"Roen? Are you there?"
When Coatleque’s voice came through on sergeant Melkire's linkpearl, it gave Roen pause. After their last conversation, where they had parted ways knowing each supported two opposing sides, she had not expected to hear from the Sultansworn again. So it was with a measure of wariness that she answered. "Ser Crofte."
"Roen. I am glad to hear you are still safe. I must needs have words with you, in private. It is about Taeros."
"Still safe?†That only served to alarm her further, and yet Coatleque was reaching out to her. Perhaps this was a warning. There was something else in her voice. “...Are you alright?"
"Yes, I am fine. For now. I... wish I could explain but I do not trust any linkpearls. Can...can we meet?"
"Did he--†Sudden anger fueled the paladin’s words. She remembered the bruises on the Sworn’s neck, and the look of fear that was in Coatleque’s green eyes when she confided in Roen what had happened between her and Taeros. “Alright. Aye. We should talk in person. I…I cannot at this moment. But I can arrange to meet you. In three suns? Will you be alright till then?"
"...Three suns. Aye, I will be alright. What port are you nearest to? Thanalan may not be safe...I had thought the lighthouse where we met before."
"Aye. I remember the Lighthouse. I can be there." There was something off about the woman’s tone, her voice. Perhaps her friend was in danger, despite what Roen had told herself all this time about the Sworn’s strength and capabilities. "Coatleque. Stay safe."
"Safe...yes." She sounded strained; of that Roen was certain. "At the Lighthouse. That was where you first trusted me with the evidence to clear your name. I think...it will be fitting. Please, be careful."
Fitting? Even those words were not quite right. That exchange had not been at the Lighthouse. The evidence was given to Coatleque by Hornet. Perhaps she should have seen the warning signs. But the paladin let her worries for her friend push all other questions away. She would find out soon enough.
"I will see you then."
The dark clouds above scurried along the breadth of the sky, pushed along by the whistling winds that warned of a pending storm. Roen approached the Lighthouse with due caution.
Ser Crofte stood there waiting in front of the small cabin nearby, fully armored from head to toe in dark bronze. She was out of her usual Sultansworn regalia and her grim expression mirrored the foreboding skies above.
"That is a new look for you,†Roen came to a stop few yalms away from her.
"Necessary for La Noscea,†the Sultansworn replied without emotion in her voice, her gaze fixed on the horizon. Her arms remained crossed. "Surprised you came."
"I did not know that the warehouse affair still hung over your head here." Roen maintained a careful tone, although her eyes narrowed at the woman’s distant demeanor. "I thought you might be in danger from Taeros. You mentioned him."
"I did."
The paladin shifted uneasily in her stance, her hair being haphazardly tossed to the side as the winds around them grew stronger. "So what is this all about Coatleque? Did he hurt you again?"
Ser Crofte shook her head. "My hand has been forced, Roen."
"What are you talking about?"
"Nero seeks blood. A war perhaps. For the good of all, I cannot allow it."
"He..." Roen averted her gaze. "He has given up." She could not keep the shame from her tone nor the disgust from curling her lips. “He is actually no longer interested in saving Ul'dah."
"Saving? You think all this is saving Ul'dah? From what exactly?â€
Before Roen could answer, the cabin door behind the Sultansworn burst open and two mercenaries rushed out, weapons drawn. Seeing that Ser Crofte made no move--she stood still as stone, not reacting at all--Roen’s hand went to her sword. “What is this?!â€
“Tash, get an arm,†the tall Highlander male said to his female partner as they slipped to either side of Roen, flanking her with a quickness that belied their armored forms.
“Questions later.†The mercenary woman grinned with her fists raised, brass knuckles adorning both. “Yer comin’ with us.â€
Roen glanced to both of them giving them a quick once over, they wore no insignia of the Flames or the Sultansworn order. She squinted against the heavy raindrops that began to fall from the black sky.
"I am sorry, Roen...I did not want it to come to this." Ser Crofte said just over the howling winds, her arms still crossed.
