The Sentinels: Sleeping Giants


Ben listened with interest and swore, this was getting him nowhere. Kicking the rock he swore again and then said "Do you know anything of any use at all? Also, if we can do anything for you, that is reasonable, for try to help us out here then what is it?" Ben figured he might as well help this man who had helped them. He guessed that might include putting this man out of his misery.

English Bill

Brynjolf would have regretted drawing another into his squabbles if he's had time. Instead though he had to survive and so all thought was on the fight. If he could dispatch the two against him, then he could help the alchemist.

Brynjolf jumped backwards to avoid the bearded mans attack, while at the same time pushing himself suddenly into the axeman's space, robbing him of the room to swing his weapon. He then twisted himself around, using the axeman's bulk as a pivot so that the axeman was suddenly between him and the other attacker.

Lord Regal

Campfire Guardian
The attempt at dissuading the fight had failed, and now Drake had two of the Chasind on him. They had clearly judged that speed would be their ally in this was his job to prove them wrong. The swordsmen stabbing at his chest he countered with his axe, the electricity still crackling across the metal leaping to the Chasind's weapon, shocking him. He then ducked, spinning around and swatting the hammer away with his staff. "I'll admit...not half bad," he conceded, jumping back from them, landing heavily, armor clanking. "Now then...let's try this on for size..." He pointed his staff squarely at the hammer-wielding Chasind, then fired a bolt of electricity at the man. As it traveled, bits and pieces of the crackling energy broke off...these the alchemist directed at the swordsman. "Not bad, but nowhere near good enough..." he finished.


"So tell me Galen...were you at the Black gate the day my brother died?"
Galen paused before answering. "Yes."
His fingers moved out of other people's pockets as he drew level to Cesare. "I was one of the sniping groups that was working on holding up the enemy in the mountain passes on either side. So I didn't see your brother in combat." He explained.
"Do you hear that?...sounds like there’s some kind of battle going on" Cesare exclaimed.
"Yeah." Galen replied, drawing his sword he moved forward rapidly, moving out of the alley to see the sight that lay before him; two people were being attacked by a party of Chasind. Galen waited for Cesare to catch up before turning to him; "Shall we intervene?"


Looking down the alleyway at the ensuing melee, Cesare watched as the two men fought against the four Chasind warriors with apparent ease "No...Not just yet I want to watch this" he replies before slowly moving down the alleyway to stand and watch with apparent interest as he watched the two men almost as if he was judging their performance "So what do you reckon Galen do you think they would do?" he asked motioning towards the two men with a slight nod of his head. Depending on how well they faired in the next few minutes Cesare reckoned he had just found the guys he needed for his trip to the borderlands.
The Chasind
Finding the exile suddenly in front of him the axeman doesn't hesitate as he drives his forehead into the mans face causing the to both stagger away clutching their heads, the large bearded man laughing loudly at the sight before moving in to remove the stunned exiles head with a single downward cut of his sword.

With the effects of Drakes sorcery still burning through them the pair of Chasind find themselves only just capable crawling as their muscles spasm uncontrollably making it undeniably clear that they wouldn't be causing any trouble anytime soon and seemed to have completely lost all interest in doing so as they both sought to escape the armoured menace towering over them.
The Wolfskin laughs between wracking blood speckled coughs as the mercenary complained about the useless answers he was being provided and even more so when he tried to bargain with him "What in the name of Hel could I want? A dying man has no need of coin...and I’ve only answered the questions you’ve asked why would I lie?" it was becoming clear by the colour of his skin and the way his breath laboured that he wouldn't last much longer, his wounds and his time spent out in the elements finally having taken their toll upon him.

Meanwhile Jaime and the others continued to search the battle ravaged encampment finding it just as the Wolfskin had said; completely devoid of anything that could be salvaged and carried away by the local villagers.
However he did notice one curious thing, for an encampment with only one entrance there were an awful lot of arrows sticking in the ground the pointing the wrong was almost as if the attack hadn't come from the gate at all.


Ben listened to the man talk bout no need of money and he smiled and said "Perhaps to ease your passing, but never mind, I shall leave him to die in peace. Come on men!" He walked out of the bushes back into the camp and walked over to Jaime who was staring at some arrows that were sticking out the wrong way.... "Good spot friend. However, it's probably just the Wolfskins trying to fight off." Turning around he mounted the horse and just as he did so a jab of pain shot through his back like wildfire, for about half a second his entire back was in pure agony. He muttered something in the ancient language, his men assuming it was a curse of some sort and sat upright fine. "Men, back on your horses. We've wasted enough time here. I want to get to Cytringham before nightfall."

