Hydaelyn Role-Players

Kiht nearly attempted to skewer the the male. She was tense and welling with anger, and then that annoyance of a male appeared. However, she was not going to act in a hostile manner until she knew who he was. A huntress thinks before attacking. She was more so put on hold when Siha indicated that the male was a contact.

Very little was betrayed by Kiht. She bore a mild scowl at the male; despite his attempt at charm. Her expression held, and her body simply shifted as she watched and kept track of the male's movements.

Kiht looked to Siha then to Youkio. Some of what he said she understood, but other things she had no context on. Tempest? Sounded like the name of a Roegadyn Hellsguard woman. However, Kiht remained silent until Siha talked to her.

Kiht nodded to Siha. "Very well. As I said, guide me into this for now. I know not everyone who is in the Red Wings, nor do I fully know your plans, but I will help as best I can." Kiht said in a serious tone.

She then regarded Youkio; unphased by his attitude. "With respect, do we have time for unneeded stories? I can tell you about the time I skewered a few people, but I will spare you. If the Flames have already captured a member of the Wings, we must hurry." She stated in a calm, but serious tone then turned her gaze to Siha; awaiting her response.

The Cell of Kahn'a

"Well, Mr. Od'hilkas,  whether your are innocent are not, you will suffer for your slight of my character.  You have been rude and rudeness is not kind and I do not suffer such behavior."

Kresha lunged forward and scratched several times along Kahn'a's face before the man with the towel wrapped the towel tightly around Kahn'as head as the other man seized the first bucket of salt water and began pouring it slowly over the miqo'te's face as Kresha tossed the blood covered tool into the corner as she waited for the thirty seconds to pass before the bucket was empty.  Kresha then seized Kahn'a's throat and pressed her lips together as tightly as she began squeezing the miqo'te's throat.

"Your Red Wings have abandoned you just as you have abandoned Ul'dah.  No one will find you, no one will come for you.  Not event he Twelve can save you in here.  I am your god now.  Look at it this way, Mr. Od'hilkas.  The longer your fellow Red Wings are free, the longer I keep doing this to you. It's in your interest to spill your words so I'll be direct.  Where would your Red Wings hide in Limsa?  Where?!"

Kresha let the throat go and waited as the bloody towel was pulled off Kahn'as face, exposing the bleeding gashes.

Titor's cell

"Certainly."  Alec said, nodding and then opened his book.  He licked his finger before turning several pages and, without pausing, began to read:

"Harboring a terrorist.  Smuggling illicit wares.  Associating with the enemy.  Plotting against the crown.  Selling military secrets.  Espionage. That's the base of it, but certainly does not place your unit in a positive light.  We are aware you are a newer addition and that you might not be fully involved with these acts but you are suspect and were were ordered to bring in all the Red Wings immediately and to treat you as potential traitors until we have proven otherwise.  So any part you wish to discuss first?"

Titor took a deep breath. Those were some hefty charges. While he had not witnessed any acts of terrorism directly, there were a few strange happenings around the Wings that he was a bit skeptical of, now that he looked back on it. 

He nodded slowly as he listened to the charges. He was still trying to figure out whom was in the right here. While the Red Wings masqueraded as a relief unit, there were a few protocols that seemed to be different or altered for their true form. He was not about to just out the Red Wings. There was some sensitive information that, if it got into the wrong hands, would be very troublesome. 

"I see." he said, watching the book. "I do not believe those claims to be true." he said. Whether he was bluffing or not was not exactly visible.

The cry of her rage. Her white knuckles gripping the blade. Blood. Blood, and then the sound of wet meat meeting the ground. Now spoilt, unproper.

The continuity of Kahn'a's consciousness was breaking. Dotted with suffering, this implacable hatred coming from the stomach, tensing the body with the acid it carried. There was also sorrow. Sorrow in a little boy stranded in his head, alone, terrified, wondering why he was hurt. And why he was hurt some more. The innocence of that child was waning, yet he was already not white. His hands were stained red. But he had faith. Faith in the world of man. He had been seduced by the distant radiant flame. He believed in its magical power. He approached it, slept under it, made it his... Until it licked his flesh burnt.

