The Red Wings: Take Flight

[Titor]

It burned, everything burned. He already hated water, even more so when it was briny, and even more when it was assaulting all of his senses at once. His body tensed as he could not breathe, as his wounds were irritated in the worst possible way. Try as he might to keep his eyes closed behind the cloth, the water seeped its way in.

 

And the lack of oxygen was the topping, already lacking on the oxygen department due to his anemia, the sudden cutoff caused him an insurmountable amount of chest pain. His lungs were screaming, burning, begging for some of the air. None came.

 

Once the water stopped, his whole body was trembling, the blood soaking the cloth that clung so tightly to his face.

 

He had been screaming as best he could during the assault, though it mostly came out as gurgles. When he finally had enough calm to mutter out a word, he choked out "...why." 

 

They were making quite the convincing argument. He had a slight idea where some of the Wings would be.

 

He continued trembling violently, seeming to come from his very core.  He had to stay strong, for his Unit, for whom he thought had the best intent.

 

"... For coin and country." He whimpered pathetically, trying to keep some resolve but he was not going to be able to take much more. He felt his energy draining from him, seeping from him, much more of the deoxygenation and blood loss and he would soon be unconscious,

He welcomed it at this point. He wanted it. Nothing more than to lose consciousness.

[Erik Mynhier]

Erik ran toward his mount as he toward Erik. Swooping past Mikh'a, Erik grabbed the reins and swung into the saddle in a single motion, the bird never slowing his charge. Riding on to the guards Erik swung his axe low, striking with the flat of the blade. He reared as the chocobo turned sharp. He called as he rode hard toward Mikh'a now, "Dragon! Best follow if you wish to live!"

 

As he approached his soldier he reached out and caught him by the shirt and threw him behind the saddle as they rode out the gate, and into the blessed blizzard growing outside.

 

-------------------

 

Commander Ryder stood in the secure room, the entire membership of the Black Chains before him as he briefed them on the Red Wings, "And that boys and girls is the big bad secret of Ul'dah. These crazy bastards are near and dear to my crooked little heart, as they should be for your's. These poor misfits seem happiest when they are being shot or tortured. Now I don't give a hoot in the seven hells what these orders told them to do...." he said as he threw the copy of the Red Wings' orders on the table before him. "Those bastards saw what was before them and did what was asked, that's fine.... that's what soldiers do. But the rub of it is that those higher up from us knew better too.

 

He took a breath, looking at the locked faces around him, "Now as your commanding officer is fond of pointing out, the higher ranks love their politics. And he hit it on the nose. No Flame gets to the top by being stupid. These orders are shit and everyone knows it, but there are some who have wanted to do away with the Wings for one reason or another and these orders, their blatant stupidity ignored so that they could be the excuse needed to undo this group." Ryder sat now, "So here's what we are going to do. I'm going to use you fine upstanding men and women to help me find the prick that sent this shit ball down the hill."

 

He sighed, waving a hand. "Before I dismiss you lot, the Flame Hall is sending someone to pick up these two and get them out of my hands and your's. So patch them and pack them."

[Mikh'a]

[align=justify]Brynjar needed not to be told twice, though it was less because Erik had called to him, and more because the Highlander had scooped his cat up and tossed him on to the back of the bird... and well, you know, that was his cat. And so the drake turned after giving one final, rolling breath of fire out on to the remaining guards, and bound after Erik, Mikh'a, and their mount in to the steadily growing weather beyond the Observatory.

 

He was never coming to Coerthas again, bad things happened every time. Every. Freaking. Time.

 

Mikh'a turned his head though, looking over his shoulder as they sped past Nako'li through the snow. The Elezen body was moving in as they were heading out again and he squinted in the growing storm as the building and its fire faded in to the distance behind them. He could have swore-- but no. It had to have been a trick of the storm. He'd smelled like a Miqo'te as they passed but surely... surely not, he was an Elezen. "Erik!" he called over the howl of the storm as they dove deeper in to its icy grasp. "Were you able to get your transmission out?!" It wasn't what he wanted to ask though.

 

It wasn't even close to what he wanted to ask. There was a gnawing guilt that briefly held him back, and his ears pinned back as he tried to listen. Were there other footsteps following them, crunching in the snow? He was afraid to look back and see an army of Elezen chasing them. Brynjar was on their heels, this much he knew, but what about anyone else? "We have to go back to Thanalan!" he finally begged. "To intercept them before they find out where everyone else went!" As far as he was aware Siha, Cliodhna, and Sieghart had gone to the Shroud, and Osric, Jin, and A'laric had gone to Limsa while anyone else had been told to scatter in Thanalan. He was not aware that not only was the bulk of their broken little family unit in Limsa, but that the Black Chains were technically calling to turn in that direction. His gloved fingers curled in the fabric of Erik's robe and he finally swung his gaze around over his shoulder to search the swirling snow behind them for any sign of a pursuer. He just wanted to get on the Falcon and get back to Thanalan as fast as possible before anyone else was caught, and until then he'd childishly cling to the hope that nothing terrible had happened to Kahn'a.

 

If only Erik hadn't been so grim about it when he'd said something. If only Mikh'a wasn't aware that this was not the first time this had happened to Erik. If only...[/align]

[Askier]

A'trus and Rungee watched Ryder from the back of the room. Both had grumbled to one another and said their peace. The Black Chains were out of their hands at the moment. After the speech, the two left and strode quietly.through the Flame hall. At long last, Rungee looked at A'trus.

 

"Want a drink sir?"

 

"Gods yes." A'trus exclaimed with dry chuckle and two left.

 

The cell.

 

Kresha was about to scratch Titor's face again as the bloody towel came off when Alec slipped into the room and whispered something to her. The torture master paused, then.blinked in surprise. Then sighed and nodded as she lowered her hand.

 

"Get this one and Od'hilkas a Flame.uniform and take them to the hangar. They are going home."

