|
Post by Renoir on Jun 30, 2015 21:47:47 GMT -6
Renoir stood silent: rare for him, though he knew he needed to let the man speak. He had a point, and it was fair, although Renoir disagreed with it. By his estimation, these men were not so vicious-- they simply felt that young girls made fine enough targets, and Renoir had no worries that anyone else was in danger. Still, he thought, perhaps the swordmaster was right. A bit silly, perhaps, but maybe right. "Hmm," he finally chimed in after listening. "Snow. How... clever." his tone was one of mild disgust, though only playfully so. He thought it was a touch juvenile, but then again, it might just save his life, not giving his name so freely. It was typical that he did. He hadn't ever been afraid of leaking the information. Maybe this man had had a poor experience doing such.
As Renoir stepped into the hall, his eyes adjusted quickly to the dark. A wooden structure, now? The hall was wide, expansive, hung with candles, wooden rafters about. The ground was still cobblestone. This was strange... it was as if the place was a fortress, constructed entirely underground. Renoir raised an eyebrow, appraising the scene. As the swordsman stepped through, Renoir followed, leaving his bow on his back. "I'm not a man of many stories, you know," he lied, a grin appearing on his face as he looked above him. What a high ceiling... Unlikely that there were higher floors. Right now, all that could be seen was another door at the end of the hallway, and right beside it, a staircase leading down. The prison, maybe? That's where they needed to be.
"Seeing as you won't reveal your name, I suppose I won't call you anything," Renoir cooed, displeased with the situation, but only mildly so. His half-hearted distaste was evident in his voice, but perhaps only like a hungry man realizing he had no more snacks. "Let's hope we don't need to call out to each other, mm?"
"I don't know what your story is, but whatever it happens to be, I expect it is rooted in part here, with these... slavers. Perhaps you've had run ins before. Regardless, I want you to know that the very second that your emotional instability takes control of your mind, I'll put an arrow in your skull and be done with it." He turned his head back to the swordsman. It wasn't a threat-- at least, he didn't intent it to be. It was a fact. He had no animosity towards the man, but Renoir knew from experience that a man in such a state was volatile, an easy tool for an enemy to twist against himself. It was dangerous, reckless, and stupid. By Renoir's count, he needed to get ahold of himself, and fast.
He walked forward again, his hand on a wooden bannister that lined the hall all the way to the end, where the stairs began. In front of them was another door-- a wooden door, surely unlocking, leading into gods-knew-what. "That said, I'm glad to have you on my side. Now, stairs or door? Let's tempt fate. I'll let you decide."
|
|
|
Post by Euphemious on Jul 1, 2015 6:15:49 GMT -6
Suddenly Euphemious was hit again by three arrows. He was really testing the strength of his armor today. The blows were enough to knock the breath out of the General and throw him off balance. His enemy saw this opening and charged in with his lance. His aim was fixed on Euphemious neck guard. If he could stab his spear up the helmet he was sure he could be rid of the armored man. However Euphemious, being a experiences user of heavy armor, knew where all his weak points where and knew how the enemy would go about trying to exploit them. As the man stabbed forward Euphemious swung his axe. His aim was not to kill the man, but rather to hoot his weapon with the space between the head and the shaft. Pulling the spear down Euphemious redirected the blow and instead of the spear going through his throat it pressed into the thick plate armor. Taking the opening Euphemious brought down his sword and cut the head of the spear off the shaft effectively disarming the man. However the General did not stop there. As the man tried to pull low the general swung his weapon and hooked his leg with his axe causing the man to fall to the ground. Like the first man the general killed Euphemious then placked his foot on the man and then sent him to the underworld.
"Retreat", shouted one of the archers as the trio began to fall back into another room. It was a good sign that there was more waiting for him further in. However Euphemious was going to have to get smarter about this. He could not keep taking those arrows. His armor was thick, but the punch from the bows. Well it had a way of wearing down on you. Euphemious could not rely on his armor to ward off all blows. Still he had a breather while the cowards ran. The general placed his sword by in its sheath and reattached his axe to his waist. It was clear to him that the blade or the axe was not the weapon he needed for this battle. Grabbing his shield Euphemious removed his final weapon from his back. The blade shinned with a silver hue as Euphemious banished his signature Guan Dao, Black Dragon. Like a army Euphemious began to march toward the second room. His shield firmly held in his left and his spear in his right the Knight once again knocked down a door and as he was expected he was greeted with a volley of arrows. However this time he was ready as the arrows slammed into his massive shield and not his armor.