Gone like whispers uttered in the screaming winds, all feelings and thoughts left the Miqo'te's body to bow to the master of this new kingdom carved out in pain and blood. It bore many names, but the one pulsating in Kahn'a's mind was Chaos. A black, deep...

...

You know what? Nevermind. One, two, three, four...

...

A piercing scream of agony filled the room in an instant, leaving no ear spared. You thought weaved cloth, as thick as it was, could muffle the song of the dying? It might, in truth, but their words resonate in men's heart regardless, for they are universal. And like with any language of man, the only difference observed was the interpretation. For some, it meant an intense joy. The sound of victorious feet trampling over conquered ground. Rhythmed with the cadence of failing heartbeats, it was a fuel for them to keep going.

For others, it was the most frightening sound in existence. The vicious corner of dark imagination even paled next to it. Kahn'a was one of those people. And so, while he was being carved and salted, he felt sad over his bruised self. A maddening out of body experience, and yet he was still in there, tearing his lungs out from the burn of salt and exposed flesh. How could the chair remain so still, the young man was harming himself further trying to desperately break free.

Kahn'a became unaware of things, his eyes were clenched shut. Not that opening them would serve it good, he had blood all over his eyebrows, all pearled up from the shallow yet painful cuts. All he picked up that came not from his own body was a voice. A demonic voice. Ah, and a hand on his throat.

Then it went away. He was still alive.

Wheezing like a newborn, Miqo'te gasped for air, the necessary air that he could not refuse, and that kept him up for this lovely show of humanity. Could he speak? The answer to that hung in the air, his body was acting incoherently. Clenching jaw, creaking teeths, then wide open mouth for more air, and the sinister of clashing teeth to imprison his voice again. Just like that, Kahn'a became as much his own goaler as this demonic avatar, wrapped in warmth and alluring.

He wanted to speak, and wanted not.

...

Sorry. This is what the Keeper was trying to word through his struggling over air.

Titor's cell

Alec scribbled slowly as Titor, though Alec raised his eyebrows in a expression of interest at the words Titor spoke and he paused his writing as he fixed the Red Wing with his eyes.

"You believe they are innocent do you? Well if you are going to make a statement like that I am going to need you to support such a claim. What, during your time with the Red Wings, an organization that is supposed to have no combat oriented missions, is innocent of such claims?  You say they are responsible for none of them, yet we know for a fact that the Red Wings did harbor a terrorist. If we know that is true and yet you claim.it is not, can we really trust the weight in your words? In my mind you have already shattered your own credibility. It would be a shame to have to resort more base methods of interrogation when we are having such a plea sent conversation. So, for your own sake, please choose you next words carefully. How can you prove the Red Wings
 are innocent?"

Alec smiled as he twirled his pen through his fingers as he waited.

Kahn's Cell

Kresha looked at the ruined face that sputtered water and blood from his mouth. Kresha was being kind to Kahn'a. This was mild com paired to what she had done in the past but she was getting annoyed and even A'trus knew not to bother her when she was annoyed. A'trus didn't enjoy this sort of information gathering but understood its necessity and made sure Kresha had every thing she needed. She had rooms of tools and devices and had used everyone at least once.

The tall woman went and seized a bucket on her own and three the contents of the bucket at Kahn'a all at once. There was no towel and no slow pour. The wall of water would slam into kahn'a with a tremendous force and there was not fabric to keep the salt and water out if the fresh wounds. Not this time. Kresha then took the empty bucket and tipped it over Kahn A's head before the nodded to one of her men who wound back and drove his fist into the side of the bucket, knocking the bucket off Kahn'a's head. Kresha then turned and pulled out a wicked looking knife and twirled it through her fingers.

