It was quite unusual, really, to see a new recruit peer into the High Commander's office. For one, he wasn't summoned, and secondly, the High Commander wasn't there. One would think it a miracle.

The others, however, would think it is a curse.

"Any word?" A sergeant asked the new recruit. The younger one shrugged. "No. None at all. We tried to look into his home, but it was locked and looked abandoned."

The sergeant frowned. "This is bad, with the city as it is... Five days, isn't it?"

"Been five days sir." The new recruit said with a knowing look in his eye. "Don't get me wrong; Lord Evaristus is a good leader, but I prefer it this way. More freedom, I think."

"Hmph." The sergeant grumbled. "It won't be fun, when there's a riot. I can just feel it in my bones. Just you wait."

There was a sound of footsteps, and a sick, sick sound of something metal being shoved into something it never belonged.

"Oh, you are feeling it." The new recruit hissed and withdrew his sword from the man's ribcage. "Right there."

Gagging, the sergeant fell to the floor, blood staining the wood red. A direct hit to the heart, he stood no chance at all.

"Are we ready?" A voice asked, as First Lieutenant Kierav came into view.

"Oh yes." The new recruit said. "I AM glad the Commander isn't here."

"We wouldn't be going ahead with this otherwise." Kierav replied. "Begin the operation."

---

One word. Hysteria.

A message was delievered to select captains and lieutenants.

Commence the operation.

At once, the officers gave the order to draw swords as they turned on their superiors; those not in the party, and slew them where they stood. After which they went on to pillaging, killing and burning the nearest poor soul.

The city was divided. One faction dedicated to the defense of the city, the other, to overthrow the king, and make history as we know it.

((I am taking some liberties here. But its ok, I am an Overlord, I can do these things :P))
The gods, Valandil decided had the ultimate form of perverse pleasure. Or maybe Valandil was just too much of a cynic. Both were really possibilities. As he stalked the burning streets of the East Quarter, he was acutely aware of the seven men who moved behind him. Soldiers of House Ghayth they followed Valandil swiftly and easily, looking for the entire world like common peasants rather than the crack troops that they were. His mistress had sent him here, along with this little squad to stir up disruption and contention in the Capitol of Olencia. He had enough gold to encourage Crime Lords to become bolder, slave rings to kidnap all people they could, and to bribe those who needed to be silenced.

All in all it was the kind of mission that Valandil Shadowdeath was born to do. With a smile, Valandil watched the people riot. The Market-center was burning and people raided booths and shops taking food and trinkets alike. Then suddenly, order threatened to be placed upon this square. A squad of Guardsmen marched in. Valandil frowned; all the Guardsmen were rumored to be engaged in bloody fighting at the Castle. No reinforcements could be spared from the King's Home to come to the peasants quarters.

Valandil looked at the guards again. They were torn and bloody, and they marched with a tiredness that did not seem to fit a troop sent to put out such a lively riot. A patrol then. Trapped away from their comrades, the noble men were still striving to do their duty. A pity, for such loyal men would have uses in the Dynasty that was coming. The Dynasty of Ghayth. Immediately the guards moved through the square, pushing peasants back from buildings, swinging blades and arrows around threateningly, save they injured no one. the Quarter began to quiet as the riots' progress was stalled.

This could not do. Valandil nodded to his men, and they began to spread out through the crowd, several reaching into their packs, and un-stringing small, curved, horsebows. Valandil waited until his men were in position. Then he roared loudly from the middle of the crowd.

"Who are they to deny us?" He screeched. "They are cowards, or traitors why aren't they up fighting in the Palace?" the crowd murmured angrily

"Who said that?" Demanded the Guard Captain.

"Leave." Called Valandil. "You are not welcome here." The muttering increased.

"I will do my duty!" The Captain bellowed, and Valandil nodded to Rolph one of his men. An arrow took the Captain to the ground, and several others flew at guardsmen. The remaining four soldiers and Valandil leapt at the Patrol, blades appearing from underneath shirts, and slashing ant cutting and gutting the Guardsmen until they were no more. Around them, the crowd cheered and the riot began anew, just as powerful as before.

Where the hell was the High Commander?

It was completely unlike him to be missing for more than a few minutes, but it had been close onto FIVE DAYS now and no one had seen hide nor hair of him. And that was not good. Oh no.

It was madness. Absolute, utter madness, and it was all the High Commander's fault. Oh, Thaniel had quite a bit of respect for the High Commander (the man had been his hero ever since he joined the Kingsguard) but that respect was quickly dropping and if something wasn't done soon, Thaniel wasn't going to have any respect for the man anymore. Maybe if there had been some sort of family crisis, and perhaps if the High Commander had actually given them some notice, it would have been fine. But this sudden disappearance was completely unacceptable.

And it hadn't even taken five days before the city was in an uproar. There was mass hysteria (not to mention mass murdering and killing). The city was in flames, nearly the entire garrison had been burned to the ground, and the only safe place left was the Palace, with the King inside. Even the Palace wouldn't be safe much longer if this continued.

It wasn't even as if Thaniel could do anything about it. He was only a second lieutenant, and Major Ghern had never been terribly fond of him. He wasn't even important enough to help defend the King, which was where he was supposed to be. The man was probably wishing he'd been on the other side so he would have a reason to draw his sword and stab Thaniel in the liver. Or whatever.

After several hours of marching and attempting acheive peace (impossible) Thaniel finally gave up, and told his tiny patrol of men to go find some place of relative safety and save their sorry skins. Most of them were new recruits, barely men, and all of them were absolutely terrified.

It was then that he decided that he was going to try and find the High Commander and drag the man back to Olencia, wherever he was. The city deserved no less.

The city was burning.

Raid watched with cold eyes as the inn she'd been staying at roared and crackled with overfed flames. When it was all over--and she would survive--she would have to sleep in the streets. She ran an eye over the other burning houses; Raid wouldn't be alone in that, at least.