English Bill

Brynjolf's head spun, his plan had failed horribly and instead of having one man to shield him from the other he was suddenly faced with the blade of a sword. He tried to step back but the axeman blocked his retreat and he was groggy from the blow to his head.
The sword narrowly missed his face but cut into his chest, drawing blood and burning with pain.
Fighting the daze and new pain as best he could, Brynjolf dropped his own swords, took hold of his attackers wrist and pulled him in. Attempting to drive the attacker's own sword into the axeman behind while taking him to the ground.

It was clear that he was out classed and they had the better of him in combat but he wasn't going to go down easily.

Lord Regal

Campfire Guardian
Having expected more resistance, Drake laughed. "Can't even take a bit of a shock? You aren't as tough as you give yourselves credit for!" He turned towards Brynjolf to see the friendly Chasind wasn't doing anywhere near as well. To make matters worse, he was so close to his opponents the alchemist couldn't risk using lightning...odds were he'd hit all of them. Alchemic fire wasn't an option either, as the radius was too large. He'd definitely hit Brynjolf with that. The only options he had were to engage the duo via melee, or use his last resort weapon...neither one was a good choice. He'd already seen melee wasn't a smart option against these nimble folk, and the beam would sap his strength, not to mention almost certainly triggering the curse again. "Damn it...I hate fighting in situations where I can't do anything positive...alchemy may be stronger than base magic, but it's more of a specialized branch."

Brynjolf then pulled the swordsman down with him, preventing the hostile Chasind from killing him. This left the axe-wielding attacker open for a blast of electricity, which Drake was all too happy to supply. Assuming this took out the man, the leader would still be up, and Drake figured Brynjolf's honor would dictate he be the one to finish the swordsman. The alchemist would make sure it was a fair fight, though...none of the other Chasind were going to interfere...he'd be sure of it.


Name: Busana Grifyth
Gender: Female
Age: 32
Occupation: Leader of the Red Rose Assassins

Equipment: Jar of Lamp Black, Mortar & Pestle, Rope and Grapple, Empty Jars, Wineskin, Traveling Clothes, Hooded Cloak, Short Sword, Chasind Blade, Hand Crossbow & Quarrels.

Description: Busana is attractive to most people. Her smooth skin and sharp facial features hail from the Talmnh Bui
gentry, but her dark green eyes, tribal tattoos, and black glossy hair betray her background with the Chasind savages of the north. Her hair is extremely long, and tied into a thick intricately braided top knot with several gold ornaments woven throughout. She dresses in clothing that suits her purpose, and allows for freedom of movement.

Biography: Busana Grifyth is the result of one of the border raids into the Talmnh Bui territory. Her mother, a minor noble's daughter, was taken as a prize by her father who was a ferocious chieftain of one of the Chasind tribes. Her mother died giving birth to her, and she was raised by her father and his most trusted witch. She learned hunting, tracking, stealth, and fighting from her father. She learned herbalism and sorcery from his witch. She became a Chasind Wraith, one of the most feared of the Chasind savages. Nighttime stories, meant to stay frightened children in their beds, spoke of the Wraiths as solitary creatures who hunt the nights, preying upon the unsuspecting and enemies of the Chasind.

This was not too far off the truth, as the Wraiths were the scouts and assassins of the Chasind. Busana's father was killed in a raid, and per custom, she became the spoils of war for the enemy. By this time, she was a gilded adult of the Chasind, as indicated by the gold rather than silver ornamentation, and she escaped at her earliest convenience. She joined an assassins' guild in Foxwith, a massive city in Franziskan, where she learned to read, and the arts of investigation, intimidation, and the seedier sides of the underbelly of crime. She succeeded on a mission in Talmnh Bui, but was betrayed by the thieves' guild and subsequently caught. She escaped the hangman's noose via trickery, and was approached by Victris, a Sentinel who recognized her talents. He played upon her subtle feelings of patriotism from her mother's side, saved her from further persecution for her past crimes, and she has been a loyal member of the Sentinels for the past several years.

What exactly happened to Busana during the Rise of the Sentinels is mostly rumor and vague. The last any of the Sentinels saw her was the fateful night Ragnar and she parted ways on a dual mission they had agreed upon. Busana brought along Matheld, a failed assassin who belonged to Lucien. The mage Mark recalled seeing Matheld briefly during his own adventure, and that was the last time Busana's name had been spoken to any knowing her.

