Alix and Devinn meet Eduardo and discover the Blood Cult

Sticky's Coffee House This is a quiet little coffee house and cafe. The full rich aroma of a blend of all kinds of coffee fills the air. The place is kept very neat by the hostess Gabrielle, who never seems to stop bustling about and fussing over her customers. There is a counter on the west wall, behind which is a huge, bronze cappuccino machine, in addition to a number of coffee pots and tea kettles, all perking away. Above the counter is a sign titled 'MENU'. The tables are round, white and are each supported by a black iron post, patterned after vines that branch in four directions when they meet the floor. In addition to the tables in the building, there are also tables through the wide doorway, out on the veranda. Gabrielle offers you a smile. Contents: Devinn Alix Obvious exits: Out

Devinn Although he appears to be in his mid-twenties, there is a weariness in Devinn's pale green eyes that suggests experience. His tall, thin frame is topped by a shock of sable hair which spills over his high forehead in touseled bangs. A softly angled nose and prominent cheekbones preside over a thin-lipped mouth, all too ready to grin.

A forest green surcoat tied in a loose, hanging knot separates vertically, revealing a shirt of dull mail, graced only by a small shield over the left breast. Mud brown jodhpurs are held at his hips by a wide black belt, and terminate just over a pair of ankle-high black leather boots. An unadorned sabre hangs, workmanlike, at his left side, and a slim steel dagger at the right.

Alix Tall, not quite reaching six-one, lean and broad-shouldered with long strong calloused hands. Hair of glossy black on the edge of blue, with a slight wave, chopped off thick and even just below her shoulderline. A slightly angular face, elegant bone structure, arching black brows. Deep brilliant eyes more blue than green are framed by thick black lashes. Wide generous mouth. She wears a soft white blouse, low-cut, full sleeves gathered into snug cuffs at her wrists. Vest, tight-laced, of rich deep-blue brocade. Long full black trousers tucked neatly into glossy riding boots. Diamonds flash cold from the ring-finger of her left hand, a solitaire and a band of smaller jewels. Wears a swordbelt, black, plain. A Kashfan sabre, its dark-steel hilt chased elaborate silver, hangs at her left side.

Eduardo His dark eyes stare mournfully at a point somewhere beyond the horizon, and his aquiline nose gives his face an air of bronze tanned nobility. His dark, curly hair is bound together with an ancient silver claps in the nape of his nekc, his ponytail reaches till somewhere between his shoulder blades. His voice is a deep bariton, his Thari is coloured with a Kashfan accent. He is dressed in tight black trousers and a black bolero jacket, both heavily embroidered with silver, as is the wide rimmed hat taht dances on his back. A bright red silk shirt opens to show a tuft of dark breast hair and a small silver unicorn on a slender chain.

Alix is sipping contentedly from a huge steaming mug, and flipping through a stack of papers at her table.

Devinn paces quietly through the crowd towards Alix' table. "I've tethered the horses, M'Lady."

Alix smiles up to Devinn, and nudges one of the chairs at her table out with a foot. "Take a seat, will you? And thanks, Dev."

Eduardo enters Sticky's. His gaze rests on Alix, and after observing her for a while, he slowly walks into her general direction.

Devinn grips the ladderback, and seats himself, swinging his scabbard under the table. Devinn sits down at the Coffee table in the far corner.

Alix calmly makes notations on her papers with a slender pen. Maps, some of them, others are just indecipherable tangles of legalese.

Eduardo has reached Alix and Devinn's table and bows. He murmurs "Lady Teanthari, I believe?"

Devinn squints up at the menu, a pondering finger tapping his chin. He turns to Eduardo's voice and appraises the fellow.

A pause. Alix's chin cants, as she lifts her gaze to Eduardo, her expression cool and neutral. "I am."

A quick smile flashes. "Eduardo Quatrani, at your service. You may be familiar with my family name."

A black brow arches, punctuation to Alix's face; faint curve to her lips. "Pleased to meet you, sir. Can I be of service?"