Briefly, she thought of Hadrian--why wasn't he doing anything? Was he not in the city? Could she reach him...

Oh god, she thought. Teivel!

Raid made a break for the burning inn stables, snatching a nearby cloak-rag and covering her head with it. Teivel--her Teivel--

--Was okay. She darted past a falling wooden beam, coming up to the Wild's door. He was rearing, his eyes wide and with the whites showing clearly at the edges of his normally dark eyes. Raid took a risk and made a grab for the reins, managing to grip them tightly enough to bring the frantic horse down.

"Ssh, ssh," she hissed, rubbing his neck. "I'm getting you out!"

Teivel snorted, still pawing anxiously where he stood, but calmed down enough for Raid to safely open the stall door and swing up to mount him.

She kicked his flanks, not speaking a word. He surged forward in time to just barely avoid another falling beam, whinnying a high-pitched cry not unlike that of a warhorse. Teivel lowered his head and charged out of the stables.

Raid fisted her hands in his mane, burying her now soot-stricken face in the thick hairs. She'd almost forgotten...she wasn't the only she had to look after.

She'd have to get out of the streets, first. Raid lifted her head to watch through eyes sharp once more at the frantic crowds around her. Another kick to Teivel's flanks, and he was diving towards an alley.

"Withdraw the squads." Kierav hissed. "Now."

"Why?" The private asked, blinking.

"Concentrate our efforts to the Palace. We kill the King, quell the riot, and rule as the Lords of Olencia." Kierav said hotly. "Now withdraw the squads."

"If you say so." The private said.

---

"They're coming. Shore up the defenses. Are all the patrols in?"Major Ghern asked. "We'll need them.

"Everyone except for... Kriest, sir."

"Kriest? Dammit." Ghern sighed. "... no choice. Close the gates, man the walls, sergeant."

"Close sir? What about Kriest?" The sergeant blinked.

"Close them. Man the walls!" Ghern yelled as the first flaming rock flew over the walls. "MAN THE WALLS!"

---

The city was close to bieng a ruin. Well, some people had good sense to extinguish the flames, but otherwise, some quadrants were pretty much hunks of blackened rock. The King's Palace, in comparison to the other quadrants, remained untouched, with the two factions of the King's Guard fighting each other for supremacy.

Four and a half days' hard ride took them from the Barrier foothills and close to the city. All the while the growing pillar of smoke made Penril worry. Many times during the journey he wished that he had the power of flight or even teleportation, but those kind of things were simply beyond his reach, even though he was a Slayer.

When they were some kilometers away from the city, Hadrian insisted that he pulled his hood up and stick to him at all costs - something that Penril obeyed albeit grudgingly.

Suddenly Olencia was not a place where he could take a stroll down the streets and expect to be able to safely return home.

He came back now as the King's son, and coming back as such merited many dangers for his part.

Life was more exciting. Yay.

...

Or not.

Some distance from the city, Hadrian insisted, no, ORDERED him to pull up his hood. Exact words were; ‘PULL HOOD UP NOW.’ With words like that, capital letters and all, he was NOT TO BE ANGERED. THE SAFETY OF THE KINGDOM RESTED IN PENRIL. IF PENRIL DIED, HE’D FIND SOME GOOD OLD CLIFF TO JUMP OFF, YES. FOLLOW HIM INTO DEATH. HA HA.

…

So NOT FUNNY! DON’T DIE ON MEEEEE!

Four days of riding. FOUR. FOUR. GOD. HE SMELLED LIKE CRAP AND GOD STUBBLE. STUBBLE. LIKE CRAP MIXED WITH … BURNT… RUBBER.

Ugh.

Upon entering the city, Hadrian twitched. MUST… QUELL… RIOT…. FIX…. HOUSES…. GODS. MUST STOP THIS NOW!

Let’s see, overall chaos. DAMN. GONE FOR A FEW DAYS AND THIS HAPPENS. HOLY CRAP. Well let’s see, first priority, contact the King’s Guard.

…

GOD WHERE WERE THEY!? THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO KEEP ORDER! OHHH MAJOR GHERN WOULD DIE! DIE! HANGING! WITH… PITCHFORKS… AND TORCHES!

“Stay close.” Hadrian ordered Penril. “If we should lose you, I think… I’ll follow you there soon enough.” Giving the reins a quick flick, the High Commander and the Crown Prince rode further into the blackened war-torn hulk that was Olencia.

((More overlords taking more liberties. Ignore me.

Val, this might be a little different from what you were expecting, but I'm hoping you can work with it. Otherwise, just ignore the parts of my post that don't work, and make up something in yours.))

The city was slowly burning to the ground. As the city burned, the citymen ran around the city running amok like chickens with their heads cut off. Seyira, peering out a second floor window, would have laughed if she hadn't been in that self-same burning city. She'd been in Olencia for what? a week, and already, she was going to have to leave. So not what she'd hoped for this trip to be.

Nothing good could come out of her leaving Olencia. Both Lady Altariel and Traherne would hang her for wasting such a rare opportunity, and there was nothing for her to go back to, except a lifetime of boredom as a lady's maid. However, if she chose to stay in Olencia, there were some things she could do...

Quickly, an idea was formed. It was dangerous, life-threatening, and probably highly risky at best. It would mean leaving the life she had known for the past five years, working with skills she hadn't used in those five years, and exposing herself to whatever dangers the world wanted to throw at her. She went to the dresser, pulled out her cloak, and then dug around the drawer until she found the pouch that held her money. There was enough in there for spending a week in Olencia, meals and lodging included, but hopefully she'd find some work before it ran out, so she could at least support herself for a while.

Her plan all hinged around the possibility that a certain man of the name Valandil Shadowdeath might be in town. She'd heard whispers of it, whispers that only the lowly and extremely observant could hear, and she was sincerely hoping that those rumors were true. Seyira had found out lately that her mistress Altariel had found a way to buy the services of that man in her conspiracy. If Seyira could just find him, she might actually have half a chance.