Euphemious stared into the room for a moment and then began to walk backwards. He was not going to fall for there ambush again. Rather than go to the enemy he let them come to him. They needed him eliminated more than he needed to kill them.
|
|
|
Post by Duma on Jul 1, 2015 12:39:32 GMT -6
Duma had turned around to face the man he now called "Snow". There was a bit of a scowl etched onto his face. He did not like the white haired man's attitude or the the comment about him firing an arrow into his head if he did not have a firm grip on his emotions. What is your problem? You threaten to shoot me in one sentence then claim to be glad I am here in the next? Make up your mind. His opinion of this gentleman was shifting. He had hoped to have this man as an ally throughout their endeavor not as an enemy.
"Not that I do not doubt your ability to feather me in between the eyes... but I can assure you my emotions will be kept in check for the remainder of this.. little expedition. I am a professional." He replied in a calm tone, a tone that did well to hide the slight impatience he was feeling. Not a two faced indecisive lout. He turned back around and kept walking. Besides if you kill me, you will be down a man. And I.. apparently am the only one who know's how these trafficker's operate. He kept his facial expression neutral save for the slight narrowing of the eyes. How there were two options before them, doors or stairs.
Duma opened the door and found it to be nothing more then a supply closet. Inside were barrels, some rope, kindling, chairs, and torch material. Duma carefully poked through the closet space with his blade checking for any hidden tunnels or switches.
"No secret passages. Just a closet they use to keep the torch supplies for the tunnels." He spoke as he closed the door.
"Stairs it is then." He approached the old wooden stairs and descended down on them. He kept one hand on his blade and the other on the wooden handles on the side of them. The old stairs creaked and moaned under the pair's shuffling weight. This drew the attention of a small group of traffickers.
"Company." He spoke back to "Snow", then flicked the wrist of his sword arm.
"Oi! Intruders!" One man spoke as the others started to get ready. Behind them Duma could see a cage with some folks huddled in between the shadows. One man with an axe charged forward at the swords man, Duma parried his blow and with one swift movement cut him down. The fight was on.
|
|
|
Post by Renoir on Jul 1, 2015 13:50:13 GMT -6
"Wonderful." Renoir said plainly, unimpressed with the man's attempt to hide his emotions. In truth, Renoir believed that yes, the man could probably put a cap on himself for now, but he was displeased with the man's internal state of affairs nonetheless-- he was worried that the man would become a liability. And honestly, Renoir wasn't quite sure that this man's presence was a necessity... Though, he recognized that he could be wrong. Time would tell how necessary this new nameless man was. At the end of it, though, Renoir would pry a name from him. He was far too curious now to let it die.
Professionalism is important, Renoir thought as he watched the swordsman look through the supplies. Renoir looked over his shoulder, deciding for himself that indeed, there was nothing of use save for maybe the rope, and he wasn't even sure himself that they could use it. Or what they might use it for... It was unlikely that these slavers would be captured alive; though Renoir would have preferred them alive, he knew the man he was with wouldn't let him be so civil or cautious. But if he could keep any of them alive... It might be to his advantage. When the swordsman was quit of the cabinet, Renoir drew some rope out, tying a loop of it around his waist to be used later. He said nothing to the swordsman as he ventured down the stairs, but followed close behind, saying nothing, but keeping his eyes peered into the dark.
Soon, he heard the footsteps, and as he heard them, the swordsman drew his blade and was immediately upon them. Renoir sighed. Looked like they would charge the place... And how messy a job it would be, he thought. He preferred cleanliness, but his two companions didn't... So be it. "Intruders indeed," Renoir said loudly, directing his bittersweet voice at one of the men over the side of the railing. Renoir quickly hopped over it, a solid five meters above one of the armed men. While airborne, Renoir drew his bow and notched an arrow. In a mere second, the heels of his leather boots came down upon the man's shoulders, bringing him straight to the ground, Renoir stepped off of him gracefully, then placed his foot softly on the man's neck while he struggled.
One twist, and the man's neck snapped under him. Renoir remained unfazed, and then pointed his bow at another man a few feet away.
He hummed a soft, sweet tune aloud when he released his arrow, and it flew straight and true, right towards a man beginning to draw his sword upon them. It landed in the side of his skull, cracking loudly, with certainty, and the man dropped to the floor, blood spouting from his temple. Renoir smiled, pleased with his shot, close though it was. He hated close shots.