Another smile. "It is I who might be of service to you, precious Lady." He makes a questioning gesture in the direction of one of the empty seats at the table.

Devinn's bland expresssion momentarily ripples with a faint frown.

Alix's head inclines, politely, to one of the free chairs.

Eduardo says "I thank you, fair lady." And he takes the offered seat.

You sit down at the Coffee table in the far corner.

At your table, Alix rests her elbow on the table, her pen poised between two fingers, her papers abandoned and ignored (and face-down). "I'm flattered by your interest," she says quietly, gravely.

Devinn catches Gabrielle's elbow with a figertip as she passes. "Cappuccino, please. And whatever the gentleman here would like."

At your table, Eduardo chuckles. "Believe me, a woman of your beauty would always attract my interest. But since you're married, I can only use business as a legitimate excuse to be near to you." He glances at Gabrielle, and nods to Devinn's suggestion. "Capuccino is fine with me, also."

At your table, Alix replies, lightly, "Very married indeed." She lifts her mug, taking a sip, and quirks an inquisitive brow.

Gabrielle bustles back behind the counter, pausing only to tuck a stray lock behind an ear.

At your table, Eduardo says "Ah, I see my excuse is even needed. Well, what can I say else than that I may be able to assist you in your quest."

At your table, one of Devinn's knuckles cracks from his lap. A brittle sound.

At your table, "Quest." Amusement ripples over Alix's features. "You're a real-estate agent?" Her eyes, though, are steady and cool.

At your table, Eduardo smiles. "Dear Lady, we Quatrani sell everything, even real estate if such would be your desire. But little birds told us that was not your only purpose in coming to Begma."

The cappuccino machine goes 'Sssshhhhqqqqqquuuuuuussh!' Twice, under Gabrielle's ministrations.

At your table, Alix's lips curve, slow, almost involuntary. "Nor was tourism." She sets down her mug, one long finger tapping its smooth flank.

At your table, Eduardo says "You have, of course, the right to be wary, but are we not fellow Kashfans in a dark and dangerous place? We ought to stick together in such matters."

At your table, Alix lets out a slow breath, and all amusement drains from her features. "What matter did your birds inform you of?" she asks, quiet, simple.

At your table, Eduardo leans over, closer to her face, and lowers his voice. "Bodies, dear lady. Death and mutilation. Not a comfortable subject for a capuccino, but nevertheless, we cannot ignore the facts, can we?"

At your table, Alix's cool dark eyes are locked with Eduardo's. A moment passes, and she nods, once. "Revolution would profit no one at the present, would it."

Gabrielle returns with two fussily prepared mugs. Cinnamon speckles the froths of fresh cream bobbing within. She sets them down and flits to another table.

At your table, Devinn creaks back in his chair, arms crossing his chest. A certain proximity appears to displease him.

At your table, Eduardo leans back, rewarding Gabrielle with one of his flashing smiles, then continues towards Alix and Devinn "Indeed it would not. There has been martial law in this city for long enough now. The weapons market is exhausted." He seems coolly amused by Devinns displeasure.

At your table, Alix says simply, "That, at least, is not my business. I have other matters to pursue, as you know - though it seems they fringe upon larger issues." Her hands are still upon the tabletop.

At your table, Eduardo nods. "We are here to offer our alliance in this matter. It would be ill-mannered of us to let a beautiful lady like yourself, and one allied with one of our main suppliers, go unaided."

At your table, Alix's voice is gentle and precise. "And why decline an opportunity to clear up a difficulty, yes?" A long finger taps, once. "We have common cause," she says finally. "Tell me how I may help you, and you me."

At your table, Eduardo says "How far have your investigations taken you so far?"

At your table, Devinn glances sidelong at Alix over his upturned mug, cautious and sharp, but remains quiet.

At your table, Alix speaks, flat and evenly. "I've spoken to one of the people who assisted at the - " A pause. "Who looked at the remains. I find the violence of the deaths an interesting contrast with the professionalism of the cleanup job, and the lack of an actual -location- for the murders. Beyond that..." She spreads her hands.