The larger Highlander male tried to grab an arm just as Crofte spoke, but Roen jerked away from his grip. She turned on instinct, and swung a fist at the woman--one called Tash--who was also stepping in. Tash ducked away from her blow, backing up again. Roen took the opportunity to draw her sword, swinging it in a wide arc just to keep the Highlander male at bay.
“Shit! Blade!†The male backed up away from the edge of her sword, but reached for the axe that hung from his back.
“Whoa-ho, she feisty, Morn!†Tash side stepped towards Roen’s back. "You really wanna do this, bitch? There three of us an' one of you."
“Don't make this get messy. This is a fuckin' arrest,†Morn sneered.
Another whisper of sliding steel made Roen shoot a glance at Ser Crofte. The Sworn was drawing her sword as well.
"This is an arrest? Are these Sworns? Flames?" Roen shouted to Crofte. The paladin knew that could have lunged at the woman with the brass knuckles, perhaps get in a strike, open a path for a hasty retreat. And yet...
If they were Flames or Sworn, if this was an arrest, could she truly cut down enforcers of the law?
A part of her knew this day would come someday. What would she do? Hesitation leadened her limbs.
“We're mercs," the woman growled. "What, you too good for a bounty? Fuck off, princess. Drop the damn sword."
"Roen Deneith, under authority of Her Grace Nanamo Ul'Namo, I hereby place you under arrest for abetting a pirate, murderer, and enemy of Thanalan." Ser Crofte stepped closer to her, her blade in hand.
Morn used just that moment to swing his axe in a wide arc, hooking the paladin’s sword. It pulled on her arm for an instant, opening her one side, just before Roen relinquished the hold on her sword. A part of her knew she could not swing it against those upholding the law--even if they were mere bounty-hunters. I brought this bounty on my own head.
As soon as she half turned to look to the mercenary’s partner, she saw Tash rushing in--too late, and both the women went tumbling to the ground. Reflexively Roen threw an elbow to the woman’s face. She heard the woman's nose break with an audible pop, but despite the blow, the Highlander woman was working to pin the paladin down.
Morn slapped his steel-shod boot down on Roen’s sword hand--and the paladin gasped in pain as she heard a crack of bone. The paladin struck the woman on top of her with the flat of her other palm, but before she could try and get Tash off her torso, Morn’s axe swung down again and stopped just with its edge against her throat.
"Submit, bitch!"
Roen stopped all movement, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Tash, ignoring the blood flowing from her nose, pinned her other hand to the muddied ground. Once she stopped struggling, Morn wrenched both her arms behind her back and hauled her up back to her feet, dragging her bodily into the cabin they had rushed out of.
Once inside, the Highalander male slammed her back to the ground, the impact jarring her senses. He immobilized her with his full weight on her back awhile searching her thoroughly. Tash yanked off her coat, and then her boots, patting and shaking them down for weapons before tossing them to the side. Morn pulled off her belt and pouches, then plucked out a pearl from her ear. The mercenaries knew what to look for. Roen did not feel the wet touch of the cold stone against her stinging cheek as she glared up at Crofte. The Sultansworn was looking at anything but her.
"I trusted you," Roen rasped, voice shaking. "I thought you were in danger." Crofte did not answer, nor did she meet her gaze. The only answer the paladin got was a painful twist of her arms by the Highlander on top of her.
“Here are your crystals,†the Sworn said in a neutral tone, handing small aetheryte crystals to the two mercenaries. "They take you back to Ul'dah. From there you know where to deliver her for your pay."
“Deliver me…†the paladin’s eyes widened. “You are bringing me to…Taeros?!†She began to struggle against the firm hold. “This is not even an arrest! Coatleque, do not do thi--†The rest of her words were choked off when Tash stuffed wad of bandages into her mouth then tied it shut with another long piece of cloth.
Panic began to rise within her, a flash flood of dread. Roen felt her arms being wrenched tightly behind her, and felt the all-too familiar sensation of bindings constricted around her wrist then arms. The fear twisted in her stomach. No...!
She thrashed and let out another muffled cry before a full helm was placed over her head and everything turned to darkness.