Throwing her cloak on, she carefully hid her pouch on her person, and then went to go scribble a note to Jaylyn. She couldn't just disappear, but there was no way she could explain what she was about to do either. So she merely wrote down that she was leaving, she couldn't explain why, and that she hoped that Jaylyn and the rest would make it home safely. She folded it, wrote Jaylyn's name on top, and set it somewhere obvious. Then, in the midst of all the confusion, she left.

It was even worse outside. The stench of smoke and ashes were everywhere, and it was so loud and Seyira was having trouble hearing herself think. She didn't know how she was going to be able to find who she wanted in this mess, but she was going to have to try. She knew what he looked like - to a certain extent - and his appearance was unique enough that she hoped she wouldn't have a problem identifying him. Finding him was going to be a whole other matter.

However, it turned out that Lady Luck was on her side. In Market-square, half an hour after she'd begun her search, she stumbled across a riot that was coming to a close. The infamous Kingsguard against an unknown group - and the Kingsguard was losing. But as Seyira stared, she realized the unknown group was actually familiar to her - they wore the colors of House Ghayth. Altariel? No, Altariel would never risk her safety entering this mess. Perhaps...

Then the leader - or the man Seyira had assumed to be the leader - turned, and Seyira caught sight of a familiarly described face. It could be no other than Valandil Shadowdeath. But how would he respond to an unknown woman on the streets?

She waited until the fight had come to a close, then called out, "Valandil Shadowdeath, I would like a word with you"

((Val, PM me if I need to change this))

He had been watching the riot for some time. Creeping in the shadows and waiting were two of the things he did best. For certain, Valandil had already seen him. He was the other great assassin residing in Olencia proper. But he tended more toward the killing and less toward the subterfuge. He was good, no doubt, but his lack of stealth had captured him more than once. Not that he wasn't able to always get out of it.

He remembered when they had worked together. He had gotten them in but Valandil had done the job. Such a beautiful killing it was too. Poison on a letter opener. Really, where did Valandil come up with such a thing. Valandil had wanted to kill the noble outright, but Blyth advised against the amount of noise it would make. Shortly after, they had parted ways, but remained correspondents.

A suspicious-looking, but ravishing woman emerged from a side street. She was concentrating on only Valandil. Blyth wondered what she wanted with him.

"Valandil Shadowdeath, I would like a word with you"

Who was this woman? The fact that she knew Valandil's name alerted him and he slunk further back into the shadows. She carried herself with a poise that did not match the weak looking body. She was experienced, if not in the ways of the shadows, then in the ways of life for certain. He was intrigued.

“Stay close.” Hadrian ordered him. “If we should lose you, I think… I’ll follow you there soon enough.”

They sped on toward the city. At this distance, screams could already be heard. Screams and angry yells from both aggressors and defenders. Penril gritted his teeth. It was a good time to see what kind of kingdom he would inherit. And he was given a live-action demonstration to boot!

He was going to be the King of a war-torn land, whose people would even doubt that he WAS indeed the Crown Prince. Everyone believed him dead. He wondered vaguely how the heads of houses would react. Ghayth wouldn't be happy. Calandae would probably plot to get him killed...and Marlas...well...

Fires everywhere. Fires and flying...was that a MAN flying?

He needed to know if his father was safe. But his duties as a Slayer would come first. He loosened his grip around Hadrian's torso and jumped off the horse....



...gods, that HURT! Penril quickly rolled off the street and broke into a dash into some corners, determined to lose Hadrian. He kept his hood up to hide his face. He would need to help stop the fires at least...

He ducked into another corner and found a burning house. He could sense someone still inside. Gah!

Quickly, now! Penril reached out to the ground water underneath, using the energy of the blazing fires around the city as his energy source. He drew the water up...up... up... some fires snuffed out entirely as he expended their energies.

There was a huge explosion of water in that part of the city.

Penril let go. PENRIL. LET. GO. OH YOU WELL-MEANING FOOL! Hadrian jerked on the reins. He couldn’t call him by his title…. THERE WERE PEOPLE HERE! INSANE RIOTING PEOPLE. DAMMIT! HE PROMISED TOO, BUT HE DID SAY…. He would try.

OHO, LOOPHOLE, MILORD.

“Your HIGHNESS!” Hadrian yelled, directing the horse to where Penril ran to. “MY LORD!”

The horse THEN DECIDED TO BE TIRED. Hadrian fell off the horse. FIRST TIME SINCE PUBERTY! HA HA HA. NO TIME TO LAUGH, WHERE THE FLICK WAS PENRIL!?

“MY LORD!?” Hadrian hollered. He grabbed the horse's reins, mounted and urged the horse on.

Vibrations… on the ground? Or in? PENRIL. MAGIC. GOD, NO. DON’T USE MAGIC, YOU FOO’. MAGIC MEANS KILL ME. MAGIC MEANS KILL ME, YOU IDIOT!

There. Figure. Knocked off his feet. And then with a huge ‘WOOMCH’ and then WATER CAME FROM THE GROUND IN GLORIOUS WAVES OF COOL.

There. Hood off from the explosion. Hadrian urged the horse nearer.

"First lesson in Olencia, Highness." Hadrian said candidly, lifting the heir easily with a hand and placing him on the horse. "...when in doubt, run away."

((Author's Note. The only complaint I have Sey is that were supposed to be "undercover" warriors not merely colored and knowable troops running amok in the mess -.-' But its not really a major detail.))

Twist. Spin. Kick. Stab. The terrible cauphony of battle swirled around Valandil, and it filled him. Warfare and violence was all he had known over the course a lifetime that was broken and scattered through over 200 years. Valandil could still remember elves, but he was not conscious during the time of their subjugation, or their diffusion into men. He missed elves. They were such different, well people. He just did not relate to many men, and the few he did, well were not always accessible.