"I'm getting bored, Mr. od'hilkas. And when I am bored, I get creative. All this can stop though. Give me the location in Limsa the Red Wings would hid. We know you have a lot of contacts there. Where Mr. Od'hilkas! Or I cut off my pounds of flesh and drown them in salt water and then feed them too you."

A'trus' quarters

A'trus had fallen asleep in his tub and the water was cold by the time he awoke. The miqo'te quickly got out and dressed in a fresh uniform before he took his weapon and went to his office. He took a cleaning kit from his desk and began cleaning his firearm as he looked over his map, as if he stared hard enough, he would suddenly know where he needed to hunt next.

...N-no?

Teeth bared, head hung low, unsupported, the Red Wings Second could feel forces quitting him. Battered and dazed from the punch, he did not immediately realize that his fragile nose was bleeding. He made the mistake of breathing, and soon enough shook in convulsions, coughing the blood that tried to sneak its way into his lungs. Getting rid of it, through spasms and reflexes drained him out, and when he finally settled down, he could scarcely find the force or will to shut his mouth. The Hunter was ashamed to admit it, but he could not carry on much longer like this.

"Enough," he implored so very quietly in humid words. "I can't take this anymore." He was not far from the truth. Barely a few bells of that treatment, and his mind was all worn-out, fatigued, caressing the limits of sanity. His pulsating headache was making matters worse. He could have fainted had he let himself, but the promise of the Hyur would certainly be kept, she would not let go of him until she had her bone to bite.

"I-I apologize, I have not the means to answer your question. I handle men and supplies, I'm not told about which contact stands where. But I'll give you something. Something that I pray will make you understand that there are a great many things you do not see. But before... something for you to think over. If we had contacts in Limsa Lominsa, then how come the ambush we fell into was so effective? As much as you're making me hate it presently... I am a man of Ul'dah, I rarely leave these parts, and therefore know little of La Noscea and its surroundings. But my instructions were to assist with the safekeeping of the carriage, despite not having prior knowledge of the field."

Rolling his head as if it weighed its bulk in gold, Kahn'a angled himself so that he could meet her gaze. It was much easier to believe in the sincerity of words that way. "You'll know this already if you possess a clearance. The Red Wings... we're no relief unit. It's a lousy cover that few bother scratching at. The Captain never spoke the legal words, but the way I understand our mission, we handle tasks that the Flames cannot, for they are bound to respect the law." Kahn'a nodded weakly, "This is what we are. Keep that in mind, but see the veil of confusion lifted for the points that made little sense until then."

And then he carried on, explaining the mission for the second time, with as many details as he could recall. They had been reached with blank orders coming from the Hall, urging them to escort sensitive material and weapons to the town of Limsa Lominsa, for an exchange with the Maelstrom. Kahn'a assumed that whoever had set up this ambush had much to gain from sparks of arguments within the Eorzean alliance, and he told her that. "Our dire lack of preparation and the urgency of the orders eventually lead to the failure of the mission. We regrouped to the Drydocks in Moraby Bay for a debriefing, this is when the Captain decided to take the road. He... he asked us to fan out, we would be contacted once everybody was safe for further instructions. That was when I returned to Ul'dah and got rid of my pearl. He had chosen to run, and I could not follow that call. But I would not abandon them either. So I skulked around the city, trying to find any information, any rumour of somebody who could profit of our demise. After a fruitless fortnight of searching, I decided to drag attention to myself, became bolder with whoever I spoke with, and this in order to have you come pick me up. There was no doubt we were hunted then. Shortly after I adopted this new behaviour, your sniper found me, and I took precautions to protect myself, while meaning to establish a contact with the Flames. With you."

Kahn'a coughed again. He knew his limbs should not have felt this weak, but the exhaustion of his mind had somehow plagued his body as well. "On Her name," he begged, "I swear that this is all I know. Have men sent to the Drydocks, if you so fancy, but I doubt there's aught to be found, most of us were trained to leave no trace, since we do not officially exist as anything but an unimportant relief unit.