As one of the last men approached him, Renoir put his bow upon his back. He raised his hands up, palms open, and spread his legs apart, ready to jump and evade as needed. The man charged with his blade. Renoir was excited.
|
|
|
Post by Euphemious on Jul 1, 2015 19:51:55 GMT -6
As the first man rushed into the room to engage Euphemious the General stabbed forward with his regal spear. The blade pieced clean through his die shield and sent the man to the underworld. The soldier behind him learned from that man's lesson and began his retreat, but it was to late. He was already to close. Euphemious simply slid his hand down further on the shaft and stabbed forward. The blade of the Guan Dao pierced through his back and sent that man with his friend to the next world. After taking out the vanguard Eupehmious marched back into the room. There were only the three archers left who he made quick work of. At this time Euphemious was finally able to get a good look at his surroundings. He had been focus on killing so much that he did not notice the area around him. Part of the room was filled with shoes, and a whole lot of them at that. It was amazing to see so many in once place. The general already knew where they came from, but he prefered to not think about it. Moving on he noticed a few keys and some other small items. This must be where they stored the belonging of the people they brought in thought Euphemious to himself. As the general looked around he saw something that caught his eye.
"What the", spoke the general as he rushed over to the table. On the desk he saw a pendent that looked all to familiar. The symbol on it matched the one on his family blade and caused Euphemious to raise a eyebrow. "This is the symbol of the Lowlanders", he spoke with surprise. Normally one would let there mind jump to the worst of all possible answers, but Euphemious already knew his cousins were safe. He checked up on them before he even began this chase. No somebody else had passed through here. Somebody else related to him had been sold in this market. The general gripped the pendent tightly and then put it in his pocket. There was a chance that this was just luck or quiescence. The lowlander manner had been sacked some years ago. The person who had claim to this item could have been a common thief that took from the rubble. However Euphemious did not believe so. He believed that there was somebody sharing his blood in this facility or had already passed through. He was going to need some time to look over there ledgers.
As the general walked outside the room he noticed something usual. There was a glint of light in the distance. Naturally Euphemious raised his shield and just in time. A dagger bounced off the metal and lodged itself into the wall. If Euphemious had not acted quickly it could have found a spot inside of his eye slot.
"My my you are pretty skilled for a walking tin can", spoke a voice as a man walked out from the shadows. Euphemious could not see his face as it was covered with cloth. However from the looks of him he was some kind of thief or maybe even a assassin.
|
|
|
Post by Duma on Jul 3, 2015 9:15:18 GMT -6
Duma dispatched of men who charged at him with ease. Majority of them were slow and inexperienced men in the ways of combat. Men who would easily fall at the hands of the seasoned veterans. Duma focused his attention to one man in particular. The guy who had the set of keys dangling upon his belt. He charged forward and feinted a hit to his arms but crouched low and disabled the man's ankles. Once the guardsman had fallen Duma delivered two quick incision to the man's arms. Severing the man's tendons rendering him useless. The guardsman was wounded but alive. He sighed softly as the last man fell. The sword-master recovered the keys off of his belt and approached the cage.
"The cell guard needs to be interrogated. Perhaps he can spill the details as to where they may be other cages. I think.. I shall leave that bit of business to you." He peered through the bars of the cell. Looking for anything out of the ordinary. There were a slew of young girls and a few boys chained by the ankles to the back walls. They stared back at him with glossy eyes that seemed to pierce the veil of shadows. He walked away for a moment to survey the area. The swordsman grabbed a torch from a nearby wall to help him see better. There were no other doors or hallway save for the one that the two of them came from. No other important paperwork save for when to feed the captives. He approached the cage again. He turned to speak to his white haired companion.
"It seems we need to backtrack. There doesn't appear to be any other passages around here. Hopefully, the general is alright. We can guide the captives back up and out to the caves. Back to the surface. Or... I can guide them back up to the surface and you can split off to find your friend." He started to look for the right key for the cell door. Click. Duma found the right key and opened the door.
|
|
|
Post by Renoir on Jul 3, 2015 9:40:29 GMT -6
"Ah," Renoir began, licking his lips evilly as he approached the guard that was still alive, purposefully stepping on the heads of the guards that lie dead on the ground as he walked. He was excited-- interrogation wasn't something he got to do often, and he was by no means skilled at the art. There was, however, a similarity to hunting-- this man would very likely give them whatever information they needed if he knew his life was on the line. Renoir approached the man and knelt down beside him, jokingly stroking the guard's cheek with the back of his hand.