With a final vicious swipe, he disemboweled the last Kingsguard, and spun away, his curved black knife glinting in the lights of the fires raging all around him. As he turned, his eyes caught a figure skulking in the darkness. For a moment, the figure clothed in shadows and framed by the firelight looked familiar. But then it fell back into the darkness, and Valandil lost it. But something else immediately grabbed his attention.

A large explosion, or an earthquake of some kind shook the city. Valandil stumbled, and a moment later water poured down from the heavens, dousing several fires and the rioters themselves. The diluted blood ran freely through the gutters, and around the street corner. Before Valandil could fully recover, a voice entered his ears.

"Valandil Shadowdeath, I would like a word with you"

The assassin spun, his eyes narrowed as he looked for a woman who might have called him. There, coming out of a side street, named Oak, she stood wrapped in a cloak, but with her head exposed and her eyes piercing. There was an almost passable familiarity about her, but Valandil could not place it. Swiftly he strode towards her, keeping the curved blade pressed against his wrist, and twisted away from her.

"Who are you?" He whispered furiously. "And how do you know my name?"

Although the battle was raging around him, Blyth decided to make his presence known. Was that Hadrian over yonder and who was that with him? Oh, he saw now that the latter had jumped from the horse. Funny, he didn't take Pen as a horse rider. Definitely not. But why would Hadrian be with Pen? Did Hadrian know that he was the Ablest?
This was quite too much.

If Hadrian was in on this, it had to be important. He would follow. Blyth let himself to be seen, just for a second, to make sure Valandil would not jump to violence. Then, quickly as possible, he caught up with Hadrian and Pen. What were they thinking riding horses during a riot? These two could probably end this anarchy. It was bad for business when everyone could do crimes and not get caught. Services like his were no longer needed.

But none of this mattered because he was retiring. No matter. He would help stop the fall of the city. Become a "hero." Ha. It made him laugh to think of himself as a hero.

Suddenly, the ground started to tremor. An earthquake? Not likely. He felt something, power well up from the earth. Penril. Water came shooting from the ground, thousands of gallons. Why would he use magic? Just to stop the riot. Perhaps there was some greater danger at work here.

Hadrian would probably notice someone following him. Better show himself. He hoped Hadrian didn't recognize him. He had only been caught when he was younger and stupid. It had been at least eight, if not more years. Better pull his cowl tight to be safe. This risk was worth it. He needed to speak with Penril.

"Penril, I would like to have a word with you," uttered Blyth as he stepped from the shadows.

((ooc - Um, guys, there was a big explosion of water from out of nowhere, and even before that, a tremor on the ground. Surely we're all bound to notice?))

(( Until this moment I did not realize we were in the same sector -.-'. Editing Now))

Two hours...and absolutely nothing. Thaniel hadn't found so much as a little hair belonging to the High Commander, suggesting thathte man really didn't want to be found. Well, in any other situation, that would have been fine and dandy, but right now, that man's absence was causing death and destruction. The city needed the High Commander back, the Kingsguard needed him back, hell, Thaniel needed the man back, if only so he could go back to his peaceful safe life idolizing the man in silence.

But that didn't look like it was going to happen, and that was not acceptable. Thaniel liked his life. He dearly wanted to keep it, and if that meant finding Lord Hadrian, well, there was nothing that was going to stop him.

He was suddenly bowled over by a huge jet of water bursting up from the ground.

Nothing...save strange magical things he didn't want to know about.

Shaking water from his hair, he peered around through blurry eyes...and saw two figures on horseback, about fifty feet from where he was. The way one of them sat, so rigidly in his seat, oozed an aura of familiarity and assurance.

Lord Hadrian.....

No freaking way.

Oh, but it was the High Commander. Thaniel suddenly wanted to cry. That wave of sudden sensitivity was quickly drowned out by a wave of irrantional anger. Where had the stupid man been?! Didn't he know the city was burning?? Arggh!!!

Running as best he could on the shaking, tremoring ground, Thaniel made his way to the two men, stopping a few feet away when someone else magically appeared and asked for a word with Penril. His woozy mind suggested there was something important with the name ;Penril' but Thaniel was too busy glaring at the other man - Lord Hadrian - to pay much attention. Maybe he'd take some advice from the stranger.

"Lord Hadrian, could I have a word with you, sir?"

Some... guy. Knew Penril. Hadrian kept an eye on him, but didn't make a move to defend. Penril could.. fend for himself, but he looked weak. All that water, while extinguishing some of the larger fires in the area, allowed all of them time to act, but Penril seemed so weak.

His grip tightened on the reins. If he failed again...

Leaping off a cliff would do. Shooting himself? Nah, no guns, arrows were painful... maybe hanging? Nah. He was too heavy. Leaping seemed COOLER, anyway. It was like the 'fall to madness' and then the 'fall to death'. Both of which HADRIAN DID NOT WANT TO HAPPEN NOW. LIFE IS LOVE, YES!?

"Lord Hadrian, could I have a word with you, sir?"

Wait.. who? Hadrian turned his head. Recruit. Oh goody, reinforcements.

..

Just.. .bloody... one?

Hadrian's eye twitched. "Status report, P2LT." He barked. "The King's Guard... what happened here?" YES, DO TELL. BEFORE I ABSOLUTELY GO INSANE. I MUST... RESTORE... ORDER... AUUUUGHHH!

Hadrian's hand twitched. No, not now. Must.. not... go insane. Order will be restored. ORDER WILL BE RESTORED. OH TO HELL WITH IT ALL! TO HELL WITH IT ALL! Hadrian shuddered in the saddle. GOD.

NO! MUST... RESTRAIN! PENRIL! I WILL NOT GO OUT THERE AND LOB SOME HEADS OFF. WILL. NOT. BUT THAT FRUIT STAAAAND!

GAAAAAH! No. had to calm down. CALM DOWN! DEEP BREATHS. FEEL YOUR INNER SANITY! GO TO YOUR HAPPY PLACE.