Titor's eyes narrowed in thought a bit. He thought back of his whole time there, all of it. The more he thought, the more his own suspicions arose, the more things began to click into place. There were some strangely strong ties between the Red Wings and Garlemald. Sure they had been under the attack by the Empire multiple times, and Titor had witnessed such shootings and assassination attempts, not to mention the time when loyalists to the Empire had broken into their own base. 

He was wondering if this was just a clever plot by Erik, whose own involvement in the Empire's progress might be as a double agent in the Flames. Maybe the time that the Garleans had broken into their base was a clever plot to exchange information, a way to make them look like the bad guys to the rest of the unit, allowing Erik to deceive those who followed him. 

The workings around the Red Wings were relaxed. Too relaxed. Way too relaxed for comfort. The more he thought, the more his face furrowed. He had been taught to not talk in the face of the enemy? What about when he may have turned out to be the enemy. He took short slow breaths as his mind worked overtime to try to calculate the right outcome. Were the Red Wings right? Were they wrong? Who was to be trusted? 

He wanted to do what was best for Ul'dah. But what if neither of them were in the wrong? What if both of them were? He had not enough information to make a proper choice in the matter, and just kind of stared up at Alec. 

Remember your training, Titor.




...there was no training for this.


His training had been against clear enemies of the state. Garleans, beastmen, in the event he would be captured and be facing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, someone he should never talk to anything about. If he spoke here, he could possibly betray the Red Wings, who may be the enemy. If he remained silent, he could possibly betray Ul'dah, and Her People, and everything he fought for.

Titor's mouth was slightly agape as his mind ran infinite permutations of calculations using the data he had. Every one yielded a different result.

"....I do not know." He squeaked, more as a response to his mind's own questions, and to a lesser extent a response to Alec.

Commander Ryder approached the Black Chain's HQ, his uniform telling of his rank, the mid-level officer's Blacks as apposed to the junior officer's Brown such as what Captain Mynhier wore. As he entered he awaited to be met. As one of their clerks passed they stopped and saluted, "May I help you sir?" The dark haired midlander crossed his arms behind his back and clasped his hands together after returning the salute, "I wish to speak with your commanding officer."

Titor's Cell

"You don't know?" Alec cooed softly and gave a disapproving look.  "Well, that just won't do at all.  We need more than that I'm afraid and you going from claiming you could prove it to suddenly not knowing is confusing.  Could cause us to wonder if you are holding your tongue and if we need to loosen it.  Should I fetch the tongue loosener?"

Kahn'a's cell

Kresha listened, her eyes hard and her face covered in a scowl.  She held the expression well, and it don't not slip or become lax, even though she wanted to raise her eyebrows in surprise.  She did -not- posses the clearance about Red Wings' true nature.  Even A'trus was unaware of the full extent of the Red Wings clandestine nature. That was a clearance far higher in the chain of command than they possessed.  The female interrogator slowed her breathing as Kahn'a elaborated, spilling out tons of information at an astonishing rate.  Like a bucket placed beneath a waterfall, there was simply to much for her to absorb it all.

Her knife spun in her fingers slowly at first but grew faster as she thought and then finally she stopped spinning as she licked her lips.

"Very well.  Mr. Od'hilkas, you finally were co-operative.  See, I knew there was more than you were telling." Kresha's voice became a soft purr.  "You have earned a reprieve, I'm going to alert my superior and we are going to investigate the Drydocks.  If they find anything, splendid for you.  If not, we will resume your breaking, only it will be far, far more severe.  This was me being civil." Kresha smirked darkly.  "But if we find something, you might even get your clothes back.  I'll consider feeding you in the mean time.  So sit tight, be a good boy, and wait a bit. I have another guest to greet."

Kresha then spun on her heel and walked out, leaving the three men to follow after her and lock the door behidn them, leaving Kahn'a wrapped in the embrace of darkness.