When Coatleque’s voice came through on sergeant Melkire's linkpearl, it gave Roen pause. After their last conversation, where they had parted ways knowing each supported two opposing sides, she had not expected to hear from the Sultansworn again. So it was with a measure of wariness that she answered. "Ser Crofte."
"Roen. I am glad to hear you are still safe. I must needs have words with you, in private. It is about Taeros."
"Still safe?†That only served to alarm her further, and yet Coatleque was reaching out to her. Perhaps this was a warning. There was something else in her voice. “...Are you alright?"
"Yes, I am fine. For now. I... wish I could explain but I do not trust any linkpearls. Can...can we meet?"
"Did he--†Sudden anger fueled the paladin’s words. She remembered the bruises on the Sworn’s neck, and the look of fear that was in Coatleque’s green eyes when she confided in Roen what had happened between her and Taeros. “Alright. Aye. We should talk in person. I…I cannot at this moment. But I can arrange to meet you. In three suns? Will you be alright till then?"
"...Three suns. Aye, I will be alright. What port are you nearest to? Thanalan may not be safe...I had thought the lighthouse where we met before."
"Aye. I remember the Lighthouse. I can be there." There was something off about the woman’s tone, her voice. Perhaps her friend was in danger, despite what Roen had told herself all this time about the Sworn’s strength and capabilities. "Coatleque. Stay safe."
"Safe...yes." She sounded strained; of that Roen was certain. "At the Lighthouse. That was where you first trusted me with the evidence to clear your name. I think...it will be fitting. Please, be careful."
Fitting? Even those words were not quite right. That exchange had not been at the Lighthouse. The evidence was given to Coatleque by Hornet. Perhaps she should have seen the warning signs. But the paladin let her worries for her friend push all other questions away. She would find out soon enough.
"I will see you then."
~
The dark clouds above scurried along the breadth of the sky, pushed along by the whistling winds that warned of a pending storm. Roen approached the Lighthouse with due caution.
Ser Crofte stood there waiting in front of the small cabin nearby, fully armored from head to toe in dark bronze. She was out of her usual Sultansworn regalia and her grim expression mirrored the foreboding skies above.
"That is a new look for you,†Roen came to a stop few yalms away from her.
"Necessary for La Noscea,†the Sultansworn replied without emotion in her voice, her gaze fixed on the horizon. Her arms remained crossed. "Surprised you came."
"I did not know that the warehouse affair still hung over your head here." Roen maintained a careful tone, although her eyes narrowed at the woman’s distant demeanor. "I thought you might be in danger from Taeros. You mentioned him."
"I did."
The paladin shifted uneasily in her stance, her hair being haphazardly tossed to the side as the winds around them grew stronger. "So what is this all about Coatleque? Did he hurt you again?"
Ser Crofte shook her head. "My hand has been forced, Roen."
"What are you talking about?"
"Nero seeks blood. A war perhaps. For the good of all, I cannot allow it."
"He..." Roen averted her gaze. "He has given up." She could not keep the shame from her tone nor the disgust from curling her lips. “He is actually no longer interested in saving Ul'dah."
"Saving? You think all this is saving Ul'dah? From what exactly?â€
Before Roen could answer, the cabin door behind the Sultansworn burst open and two mercenaries rushed out, weapons drawn. Seeing that Ser Crofte made no move--she stood still as stone, not reacting at all--Roen’s hand went to her sword. “What is this?!â€
“Tash, get an arm,†the tall Highlander male said to his female partner as they slipped to either side of Roen, flanking her with a quickness that belied their armored forms.
“Questions later.†The mercenary woman grinned with her fists raised, brass knuckles adorning both. “Yer comin’ with us.â€
Roen glanced to both of them giving them a quick once over, they wore no insignia of the Flames or the Sultansworn order. She squinted against the heavy raindrops that began to fall from the black sky.
"I am sorry, Roen...I did not want it to come to this." Ser Crofte said just over the howling winds, her arms still crossed.