...

Mentally reassembling the fruit stand was relaxing. Yeah.

...

Felt a little better.

Hadrian looked at the Probationary Second Lieutenant. "What do you want?" he asked. GOD... TWITCHING... TWITCHING.... IS NO ONE GOING TO CLEAN UP THAT SORRY EXCUSE OF A FRUIT STAND!?

Anger Meter? 50% or so. SIXTY AND EVERYONE WILL BE ROYALLY SCREWED! ARRRRR!

((Whoopsidaisies. Sorry, Penril. Valandil, completely my fault. I have a bad tendency not to read very thoroughly. x.x))

Seyira had assumed correctly. What she hadn't counted on, however, was the man's reaction. She was slightly taken aback when he spun around and glared at her with eyes full of suspicion, demanding to know who she was. There really shouldn't have been any surprise on her part, since no one really liked to be assaulted by strangers, especially when they were rather well known. Even though Seyira was hardly at this Valandil's level, she herself would have scuttled into the darkest corner she could find if someone called out her name to the world. There were two things one normally did when presented with an unknown danger: run away, or kill it. While Seyira was more the run-away-and-save-your-life type of person, this man would not hesitate to kill anything and everything standing in his way.

No wonder Altariel had bought him.

Valandil had spoken in a whisper - a lough angry whisper, but a whisper nonetheless - so Seyira decided to accompany him. She didn't want to whisper, but she did speak quietly, loud enough for him to hear, but not loud enough for the rest of the world should they decide to eavesdrop on this particular conversation.

"I am Seyira Vivienne. Not a name I expect you to be familiar with, but I suspect there is another name that if I bring up, you will respond to. And you can thank her for giving me your name. A certain Lady Altariel Katrei of Ghayth? I believe she is part of the reason you are here in Olencia, though since I don't know all the details, I can't be exactly sure. I work for her as well, collecting information, you could say."

Finally, the world was making sense again. "Status report" were probably the first words all day that actually made sense to Thaniel. He wanted to hug the High Commander for being here and yet at the same time, wanted to throttle the man until he started thinking straight. Except....if he throttled the High Commander, he would probably get his butt kicked from one side of the city to the other.

Or, he could call the man 'old' which would elicit the same reaction, only ten thousand times worse.

Thaniel decided to give the status report.

"There was a little...unrest after you went missing." Damn you. "It appeared that several of the new recruits, along with some of the more seasoned warriors had been planning a little revolution, and your absence was the perfect time to carry it out. The man in charge is presumed to be Lieutenant Kierav. Nearly all of the destruction was his work.

"The Fortress has been set ablaze. Very little of it remains, and will most like have to be entirely reconstructed. I hope there was nothing in your office that was of great importance." That was probably the one room that had the most damage done to it. You couldn't even tell where it was, unless you had memorized the route there. But moving on.

"Major Ghern has taken the majority of the troops to the King's Palace. The palace is in good condition, and is being defended with the half or so troops that are left. The city....well, I believe you can see for yourself."

Thaniel really hoped the man would do something about all this. Otherwise, they were all in huge trouble.

Teivel wouldn't listen to her.

"You fool of a Wild," Raid shouted desperately, "If we do not run we will die!"

His only response was to rear; she helplessly clamped down on his sides with her legs. The girl was ridiculously small compared to the large mammal. Though, she at least had the sense of mind to draw her bow from her back. Who knew--she might yet need it.

As it was, she had to calm Teivel first.

As soon as the Wild came down, an earthquake shook the area. He made a strange scream--Raid paled. It was not the first time she'd heard the scream of a horse, but it was the first she'd heard it from her Teivel. She again fought to control him even as he struggled for balance.

Geysers of water erupted from the earth beneath them. Amazingly, the horse managed to keep his great head from being smashed into by the erupting water. He turned on his heel with no influence from Raid and fled.

It was the best she could do to hold on as he surged through the chaotic streets. She was sure that more than a few people were trampled, possibly killed--Teivel didn't discriminate, and he wasn't in his right mind as it was. She could only scream her frustration.

Raid's eyes widened at the sight of approaching rioters. With renewed desperation, she tried to at least turn Teivel to a less arrow-like path, but he charged on.

This is it, she thought numbly. That crowd is huge. If we go in, they'll stick us as if we were pigs.

Teivel had other ideas. A short burst of what should have been impossible speed, and he was up and over the first wave of the rioters. Once they caught side of the large Wild, they scattered, smartly making no attempt to close in on the obviously panicked horse.

Raid didn't breathe until she was out of the mob's midst. Even so, she leant in to hiss in Teivel's flattened ears.

"If we get out of this alive, I'm going to strike you so hard your dam will feel the blow!"

The woman it seemed was to be full of surprises.

"I am Seyira Vivienne. Not a name I expect you to be familiar with, but I suspect there is another name that if I bring up, you will respond to. And you can thank her for giving me your name. A certain Lady Altariel Katrei of Ghayth? I believe she is part of the reason you are here in Olencia, though since I don't know all the details, I can't be exactly sure. I work for her as well, collecting information, you could say."

Well he had certainly never heard of her, but in her business, being a spy that had been heard of was not exactly the same sort of recommendation it would be for a man of weapons such as himself. Indeed, any spy whose name was bandied about amongst the higher-up was probably not a spy worth having. So Valandil's not having heard of her was definitively a strike in her favor. But not nearly enough for him to trust her.

Any spy, well not any spy, but a spy with the right information could easily have connected him to House Ghayth. Indeed, he rather suspected that his joining with the House had been leaked about...succinctly. He would not have been surprised at all if Altariel herself had leaked the secret. For at least two reasons. The first was that by letting it be known that Valandil was her agent, he would only be able to get work from those who sought to please her, and should he abandon her service it would be a blot on his record. The other was simply implying a matter of influence. It was like a rich man who pulled his gold watch from his vest in the company of others. Not to tell the time, but to merely impress the others wit the size, make, and special attributes of his watch.