Busana and Matheld did continue on their own mission, after failing at killing Khal Rhayder. The long seeded hatred between Lucien and Busana was finally resolved through his demise several months after a tantalizing game of cat and mouse. Their adventure continued, as Busana decided not to return to the Sentinels, and instead chose a new path as leader of the Red Rose Assassins.

Under her leadership, with Matheld as her Lieutenant, the Red Rose Assassins continued at what they did best. The underlying corruption and brutality faded quickly, after several very messy abject lessons within the ranks, until the Red Rose became a truly efficient killing organization. The Red Rose Assassins became lesser known and feared by the general populace. Only the enemies of Red Rose, much like the enemies of the Chasind wraiths need worry about that which might go bump in the night.

Strength 2 Dexterity 4 Stamina 2
Charisma 1 Manipulation 2 Appearance 3
Perception 3 Intelligence 3 Wits 4

Alertness 4 (2) Athletics 2 Dodge 1 Intimidation 3 Leadership 2 (4) Streetwise 3
Tracking 3 Shooting 1 Melee Small 4 Stealth 5 Discipline 1
Academics 1 Herbalist 3 Investigation 2 Sorcery 3 (2) Linguistics 1


Busana sat at a work table, busily scratching a response to an urgent message from a cell in Talamh Bui. She shook her head and paused. She said, "Matheld. After five years, you'd think you'd have learned you're never going to sneak up on me." She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of her lieutenant and grinned. Matheld had changed well over the years they had known each other. Though she was of the northlands, she looked all the else a Chasind Wraith. At the urging of Busana, Metheld had grown her blond hair long, and fashioned it into an intricately braided topknot that matched her mistress's, and she favored the clothing of the wraith. Utilitarian leathers and a green hooded cloak. Though Busana still thought of the woman as her apprentice, and had not yet granted her release from that relationship; she accepted the woman as her closest friend.

Busana knew Matheld probably would kill her in an instant, given the chance; but Busana had long ago decided that wasn't going to happen any time soon. She watched the woman relax and move up alongside her. Busana returned her attention to the message and shook her head. She muttered, "It's no good Matheld. Things are unraveling all over, and while I know we could all part ways and live out somewhere obscure... I keep having this nagging feeling I should be doing more. It's the past I tell you. Old Victris has been gone these last what... two winters? It made it easy to remove myself from any obligations to my past, and yet it still haunts me."

Busana raised her left arm and absently massaged the scarred flesh of her hand, which only pained her in winter and during rainfalls now. She stared at the parchment and said, "I think it might be time to let the Reds go about their business for the time being and rise again." She looked up at her lieutenant and raised her eyebrows.

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"So what do you reckon Galen do you think they would do?"
Galen paused before replying; "Yeah, I think they'll do quite nicely." The pair watched as the battle drew closer to it's conclusion.
A battle alchemist and a Chasind warrior, two apt, skilled opponents.
It would be a strong group if the pair were recruited.


The Chasind
There was a yelp of pain as the sword skated across the axeman’s ribs only his quick reactions saving him from being skewered through his middle.
With the exile having pulled him to the floor the bearded man released his grip on his now bloodied sword in order grab the mans throat instead, as his other hand tried to ward off the blows being delivered to him with mixed success. Using his superior weight to his advantage the bearded man begins to slowly and inexorably roll the exile onto his back in the hope of pinning him in place where once in position it would be easy for him to long to draw the dirk from his belt and plunge it into the mans heart ending the blood feud for good.