At your table, Eduardo places his fingertips together and looks over them, his dark eyes narrowing for a moment. "They are amateurs, believe me. And of the worst possible sort, I'm afraid."

At your table, Alix leans back, very slightly in her chair. "Amateurs in the habit of hacking people up are usually dangerous," she says drily. "No rules. Unpredictable." She considers, then asks, carefully, "Fanatics. Religion, nationalism?" A brow quirks.

At your table, Devinn suggests, "Terrorist, perhaps?" through a puff of steam from his beverage. well, less radiant of course. "That too seems to be part of it."

At your table, Eduardo smiles "All this, and brains too. Yes, dear Lady. A bit of it all." He nods to Devinn as well, less radiant of course. "That too seems to be part of it."

At your table, Alix's expression is even, though her mouth tightens slightly. "That does make them dangerous, yes. Is there a specific motivation...?"

At your table, Eduardo says "Of course there is. They call themselves the Begma Blood Cult. They combine a vigilante attitude with terrorism and the urge to preach the revolution. And unfortunately, they are no ordinarily criminals, or it would be far easier to deal with them."

At your table, Alix says softly, "It seems we -do- have a common goal, then. These folk are a danger to Kashfa...." A thoughtful pause. "And somehow I doubt that the local authorities are going to be able to do anything about it." Faint smile. "Unless perhaps the entire situation is dumped into their laps and they find that they -must-."

At your table, Eduardo shakes his head regretfully. "Forget about the local authorities. They are -so- corrupt, even we can buy them."

At your table, Devinn's jaw works as he processes the information. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

At your table, Alix allows herself a flicker of a chuckle, a deep brief rumble of amusement. "So it's up to the professionals to deal with it." She rests her chin in the palm of her hand. "I must confess, I remain a little confused as to my possible role in this; I can only ask questions." Faint dry edge to her voice.

At your table, Eduardo says lightly "Oh, I shouldn't think so... you see, our standing with the Begman and Kashfan government is of course a bit problematic. You are quite useful, I assure you. Who wouldn't believe an innocent and beautiful Lady of Kashfa, should she find out crucial information to bring down the Cult? However," his voice sounds a bit more dark now "there are dangers, I cannot deny that."

At your table, Alix regards Eduardo with the calm of a statue, a Roman goddess. "Ah. I can play messenger. Nevertheless, we still need to bring them proof. And getting that, there is the danger, no?"

At your table, Eduardo drains his cup of capuccino. "Yes, there is. It will not do for us to bring it to you, without you verifying. And it is very hard for us to come near the cult also. We cannot infiltrate. We must bring the witness in a position where she can determine, and if possible, find a lead to the who and what." He glances at Alix. "You look like you can handle a bit of danger. I hope this is more than fancy dressing."

At your table, Alix says, quietly, "The blade is for use, not ornament." Momentary darkness in her eyes. "So long as you don't send me charging headlong into a touchy situation alone."

At your table, Devinn clears his throat and stiffens, one hand trailing to his own pommel. "That won't be a concern, M'Lady."

At your table, Alix blinks. Her eyes flick to Devinn, and her lips curve for a moment. "No. No, I don't suppose it will be."

At your table, Eduardo says "We'll leave the charging to the cavalry, Lady. They are too noisy for my taste, and we may go where discretion offers better roads." He glances at Devinn, appraisingly, then nods. "That is, if you will have me as a guide.""

At your table, Alix studies Eduardo for a moment. A hand strays to her tea-mug, lifts it, and she grimaces - it has long since gone cold. "When," she says, "and where?"

Devinn gathers Gabrielle close as she passes, apron crumpled in his hand. "More Tea for the Lady." He capitalizes the title with a lift of his rasping voice.

At your table, Eduardo says "If you are a quick decider, tonight would be best... there is a meeting in the village of Barnesque, not far from the capital. We acquired this information from one of our more unlucky ... clients. My proposal is to attend the meeting, but not as members, and study all we can about them. It requires nerves. A bit of luck. And silent death, if necessary. Not ours, I hope."