 

With those words she left, leaving her soldiers to.carry out the orders. Two bells.later Kahn'a and Tutor would find themselves in.fresh uniforms standing in the hot hangar, their hands still bound behind their backs and sloppy bandaging covering their wounds as four guards stood around them with swords as they waited for the airship that would come and pick them up for transportation elsewhere.

[Titor]

Titor continued to be dazed as he was patched up and lead out. His wounds would still continue bleeding, but only be stopped or at least held back a bit by the bandaging. It was hard to get him to his feet as they walked, but he tried with every last bit of his resolve to walk on his own.

 

The tremoring still continued though, which shook his whole body every few moments. When he was brought to the same room as Kahn'a horrified to see they had received the same treatment. Looking up at him with his red, bloodshot eyes, Titor wanted to speak, but found no voice. It was too raw. 

 

They were going home. That was good, all he wanted to do was sleep. A few stray whimpers emitted from his throat subconsciously due to the residual burning and pain, not to mention the water that had found itself nestled into his lungs.

[Setras Kyvari]

A few suns of poking around Limsa had yielded less information than he had hoped. It was at times like this that he really wished that Vixen operated more locally. It would have saved him so much time and effort to have her ears in addition to his. But life was rarely so accommodating as to simply hand you what you needed.

 

Leaning back against the wall, A'laric idly exhaled a cloud of smoke and turned the situation over in his mind again. "I don't see how you can smoke those things. They're foul," A'lecae complained.

 

A little smirk curved A'laric's lips up before he turned his head to blow the next cloud of smoke in his cousin's direction, earning himself a scowl in response. Chuckling, he flicked the spent cigarette to the ground, grinding it beneath the heel of his boot. "So's that liquor you make." Dragging a hand through his hair, he let out a slow breath. "You're finished, I assume?"

 

Nodding, A'lecae offered him a small satchel. Glass clinked inside. "A few of my usual, and the new one that you wanted. Just be careful not to dose yourself with it."

 

"Antidotes?"

 

"The ones with the red tops counter the blue. Yellow tops counter the green. White tops counter violet. Grey tops counter black. Blue paralyzes, green causes hallucinations, black blinds. Violet is the new one."

 

Slinging the satchel over his shoulder, A'laric smirked. "Good to know." Pausing, his head tilted as the linkpearl in his ear crackled, the first activity he'd heard from it since this mess had started. He blinked before a slow grin slid over his face as he listened to Osric's transmission. "Well well.. Looks like you were just in time, Hunter. I have a starting point."

 

"You need me to shadow?"

 

"No, don't worry about it. From the sound, there'll be plenty of bodies involved this go around." Giving A'lecae a brief clap on the shoulder, he turned. Back to the Drydocks. And hopefully some answers.

[Siha]

As much as she wanted to be amused by Clio and Piper she just couldn't find the will to do it, instead her mind focused half on the conversation while the rest turned over her plans in her head. "Remember what the bandits used on us? Smoke bombs and grenades...explosions" she waved a hand, "What if we used a harmless version, smoke bombs and fireworks, it will make the Flames think someone is setting off bombs in the city but it will be safe. No one gets hurt and we get a window. I think bombs and the mention that it might be us would be enough to draw most if not all of the soldiers on duty" she explained. She winced at the end but only because it sounded much less grand now that she'd laid it out, "I'm fast enough, and I'm elusive enough I don't think they'd catch me...t-trust me" she wasn't going to let anyone else possibly get caught if it was her idea.

 

She was much swifter and slippery than most of the Wings knew, but it wasn't their fault, those traits had been gained from her upbringing and she didn't mention it often. There was no need, and only Erik and Titor knew much about it, the former because she'd felt it was only fair once she knew his past and the latter because he had seen it. Her brow furrowed as she thought of the pair of them, wondering where they were and if they were ok, it made her teeth sink into her lip and she closed her eyes for a moment to clear the worry. A deep breath later and another determined gleam in her eye had her looking back to Clio, "I think it would work. As for the pirates here...well if Youkio knows them he can set up a meeting if not...I'm sure we can draw them out. If they're professionals they can be hired, and if they can be hired they can be found one way or another."

 

She turned that over in her head as well, if the Flames were the ones that had hired the pirates in the first place it was possible they could use that. "It was two Lalafell and a Miqo'te actually. If Youkio can't set up the meeting, maybe we can find them another way, pass on our Flames Uniforms to Kiht and Youkio...hiding his face of course and send word through my contact here that the Flames are looking to hire their crew again since they're so satisfied with their work this time around...maybe..." she tapped her lip thoughtfully after finishing that one. It hinged on her contact actually knowing where they were which was dicey but if they frequented the decks of the city so casually they couldn't be too hard to find. Another nagging thought stuck in the back of her mind as well...what if they didn't attack them?

 

"Or...what if we make them come to us. It's dangerous because we'd have to hint that we were here but what if we spread the rumor that the Flames aren't satisfied...that they want their money back and that they're coming after that little- ahem, after the Captain and his crew. Maybe they'd actually be willing to give up their information if they thought they were being double crossed. Pirates are fickle that way...most pirates anyways..." she lifted her head again, surprised that she could think of more than one way to deal with them. "If we could get them on our side and find out what we need to know it would be more beneficial than simply knowing and we wouldn't have another enemy breathing down our neck, no extra, needless loss of life..."

[Erik Mynhier]

~A few hours before the prisoner transfer...~

 

The man in his quiet office, his projector showing him all, all but the Flame that had entered the room unnoticed. With a sudden sound the man turned to the Flame, large, even for a Hellsguard. The Roe smiled as the little man exhaled in relief, "You frightened me sir." The Roe moved to sit opposite the hyur at the desk, "Enjoying your toys I see." The little man sneered, "No that damn Ryder is ruining my fun. I was enjoying watching that cat be skinned..... but I am as always grateful you have gone so far to help me sir. People I shared my story with always thought me petty, but you have gone to such lengths to help me get back at them."