With one hand clapped against the shallow but painful wound in his side the axeman only narrowly avoids the crackling stream of lightning, exploding just to his right.
Quickly working out what had already happened to his other tribe mates he races towards the alchemist hoping to render his magic's ineffective by getting in close as he swings his axe in long sweeping arc that leaves a long shiny scar upon the mans armour but nothing more.
Stepping back to avoid any counter blow he once again launches himself at the alchemist with an overhead blow designed to crack open the both helmet and skull.
With the fight drawing to a close; two out of the four combatants already down and crawling away Cesare nodded with agreement at Galen’s assessment before speaking "Good then we'd better go and help our new friends out before the town guards arrive" drawing the long narrow bladed sword from its scabbard Cesare casually strolls towards the melee keeping an eye out for the aforementioned guards who had surely been summoned by now. It would probably mean that they would have to be brisk with the negotiations and then leave town immediately in order to avoid either being arrested and thrown into the makeshift jail or killed on sight as the case may be…you didn’t keep the peace in a place like Cytringham by being nice.
"You'll never find them you know!" the Wolfskin bellowed in a rasping voice "...there were forty of us and they slaughtered us like cattle...climbed over the cliffs and appeared like god damn ghosts!" Looking over towards Ben as they started to leave Jaime threw his lord a worried glance "You don't think they really are ghosts do you?" the boy was young and although he had seen plenty of battle during the course of the war and then during his service with Ben there was still a youthful naivety about him.
Shaking off any images of ghosts lurking in amongst the surrounding trees; for surely no ordinary band of men could have performed such slaughter to such a powerful warband as the Wolfskins, Jaime mounts his horse asking Ben as he does “So what’s our plan Lord?”
"Maybe one day my mistress" Matheld replied with a slight chuckle unsure as to how she had been detected as she had been so careful only to give it up as a lost cause for now, though she promised herself that one day she would get the drop on her even if it was only to pat her cheek in jest.
At twenty four Matheld had matured somewhat since the first time she had met Busana as an apprentice manipulated and abused at the hands of her former master Lucien a man who still haunted her dreams on occasion despite having died at her mistresses hands five years back.
Tossing the long golden braid over her right shoulder with a casual flick she silently glides across the room to carefully pour herself a glass of red wine with practiced ease despite the eye patch she wore.
Moving to stand beside the older assassin she sips the wine as she listens to her speak raising a single well manicured eyebrow in response "Rise again? want to rejoin the do you know that any of them still live?" caught up in their own personal vendetta against Lucien and then the subsequent take over of the Red Rose assassins the pair of them had managed to avoid the war almost entirely. Yet despite this apparent isolation Matheld had heard the stories told about the battles around the Black gate and the fall of Rithe Halla with all of its occupants slaughtered without mercy causing her to wonder how anybody could have survived such atrocities "If it is your wish to rejoin them then I will willingly follow you my mistress only..." Matheld bit her lip in consternation unsure about the act of rebellion she about to perform against somebody that she considered to be the older sister she'd never had "...well...we have worked so hard for what we have achieved it wise for us to throw it all away for a kingdom that no longer exists?" the young assassin stood anxiously as she awaited her mistress' response unsure of how she would react, though it was true that neither of them owed Talamh Bui any form of allegiance after all she was from the Daggers far to the north and her mistress was a Chasind, neither of whom could be considered friends of the old kingdom.
She shifted awkwardly for a few moments before speaking once again "While I think about it that other business we discussed…it has been done" she spoke quietly wishing to fill the silence that had followed her statement as she quickly rifled about her person before producing a signet ring with a reddish brown stain and placing it upon the table as a sign of another job well done.

English Bill

Brynjolf could feel the bearded man trying to roll him and used it to his advantage. He resisted just long enough for his opponent to put all his strength into the attempt and then, suddenly releasing his tension and actively aiding the roll, Brynjolf sent both of them a full 360, bringing Brynjolf back to the top just long enough to take hold of the bearded mans hair and drive the back of his head into the hard ground.

Lord Regal

Campfire Guardian
"Damn you!" Drake cursed as the axeman left a long scratch on his armor. "Do you realize how hard it's going to be to fix that?" The good news was it hadn't hit any of the jewels...however, one of the lines connecting them had been marred, meaning the protection against the curse was weakened for the moment. All he could do was hope it didn't activate before he fixed it.

Now angry, he set his axe aflame with a burst from his staff, the metal having been imbued with fire-resistant properties for such an occasion. The man made a huge lunge with his axe, trying to finish the fight in one blow. However, as with most such blows, he had left himself wide open for a counterattack, and this the alchemist did, swinging upward with his own axe, the combination of the razor-sharp edge and the blazing flames allowing him to slice through the incoming weapon's handle, leaving his assailant holding a useless stick of wood. "Didn't they tell you at warrior school?" he mocked, swinging his axe at the dumbfounded Chasind's neck. "Never, ever underestimate an opponent...particularly when you know nothing about them."


Busana grinned at the parchment she was writing on as she heard just the right amount of longing hint in her apprentice's tone in response to being caught again. Some day Matheld would figure out how Busana always caught her. Until then, the game continued. She glanced sideways toward Matheld as she crossed the room, and returned her attention to the quill hovering over the parchment and her own inner thoughts about what she had shared.