At your table, Alix sits in silence for a time, fingers interlaced, eyes distant. Finally she nods. "That," she says quietly, "will serve. The three of us?"

Gabrielle frowns, smoothes her uniform, and fetches a piping hot mug. She returns to place it gingerly in front of Alix.

Alix absently unfolds her hands, and wraps one around the mug.

At your table, Eduardo nods. "More would be imprudent. Three can make it, and help each other out if things go wrong."

At your table, Alix lifts her mug for a slow sip. She gazes across the table through the steam from her tea. "Then we shall." Her voice is low but firm. "This cannot be tolerated."

At your table, Devinn frowns at his attire, and over to Alix. "We won't blend in well like this. Perhaps we can find some more suitable coverings?"

At your table, Alix smiles a bit. "Got it covered, I think." She arches a brow to Eduardo. "Shall we dress as locals, or is it not worth the bother?"

At your table, Eduardo glances at him, amused. "I'm sure something can be arranged if you didn't happen to bring something dark along. Remove jewellery that may catch the light."

At your table, Alix flexes her left hand, once.

At your table, Eduardo says "As I recall you have horses near. It will serve for transportation to Barnesque."

At your table, Alix says gently, "Then shall we call a recess until tonight?"

At your table, Eduardo says "Meet me at seven, outside the gate. I do not expect them to start before nine."

At your table, Alix inclines her head, polite, grave. "Until then. I thank you, sir.

At your table, Devinn stands stiffly in his seat. "Sir."

At your table, Eduardo raises, and inclines his head politely do Devinn, while offering Alix another radiant smile, ready to kiss her hand if she allows him near it, "My pleasure."

At your table, Alix quirks a brow, and politely offers her right hand to Eduardo.

At your table, Eduardo presses his lips to it and then quickly leaves their company.

At your table, Devinn chews on his lower lip, but wills a diplomatic grin on his features.

You stand and leave the Coffee table in the far corner.

** Later, at night, outside the city gates

Fields of Begma A warm breeze gently sways the tall grasses of the Begman fields, and it carries with it the sweet flavour of wildflowers. Looking down you notice some colorful clusters that are the source of the fragrance. This looks like the perfect place to lie down and relax... maybe even nap. To the north, up a small incline, dwells a proud white church. The constant hum of millions of invisible insects washes over the area quietly. Contents: Devinn Alix Obvious exits: Across the River Margora Estate Harbor

As Alix and Devinn leave the light of the Gate behind, and approach the darkness, a soft voice creeps up on them from the surrounding darkness. "Good evening, my Lady, sir."

Alix Tall, not quite reaching six-one, lean and broad-shouldered with long strong calloused hands. Hair of glossy black on the edge of blue, with a slight wave, chopped off thick and even just below her shoulderline. A slightly angular face, elegant bone structure, arching black brows. Deep brilliant eyes more blue than green are framed by thick black lashes. Wide generous mouth. She wears black. Unrelieved. Turtleneck, tight-fitted pants with deep buttoned pockets. The jacket is heavy leather and bulky, shoulders and forearms reinforced with dark riveted metal. Boots, quick-laced, toes capped with blued steel. Her hair is smoothly raked back into a neat ponytail. Wears a swordbelt, black, plain. A Kashfan sabre, its dark-steel hilt chased elaborate silver, hangs at her left side.

The massive grey mare on which Alix is perched snorts, craning her neck. Her rider is unruffled. "Sir," she replies.

Both of Devinn's hands cross him in an instant, but his blades remain sheathed as he recognizes the tone.

After a few moments, Eduardo comes close enough to be recognized, holding the reins of a slender black stallion. His silver unicorn and hair clasp are sadly missing, and he is now wearing his hat on top of his head.

Devinn mutters something, not very polite, about scaring folk, and re-takes Pepper's reins. His surcoat, deep green, folds about his mail, allowing only a faint glitter for a close observer.

