~ 1 Year Later ~
North Thanalan could be cold at times, this was one of those times. Two boys entered the Flames' encampment, long black cloaks shielding from the downpour, hoods hiding their faces. They moved like spirits, little sound from the one carrying a lance on his back, its blade panted black as to not reflect light. The other made no sound, the sword and shield beneath his cloak noticed by none but the oldest soldiers, their ears trained to hear the sounds of weapons. Gliding through the camp, they came to a stop outside of one tent. Pausing at the entrance of the tent like specters of death, they looked about at the soldiers of the camp, all eyes upon them. They dismissed the attention and entered.
Inside the tent it was warm and dry. The coat hooks by the entrance found use as they removed their cloaks and hung them. Erik and Cian stood regarding the Garlean that had been captured, bound to a chair. Cian unrolled their "tools" on the table and walked to the man, "Listen friend, I'm going to ask you a few questions and if I don't like what I hear my friend here is going to peal you like an onion. He has this rep too as a nice guy, but man he is an artist at torture." The Garlean looked nervously at Erik now, his shagged hair dipping over his eyes, but not enough to hide the stone face below, those cold eyes, as he took a tool from the table, pliers.
Three hours passed before the two hooded boys left the tent, soldiers on orders rushing past them to see to the prisoner, though there was little left to deal with. As promised, it was a butchery on the level of an art. The two approached the camp commander, notably not saluting, "Lieutenant, we are as you know agents of the Watch. I am Ghost, and this is my partner Storm. We would depart to you relevant intelligence to you then return to give our full report to our commander." The officer nodded and listened to the details, "Thank you gentlemen. This information will save lives."
As they walked back they were silent, they were often silent after such missions. Cian could no longer stand it, "By the twelve. Will you please say something!" Erik looked at him as he walked, "What would you have me say?" Cian shook his head, "Anything. Talk about your woman, or what you want to eat when we get home, or hells let's try and hatch a plan to catch Juliette in the baths. Just say anything." Erik lifted his eyebrow to the last part, then chased the thought from his mind. "Anything? Well.... what about... "And the ice covered the land, and Her Fury was cruel but righteous. Her spears three Her might, Her shield to defend the weak...." Scripture the whole way home?" Cian covered his face, often he couldn't tell if his friend kidding or not.
North Thanalan could be cold at times, this was one of those times. Two boys entered the Flames' encampment, long black cloaks shielding from the downpour, hoods hiding their faces. They moved like spirits, little sound from the one carrying a lance on his back, its blade panted black as to not reflect light. The other made no sound, the sword and shield beneath his cloak noticed by none but the oldest soldiers, their ears trained to hear the sounds of weapons. Gliding through the camp, they came to a stop outside of one tent. Pausing at the entrance of the tent like specters of death, they looked about at the soldiers of the camp, all eyes upon them. They dismissed the attention and entered.
Inside the tent it was warm and dry. The coat hooks by the entrance found use as they removed their cloaks and hung them. Erik and Cian stood regarding the Garlean that had been captured, bound to a chair. Cian unrolled their "tools" on the table and walked to the man, "Listen friend, I'm going to ask you a few questions and if I don't like what I hear my friend here is going to peal you like an onion. He has this rep too as a nice guy, but man he is an artist at torture." The Garlean looked nervously at Erik now, his shagged hair dipping over his eyes, but not enough to hide the stone face below, those cold eyes, as he took a tool from the table, pliers.
Three hours passed before the two hooded boys left the tent, soldiers on orders rushing past them to see to the prisoner, though there was little left to deal with. As promised, it was a butchery on the level of an art. The two approached the camp commander, notably not saluting, "Lieutenant, we are as you know agents of the Watch. I am Ghost, and this is my partner Storm. We would depart to you relevant intelligence to you then return to give our full report to our commander." The officer nodded and listened to the details, "Thank you gentlemen. This information will save lives."
As they walked back they were silent, they were often silent after such missions. Cian could no longer stand it, "By the twelve. Will you please say something!" Erik looked at him as he walked, "What would you have me say?" Cian shook his head, "Anything. Talk about your woman, or what you want to eat when we get home, or hells let's try and hatch a plan to catch Juliette in the baths. Just say anything." Erik lifted his eyebrow to the last part, then chased the thought from his mind. "Anything? Well.... what about... "And the ice covered the land, and Her Fury was cruel but righteous. Her spears three Her might, Her shield to defend the weak...." Scripture the whole way home?" Cian covered his face, often he couldn't tell if his friend kidding or not.
![[Image: Emblem%252520by%252520Rhea%252520Zaheela%252520x50.png]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5YSh8yMniHU/VlLStr_7SSI/AAAAAAAAIQ4/qLoOmtz-Jdg/s100-Ic42/Emblem%252520by%252520Rhea%252520Zaheela%252520x50.png)