Rather than resent her, Valandil was very impressed with the woman's smooth manipulating. While he probably would never have chosen to join a side in Olencia's political maelstrom, he at least had confidence that he had joined the right one.

He looked down at the woman at his side, young and beautiful; she certainly had the look of one from the lands of Ghayth, but than many did. Valandil tilted his head to the side as he evaluated her, and weighed his options.

"Tell me, how can I trust you? Give me a sign, a token, something."

He idly turned his head to the side as he waited for a reply, and his eyes narrowed. No. That could not be.....He looked down the long street, and immediately several people clicked in his mind.

The first was Blyth, and it surprised Valandil to see the kid here. He had thought that the boy had gotten out of the business for "other pursuits". Next there was a man Valandil had bumped into in the streets, whose name he had never ascertained, but he had been a man of military training Valandil seemed to remember. The third man was hooded and not familiar. It was the Fourth man Valandil recognized. Along the distance, their eyes met, and unconsciouls Valandil drew his borrowed broadsword.

"The gods love me." Valandil breathed. "Is that Hadrian?" He was hardly even aware he had spoken aloud.

((Anyone Lemme know if I crossed any lines they didnt want crossed.))

"There was a little...unrest after you went missing."

.... TWITCH.

"It appeared that several of the new recruits, along with some of the more seasoned warriors had been planning a little revolution, and your absence was the perfect time to carry it out. The man in charge is presumed to be Lieutenant Kierav. Nearly all of the destruction was his work."

WAS THIS PAYBACK FROM MAKING YOU SHOVEL POO!? WAS IT!? DAMN YOU, KIERAV! DAMN YOU! AND I WAS HOPING TO DEMOTE PROMOTE YOU TOO. DAMN YOU.

"The Fortress has been set ablaze." He stiffened at this. The Fort. GONE? It had been there since he was a KID. OH GOD. HADRIAN EVARISTUS, 43rd HIGH COMMANDER AND THE FORT BURNED DOWN ON HIS WATCH. HIS WATCH. OHMYGOD I WANT TO DIE.

"...I hope there was nothing in your office that was of great importance."

His... office? His... swords? His COLLECTION? THOSE FREAKING SWORDS CAME ALL THE WAY FROM CALANDAE! GOD! YOU WILL DIE! DIE! He shuddered again. Must... hold... back.

"Major Ghern has taken the majority of the troops to the King's Palace. The palace is in good condition, and is being defended with the half or so troops that are left. The city....well, I believe you can see for yourself."

Oh thank god, some sanity left in the world. Feeling his temper ebb a LITTLE bit, Hadrian nodded, although a man drawing his broadsword attracted his attention. Eyes met, and Hadrian found himself turning back to Kriest.

"Get to the Palace." He said. "Find what troops you can muster and lead a strike force. If Ghern asks, give him this..." Tugging the signet ring off his finger, he handed it to Kriest. "Keep the hummingbird safe." He said. Tugging on the reins he dismounted, pulled Penril off the horse, and offered the reins to Kriest.

"Ride hard." Eye still on that suspicious blond haired man, Hadrian kept a hand on his sword.

"My Lord...." he looked at Penril. "As much as possible, stay close. I will not repeat this again. This is not the Olencia you knew. It's fight or flight now."

Water exploded in a force that knocked him backwards, and for one wild moment Penril felt that his guts had twisted itself, and his head had been hit over and over with Madam Carmeli's rolling pin. He slammed down onto the street winded and blinking. Specks of blue and white danced across his field of vision, and he tried to stand, but the way his hand spasmed told him he should take it carefully or there might be serious repercussions. Hadrian was saying something but he could not understand; and people...people were coming...someone called him, but...

One hand touched his temples. It throbbed badly against his hand, and everything from his neck up hurt, even his eyes. The fires had been put out, at least, or the majority of them. He tried to take several calming breaths. Damn it, he hadn't had any mistakes in focusing magical energy since he'd been a sniveling apprentice!

"...stay close. I will not repeat this again. This is not the Olencia you knew. It's fight or flight now."

Hadrian. Hadrian again. Penril's vision spun. Damn it, at this rate it would be hours before he was fully lucid...

He started taking several steps back and lifted his hood. For all he cared Blyth wasn't standing there. He shook his head. The dancing specks had vanished. Yes.

The pony.

The name and the place echoed sharply in his mind. Without thinking, he broke into a run away from Hadrian and disappeared down the next street corner.

Penril was in pain. Something was wrong. The Ablest of the Slayers did not make a mistake simply channeling water. Blyth concentrated on the water. He felt its energy, lying untapped. He pulled out a blade. He'd better do this right if he was to prevent pain. He envisioned a wire of energy. He pulled it toward the end of his sword.

A channel word in Elvish would make this immensly easier. He couldn't think of the word for heal though. Feanir, felear, fiole, fialar, faile. That was it! Faile.

"Faile," breathed Blyth, concentrating his hardest.

The wire in his mind wound around the end of the blade. Another presence crept into his head. He had to ignore it. If he gave it attention, he could accidentally steal its energy. He guided the wire and touched Pen. He felt the energy flow into Pen. He opened his eyes, which he hadn't realized he had closed. It didn't look as if there was any change.

Then, Penril arose. He didn't even respond to Blyth's presence. He started running. Blyth followed closely behind. Before leaving, Blyth shot a remark at Hadrian. He had made up his mind to help. Besides, if he ran, Hadrian wouldn't be able to catch him. Not fast enough.

"Hadrian, I'll have you know that normally I'm on the other side. Since I'm retiring, I'm offering my help in return for amnesty from my crimes. You know, the ones you couldn't solve. I like my kingdom too much to let it fall to some upstart."

Penril. Ran. AGAIN. And this time, there was NO HORSE TO CART YOUR ARSE AROUND, HIGH COMMANDER. NO HORSE. AT ALL.

...