With a smooth movement, Eduardo is in the saddle and ready to lead the way and whispers "The road to Eregnor. It is the first village, I will tell you when we are close to it."

Alix rests a hand on the broad neck of her mount. "Shall we?" she murmurs. Nothing reflects from her clothes, though here is an occasional dull glint from darkened metal.

Devinn flicks Pepper into motion, her charcoal spots windows into the night. He rides close to Alix, a hoofbeat behind, wary and protective.

Eduardo doesn't even appear to wear armour, undoubtly finding it unwieldy and noisy. He swiftly leads the way, and soon enters a gallop when the city is left behind, and the moon lights the road before him.

Tempest snorts as she rolls into motion, her broad feathered hooves oddly quiet on the road. She stretches out her head and seems to enjoy the gallop, gleaming moon-pale in the darkness.

Nothing stirs on the road, this evening, in the darkness, but for the drumming beat of the hooves on dull sand and grass. Far ahead, to the right, an orange red glow suggests habitation.

Suddenly, Eduardo gives a soft warning cries, and steers his horse to the right, slowing down. Tempest reacts instantly, half-rearing as she stops her own momentum, then setting down her forehooves almost gently.

Pepper skids to a halt in a clot of moonlit dust, her flank almost brushing Tempest's.

The grey mare lowers her head at a touch from Alix, diminishing somehow, going quiet though there is a flash of yellowed teeth.

Devinn guides Pepper under a canopy of pine branches with some effort.

Tempest glides into cover, almost silent, her great head still held low; Alix is bent down over her mount's neck, a dark clinging shadow.

As Eduardo listens to the hoof beats, he covers the nostrils of his horse, and waits in silence for those behind the three to catch up.

A touch on the neck of the grey mare, and Tempest freezes, still and silent.

Several riders are approaching...

Alix all but holds her breath, a gloved hand resting lightly on the pommel of her sabre. Devinn clings to Pepper like an ill-fitting suit; the beast below him is aware, but quiet.

They storm past. A ray of moonlight reveals their heads to be covered with hoods. Eduardo stands completely still, not making any sound at all.

Silence from the mare and her mount, statues in the darkness.

Devinn and Pepper blend into the darkened shelter of the trees, four small trunks leading upwards to the shadows.

Finally, when the sound of the other horses slowly dies, Eduardo sighs and mutters in a low voice "Well, my information was right, and we need to hurry, if we want to catch them. But careful.. they may have spotted us, and posted guards.

A low murmur, barely a whisper on the wind. "Then let's go." Tempest unlocks, lifting her head.

Eduardo whispers "Let's leave the horses here and go by foot. We can't take them much further anyway."

Devinn scissors a leg over Pepper and vaults to the ground. He's at Tempest's side in an instant, offering an arm.

Alix pats the mare's neck, almost ruefully. She accepts Devinn's arm and swings herself down, a shadow silhouetted for a moment against silver.

Eduardo, already down, ties his stallion to a tree, and takes a few items out of his saddlebags, one of them being a piece of rope.

Devinn takes the reins of both mares and guides them into the woods. He tethers them loosely to a tree, some distance from the road.

Alix walks light and silent to Eduardo, her face unreadable in the dim light.

Devinn's footfalls break the silence rarely as he pads back to road, following Alix.

Occasionally, he stops, and surveys his surroundings.

Eduardo tries to determine his exact whereabouts, and heads for the orange glow, keeping a firm pace. Occasionally, he stops, and surveys his surroundings.

Alix trots in Eduardo's wake, taking her own bearings. The sound of her passage is slight, her carriage slightly bowed, ready to dive for cover if need be.

Devinn glides alongside Alix, not quite crouching, tense and watchful. He palms his dagger into his left hand, and folds it behind that arm.

Approaching the first dark shapes of the farms around the village, and the orange glow that indicate fires in the village center, Eduardo stops again and listens. This time he doesn't continue but keeps listening and turns to the others and breaths "I hear something... close to us."

