaos and only a few things were clear on this battlefield.

[Zerachiel]

"Oh Lord Reaper, I was wondering when you were gonna show." Zera smirked, he knew this was going to happen. That's why he showed his self, it was only a matter of time for Nacht to show up and interject. Cheeky fellow, he looked over at Rogus and laughed. Shaking his head, holding up his stump of an arm for them both to see. "Yeah, I still miss it every day. I'm afraid it doesn't feel the same, doesn't respond to any of my letters." He looked at the head on the spike that belonged to a man known as Oleg it appeared.

"I'm sorry Rogus, looks like I have other plans." He told the thief with a shrug. "Don't worry though, we'll finish that conversation someday." He winked, making a small clicking noise with his tongue. He turned back to Nacht. "After you my lord." He gave a deep bow to the man. He wasn't planning on fighting or running, he wasn't here to fight Nacht. If he was, there was no way in hell he'd be moving about so openly. He was here to assist them, and it was doubtless that Nacht knew that to some extent after his actions during the raid on the city. He wasn't exactly 'stealthy' during that battle, but he wasn't trying to be. Like he said, win or lose it worked in his favor, he would help them win though to help with his favor. Having a group like this, that may or may not become a big force in the world in his bad books wasn't something he was planning.

He couldn't very well refuse anyways, could he?

[Orcleous]

Orcleous pulled himself off the ground and began to throw himself at the bandits again. The mercenary had already embarrassed himself twice today and he needed to make up for it. As he moved to clash with the enemy he noticed a man holding a barrel and another man yelling. It was clear that the man yelling was of some importance. He was probably a commander of some sorts. However the barrel seemed odd and the sight rolled around in Orcleous head for a moment.

"Why is he holding a barrel", spoke Orcleous out loud. As he spoke several defenders pushed around him to place themselves on the front lines of the enemy formation.

"If your scared go back behind the wall", spoke one man as he pushed by the young swordsmen.

"I am not scared you dumb fool", shouted Orcleous in a fit of anger. As much as Orcleous wanted to go an engage the enemy to prove him wrong he knew he needed to investigate the man with the barrel. Orcleous was not an expert on siege warfare, but somebody placing something next to their wall was obviously not a good idea. "Hey there is a barrel", shouted Orcleous. "Their moving a barrel toward the wall", shouted Orcleous.

"A Barrel", shouted another man with a serious expression. "There could be explosives in that barrel", shouted the man grabbing the attention of many of the soldiers.

"We need to break through their lines", shouted Orcleous. As the boy spoke the elderly man he had traveled to the city with came up from behind.

"Then we need to form a wedge", spoke the man as he tapped Orcleous on the shoulder and moved him next to him. The other mercenaries he had with him huddled together and placed their biggest man in the front. All together they charged forward slamming into the bandit lines. Like a wedge through a tree stump the bandit line split open as Orcleous and five other mercenaries powered their way through. As Orcleous broke from the formation he stabbed a bandit in the chest that had been knocked over by their movement.

"Aim for the Barrel", shouted Orcleous as chaos erupted around him.

[Rogus]

Well, at least the shepherd ignored him. Rogus paled when he heard the tell-tale voice of Nacht. He had no doubt he'd heard the thief agreeing with Zera's logic, but the man hadn't made any indication he even cared Rogus was present. Which, frankly, was a good thing; Rogus would rather not lose his neck  because of his lack of enthusiasm or something.

Best of Luck Roland. He'd leave the two alone, either to stand their or go into the tent, Rogus wouldn't care. It was time for him to look for georg, or leave since he hadn't been sent for yet. Either way He at least hadn't garnered the attention of that nut case Nacht.

[Augustus Nacht]

"Come now, Rogus. Stick around, I'll have something special for you in just a moment as well."

The Lord Reaper sounded pleased with that fact, though he also quite promptly turned and entered his tent once more with "Roland" following behind in short order. "Let's not play any games, now. I know not who you work for persay, but I know your actions for the type of trade they imply." He spoke as he began to approach a table, a small sigil drawn upon it, ringed by magical circle. "Do you know much about magic, Roland? It's quite fascinating. Anima, Elder, and Light. All drawn from sources beyond mortal ken. And those forces are capable of doing amazing things."

The faceless Shepard turned his head to look at the Sheep before looking at the Assassin once more. "And one of the amazing things I can do for you in particular is restore a certain something that you lost. And all you have to do is do two things for me."

He placed a pair of gloved hands upon the table, near the circle, but just outside of touching it. "Sabotage the defenses and help to ensure the death of the Crimson Demon. It's simple enough, yes?"

---

The Defenders continued to lash out upon the Bandits that had come, but the tide was starting to even out in a bad way for the Defenders of the City of Heroes. The first wave had started to thin, but as they did so, they began to encircle the man carrying the barrel now that he'd been singled out. Eventually, one of the nomads managed to stick him with a blade however, sending him toppling over as the mage screamed bloody murder in a nasally voice. Eventually he managed to get it upright once more, starting to flip through the pages of his Tome. A spot began to open for Orcleus however, allowing him a chance to stop the mage.

On the other hand, the second wave was starting to beat back the Defenders that had come out to face them. The Bandits that composed the second wave had seen more survivors, as well as seemingly heartier people. Another man carrying another big barrel and a nearby woman with a tome in hand were rushing up to the wall, no doubt out to complete the goal the first wave had as well.