THANIEL KRIEST YOU BETTER GET THAT HORSE MOVING BEFORE I PROCLAIM THAT I WILL BE STEALING CONFISCATING YOUR HORSE FOR GOOD INTENTIONS.

Then, the kid somewhere who talked to Penril spoke up. Hadrian whirled around to hear him, since he was just going off to retrieve the Prince. DAMMIT, WHY ARE YOU GOING EVERYWHERE!?

"Hadrian, I'll have you know that normally I'm on the other side." This attracted a snarl from him. WHAT? THEIF. MURDERER. CUTTHROAT. I'LL HANG YOU. HANG YOU, YOU MONGREL. YOU WILL DIE PAINFULLY. PITCHFORKS! TORCHES!

"Since I'm retiring," ... JOY.

"I'm offering my help in return for amnesty from my crimes." OOOH, NOW THAT HIT THE SPOT. CRIMES? OOOH, NO, NO AMNESTY FOR YOU, YOU THEIF/BANDIT/HIGHWAYMAN WHATEVER. YOU WILL DIE. DIE.

"You know, the ones you couldn't solve." Bigger snarl, more disdain. PUMP THAT HATRED. COULDN'T SOLVE!? I'LL HAVE YOU KILLED RIGHT HERE, AND THEN BOOM, JUST LIKE THAT, I'VE SOLVED THE FREAKING CASE. LET'S LOB SOME HEADS, I'LL USE MY RIGHT HAND FOR THIS.

"I like my kingdom too much to let it fall to some upstart." I COULD CARE LESS. DIE, MURDERER, DIE.

His eyebrow twitched. "We'll talk about the amnesty later." He said gruffly. "Penril. Keep him safe."

...

JUST THIS ONCE, I'LL LEAVE YOU.

...

SOB.

"Move, Kriest." He hissed, "That is an ORDER."

"We'll talk about the amnesty later. Penril. Keep him safe."

Hadrian was angry. To be expected. He didn't even know Blyth, no recognition at all. Still, Hadrian was outraged at the thought of a crime getting past him. The fact that he was even willing to talk of amnesty told Blyth that things were not going well. But Blyth could keep Penril safe at least. He could do that one thing for Hadrian. Poor Hadrian. Betrayal by his top Lieutenant. The lieutenant had made his choice. Treason. He will pay with his death. If Blyth had to hunt him down across all of Olencia, the traitor would die.

Hadrian didn't realize that Blyth was truly going to help him. But Blyth understood the lack of trust. But Hadrian would have to get over it, to get out of this mess. He had other, more important things to do.

Blyth kept chasing Penril. Hadrian would kill him if he let Penril come to any harm. Hadrian would use all his resources to catch him. No one is ever invincible. Blyth knew that so well. Too well. What shall come shall come, though. Hopefully, Hadrian will trust him enough to let him kill the lieutenant. Unless Hadrian wanted to do it himself. He would certainly need help, if he didn't want this to become a civil war.

((T___________T I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry......Just shoot me now...))

Thaniel was slightly shocked when the High Commander handed him the reins to his horse along with his signet ring. Apparently the High Commander was going to stay right here in the middle of the chaos while he, Thaniel Kriest, ran back to the Palace, informed Major Ghern that the High Commander, and ran right back to fetch the man. Why not just drag the High Commander along with him now and save himself all the trouble of having to run back and forth?

But no. The man just had to stay here and run the risk of possibly getting injured. Or worse, killed. How was he going to explain that one, hmm? "Yes I did see the High Commander...yes, I did talk to him....no, there was no direct order...well, despite the fact that he was going through a difficult stage in his life and wasn't making any sense whatsoever, I still decided to leave him along and come back here without him....No, I'm not stupid." That would be the gist of the conversation right there.

Still, the High Commander was the High Commader no matter how ridiculous he was being, so Thaniel hopped up into the saddle, reins and ring clutched in his hands, and prepared to ride hard. However, he caught several interesting pieces of information that halted him in his tracks. The man who currently had Lord Hadrian's attention was saying something about crimes and amnesty.

Uh-oh. That was not good. Everyone who was anyone knew how the High Commander felt about that subject. You could tell by looking at him now, how he was slightly frozen and how he'd snarled and everything...

...And now the High Commander was snarling at him, ordering him to get his butt moving.

"Yessir!"

And off he went.

Seyira was quite surprised when the man didn't immediately dismiss all that she said out of hand. Rather, he calmly listened to what she said, then simply asked her for some sort of proof, a very reasonable request. He'd seemed like the naturally suspicious type, but it seemed she was wrong on that count. Though, lately, she'd been wrong on several counts.

As for what proof she could give...she was a little at a loss on that. She didn't normally carry proof that she worked for the High Seat of House Ghayth, since that sort of thing usually tended to get people in trouble. There were a few pieces of correspondence she had from Altariel, but they were vague messages, a few short lines, nothing more. What did this man expect from her? For her to magically produce a signet ring belonging to Altariel from out of thin air? Seyira sincerely hoped not, because such a feat,, though plausible for some, was quite impossible for her. After all, she was only human, despite how she might pretend otherwise.

Diggin aroung, she found her little pouch, containing what money she had, along with a few personal things. Altariel's letter, delivered some weeks before all this was buried somewhere on the bottom. It was the closest she had to proof of any sort, and even then, the man might not take it. Writing could be forged, and Altariel wasn't the only person in the world who called her Seyira.

Oh well. The man was going to have to live with what she gave him, and if it wasn't enough for him, she was going to beat some sense into him. Although, judging from his appearance, he would likely kill her first before she even had a chance.

Taking her paper, she offered it to him, saying, "This was a letter delivered to me by Lady Altariel. It's the only solid form of proof I can give you. If you want names, events, I can give you those, but this is all I have on paper. You can take it or leave it."