"So it goes. Fine, you take them and be quit of this place-- wait for us outside; it seems that there may be somewhere else we have yet to go." Renoir fixed his eyes on the guard, who was cowering, but not yet screaming. It seemed he knew he would lose his life. "Leave this lovely chap to me. I'll find Euphemious and meet you outside."
Renoir took the man's face in his hands, cocking an eyebrow as he studied him. The man was sweating profusely, but not fighting to free himself. Perhaps he knew that dying of blood loss was in his immediate future, and struggling would only speed his demise. Smart man, Renoir thought. But unfortunately, not smart enough. Renoir moved his face past the guard's face, putting his mouth right at the man's ear. He let go of the man's face and reached behind him, pulling a small, fist-sized sack of out his back pocket. He took it in his hand, and then pulled the guard's hand overtop of it, so that they had their fingers intertwined around this tan-colored explosive. Renoir could trigger it now, killing them both... But that wasn't his style. Intimidation was his style.
Once the guard noticed that it was indeed a mine, he gasped a little, and began to breathe faster. Renoir smiled, and whispered coyly in his ear. "You tell me where we can find the rest of your girls, and maybe I'll bandage your wounds. You choose not to, and we can be off to paradise together." He joked, pulling his head back so he could face the man again. He knew that if the guard thought Renoir was serious enough to take his own life, he would play this little game more effectively-- any killer worth their salt knew it wasn't enough to threaten one man with his life... But to threaten both lives, at the expense of one's own death... That was a serious bargain. The guard's fearful eyes reflected his inner conflict; he was afraid of death. He knew it was close. He could feel it around his palm, around the mine that, with the pull of a string, could detonate right there in his grasp.
After swallowing a few times, the guard spoke. "W-We have a smaller outpost on the outskirts of town, n-not far from here, i-it's our receiving HQ, a checkpoint of sorts, i-it acts as our middle man. We stamp all the girls before they're shipped out for good, a-and our commanding officer, the guy in charge of the Sacae ring, s-should be there right now. A group just left a few hours ago with a smaller c-caravan of girls-- p-please don't kill me! I'm just trying to earn some coin!"
Renoir feigned a look of sympathy, nodding his head along as the stroked the man's cheek again. After a few tense, heavy moments, he released the man's hand and put the mine back in his back pouch on his waist. "Oh, my poor soul. I believe you. Times are hard, I know. I know." He reached up and kissed the man's forehead, and as he did, Renoir pulled an arrow from his quiver and shoved it deep into the man's stomach, and he screamed wretchedly, writhing in pain as Renoir twisted the arrow inside of his gut, causing the man more amounts of pain than he had known before.
Renoir backed up, looking at the man again as the life left his eyes. He twisted the arrow once more, his mouth flinching into a dark smile as he did. Once the man was finally dead, Renoir pulled the arrow from him, cleaned off the blood, and put it back in his quiver.
"You go on," he told the swordsman. "I'll go find Euphemious."
|
|
|
Post by Euphemious on Jul 3, 2015 10:12:25 GMT -6
Euphemious stabbed forward exspecting a easy win. To his great suprise however the man was far faster than he thought. As the guan dao pushed forward he slightly moved to the side doding the blade by a hair and moved inside of Euphemious spear rang. He quickly grabbed the shaft of the weapon and attempted to break it using his short sword. To his spurose however the shaft was made entirely of metal. The bandage wrappings Euphemious kept on it hid that truth from plain eyes and with good reason too. Situations like this proved the usefulness of hiding the material the shaft of the spear was made of.
With the shaft grabbed the close space the man was to his Euphemious abandoned his Guan Dao as a weapon. Instead of struggling to break the man's grip Euphemious dropped the spear, which caused him to bend over a big as the weight fell on the assassin alone. The knight then drew his Champion Sword and slashed out at the man. However the assassin was fast and by the time Euphemious drew his blade he had already pulled back and made some space. Quickly the man shifted from his tip heavy short sword and moved into two daggers. The first had a jagged edge and was obvioulsy of the killer variety. The second one however was more of a threat. Its stubbed and pointed designed told him it was made to pierce armor. A mail breaker, no it was to thick for that. It was probably a modified blade of mercy. All Euphemious knew however was that letting him stab that into his chest would be a bad idea.