Kresha stormed to her room and found a pearl from her desk.  Her room was lavish and full of a ridiculous amount of finery and red silk.  Kresha loved the sensation of silk on her skin but right then she didn't notice it as she pressed the pearl to her ear.

"Lieutenant A'trus."

It took A'trus a moment to reply and when he did so, his voice was slow and tired.

"Proceed Kresha." 

"Lieutenant, I have discovered some unsettling news."  Kresha said and then continued quickly.  "The Red Wings are not a relief unit, they are a special forces unit.  They were given a mission and claim to be set up. No matter how much I...questioned, that never changed.  Od'hilkas says that the last time he saw his unit was at the Moraby Drydocks near Limsa and that if we needed a lead for the Red Wings that might have fled to Limsa, such as Melkire, that would be the place to start.

Silence greeted this information as A'trus sat up in his chair and seized a document.  He read it over and then chewed on his lower lip.

"There is no mention of the Red Wings being anything more than a relief unit, or a mission to Limsa in my intel or orders.  I find it-"

"Sir, I bleed and salted Od'hilkas.  I broke him down.  I think there is a shred of truth in this.  I've done this for seventeen years sir."  Kresha interrupted.  A'trus leaned back in his chair and continued chewing on his lip.

"You are certain of this intel?"  A'trus questioned coldly, not wanting to play with the line of thought Kresha was forcing him to consider.

"Sir, I stake my reputation on it.  These Red Wings may be guilty as all sins in the hells, in fact, I suspect they are of guilty of these charges to a degree, but I think someone is also playing us.  The fact that whoever sent you those orders sent us against a Black Ops unit without notifying you or me is a breach of protocol."

A'trus scowled and nodded.  After a moment he stood up and then smashed his fist onto the table.

"Sons of couerls!"  A'trus swore as he watched two of his sniper rounds roll onto the floor.  "The twins got killed, had I known. . ."  The miqo'te was growling.  "Kresha, continue questioning.  Increase the intensity.  I want information.  And I want it now.  I'm going to be gathering a unit to depart for Limsa immediately once I get clearance from Command.  Report once you have more information."

Kresha paused, recalling her promised reprieve to Kahn'a and decided to give the male a few hours of peace before she began carrying out A'trus' orders.

"Aye Aye, sir." Kresha answered at last.

A'trus let the line go silent as he seized his rifle and slung it over his shoulder as he muttered a string of curses at the Twelve for this sudden development.  He had denounced their divine nature four years ago with the death of his wife and now only prayed to his deceased lover and her memory as if she was a divine angel. 

The male miqo'te went to the door to his room and threw it opened as he stormed into the hall, closing it behind him with a bang.  Sergeant Rungee was there and fell into step quickly after he saw the expression his commanding officer wore.

"Orders sir." Rungee said quickly, knowing now was not the time for formalities.

"I need the Zulu primed for a trip to Limsa immediately, Sergeant." A'trus said, his voice calming slightly as the walk leveled his blood pressure as they turned a corner and headed to the front of the Black Chain's HQ.  "We may have a lead there and I intend to investigate it further.  Also, I want every one of our soldiers invovled with the Red Wing hunt lethally armed and armored.  There is a possibility the Red Wings are more than a simple relief unit."

"As you say sir." Rungee nodded, keeping his reaction to A'trus' words to himself.  A'trus loved Rungee for that professionalism. 

The two walked into the central room and both came to a screeching halt as their boots snagged the marble floor as they caught sight of the man standing there.  A commander none-the-less.  Both snapped sharp salutes.

"Good day sir!"  Both men said to the commander and waited for him to speak and return their salutes.

Titor shook his head, breaking his gaze away. He was not sure where his loyalty lie anymore. He knew of the corruption in the Flames, and Ul'dah in general. Not all members of the Flames were honorable. Many were greedy, corrupt. He was not sure what team he was on anymore.