His sharp inquisition seemed to catch the woman off guard. She paused for a moment, apparently considering her options. Valandil remained tensed, with his broadsword held lightly in his right hand. He half-feared she was some knifer who had been hired to counter him. He watched her closely as she slipped a hand into her pouch, his eyes strained to see if she palmed a knife or other armament. His eyes caught nothing, and when she presented a folded piece of paper, he frowned. His eyes scanned it as she spoke.

"This was a letter delivered to me by Lady Altariel. It's the only solid form of proof I can give you. If you want names, events, I can give you those, but this is all I have on paper. You can take it or leave it."

He frowned as he skimmed the fairly simple letter. Its content was of little consequence to him, it was the signature that interested him. He had not been in Lady Altariel's employ long enough to be certain of her signature, but it did look familiar to the ones he had seen. He frowned. What a paradox. On the one hand, he took a risk by accepting her on such scant evidence....on the other, if he denied aid to a servant of his mistress, she would be displeased, and her cause slowed.

He ground his teeth at being forced into such a conundrum. He looked at her for a long moment before he growled. "You of course know this is not enough to implicitly prove you, and I know few enough events to ascertain you that way." He frowned again, clearly displeased. "You will stay with me until your loyalties can be proved." His eyes narrowed. "And if you are proved false, you will rue the day you were born." His eyes reflected that solemn promise with chilling coldness.

"Follow me." he grunted as he began trotting towards where he had last seen Hadrian, his soldiers falling into position behind him...

The man obviously was not pleased by the scant bits of 'evidence' she had to show him. Seyira would have been displeased as well had she been in his situation, but in her defense, she hadn't been prepared to find one of her mistress's other servants, and therefore hadn't exactly come teeming with proof. She didn't even have that much proof to start with, so it would have been difficult to somehow find more.

However, it seemed to be enough for the moment. After much frowning and mumbling, he barked a short affirmative, offered a threat, and jerked his head, indicating that she should follow him wherever he was going. Seyira sighed inwardly, relieved that she wouldn't be forced to do something dangerous just to prove her identity. Then again, this whole thing was dangerous in and of itself, so that really wasn't saying much. After all, if she placed one foot out of line, the man was going to do wno knew what unspeakable terrors to her. He'd said as much himself, and his whole body was just radiating danger.

Seyira let Valandil take the lead, unsure of where they were heading. She wasn't required to do anything at the moment except follow him, and that suited her just fine. She just hoped that if he needed her to do something, he'd tell beforehand, rather than just shoving her into the fray without any sort of explanation.

((All right, lead the way.))

The Pony was safe. When Penril skidded down the street corner he saw Madam Carmeli whack a ruffian unconscious with her infamous rolling pin. Markoj and three other men were busy tipping somebody down from the third floor windows. For one split second Pen thought he saw Aele hurl boiling water over someone----!

"PEN! GOOD GODDESS WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!" Madam Carmeli shrieked, finding him and jabbing her rolling pin. She ran forward to meet him in a speed a woman of her size shouldn't be capable of. She'd hiked up her skirts and Pen could see wooden shoes down there.

"THEY TRIED TO STEAL THE WINE!" The woman yelled, waving her pin angrily. "Hah, they thought that we were all so busy scampering for cover, they thought we was! Well they are wrong, Pen, THEY ARE WRONG! We will never leave the Pony!"

The former Ablest groaned. "Woman, I am not deaf, I can hear you!" He led the way back to the inn. "What else did they try to take -?!"

"THEY TRIED TO TAKE AELE TOO, THE FOOLS-!"

Oh no.

Penril ducked into familiar territory. His staff were all armed with pitchforks, spatulas and kitchen knives - the gardener even had an upturned pot on his head like a helmet. The relief on their faces was incomparable when they recognized who he was despite the short hair and missing tattoo.

"Well done," was all Penril managed. "Well done, all of you."

He could only hope Penril was safe, because by the gods, he was not going to tolerate this mess any longer.

HE COULD NOT, AND WOULD NOT TOLERATE THIS. THIS WAS ALL WRONG, AND BY THE GODS, DAMMIT, HADRIAN WOULD MAKE IT RIGHT OR DIE TRYING. He felt so… what was that WORD?

…

ANGRY.

…

He… he WANTED to sort out those fruits on that burning fruits stand...

…

ANGRY AND ANAL.

A group of renegade soldiers came around, pointed at him, at him in their stupid pathetic voices and they drew their swords and charged. How stupid could you get? HOW STUPID CAN YOU GET?

Sword out and waving, Hadrian ducked a slice that would’ve beheaded him if he was any slower. With a certain degree of brutality, Hadrian rammed his shoulder hard into a rebel soldier, so hard that the man coughed out blood and dispatched him with a quick thrust to the heart.

HAPPY NOW, YOU IDIOT? You wreck MY city, destroy MY OFFICE and raid my COLLECTION of SWORDS and you thought you could DAMN WELL RUN AROUND AND DENT THOSE BLADES I’VE SPENT SO LONG COLLECTING?! GUESS AGAIN, YOU SCREAMING NINNIES, GUESS AGAIN!

He thrust his sword up through a man’s lower jaw ALL the way up to the HILT. HOW YOU LIKE THEM APPLES, HUH!? I’M GOING TO KILL YOU ALL. ALL OF YOUR SORRY, USURPING- AND IF YOU’RE STILL ALIVE BY THEN I’LL SHOVE A ROCK UP YOUR-

An idiot bearing one of his beloved rapiers intended to gut him.

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-“

He rammed his fist into the man’s face and kicked his body for good measure. DENIED, BEECH, DENIED. He took note of the location where his rapier was and then he was once more assaulted with another group of soldiers.

IF THIS WAS A JAPANESE ANIMATION, HADRIAN WOULD BE GLOWING RED AND HAVE BLONDE SPIKY HAIR.

…

AND MUSCLES.

Hadrian roared and cut someone’s leg off.

...

But it wasn't an animation, so he was stuck being this really, really angry person who looked like a pirate. ):