 

The Hellsguard stood, his massive form seemed to fill the very room, "Not at all Lieutenant, it was my pleasure. And as for petty... you applied to join them many times, sought to be made their second in command, your scores were academically higher then most of the Wings, your family connections and wealth has in your life gotten you everything you wanted.... except your chance to play a spy." The hyur looked confused, "Sir?" The huge Flame laughed, "Seven hells man.... its not just the petty wranglings of a spoiled rich boy.. its Sun-Bat shit crazy." The Roe began to laugh harder, supporting his large frame on the desk, the angry midlander stood up, "What are you saying!?! How dare you! With a word from my father yo....." he froze silent as the Roe stopped laughing and was in a split second in his face, his massive hand on the man's face, lifting him in the air.

 

"You see, this... this right here is why you were never put in the Wings. That ego of your's wouldn't work in that unit. That Captain may have a good rep as a gentleman, but I have read reports of how his temper can get away from him." The little man's muffled screams pleaded for mercy. The larger Flame spoke softly, "Now, now, here you though you the mastermind, and just a pawn. Such a sad day for you. I would assume with that brain of your's you would have caught on when ol'Ryder said he was going to hunt the guy behind this. Now we gave you this tech to play with, but we can't let your ego get you caught by that old fox and have him follow the trail to me and my superiors, or twelve forbid, the Prince himself." As the roe began to squeeze the hyur flailed, "No little man, there will be no glory for you. You will be found murdered in an alley, you must have gotten drunk and pissed off an handsome roe." As he laughed at his own humor, the little man stopped flailing and grew still.

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

~The Present - The Hanger~

 

As the captives and their handlers waited in the wide and hot hanger, there approached a Hellsguard Flame, and his men, "Ah.... the legendary Red Wings. I am sorry to meet you like this. I was often impressed by your exploits, a shame really. Anyway... I am Flame Captain Steel River. And though you are to be my prisoners, you will find it a lighter experience to what you have seen up to this point."

[Cliodhna Eoghan]

Cliodhna leveled her gaze on Kiht, letting go of Youkio's ear in the process. "It seems this was an inside job as much as I hate to say it...The Flames our Captain has devoted so much of his life to seem to have turned against us. The bridge was for all intensive purposes, a set up, but the way the orders were given; we were unable to refuse them so now we're here...Hiding like wharf rats as they pick off our numbers." She explained, hint of venom in her voice. "I know the Captain won't take this lying down but he also knows I won't run and hide like he's told us. So as of right now, our only lead is the Pirate crew that carried out the botched mission for the set up. He must have sent us our way knowing you'll be willing to help as well." Cliodhna replied, letting a soft curve of her lips slip by.

 

Tilting her head to the side, she paused and listened to Siha with a slight quirk of her brow. This was the first time Cliodhna had heard the small Keeper talk as much as she had...and the ideas; they weren't bad. Any of them. When Siha had first insisted on going with her, Cliodhna had just assumed it was because of that injury and was only wanting to try and watch over here. Good intentions aside; She figured most of the time on the run would be spent just keeping her alive but this, this was an interesting surprise for Cliodhna. She was finally starting to see why Erik adopted her as a sister.

 

Her brows knitted at that comment. "It was? Right, I'm having trouble recalling details from the bridge it seems." She replied simply at the correction. "You have brought up some good points as well. Youkio might not be the best for a direct approach; if he has such a...unique history with them, they won't take his words at face value with the mention of another job. However; he will be useful to point out the group to Kiht who would be all the more convincing if she has the uniform and proper sealed paperwork." At these words, Cliodhna held up her hand for Siha to see Erik's Flame signet ring on her thumb. "She's also the only one they haven't seen from either this job or before."

 

"We write up a false paper stating they're in need of another job but need to meet in person. In the meantime, we use your contact Siha and anyone Youkio can dredge up to spread just enough word that it's actually a plot to wipe them out in one hit." She paused, biting her bottom lip in thought. "We then find the Pirate crew...or at least the captain and tell them we've also caught wind of the supposed threat via Kiht here and in exchange for information; we get rid of the group sent out to take them out and any paperwork stating their involvement, thus keeping them safe to continue pirating with one less target on their back. Siha this other contact you have, can they help us with either this step or acquiring the needed fireworks and smoke bombs for later?"

 

She paused, it wasn't a strong plan but it was all they had at the moment. "We'll rest a bit for now in shifts then set this into motion as soon as possible....I'll take first watch."

[Aduu Avagnar]

Nako was coming up to the edge of the Observatorium when a Chocobo carrying a Highlander and a Miqo'te sped past him. As he glanced at him, a trill sounded from his visor and runes flashed across his vision. "Aetherial Match". Swearing, he took off away from the buildings following the path he had made through the snow, allowing him a quicker retreat than his inbound journey.

They were mounted, he wasn't. He could track them easily enough through the blizzard with his visor, but if they kept at the speed they were going at then he wasn't going to catch up with them. All he could do was give chase. So he did, letting the Glamour coating him drop as he reverted back to his Miqo'te body. The best he could hope for was Erik turning back and recognising him.

[Kahnopy]

Itchy.

 

The bound Miqo'te struck the floor with the heel his boot, half believing he would cast the awful sensation away. But like a leech, it lingered, unimpressed, carrying on with its slow and lazy feast. Kahn'a could not help but wonder if that was what the victims of his hunts felt as their flesh were exposed, deprived of their smooth coil. He also wondered what was to happen to the little stripes of him he was leaving behind. With a disturbed interest, he had looked at them. Such a waste, he had thought, the harvest had been performed by a novice hand, and thus was no durable material to be created out of such an ugly dejection.

 

So itchy.

 

Roughly shoved into a uniform, and cotton applied on where the flesh was most exposed, Kahn'a was being lead to believe that fortune had finally chosen to grace him. All he could really do was believe indeed, not a soul had pronounced a word since the mistress of the domain had turned away and left. Along the corridor he was taking, he stumbled. He nary had space to take balanced steps, his escort was tight. And soon enough, he could taste the burnt air of Thalanan, and like a warm embrace, Kahn'a welcomed it. His senses were timidly coming back to him, they had crawled deep into his being, as if seeking shelter.