The Wings had taken him in, brought him back in after his honorable discharge. They gave him his life back, gave him a hook and a recommendation to get back to his life after he found a way to manage his illness. 

He looked up at the face of his captors, and he saw the face of the Garleans that had captured him nearly a year prior. All of what he had went through there came flooding back, and his face made every bit of that visible. He zoned out, tried disconnecting from the world. Ignore it all and it will all go away. 

There is no solution to this.

Show a guy some respect, will ya, buddy?

Sieg sighed at the birds continued violation of his head.

That aint to make a nest out of, ya know.

Sieg listened as Clio explained the reason for her tension.  He gave a half grin and a small nod, willing to accept that, not overly concerned that she avoided his question.

Hmm, no, can't say, I do know.  I haven't actually ran and hid from anything.  Don't get me wrong.  This aint some tough guy act.  It's just the way things have gone.  This here is all pretty new to me.  Anyroad, it's fine if ya don't wanna talk about it.  Just checkin up on a comerad is all.  I won't push a lady to give what she doesn't want to.

He let it go at that.  His intentions were true.  He wasn't asking with an ulterior motive.  Even if he had planned on pressing the issue, the next words she spoke quickly caught his interest.

Go on.  Ask whatever you like.

He took a few steps back as he replied.  Her next words put him on the spot.  He knew how best to deal with this situation.

Those weren't questions.  They were accusations.  And it seems you've done some digging indeed.  I guess it's pointless to dance around it.

He believed she knew too much for any denial to work.  No.  It was better to come clean.  At least, partially, and maintain a degree of trust.  Better to get her in the know, and find out where she stood. Then deal with it based on her response.

Alright then.  You're right.  I have practiced this salute, and a dozen others.  So much so that those that created the motions would look like they were out of practice.  I guess I got a little too good at it though, seeing how it raised suspicion.  I wasn't honest when I joined you folks.  I wasn't entirely dishonest either, though.  I ended up here for two reasons.  You know I sought you out specifically because an old buddy of mine is with the you all.  That much I told you back then.  Well, that's why I came to this group and not some other.  But that's for personal reasons.  I can give you my word on that, for all its worth.  Before that, I was looking for an in with the Flames.  Not to infiltrate their ranks, though, given recent events...

Sieg raised his arms and looked around as if to say "look at the situation we're in."

...I'd say it's not infiltrators we need to worry about.  Plenty enough problems on the inside.  Anyroad, I'm with the Flames to make myself an asset.  In hopes of gathering support for...well...nothing that you, or anyone in the group need to fear.  So if you were thinking I was up to no good, I'm gonna have to disappoint you.  There you have it.  I'm with the Flames to gather support, and I'm with you for personal reasons.  Outside of that, right now, I plan on doing whatever I can to see that as many of us get outta this alive as possible.

Sieg stood there, his experession calm, and posture casual.  He merely awaited her reply.

Raimy was cold. He hated the cold. Anywhere it can snow is nowhere Raimy ever wants to be. He'd found the chapel and would refused to give the letter to anyone other than the one instructed, as is typical of any good delivery boy. Delivering the letter to the Abbot was easy enough. It's what he does, he's a courier... was a courier he reminds himself. Now he's a Flame... where they do crazy stuff like redact people. He still can't wrap his mind around that and can't help but wonder how Titor fares, letting his mind wander from his task to his friend. He takes a deep breath as he tries to refocus on the job at hand but the air freezes in his lungs and doesn't help his focus much.

He bundles his coat up tighter and trudges through more snow. His weapons are hidden and he carries a satchel so to anyone else he still looks like just a courier on a job. At least in passing. He's never been just a courier, but the cover has always worked very well for him. No one has asked him his name yet, which is good. He hasn't made up a new even though Erik ordered him too. It was so hard to come up with Raimy Rouchet the first time. He hopes he'll be able to think of one before someone does something crazy like ask him his name.