Busana frowned as Matheld asked if she was considering rejoining the Sentinels, but said nothing as she listened and heard what Matheld was bravely stating to her. At its most base message, was Matheld defying her in a round about way. She shifted her quill to her right hand and raised her scarred left hand to her mouth, rubbing it gently over her lips as she continued to think. She looked toward the trinket Matheld placed on the table, and nodded. The mission she'd given to Matheld was important for the assassins, and probably deserved praise for its completion, but she gave none. Matheld knew she was held in high regard and wasn't in constant need of praise for her formidable ability. Busana accepted it as a subtle peace offering in exchange for the gentle sting she'd just received from defiance. Matheld was growing faster than she probably realized she was.

Busana sighed, dropped her quill into the small pot of ink she'd been dipping it occasionally in prior to Matheld's arrival, and turned in her chair to face the woman. She leaned back against the straight back of the chair and folded her hands across her sternum as she studied the woman quietly. She ultimately shook her head and responded, "No. I have no intention of rejoining the Sentinels. They are extinct as far as I know, or should be. The fall of Talamh Bui would only occur through their fall first. I admit I didn't necessarily keep tabs on any of them, the only one I truly cared for and respected has been gone these five long years." Busana's eyes focused on nothing as she thought back to the news of Ragnar's loss, before snapping back into the immediate conversation.

She shook her head and said, "Make no mistake my friend... this scourge that wiped Talamh Bui won't stop with that. We're all on the block. It's only a question of when the axe falls. We are meant for shadows. It's our nature, and our advantage to this very kind of situation. The Reds can function without us for quite some time... without me... if you choose to stay." Busana left that last comment hang for a few appropriate moments before adding, "Not that I'm releasing you from your commitment." She grinned and added, "I'd hate for you to think you were done already after all. It's just... this really isn't a forward path for our organization. This one is a bit more personal, and I can't force you to accompany me on this one. I can't say even I know what honestly motivates this desire from me."

Busana frowned thoughtfully and shook her head as she said, "I think we can make a difference. We've taken our whole lives. I'm not saying it's time to give back, but I think if we... if I fail to act in the best capacity I know... it won't ultimately matter what we've done, can do, or will do. There's going to be nothing left to take. We have a very spread out, underground organization that's loyal to us. The others... those that fled the incursion into Talamh Bui will have to mount a defense or offense sooner or later, and we have an organized intelligence net at our command."

The older assassin steepled her fingertips and continued to watch the younger assassin's reactions to what she was saying as she added, "I think we could alter our business. Secrets sometimes pay much more than death, and you have to at least agree the challenge is at the least intriguing. Who can't you kill now?" She grinned and added, "Besides me, of course?"
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"You don't think they really are ghosts do you?" Jaime asked, in an almost worried voice making Ben chuckle and then reply
"They do exist, or so we're told, but they are rarely harmful. And a pack of ghosts all out to get the Wolfskins, no.... this sounds like we've got another band of mercenaries on our hand. Hopefully they won't pillage but rather protect." There was a final sentence which he left off, he wasn't going to mention the Sidhe, because there was no point, it would just frighten the men and the Wolfskin would have known and told them if the attackers were Sidhe.
“So what’s our plan Lord?”
"I want to get to Cytringham by nightfall, I've heard a rumour that another sentinel is there and I want to pay him a visit if he is." He had wondered how Galen and the others had been doing and so of course when he had heard that there was a master thief in Cytringham who would do almost any work for the right price and wore a metal face mask, it sounded a lot like what Ben remembered of Galen. Raising his voice he shouted to everyone "I want to be at least out of this forest if not in Cytringham by nightfall, if we get there I'll find us a good place to sleep and we'll do our business tomorrow morning, that means I want use to go as fast as possible." and kicking Lightning he shot off out of the camp at a canter (to help keep the horses not as tired) with everyone following behind him.
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Galen nodded to Cesare and moved towards the fight, drawing his sword just in case.
His eyes watched as the battle alchemist swung his axe at his opponent's neck.
As the fight ended, Galen strode towards the pair of survivors. "Oi, you two!" He called out. The remark made somewhat more sinister by his mouthguard.
"My friend here has a proposition for you." He said, gesturing to Cesare to explain.