 

A sniff of the air taught him what he needed to know, a look with his eyes confirmed and settled that perception into reality. So, the good doctor had been caught too. Before he could linger, the Miqo'te averted his eyes. He felt unsurprised at the pitiful state the Hyur was in. In fact, a tiny part of him was even relieved. Misery loves company, was that how it went? Not entirely. The Keeper was also glad that he had not been stranded once again. That very fear was irrational, and come to think of it, childish even. But like a steel hand it had gripped Kahn'a, trying to squeeze the possibility that in order to save their skin, The Red Wings would leave him and anyone caught behind. He would still be battling with that demon, had it not be for the frustrated look on the soldiers' face. Obviously, something had happened that did not please them.

 

And soon he understood.

 

The massive Roegadyn man was towering over them, doing his introductions. There was... something oddly creepy in his behaviour. His words, his detachment. His smooth manners. Was this the face of a man who had seen too many winters donning the same official garb? Has he grown accustomed to that kind of occurrence... that kind of mistake? This was a face that called for many questions, but Kahn'a kept them quiet, before everything, he simply wanted out, and if complying in silence meant he would see his stay shortened, then so be it.

[Knight Kat]

Kiht resisted the urge to let out a sigh. By now, she was sure she appeared very stoic to them, but she hardly knew any of them, and did not even know Siha all that well. Still, she was resolved to help. Kahn'a and Erik she knew really well, and her mind was even on that bearded Hyur. She was not going to let any of them down.

 

However, she knew why she was never a Grand Company spy. Holy Hells their plans got complicated fast. Kiht's brain was already starting to hurt. They wanted her to do what??

 

Great, I get to dress as an Immortal Flamer. Kiht thought sarcastically to herself. However, it sounded like they needed her for the role, so she was going to go along with it.

 

She would rather have something to scout or spear, but huzzah for new experiences. "Very well. Sounds like a plan." She said in a clear tone. She would need some time to process and think about everything said.

 

Kiht found the closest wall, and began to lean on it. She gazed upon Siha, and wondered if little disciple of magic could truly be fast and agile enough to flee from Immortal Flames pursuers. Would she have the stamina? Sure Siha was a Keeper, but one who looked a little more... Bookish.

 

Kiht took a deep breath then let out an exhale. If Siha says she can do it, Kiht would not be the one to try to convince her otherwise. The following events as they executed the plan was going to be interesting.