Siha's face only reddened further and she jumped her purple eyes to Kiht, thankful that the male hadn't somehow ended up on the sharp end of a lance. She smiled tightly at the dark haired Keeper before looking back to the very animated and relaxed male, she didn't feel the same and she envied his ability to be so cool. Then again he wasn't being hunted down like a rabid animal. She willed herself to stay calm and the heat started to fade from her face...until he decided to throw out more flirty words and the flush creeped up her neck again. One day she'd have a handle on it, but her mind was fixed completely on what they needed to do and so she nodded to Kiht instead of acknowledging his compliments towards Cliodhna's...rear.

"W-Worry not Kiht. I won't let you walk in alone, you have my guidance every step of the way, as much as I can offer you. Anything you need from me that I can give I will for your assistance" she assured the woman with a nod and a set jaw. She tossed Youkio a look when he threw in his own hat and she even gave him a tight lipped smile, "The help is appreciated, so long as it is alright with C- Tempest. You are her contact after all" she added. After a deep breath she rubbed at a temple briefly and then dropped her hand first to the crystal around her neck and then to her side. "Right. We can discuss the finer details of the plan once we get back to wherever it is we'll be hiding...I believe you'd be our guide there?" she looked to Youkio again at the latter with a curious gaze.

Skittles curled into a ball to preen his tail. "ya ain't got nothin ta worry bout, just using ya till boss gets back." He replied around a beak-full of feathers. "I won't muss yer pretty hair."

Cliodhna nodded but refused to relax her stance. Words were cheap and easy to come by, but seeing his expression when she fist spoke showed in truth he had been caught off guard. Offering a soft sigh of mock frustration, Cliodhna continued to meet his gaze searching for any body language that would give Sieg away as being dishonest right now. Most people weren't aware but there were a common set of minor motions and twitches that people have a habit of doing when trying to lie.

Tilting her head, she crossed her arms. "Not to be rude, but I'm not concerned with your connection to Raimy at this point, i'm more curious about the apparent support you need." She paused as if remembering something. " You know a long time ago Ul'dah had tried to use lions as mounts for their Sultan Sworns but finding them to be too feral to break and train; released them out into the wild's of Thanalan. Are you perhaps trying to procure more lions? I've heard though rarely spotted, there are even a few Grey ones roaming about in South Thanalan...." She flashed Sieg another curve of her lips. Oh yes, she was aware of that as well.

"Look at me Seig, really look at me. I'm one of those people you're trying to help, so is Erik. We both miss Ala Mhigo..." She replied, dropping the playful attitude she had earlier slipped into. "If you're honestly wanting to help us all get out alive, truly and honestly, once this is all over and done with; Erik and I will offer what help we can with your cause, but you need to inform him why you really signed on and the goal you're trying to achieve."

Normally Cliodhna tried to keep her cards closer to her chest, but time was growing short she felt and didn't have much room to keep playing the cryptic game with him. It was only a matter of time before the keeper in question broke and while her pearl was off; Cliodhna couldn't keep tabs on that situation as well as she liked.

~~~

Youkio gave another chuckle, his voice bouncing off the cavern walls. "Oh man, I just love when people say "with respect" it's like it just gives 'em a pass to be as rude as they want without woryin bout pissin off the other person!" Shaking his head, he stopped and regarded Kiht. "Still, you're right, Tempest's kept me in the dark for mosta this an I had no clue how deep she was in. We gotta get back to em quick an figure out a plan to rescue and resolve this mess."

He glanced over at Miss Siha, pretty little thing....much too innocent for this sorta life, he mused. "Yah, I'll take ya'll there quick as can be, honestly we ain't far from it now....Tempest ain't gettin a choice, she knew if I found out what was really goin on I'd jump in an she contacted me anyway." He replied, his mouth set in a hard line.

"'Sides I'd take a wager ya'll can't really run in an outta the city like I can right now, so I'll be needed at least for that." Youkio stuffed his hands in the pockets of his kicks and started to lead them out of the cavern.