Euphemious slashed out at his opponent with his sword. The man quick on his feet ducked under the attack and dodged the armored General's assult. Quickly Euphemious pulled back on his arm hoping to catch the man with a backhanded slash. Unfortunately this was what the assassin wanted. As Euphemious pulled back he jumped backwards dodging Euphemious attack and taking advantage of his openings. He lunged forward with both daggers pointed downward. Using the arm with the killer dagger he pressed his forearm against Euphemious attacking risk and removed the champions sword from the equation. With his right hand raised he moved to stab down on the general with his armor piercing knife, but Euphemious himself was no slouch. As he moved to stab Euphemious pressed forward. The general pressed his body against his and began to push the assasin back. The knife however did stab into Euphemious armor. However instead of getting the chest as he wanted his blade hit the top of the shoulder where the armor was its thickets. Euphemious could feel the blade eating into his flesh, but the wound was shallow.
With great force Euphemious slammed the man into the wall. His armor pressing on the assassins body. Pulling back Euphemious moved to slam his shield into the man, but the assasin used the moment to slip out. It was a mistake on Euphemious part. He should not have given the man the opportunity. The assassin though wounded from the assault prepared to go again. As damaged as he was from being slammed into the wall Euphemious was even more so from the stab through his shoulder armor. The General however was not going to let him control the pace. It was clear to Euphemious that the assassin was far better at sword fighting that he was, but using a axe against him would just be plain foolishness. If the general was going to win he was going to need to use his shield to his advantage.
The first one to attack was not the assassin this time, but rather Euphemious himself. The general charged forward like a bull. His shield held out infront and his attack predictable. The assasin moved to the side as Euphemious past him and smashed his shield into the wall. "You fool", shouted the Assassin as he rushed forward and brabbed onto Euphemious back. A knight never shows his back to his opponent. That was the first rule Euphemious was taught as a boy as he trained to be a knight. Now as a general he made that very mistake and to as assassin no less. Pulling on his dagger the assassin moved to stab upward into Euphemious armor. The only true opening one can find on the back. If he got his blade into that slot he was sure to have victory. However there was something wrong. The assassin did not think of it, but Euphemious had given him the back shot far to easy. It was the first thing Euphemious learned as a knight and the thing that was drilled into him since he was a small boy. Never show your enemy your back, but now in this fight Euphemious had easily done so, why.
As the assassin moved to stab Euphemious jumped into the air, but not forward, but backwards. Using his entire weight Euphemious jumped backwards falling onto the assassin. Euphemious knew the moment he showed the assassin his back he would move for the kill spot. He knew how fast the man was and he knew how long it would take to execute the move. Calculating all that in his head Euphemious gave the assassin the opportunity and once he thought he had victory Euphemous turned it into his downfall.
With a loud booming sound Euphemious fell back onto the man. Two hundred and forty five pounds of muscle and flesh combined with the extra mass of the armor fell down onto him crushing him under the weight. He was not dead, yet, but he sure was injured. Rolling over Euphemious pulled himself off the ground. The assassin was coughing up blood as he attempted to get back on his feet. The General, being Euphemious, did not let that happen. Taking his Tower Shield Euphemious smashed into the man's leg. He was taking no chances of the assassin countering him ans some how pulling off a masterful victory. On more than one ocassion he had seen knights go down just when it looked like they had won. Slowly but surely Euphemious beat the man down with his shield. When all the fight was gone out of him Euphemious took his blade and stabbed it into the man's throat nearly killing him instantly.
"D@#$ Assassins", spoke Euphemious as he looked around for another door. This guy had to come from somewhere and it sure was not from behind him.
|
|
|
Post by Duma on Jul 3, 2015 23:02:01 GMT -6
Duma made his way into the cell while "Snow" was left to interrogate the jailer. The group of captives huddled together with one another out of fear. The swordmaster had a small frown as he approached them.
"No. No. Don't be afraid. I'm here to get you out." He spoke with a gentle voice. But they were still fearful of him. Duma knew he didn't exactly have the warmest of appearances. Perhaps their opinion of him would sway once he started to undo their shackles. But forst he called out to the oldest one of the bunch, a girl. Who appeared to be about 12. A freckled little thing with a chipped tooth and freckles across her face. She had light brown eyes with brown hair to match. He pointed at her and the children seemed to shove her body closer to him. Duma could tell she was scared. And the scars and bruises on her tiny body told him they had beaten her. The bruises and marks on her wrist and neck told him that they tortured her. He closed his eyes for a moment to suppress the emotions.