[Siha]

~~~Next Day~~~

 

Siha had been confident enough that she could go into the city for now, she'd taken extra steps to actually cover herself this time. She'd tucked her hair under her turban securely and made sure the dark leather of the mask reached the tip of her nose, her dock working clothes getting yet another use. It was even more appropriate considering where she had gone and where she was now coming from, her first and priority visit had been her father, he could help them with whatever they'd need and she'd told Clio as much the night before. Before they rested, though it was a mostly restless night for the Keeper herself, sleep hadn't been easy to capture while she lay there and went over their plans.

 

Yuzu'ya had been more than happy to help them, guaranteeing that he'd be able to get his hands on fireworks, smokebombs, and even some weapons though she'd fought about the latter with him briefly. He'd still insisted and so they'd have their selection of actual explosives and other more practical weapons should they need or want them. After that he'd dispersed the masses with instructions (all 11 of them), find the Jolly Rogers and indirectly let them overhear that the Flames were hunting them down for more work and with the comfort that he'd be watching for Kiht and keeping her safe. Just in case things went bad.

 

Her own part was small for now technically, until they started moving and she moved along the docks discreetly, shouldering a fishing pole and sack as she passed the Fisher's guild. It would be a good reason to head to where they were hiding without suspicion and she made sure to tip her pole at the guards as she passed. She'd had to leave Kiht in Clio's capable hands for the meeting with her father but she was sure the Keeper woman could handle it, no matter how she felt about the plans themselves. She'd been rather mum about it all last night.

[Erik Mynhier]

The blizzard was a blessing of the Fury he thought as he slowed his chocobo to a trot. The weather was enough of a barrier, at least all they would need. Less then a malm from the Observatory he drew a second closed circuit pearl from his bag, this one was one way and sent a very simple signal, a series of beeps. The only pearl in Eorzea that could pick up the signal was the one in Montblanc's head. Erik sighed in relief, looking back to check Mikh'a and to see if he had been followed, "Did you survive? If so congratulations on your first successful mission." He dismounted his bird and stood trying to spy the sky through wind and snow. He looked over to Mikh'a again, "I managed to get a communication to Commander Ryder. He is going to try and see after Kahn'a..... and Titor too it seems. But he still wants us to keep a low profile until this is sorted. He of course knows we will not. There seem to be forces at work against us more then we thought."

[Mikh'a]

[align=justify]Mikh'a swung his body off of the chocobo as he came to a stop, though he near immediately regretted it. Snow up to his knees, guh. The small Miqo'te internally cursed the twelve and the unjust height they'd cursed him with while looking back to his captain. "Yeah." he said and he sniffed at the air. "Yeah I survived it." This time. Though now that they were far enough away and the rush was starting to wear off the poor boy was shaking - thankfully it could be mistaken for the temperature. He felt dizzy from the rush of it all, and the boy lifted his hand to his forehead while scenting the air. "The mission isn't successful yet though, we're not home, and our names aren't cleared."

 

Erik was still talking. There were still things being said, and if he weren't already cold he'd have had that same sense of ice water filling his blood when Titor's name was dropped as well. How? Why? What were they doing to get caught? Why hadn't they kept their heads low? He vaguely remembered Kahn'a saying something, something about Ul'dah and contacts and a mission that he had to do for Erik. The thought crossed his mind, had Kahn'a been caught on purpose? Had Titor? Was this all part of their captain's elaborate plan to clear their names? Those big pink eyes shifted to look at Erik as he scanned the sky through the storm though as he went to open his mouth he felt a scaly head bump his fingers. Startled, Mikh'a lowered his gaze and set his hand to rest on the drake's head. "Brynjar..." he said quietly, then gave him a pat. "It's okay buddy... we're going home soon..."

 

Mikh'a's heart ached. It was suddenly harder to hold out hope that Kahn'a was being treated to tea and a quiet chat about the Red Wings with Brynjar's appearance. It was just a sorry reminder that Ragnar had said the same thing Kahn'a had. Don't worry. Everything will be fine. "We're going to keep a low profile... and save our men, right?" he questioned Erik though the answer was obvious. The boy nodded his head when Erik confirmed the statement and took a deep breath. "I'll do whatever it takes to get this over with, and clear our names."

 

He scented the air, then whipped his head around. There it was again, carried on the wind. This time it was stronger and no less unrecognizable as the not!Elezen that had been stalking in to the observatory as they were fleeing. He was close by and the boy defensively bared his fangs. The timing was too convenient with what Erik had just said and he was not without caution as he took a step forward, though Brynjar firmly planted his weight between the approaching Nako'li, his charge, and the captain. ( The bird too. ) "Who goes there?" Mikh'a called, grateful for the conjury Siha had taught him as he'd left his book on the ship with Montblanc for the sake of the role Erik had tasked him with.[/align]

[Aduu Avagnar]

As Nako'li stalked through the darkness and flurry of the blizzard, the triple light of his Visor scanned left and right as he approached the small mismatched group. He was thankful for the scarf and heavy coat, the blizzard was unexpected, but it was fortuitous. It meant that there was very little chance of the Ishgardians following behind him. the wind whipped at the corners of the red coat, making the vials rattle slightly, a sound that would be muffled by the blizzard.

 

'Who goes there?'. Mikh'a's voice carried across the wind to Nako's ears, which twitched when they picked it up, though the sound was dulled. He'd been noticed at least. He waited till he was closer and was sure that his voice would be picked up. "Relax, I'm a friend, and besides, if I wanted to harm you, I would have done so already." His visor scanned over the group, bookmarking the Aetheric Signature of the Miqo'te and flashing a confirmation message when it scanned over Erik. Just the two of them.

 

"Where are the others? well, beyond Khan'a and Titor that is, I know well where they are."

[Gegenji]

Red today? Or perhaps blue? Oh, a lovely shade of violet might be nice as well, perhaps with frosted tips.

 

The morning found Hohoyoho reclining lazily in his chair, a finger entwined around a lock of jet black hair thoughtfully. It was naturally white as snow, but the Lalafellan Ringmaster had early on developed a love of dyes and flitting from style to style. Sometimes it was to fit a role or character, other times it was simply due to a whim that had struck him. He had even gone so far as to procure a Mammet that was designed solely to fulfill the role of his personal aethestician, lest he spend an untold more amount of gil and time travelling to and from the barber's chair. He kept the little automaton, whom he had named Seville, dressed almost as fabulously as himself.

 

Even now, the little Mammet waited patiently at his side, holding up an ornate box that held his other decision to make for the day. The other, lesser part of the genetic bargain was his Twelves-be-damned eyes - which were a pale gray, though they too changed color depending on the lighting. Green, blue, red, violet; no matter the color, they still suffered a horrible astigmatism that made the amusing world around him fade into an indistinct fog. His solution was an interesting, yet pricey one - thin lenses of ice crystal, shaped just so as to be set into his eyes and bring his stages and his audiences back into sharp focus. The fact that they could also come in a variety of colors was just another bonus.

 