The larger Highlander male tried to grab an arm just as Crofte spoke, but Roen jerked away from his grip. She turned on instinct, and swung a fist at the woman--one called Tash--who was also stepping in. Tash ducked away from her blow, backing up again. Roen took the opportunity to draw her sword, swinging it in a wide arc just to keep the Highlander male at bay.
“Shit! Blade!†The male backed up away from the edge of her sword, but reached for the axe that hung from his back.
“Whoa-ho, she feisty, Morn!†Tash side stepped towards Roen’s back. "You really wanna do this, bitch? There three of us an' one of you."
“Don't make this get messy. This is a fuckin' arrest,†Morn sneered.
Another whisper of sliding steel made Roen shoot a glance at Ser Crofte. The Sworn was drawing her sword as well.
"This is an arrest? Are these Sworns? Flames?" Roen shouted to Crofte. The paladin knew that could have lunged at the woman with the brass knuckles, perhaps get in a strike, open a path for a hasty retreat. And yet...
If they were Flames or Sworn, if this was an arrest, could she truly cut down enforcers of the law?
A part of her knew this day would come someday. What would she do? Hesitation leadened her limbs.
“We're mercs," the woman growled. "What, you too good for a bounty? Fuck off, princess. Drop the damn sword."
"Roen Deneith, under authority of Her Grace Nanamo Ul'Namo, I hereby place you under arrest for abetting a pirate, murderer, and enemy of Thanalan." Ser Crofte stepped closer to her, her blade in hand.
Morn used just that moment to swing his axe in a wide arc, hooking the paladin’s sword. It pulled on her arm for an instant, opening her one side, just before Roen relinquished the hold on her sword. A part of her knew she could not swing it against those upholding the law--even if they were mere bounty-hunters. I brought this bounty on my own head.
As soon as she half turned to look to the mercenary’s partner, she saw Tash rushing in--too late, and both the women went tumbling to the ground. Reflexively Roen threw an elbow to the woman’s face. She heard the woman's nose break with an audible pop, but despite the blow, the Highlander woman was working to pin the paladin down.
Morn slapped his steel-shod boot down on Roen’s sword hand--and the paladin gasped in pain as she heard a crack of bone. The paladin struck the woman on top of her with the flat of her other palm, but before she could try and get Tash off her torso, Morn’s axe swung down again and stopped just with its edge against her throat.
"Submit, bitch!"
Roen stopped all movement, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. Tash, ignoring the blood flowing from her nose, pinned her other hand to the muddied ground. Once she stopped struggling, Morn wrenched both her arms behind her back and hauled her up back to her feet, dragging her bodily into the cabin they had rushed out of.
Once inside, the Highalander male slammed her back to the ground, the impact jarring her senses. He immobilized her with his full weight on her back awhile searching her thoroughly. Tash yanked off her coat, and then her boots, patting and shaking them down for weapons before tossing them to the side. Morn pulled off her belt and pouches, then plucked out a pearl from her ear. The mercenaries knew what to look for. Roen did not feel the wet touch of the cold stone against her stinging cheek as she glared up at Crofte. The Sultansworn was looking at anything but her.
"I trusted you," Roen rasped, voice shaking. "I thought you were in danger." Crofte did not answer, nor did she meet her gaze. The only answer the paladin got was a painful twist of her arms by the Highlander on top of her.
“Here are your crystals,†the Sworn said in a neutral tone, handing small aetheryte crystals to the two mercenaries. "They take you back to Ul'dah. From there you know where to deliver her for your pay."
“Deliver me…†the paladin’s eyes widened. “You are bringing me to…Taeros?!†She began to struggle against the firm hold. “This is not even an arrest! Coatleque, do not do thi--†The rest of her words were choked off when Tash stuffed wad of bandages into her mouth then tied it shut with another long piece of cloth.
Panic began to rise within her, a flash flood of dread. Roen felt her arms being wrenched tightly behind her, and felt the all-too familiar sensation of bindings constricted around her wrist then arms. The fear twisted in her stomach. No...!
She thrashed and let out another muffled cry before a full helm was placed over her head and everything turned to darkness.