"Can you understand me?" He asked with the same gentle voice. The girl tried to push herself back with the other kids, she clearly afraid of him. The girl cried out something in the nomadic language. An unpleasant word used to describe men.
"No. I am a friend." He replied back in the same language she was speaking. This turned the heads of a few of the other children as well. Children whom were probably of the same clan.
"Friend." He repeated the word a second time then put his hand over his heart. This was somewhat of a universal sign among the nomads. It meant a variety of different things to the clans but almost all of them were positive.
"I.. will get you out." He spoke slowly.
"But.. you must hold hands. As we walk, you all follow behind me. And stay quiet. You.. help me. Keep everyone together. Yes?" As he spoke he used hand-signals to help get his point across. Duma's knowledge of tribal language was good but not as good as a native speaker. His pronunciation of some syllables was off but understandable as far as he could see. The young girl seemed to understand and turned over to the rest of the children. She spoke to them in a hushed tone until they got up and managed to be calm at his presence. The girl nodded at Duma.
"White haired man. Also friend. Do not be afraid." He got to work unshackling the children from their chains.
"Come. We go. Remember to stay quiet." As he made his way back out of the cell with the small group of children in tow, Snow addressed him. The sniper, who had finished interrogating the jailer, told Duma to head out and meet them outside.
"Very well. I've.. a few trust worthy contacts who will see to it that these children are returned to their villages."If you care. The swordsman sighed softly and began leading the children out of the slaver's den.
|
|
|
Post by Renoir on Jul 4, 2015 8:59:56 GMT -6
Renoir folded his arms, standing up as he watched the man travel out with the group of girls in tow. He raised an eyebrow at a few of them, who immediately looked away, fearful of him without any doubt. As if he wouldn't have killed them already, if that had been his goal... Renoir rolled his eyes, pushing the body of the dead guard aside, grabbing the keys at his waist. While the swordsman hauled the troop out, Renoir took care to move the dead bodies into a cell and lock it tight. It was tedious work, as he wasn't very physically strong, but it would be best this way-- if anyone else came to this would-be abandoned hideout, it would be best to not see immediately the bodies of the disposed. In any case, they would obviously be found in time, but hiding bodies might buy an extra day or so. Better to think the place is abandoned than routed.
Finishing his work, Renoir dusted his hands off, scoffing internally at the cell now full of a handful of dead guards. They had it coming, he told himself. Their line of work was disgraceful and unholy, earning them all special spots in the fires of the afterlife, he assumed. He would likely be there, in time, to be with them... The man looked down, coming to terms with his fate. While he had no qualms with taking lives, he knew he had taken too many in his time, and oftentimes he found himself trying to count the number of men he had killed, both guilty and innocent, in his short years. He sighed, deciding to go find Euphemious.
As he climbed the stairs and backtracked, Renoir found the central hub that the three men had initially stood in, trying to decide how to split off. The documents and the like were all still on the table, and there was no sign of the swordsman and his troupe of slaves. How odd it might look, Renoir thought, for a man to be leading them all out. Although half-heartedly, Renoir hoped that the man would find safe passage, and would be able to lead the girls to safety... He also hoped he wouldn't attempt to find the checkpoint on his own, the place where his own feelings might draw him. He had taken the letter, after all... Renoir considered his options. He could leave now, leave Euphemious, and hope that the swordsman hadn't done anything stupid, but... Although he cursed his fleeting moral compass for it, he decided to find Euphemious.
Perusing over some of the documents that lay on the tables around him, Renoir made his way down the hall towards the direction that Euphemious had gone. At the end of the hall, the white-haired man saw another door, no doubt crashed in by the man's shield. Disgruntled, Renoir sighed, closing his eyes as he continued to walk forward. He ran a hand through his white mane, clicking his tongue in distaste as he considered Euphemious modem operatus. There were cleaner ways to get these things done, he thought.
"Euphemious?" Renoir called sweetly, as if a mother were calling for her child. He stepped through the door, noticed the body on the ground, and looked at the armored giant, who looked like he had just killed a mountain lion with his bare hands. "Well well," The sniper said, impressed. "Looks like you've been having your own brand of fun."
|
|
|
Post by Euphemious on Jul 4, 2015 13:58:51 GMT -6
"Been better", spoke Euphemious as he kicked open another door. The General was surpised to see the man return so quickly. Though he had been fighting for a good bit. Euphemious half expected him to be followed by a team of weeping children not empty handed, but the lack of the swordsmen made him think the other man had the children they came to save. As Euphemious knocked open the door he was greeted with a very usual sight. He was expecting more soldiers, maybe some clothing, or even documents. Instead he found gold, not much, a single bar and a iron safe. He figured there was probably more of it inside. That and a few instruments for measuring weight and a weapon rack missing all of its weapons. "Well looks like we found the money. I was hoping for more sleaves", spoke the General as he turned around and walked out the room. Euphemious had no desire for gold, but at the same time he did not want the slaves to have it. However he did not have time to try and carry a safe out so he simply left it behind. They were lucky.