Ah, but what eyes should I wear? If I go with the violet, perhaps a nice golden hue - I haven't worn those nearly enough, and it is quite the fetching combination on Jugs...

 

A knock at his door roused the ringleader-cum-pirate from his aesthetic musings. By the knock code, it was involving the latter half of his livelihood, which brought a slight upward tug to his lips. Another special performance, and so soon? This might be an interesting day indeed.

 

With a practiced hand, Hohoyoho took a pair of lenses from the proffered box and slipped them over his eyes. The heavy haze in his vision cleared as those dull blue eyes turned a brilliant silver. A bit of a snap decision, but silver always went so well with the darker dyes. Seville obediently snapped the gilded case shut once his master's choice had been made and tucked it away safely within his elegant doublet. Another wave of the hand sent the little Mammet to his little hidden cabinet within the Lalafell's desk to await his next calling.

 

A true performer never explains his tricks, after all...

 

"Enter."

 

The door creaked open, letting in the noise from outside. Even this early in the day, the Stage Left was bursting with life and action, for there were many preparations to be made before first showing. It certainly was enough of a din to make eavesdropping difficult, if one were to dare put an ear to the Captain's door, and the heavy make and exacting fit of it made such a prospect even more challenging. An added effect was that the room fell back into muted silence once that portal clicked shut again. At least, it would have been silent.

 

With an energetic hum and a bounding here and there, a female Lalafell done up in reds and blacks and bells and tresses approached the desk. With a jingle and a jangle, she leapt and somersaulted onto the desk, scattering papers to and fro with her one-footed landing. With a spin and a pose, she held out a hand to her employer, her painted face split wide in a smile. Harlili Harli was here.

 

"Allo, Boss," the still quite tribal Lalafell trilled in greeting. Teaching her proper Eorzean had been quite the task, though her skill and energy were quite worth the often odd accent she spoke in. "We goht us a bite, we does."

 

"Oh? Go on then, my Laughing Rina," Distractin' responded, sliding easily into his other role as a sword did into a well-oiled scabbard. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and steepling his fingers. The mess of papers didn't bother him overly much - it was all there to look important and little more. Besides, he so loved a good entrance.

 

"Blokes wot say dere Flames, lookin' fer another show," Harli-now-Laffy explained, dramatically shifting into an over-exaggerated thinking pose. "Whispered 'n nudged all 'round, it wos."

 

"And nothing at the drop point?"

 

"Nae."

 

The wry grin on the Cap'n's face stretched into a Cheshire smile.

 

"Well well, I think I may know just who it is, then." The silver-eyed Lalafell settled back in his seat, resting his hands lightly on his stomach. He canted his head to one side before continuing. "The audience seeks an encore, and the Cap'n is nothing if not obliging."

 

Now it was Laffy's turn to smile; a wild, vicious and toothy smile.

 

"Wot we do, den?"

 

"Oblige them, of course!" Distractin' responded grandiosely, spreading his hands wide. "Whisper and nudge them in kind, and tell them to meet us at, oh, someplace nice at Candlekeep Quay for drinks, let's say. And let us see which members of the audience step up to the stage... and what sort of extras they bring."

 

"'n th' Rogers?"

 

Cap'n Distractin' folded his hands neatly behind his head.

 

"Tell them to prepare for a show."

[Erik Mynhier]

Captain River and his men took the prisoners in a covered wagon far to the north of the city eventually out of Central Thanalan, to a secured building north of Bluefog. The building itself seemed unremarkable but had in the past seen much history. Once the cart entered a garage, the door shut behind it and the two men were led out of the cart, through a door and into what seemed to be a nice inn room. "Now I want you both to again understand that you are of course prisoners until these charges can be investigated, however...." he waved his han, causing his soldiers to unshackle them, "You are officers of the Immortal Flames until we are told otherwise. And that constitutes curtain privileges. You must remain here in this room, there is a washroom with facilities, and we can bring you whatever you like to eat."

[Kahnopy]

Resistance was futile. That is not true, Kahn'a thought, but in the very least he conceded to follow the mountain of a man without making a rukus. It was certainly a much more preferable fate than to be slashed and scorched after all. But even then, as fancy and comfortable as it looked, a cage remained a cage, and the hunter longed for more. He complied to the orders of River's men, making it unnecessary for them to maintain their tight escort. Without a word, he followed the Roegadyn to the inn room, and listened to what he had to say. No complaint, no request, no sound in fact. Everything was concealed deep within himself. With eyes devoid of will, he watched the company exiting the place.

 

It was then, and only then than the spark of life got inspired into his body again. At first he simply snapped his eyes about, acquainting himself with his new shared cell. Yes, yes, no doubt would a prolonged stay here be much more enjoyable, but there was no place with cushions deep enough to smother him and his guilt. Then Kahn'a moved towards a low-table. A fine work of carpentry, officers really were pampered in the Flames, even in detention. Without ceremony, Kahn'a dropped the hat and gloves that were not his on the table. He breathed out, fatigue creeping back on him now that he was granted some peace of mind. What was going to happen now? Information had been spilled, they would certainly be making moves upon it. Their investigation, as they called it. However, there was no telling how long it could take, and the Keeper knew it in himself: he would turn mad before seeing the end of it if he remained here while his comrades were out there, probably unaware that the Immortal Flames now had the slightest of leads on them.

 

Loyalty.

 

Kahn'a smirked pitiful and cast a look at the other person present in the room. Titor Jaraba. By the looks of it, he had been messed up badly as well. Had he spoken too? What did he tell them? Those were questions pounding against Kahn'a's teeth, but there was an odd comfort in silence. He simply laid his eyes on the Hyur, and he felt like he understood him. No words were needed for that. Was this the defeat of loyalty? Or...was there any to begin with?

 

Before his mind could sink in dark patterns, the Miqo'te paced around the room, inspecting the furniture, the accommodations. He looked thoroughly at the furniture, but saw no furniture. The table turned into a temporary wall to hide behind, under enemy fire. The rug could serve to make men trip if it was pulled from under their feet with enough force. And the chairs were no more than planks with four sticks he could use to bludgeon his way out. He stopped in his tracks and stared longly at the chair.

 

"Have you spoken?" his broken voice then suddenly asked.

 

Slowly, he shifted on his feet to put the Hyur in his sight again. Expecting an answer, he stood there, while that little mind of his was already busy weaving a plan for his escape.

[Mikh'a]