A fine red spray coated the dirt road as the axeman’s head parted company form his body before coming to rest a short distance away, blood pooling around the body at the alchemist's feet.
With the bearded man laying upon the ground unconscious from the savage blow to the back of his head it was clear that the fight was over as the two combatants returned to their feet moments before hearing Galen's call.
"You will have to forgive my friend his manners are not what they could be" the tall Ascenti man said with an easy smile returning his long slender blade to its scabbard as he approached the two men not wishing to alarm them with his sudden appearance.
"My name is Cesare Frusciante and this is Galen" he spoke gesturing to the thief behind him as he stopped a short distance away from Drake and Brynjolf "now as my friend here just pointed out I would like to make the pair of you an offer...I am heading down to the border countries, Dunnoc to be exact in search of a friend of mine whose gone missing and could do with somebody possessing your obvious talents to join me" in the distance Cesare could just about make out the sound of running men accompanied by the shouting of officers and so decided to waste no further time "It would appear the guards have gotten wind of your little fracas so I will have to cut things short here, if you're willing to join me then follow me otherwise I would suggest you leave here guards don't take well to street fighting and murder" his dark eyes momentarily dropping to the headless body in the middle of the street before once again looking back up at the two men "Well gentlemen I must bid you farewell" without waiting for either of them to reply Cesare quickly turns around and starts heading for the gates knowing that any man with a sword caught near here would have to answer some pretty serious questions.
The going was understandably slow as the group of horsemen first negotiated their way back down the narrow stream bed and then through the thick undergrowth back towards where they believed the road would be.
“I can smell smoke my lord” Jaime spoke quietly drawing alongside of Ben and from the way some of the others within the group acted it was clear that he wasn’t the only one who could pick up the scent of burning wood upon the wind.
Breaking out from amongst the trees and back onto the rolling countryside of the Chasind wilds Jaime brought up his arm to point out the small pillar of smoke in the distance “Over there my lord…looks too big to be campfire should we check it out?” it would take them off of their route to Cytringham though they should be able to reach the smoke before nightfall if they so desired.
Relieved that her mistress held no grudge towards her small act of rebellion she listened as she spoke sipping from her wine as she did so quietly relieved that her mistress had no desire to rejoin the Sentinels but instead intended something rather more ambitious.
“You know I am not ready to run them by myself…not after last time” she spoke shaking her head at Busana’s suggestion that she could remain with the Red Roses if she so desired.
Although her homicidal tendencies had been dampened during her time with the other assassin she was still prone to the occasional outburst; the last one being when she had been twenty one. She had been young and so much in love with the young man only to have him break her heart so she had broken his in a more literal sense; the subsequent punishment she had received from Busana had been harsh and rightly so as a rogue assassin was liable to bring them all down.
A smile began to play about Matheld’s lips as she began to fully grasp the full extent of her mistress’ scheme “Espionage? Now that would be interesting” she quietly spoke to herself, her fingertips gently tapping the stem of her wine glass as she thought it through.
She had pretty much hit the nail on the head when she’d asked who she couldn’t kill, Matheld was pretty much on the top of her game even the rings former owner hadn’t taxed her abilities too much “Well there are always the gods but your right the challenge is gone and…and I’d never dream of trying to kill you Busana” she said the last words lightly as if in jest though the look of hurt in the girls eyes at her mistress’ suggestion she may wish to harm her showed that was far from the case.
Momentarily turning away form her mistress to place the now empty wine glass next the decanter using the small space of time to make her decision “So where do we start my mistress?”


Ben sat there and thought for about half a minute, what with the time they had lost going through the forest they probably wouldn't reach Cytringham before nightfall anyway, however, he still didn't want to be outside of the large town for that long after dark. Giving into his curiosity he ordered the horses to turn towards the smoke plume. "We'll go as fast as possible, I don't want to spend too much time in the wilds after dark, unless of course it is another shelter." Kicking his horse into a gallop he rode off towards the smoke plume making sure the others were following at a good speed.

English Bill

Brynjolf listened to the newcomers words but his attention was on the deep gash across his chest. He would have to stitch it and it would certainly scar but at least he was alive.

When the guards began to appear he turned his attention away from the cut, retrieved his swords and turned to Drake. 'Shall we go?'

Lord Regal

Campfire Guardian
Drake turned as a masked figure and a one armed man came up to Brynjolf and himself, requesting their services on a job. Brynjolf had been rather seriously injured, but appeared to be doing alright. "Heh, if it'll get me out of this thrice-blasted city, I'll be glad to help," he chuckled, his helmet causing the sound to echo. The incoming guards rushed the newcomers into leaving, and Drake hurried after them, wondering how he'd fix the mar in his armor...if the curse flared up again before it was repaired, it'd have far more power than it had when Brynjolf had watched. And while the alchemist had survived several rounds of the dark magic at full force before he had obtained the protection, that had been early enough it hadn't done too much...he wasn't sure if it'd be so kind now.