[Orcleous]

"An opening", spoke Orcleous as he charged in. The mercenary kept his head low and ran as fast as he could. Orcleous did not say a word as he dashed forward and stabbed his silver blade into the man's chest. The sword dug deep and the mage gave out a blood chilled scream. With the sword still in him Orcleous twisted the blade and ripped it out the side of the man's body. At this point Orcleous was sure he was dead, but during the rush of the battle he did not notice the other men moving toward the wall caring the barrels. The only thing on his mind was getting back to a safe position.

"Why you", shouted a bandit as he abandoned his spot in the line to attack Orcleous. The mercenary raised his blade in his defense and blocked the axe with his sword. The bandit was then stabbed in the back by a defending soldier. "Good work", spoke the man as he looked at Orcleous. He then pulled his weapon out the bandits back.

[Zerachiel]

"I'm surprised, I would have assumed someone such as you would have known everything there is to know about little old me." He smirked. Then again Nacht was a mage, a researcher of dark disturbing arts, there was doubts he'd go through the trouble to get himself acquainted with Zerachiel. He was the sort of man who cared little for people outside of what they could do for him, Zera knew the type. Hell, he worked for the type, and if Zera was a bit less curious and a bit more ambitious he'd probably be the type himself. There were mysteries in people, and he loved to solve the puzzle. "Twist the knife in the old ego while you're at it." He added with a small chuckle. Nacht didn't see him as a threat, to be fair he wasn't much of one, he was just one man. One assassin against an army, this was no children's tale in which the hero cut through swathes of men single handedly. He was no hero, and there was nothing but death down that road. So there was no need for the necromancer to familiarize himself with Zera, then again... he could always be lying.

"Magic? More then most, less then some." He said very simply. Etruria was lousy with mages, of all kinds and all levels. He killed mages often, bishops too big for their britches, druids too stupid to stay in hiding and too poor to buy anmesty, sages who feel a sudden rush of 'heroism' and try to 'take back Etruria', he's been blasted with all kinds of magic throughout his life and it felt like he killed more mages then anything else. He lacked the finer details naturally, but you begin to pick up a lot of things when you live a life like his. Strengths, weaknesses, shortcomings and ways to dispose of them mostly. "Though I must say I've never been interested. Never had the patience, too twitchy. Not enough gold in it either."

The man in the mask turned toward Zera and the assassin thought for a moment looking at the blank mask. How did the guy see? Was there... eye holes he was missing somewhere? Maybe it was opaque from his side, that would mean he couldn't even see Zera all that well. Milky white filter over the whole world, probably not a good idea in battle.

"Considering that the dead walk every day, and death is scarcely the end of some men's journey, I'm not surprised." He wasn't an idiot, he knew what Nacht was suggesting. His arm, perhaps it's something he should have jumped at. It was true, his missing arm was the... root of many of his recent shortcomings in life. His life has suffered significantly since that day, and he still felt aches of pain in the phantom limb where his arm once was. He still felt as though it was still there at times, forgetting his self and the truth, he's resorted to avoid gesturing in it's entirety to avoid revealing the missing limb to people. So this was a no brainer, he should agree immediately, he should give everything he could possibly give to get it back but... Zera approached it with the same calm businesslike demeanor, his skills were just another form of currency. "I'm sure there are many things you could do for me." He grinned.

"Simple, yes you could say simple. It's usually the simple things that are hardest afterall.." What he was asking was, more or less, impossible. The wall prevented his entrance into the city, if he would try to scale it he would be caught quickly and dealt with. Nacht wanted him to sabotage the defenses, something he probably could have easily done before the battle, but in the midst it presented a much more difficult challenge. It wasn't a simple matter of killing the right man, there were countless soldiers flitting about that would replace them like roaches. It was a difficult suggestion, maybe not impossible, he was a creative and resourceful man after all, that wasn't the end however. Killing Kenshin? That was tantamount to suicide. Zera's killed men far stronger than his self in the past, but that usually required planning in advance. The right situation, hostages, distractions, people to throw away, poisons to buy. Kenshin wasn't just some poor pathetic beggar, the man was a legend for a reason. In a straight fight, Zera would barely be able to escape, assuming he didn't die in an instant. Kenshin has been on Etruria's list right from the outset, and there was a reason why it was never done. All in all, it was impossible, impossible for him to actually do. Sabotaging defenses, killing a legend, all in the middle of an all out war and with so many factors working against him. Zera was skilled in his craft, but he wasn't a miracle worker.

"I accept."

Impossible, yes, it seemed that way for sure. It didn't mean it actually was. In the end he didn't need to actually do all those things his self, but help things go in the right direction. He didn't need to sink his blade into Kenshin's throat, he just needed to make sure whoever did had a clear shot. He didn't need to destroy the wall, he just needed assist the ones who could. What Nacht was asking wasn't for Zera to fight the war by his self, but to fight the war with him. Something he could do, and the cherry on top? It didn't interfere with his interests. Winning this war would be just as useful for him as losing it, and having Kenshin's death on his record? Well that would be quite the feather in his cap. Even if he failed, it wouldn't be the end, he just needed to make sure he'd survive. It just meant there was one more group of people who weren't his friends, after half the continent hated different versions of you for different reasons, what's one more? He wasn't planning on betraying them, even for disgusting amounts of gold, so it would be doubtful they'd actively pursue him as a 'traitor' unlike some others. It was always a bit funny when assassins came hunting an assassin.

"I'm sure you expected that though. Clever man that you are." He brought his remaining arm to the side of his head, tapping his temple a few times with a toothy grin. "After all, how could someone refuse something clearly too good to be true?" Bringing back a missing hand was nothing compared to bringing back a dead man, so he entirely believed that Nacht could do such a thing. Probably the only person who could do such a thing, it was worth a shot at least.