[align=justify]"Friend is a bold word right now." Mikh'a accused as he looked Nako'li over through the raging storm. Using his goggles to keep out the weather was pointless, they were frosted over and would only hinder his sight even more at this rate. The small Miqo'te eventually did lift his hand however to steady Brynjar who looked ready to pounce and tear Nako'li limb from limb. The drake made a disappointed gesture and bumped his head in to the staying hand that held him back before settling with just lowering his head to peer out from behind Mikh'a at the man in question instead.

 

Go ahead cat. I dare you.

 

It was the question about the others, and the following admission of knowledge regarding Kahn'a and Titor that caused Mikh'a to bristle though and the growl started low in his throat. "Where are they? What's happening?" He shouldn't have asked, he wanted to continue to cling to that slim hope that everything was fine, but he had to know. He was still on the defensive, and it was obvious he hadn't answered Nako'li's own question on purpose. Like hells he was going to up and tell a complete strange where the rest of his broken little family had scattered to. ( Sure they had incorrect information as they were under the impression three of them had gone to the Shroud, but that wasn't the point. ) The man had a lot to prove, especially if Erik didn't speak up in his favor.[/align]

[Cliodhna Eoghan]

Youkio rushed back to his small shack on the river's edge. His long legs feeling fully stretched for the first time in a long while. Though his news was important, it felt nice to run, to feel the winds comb through his hair, the slight ache reminding him muscles were there, it all felt exhilarating.

 

He broke into a grin and keep running full speed until he neared the house. Slowing to a jog, he absentmindedly gave Pepper a quick pat on the side as she shuffled around the yard. He had asked about hitching the bird, but Tempest insisted against it and so far the chocobo had made no move to leave and even let Skittles snuggle on her back where the saddle usually was.

 

Upon Youkio's return, Skittles moved from chocobo to Youkio, settling on his head; fluffing up his feathers with an all over shiver as he landed. "What's with ta excitement, ey?" The pink bird cawed.

 

"Somthin big, seems talk's been goin round and we got us a meetin." Youkio replied to his friend. Though this wasn't the only reason for his excitement truth be told. He had a small plan of his own, one that Youkio hoped to place into effect shortly.

 

Cliodhna re-read the parchment, her jade eyes scanning the lines quickly. Forging documents were not new to her, but that didn't stop her from double and triple checking the contents to ensure it sounded correct in linguistics regarding the supposed sender and overall look of the document. Half the work had been easy enough thanks to proper planning; the few blank papers she grabbed from Erik's desk with the generic Flame Hall letterhead and swiping his ring were both in foresight for just this sort of occasion. The exact details of the letter mattered little, it simply stated that they were displeased with the events on the bridge and that a demand for the money was to be made and given to the Flame Currier that was in possession of the letter with a minor few backhanded death threats tossed in; all mimicking the written mannerism of a Flame personal. Near the bottom it was left blank save for a short statement saying the recipient should already be aware of the sender's identity.

 

After folding the letter carefully, she applied the wax and pressed the seal firmly into the puddle as Youkio burst into the door. "Somethin up, Piper?" She asked, not looking up from the newly formed seal; the edges crisply outling the scales that was the Flames' insignia.

 

"Yeah, we got ourselves a meetin! Overheard it down at back part of Hawker's alley, we got a bite and a meetin's bein set up over 'round Candlekeep for a sit down chat an some drinks." He replied, bouncing from foot to foot; tail swaying.

 

"Sit down Piper, you're actin like ya got fleas." Cliodhna replied as she carefully tucked the letter in the pocket of her Flame coat. She was close enough to Khit in size that it should fit her alright but it wouldn't be a tailored cut appearance-wise like it was on herself.

 

"Can't help it, I wanna help an get Geruda back." Piper sighed over exaggeratedly and swung a free chair around; straddling it with his chin on the top of the backrest.

 

"Piper.....how much do you owe them?" She asked, glancing up at him for the first time since he entered the room.

 

Frowning, Youkio looked at the floor, grinding the toe of his boot in a circle. " Nuff an I'm leavin it at that." He mumbled, his secret hope of them offing the group in one sweep dashed as Tempest brought up the payment arrangement.

 

"Three thousand, ta dummy owes em three thousand gil. It ain't worth that much if ya ask me but he insists on buyin it back." Skittles pipped up, already swooping out of hitting distance and landing on a nearby exposed support cross beam for the roof.

 

"Damnit all, keep yer beak shut!" Youkio grolwed but it was more subdued than before. He just didn't have the heart to start up an argument when he was right; it had been stupid to try and gamble that much and had he been more sober, Youkio would have known something wasn't right when the bet was offered. This issue with Tempest aside and all; Youkio hadn't thought too poorly of the Lala, he did offer to let him buy Geruda back after all...it's just would have been a much shorter time if he could actually use her for his real job. This washing dishes thing was giving too little over too long of time.

 

Cliodhna sighed, that was a hefty fee for someone and Youkio's current income level made it worse from the sounds of it. Stretching, she leaned back in the chair, languidly enjoying the feeling of her spine popping before wincing slightly and sitting forewords quickly. The tale-end of the stretch pulling the muscles under that stupid wound expectantly. During her part of the watch; she had tried to treat it again best she could but it was getting worse. The medical salve she had just wasn't doing much by this point and any sort of healing magic was out of the question. Once this was all over, she had to find a proper doctor of some persuasion to take a look at it, but that was of course provided they all survived this little adventure.

 

As far as Youkio's bill, she remained silent on it; already aware he wouldn't take money from her if she offered but something had to be done. If the meeting went as planned, perhaps a rework of his deal with the pirate captain could be made. The only thing left for them now was to gather up and head towards Candlekeep Quey, hopefully gathering Osric and the others in hiding at Limsa in the process for added support before leaving La Noscea and heading back to Thanalan.

[Knight Kat]

Kiht hadn't prepared for the meeting with Siha to turn into a stay at a shack. That meant during the course of the day, when it was her time to rest, she had removed her cloak and armor. She only wore her shirt and leather pants as she rested.

 

She took cat-naps at various intervals when she was not keeping watch. Not because she was Miqo'te, but because she was nocturnal, and not in sync with the sleeping schedules of the others. She had spent some time polishing her guisarme and knives, eating some of Youkio's food, and wondering where the talking bird was from so she could go and find one of her own. Aside form that, Kiht was bored.

 

However, Kiht did not complain. Irregular sleep and waiting patiently was something she was use to. When Youkio arrived and talked with Tempest, Kiht noticed the Immortal Flames coat she stuck the letter in. She let out a quiet sigh. That coat was going to be a bit big; hopefully not too big to the point where it ruined the disguise.

 

Kiht did not regard the two much, but she kept her ears up and listening to them. She had an apple stuck on the tip of her hunting knife, and continued to bite on it. But the time for her to put on a 'show' was nearing.... She was not planning to tell them how bad at lying she was...

[Erik Mynhier]