"So did you all find anyone on your side", spoke Euphemious as he began to walk back to the room that they came in from. The General wanted to take some of the records. They would prove useful in figuring out who was taken and where the went. If they were lucky they could track down many of them and return them to there homes or even hunt down the other locations and put a stop to them. If they had any bases in Bern Euphemious was sure that he would rally the rebellion and put a stop to it. They were the shield of Bern they could not simply let this go on inside of there nation, or anywhere for that matter.
As the General waited for him to respond he began to look throuhg papers talking about shipments and destinations. He was already starting to place some of the papers into his bag.
|
|
|
Post by Duma on Jul 4, 2015 18:47:01 GMT -6
Duma slowly led the small group of children through the dark halls. The kids followed behind him, each holding the other's hand and speaking in hushed low tones. Some were still scared and confused. Duma brought the children through the document room, up the stairs, and outside. The swordsman took a moment to look behind him. He saw no sign of "snow" or the "general". The swordsman kept his senses on alert. Some of the children breathed a small sigh of releif when they saw the night sky and the leaves upon the ground. One child pulled a prickly seed from out underneath his foot.
"We have to walk a little further. I have a friend in a wagon. He will get you home. The first and closest village upon the stop is Amaryllis. How many of you are from there?" He asked calmly. A group of about five children raised their hands up. He nodded. Duma then began talking the names of other cities and villages nearby. He ws able to confirm that the rest of the kids came from either Bulgar or Azure.
"My friend is name 'Alm'. He's a big man with a bald head but he's a good man. And a woman named 'Celice'. His crew will get you home." He spoke softly once more before guiding them out through the path.
"Just a bit further."
Soon the swordsman came up across a large caravan's wagon. Duma instructed the children to wait by the trees while he looks inside. He greeted "Alm" a man whom he had worked with before. He hated smugglers as much as Duma did. As traffickers were responsible for murdering his wife and children. "Alm" got his revenge on the smugglers, then washed his hands from the life of a murder. He turned his back to the warrior life and turned to faith. "Celice" his partner, was an old nun. Her parish was burnt down by raiders ages ago and found a but of a calling with "Alm's" group of vigilantes.
"I've got about 10 kids here. First village is Amaryllis. Careful on your way through there. They are a bit spooked. Most of them speak Sacean." He motioned for the children to approach. Alm slowly stepped off of the wagon and began loading the kids into the wagon. Inside the wagon there were blankets and some fresh bread. The old nun then divided the bread up among the children to calm them down. She spoke to them in a calm gentle voice.
"No worries Du.." Duma stared at him.
"Ah.. right our names. No worries Brush head." He gave the swordsman a grin. That wasn't the name we agreed on.
"The oldest one with brown hair is name Wen. She's got most of the children's trust and speaks in Sacean. She knows a few words in the common language. Her village is Azure. Then the last few children are from Bulgar. Think you and 'Valencian' crew can get them safely there?"
"Heh.. Course we are. Thanks for letting us know this little operation was here."
"Mmh.. Thank you for managing to come out on such short notice. I've still.. got some more work to do. Good luck." The two men gave each other a firm handshake before they headed off into the woods. Duma would simply have to put his faith in his comrades. By now the pink rays of the sun were starting to make their way up from the horizon, the swordsman made his return back to the entrance of the cave to wait for the other two. He picked a perch ontop of a tree and waited for them, hidden from view.
|
|
|
Post by Renoir on Jul 4, 2015 21:51:52 GMT -6
Renoir chuckled, following Euphemious back out into the central hub, looking over some documents as Euphemious did the same. "So it seems," he said lightly, flashing a glance over to the man. He'd been in a battle, no doubt, but had thankfully come out the victor. It didn't surprise him... He was the thunder, after all. And very capable, at that. Renoir wondered what sort of man it might take to bring the general down... Or what type of combat would be best suited to best him. He wasn't sure that there was one besides magic.