Erik nodded to Nako'li, "It has been to long." he said as he continued to watch the sky for his ship, "What do you know of my men?" Turning to hear the answer he placed a hand on Mikh'a's shoulder, letting him know it was alright.

 

----------------------

 

Captain River paced in his office, Ryder was to be a bigger pain then he had thought. Though he had captive his pawns, Ryder was using his well known pension for being a pain in the ass. River had thought him out of the way, the clinking Black Chains around his neck. But that pain of a commander had done something unexpected. He and the Chains had vanished, like Leviathan diving out of sight into the sea. They would emerge when most deadly. Something had to be done. He tapped a crystal box on his desk and then touched his pearl, "Ready the device. We must expedite our plan."

[Kahnopy]

We can make this work, Kahn'a thought to himself.

 

The room was filled with a great silence. Had they spoken to each other? What did they learn from the exchange of words? Whatever came to pass in the intimacy of the room, it had not brightened the mood, not lifted the spirits high, not soothed the concern. The reality of a struggle for survival dawned on Kahn'a as time passed by. Odd moment to feel that way, there, in the safety and comfort of a place most would have gladly spent the rest of their existence, but the Miqo'te's instincts kept ringing the bell of doubt in his ears. They had been saved from The Black Chains, yes, but something else was in the works, something he could not grasp but only feel.

 

The contemplation of twilight before fell the cruel night and rose the Pale; an omen not to be overlooked. It was enough of a bell spent confined between those walls for Kahn'a to discover all he could use and to make his preparations.

 

"I do this for the right reasons," he threw in the air, feeling scrutinising eyes on him. It sounded very much like the confession of a criminal caught red-handed. The irony of the thought tore a smile from the Keeper. Oh, what crude contraptions was he resorted to, when deprived of the safety of distance. Elegance mattered not, however, only the success.

 

[align=center]~~[/align]

 

A guard with a stern and suspicious expression stood before the door. On the flat of his palm was a plate of some fine dish, the mere sight was enough to upset his very empty stomach. There was nothing edible to buy around but disgusting porridge, and it was still infinitely better than the rations his unit could grant him. So to have fine cuisine delivered to some captive Lieutenant, understand how upsetting it was to the foot soldier.

 

"...Your Captain urged us to speak up should we need aught," a low and rough voice had explained through the wooden panel, answering the simple soldier's doubt. "So shall you bring us those plates?"

 

He grabbed the handle of the door, grumbling. He had had little choice but to comply, he wanted no attention from Captain River, none at all. But still, what would he do to get just a bite of that food...or the other. Of course there was another plate. A plate that had yet to be brought back there. Oddly, that second dish took much longer to arrange, so it had been decided between the two guards that they would carry each a plate. The soldier grumbled, because he knew this was just a dirty excuse for his comrade to beg for food to the cook, and probably see his modest request satisfied.

 

"Stand back, I'm opening the door!" he warned, pinched with annoyance, and then he gave a turn of the key slotted in its lock.

 

The first thing he noticed as he stepped in was the presence of only one of the two prisoners. The Hyur was in sight, but not he other one... There was also a noise in the background. Yes the soldier could hear running water. For a fatal instant, barely two steps into the confinement room, he relaxed and motioned at the origin of the noise, a room with showers separated by thin walls.

 

"Is the other...?"

 

But he would never learn the answer to his unfinished question, for suddenly, a great force oppressed his shoulders and his head. It was like the alluring call of gravity, inviting him to meet the floor with the violence of lightning. The poor man scarcely had time to blink that his legs lost their balance and he fell down, dropping the plate in a surprised gasp. And as if it was not enough, he was swiftly robbed of his consciousness, struck with something very hard on his head. Something, or rather someone had dropped on him.

 

A wooden stick met the floor too, near him. It was one of the foot of a chair. A pale hand reached at a piece of meat in its pool of sauce spilled unceremoniously on the ground, right next to the soldier's face. It brought the chunk to an equally as pale mouth. Kahn'a took a much needed bite, before kneeling down next to the unconscious guard, and his hands slithered on the uniform.

 

Some Gil, a shortsword, yes that would do. The Keeper smirked victoriously, he could not deny that getting the drop on that poor man had been exciting. But he wasted nothing more than a look at him, before turning once again to Titor.

 

"It worked, the second one is still busy. Now, I give you the luxury of choice, you may remain collared here..."

 

This was it. The dice had been cast, it was now time to move, time to disappear from sight, but most importantly time to pursue hope, that fragile thing.

 

"...But I will not. I chose them."

 

And in a blink of the eye, he was gone.

 

[align=center]~~[/align]

 

Kahn'a took time to assess his surroundings. Quite a few bells had passed, and the Shroud was in his reach. He had done all he could to traverse the land as discretly as possible. Come to think of it, the only risk he has taken on the way was back in Highbridge, where he snuck into a house to...attire himself more approprietely. An Immortal Flame uniform would not have not crossed Wellwick Wood without notice, so he improvised. Thick and heavy cloth now draped his potent body, giving him a much more unassuming appearance.

 

But as he passed through Quarrymill, he had felt his heart skip a beat. There was a smell, a smell he was not completely foreign to; somebody he knew was near. Taking a seat on his bench a little out of the way, Kahn'a removed the wooden mask from his face to better look at the passers-by. Amongst one of them was a soul that bore more knowledge of his position that he had thought would be possible, given the haste of his move.

[Siha]

Siha swept into the house, already pulling her mask from her face and dropping the sack as well as the pole she'd grabbed in a corner. She'd heard on her way up and a smile lit her face, so they were going to meet with them, it was better than no bite at all. Perhaps the Flames had paid them so well they were ready for more...but...she frowned for a moment, clearing her throat, and fixing a light smile back to her face. No, she would make sure they were cautious, they wouldn't get too comfortable and fail. Not this time. This pirate crew owed them more than one life back at this point, they owed them all of their lives back and she planned to collect she simply had to stay confident that they could.

 

The house seemed already abuzz with activity and judging by the shouts she'd caught outside she surmised that they had already heard. "You've heard then? I caught wind myself when I took a detour..." she turned violet eyes to Kiht and gave her a reassuring look before she disappeared into the back room and went to root around in a bag she'd snapped up this morning. In it were extra sets of clothes and plenty of them, she took some time to sift through them while she let silence linger. She wasn't sure exactly what she should contribute but when nothing more was said she twisted to glance over her shoulder. "I don't think Kiht should go alone, even if Youkio doesn't go down with her someone should...if I need to get a couple of contacts to pose as footsoldiers to her I will. They wouldn't mind. As for those left over they've agreed to set up around the place and keep an eye on our...adversaries."