The man drew his hands across some papers on the table, walking down, ignoring most of them. There was simply too much here... Too many lives had been taken advantage of. While this operation was nothing so large it had attracted worldwide attention, it was certainly disheartening and disgusting to think about the number of people that had been taken advantage of. Renoir's face remained stoic, but inside, his heart was falling apart. How cruel and vicious... These men deserved to die, though Renoir wasn't sure how much longer he could play the part of Fate's hand. He had done well so far, but how much longer until he couldn't take anymore? The same had happened in Ilia...
He closed his eyes, effectively pushing the thought from his mind. He read over some papers about a shipment of girls to the outskirts of Ilia, and wondered if these people really did travel the globe. The only place it seemed they steered clear of was Etruria, and not to his surprise. What a dangerous place that would be to operate a ring such as this. They would surely be routed. Disgusted, Renoir tossed the paper aside as Euphemious spoke to him.
"Mm, well, we found a handful of captives. The swordsman promptly freed them and took off... I expect he'll be back soon. As for my part, I'm not sure we have allies in this struggle," he said, disheartened again. "I can't get a read on this green-haired man. He seems fair enough, but Euphemious, if he so much as looks at me the wrong way, I think I might just put an arrow in him and call it a day. Regardless... I digress. Let's be off, my friend."
Renoir flashed the general a small, fake smile, and proceeded up the stairs and out into the open, early morning air. He sighed heavily as he stepped out... What a long, arduous night. And it wasn't over yet.
|
|
|
Post by Euphemious on Jul 5, 2015 17:30:07 GMT -6
"Hmm don't really like the sound of that", spoke Euphemious as Renoir spoke about the sacaen. "Is it is actions or the lack of actions that places you on edge", spoke Euphemious as he began to walk toward the exit. Euphemious never really cared for the guy. He was a unknown and he really did not trust him. However he seemed good enough that he got the children out and safe. However Renoir seemed to not like him, which was odd to the general. There was something going on that Euphemious could not understand. Was it that the sword master did something that got under the snipers skin or was it just a personality clash he could not tell. All he knew was that one was willing to kill the other with a drop of a hat. He did not pick Renoir as a man to kill so easily, but then again he had just meet him not long ago. However there had to be some understanding between the two of them if Renoir was telling him this.
"Well he is Sacaen", spoke Euphemious finally as he juggled all of these thoughts in his head. "Maybe the reason you can't read him is because of his background. They have a difference in culture than us Bernanites. By the way do you think we should burn this place to the ground or simply let it sit here as a hollow shell. I doubt that any of the slavers will use it again, but they might come back. On one side we will know exactly where they are and on the other they could use it to ship out more slaves."
The general rubbed his chin as he began to think on the matter. Unknown to him however there was a possible outpost they needed to hit. Euphemious figured there job was done, thought he lamented that he did not get a chance to meet some of the captured children. He might have found somebody related to him amongst them. The pendent he found holding the symbol was still in his pocket. He would look through the record books he kept before he turned it into the rebellion and see if he could find a connection.
|
|
|
Post by Duma on Jul 5, 2015 20:35:01 GMT -6
Duma sighed softly and waited. The swordsman began to think on the night's events. He was glad that he managed to get to those children in time before they were carted off. But now he would have to backtrack into Bern and find Callie. He promised her mother she would return her to the village. The woman had opened her home to him, offered him food, and a place to stay. So long as he did his fair share of work around her village. He looked through the entrance of the cave there was no sign of movement. He wondered if the other two had ran into some sort of trouble. Give them a bit more time. The swordsman pulled out the letter he recovered from the hideout. Part of him wondered what the little girl was feeling right now. She was probably scared, confused, and hurt. He shook his head. No child should have to suffer.
He folded the letter away. He took a moment to stare up at the sky in order to calm himself. Slavers, the very word was enough to mildly annoy him. And the people who willingly dealt with it as a profession managed to set him off even more. The swordsman closed his eyes for a moment. He hadn't realized it but he was tired. His body was a bit achey and his head felt like it was being squeezed together by an invisible force. The swordsman had been up for at least a full day by now, tracking down these villains. He wasn't expecting to find two more people who helped him, but he was glad he did. He felt a bit stupid for even thinking he could have taken these guys on on his own. I might need to get a better grip on myself when it comes to slavers. That was.. dumb of me to fly off the handle like that and run into the lions den. The swordsman cracked one eye open and looked towards the mouth of the cave. He could hear voices coming out from the darkness. Must be them.
|
|