A faint nod from Alix. She is still, but seems to fold in upon herself, becoming a dark shapeless lump against the landscape. Crouching.

The dark offers no visual clues, but there seems to be a slight noise to your right. A horse.

Devinn nods quietly and tilts his head into the pitch, truly dropping into a mute crouch. His hand flexes around its contents, twitching.

Eduardo whispers, very close, "How well can either of you move silently?

Alix's voice is barely more than the sound of the breath on her lips. "Passable...but I am...no professional."

Devinn murmurs, "I've done a cat-job or two, in my day. I'm alright."

Eduardo whispers to Alix "Stay behind a bit." To Devinn, "Circle the left, I shall take the right. Whatever it takes to silence him without making a noise."

Devinn steps quietly, albeit slowly, to the left, his thin frame huddled into a blot of shadow. The rider cants onward, unaware of the occaisional muted twig-snap or roll of stone.

The lump that is Alix shifts after a few moments, and glides after Devinn, though more slowly.

Eduardo goes to the right, his shape is swallowed by the darkness.

Devinn's silhoutte against the waning moon approaches a figure standing by a horse, cloaked and watching the other direction. Devinn flattens somewhat, catlike, and draws closer.

The guard does not seem to notice, though his horse suddenly makes a noise. From afar, to Alix and Eduardo, Devinn /can/ just take this guy in the throat, but Dev would prefer another way...

The lump that is Alix goes still, and blends into the landscape.

Devinn solidifies at the sound, cold stone, frozen.

The man starts to turn at the sound his horse makes and his right hand reaches for the blade at his belt, but not really fast, more as in a sudden awareness that something might be amiss.

Devinn springs then, out of the darkness, one hand clamping for the guards mouth, his dagger sweeping at the throat.

The lump that is Alix unfolds a fractional moment later, her hands going for the horse's reins and nose as she almost glides over the ground.

Eduardo quickly approaches, and whispers "I don't think there were more of them around." He glances at the guard to see if the man is sufficiently silenced.

Devinn lowers the body to the ground. A surgical job, despite the speed of the attack. One scarlet incision in the neck, and blank, lolling, still-open eyes.

Alix stands by the horse, one hand gently clamped over its nostrils, soothing. She does not look to the body being gently laid down. "The horse?" she murmurs.

Eduardo says softly "Leave it for now. I'm not sure we can kill it without it making a sound. Let's move on, quickly."

Devinn closes the eyes of the guard, and mumbles under his breath. "One step closer to Hell." He wipes the blade on the man's tunic and stands.

Alix leads the horse a ways from the body, still pinching the nostrils so it doesn't get hysterical at the smell of blood; the animal is already shifting nervously. She looses it, urging it into a walk with the flat of her hand on its rump, then heads back to join you.

Eduardo hisses softly, nearly a chuckle, but doesn't comment and points at the orange glow ahead. "We must find a hiding place nearby..."

Devinn nods, waits for Alix, and takes to her side, scanning the area for natural shelter.

A faint nod from Alix; she scans the landscape, relaxing into her half-crouch again. A tilt of her head indicates a patch of scrub and small twisted trees, inquiring.

As you come nearer, noises and light start to enter the silence of the dark. Eduardo nods at Alix' suggestion, and estimates the best way to go there. He softly whispers "To the right.. I think there is water there, beware. But we should be able to find cover there."

Alix doesn't bother to nod, she simply moves that way, staying low to the ground, each foot set with care.

Sharp and tense, Eduardo moves more silent than ever, nothing more than a shadow in the night as he follows Alix.

Devinn slinks, covering Alix's back, feet avoiding branch and stone with a practiced care. An empty scabbard indicates the readiness of his dagger, but there is no gleam of steel.

Moments tick by, each too long. A faint, faint sucking sound as Alix's foot setles on mud, then pulls slowly free. She fades into the scrub, a stunted tree her cover.

From the shelter, as it is reached safely by all three, the following scene unfolds. In a clearing close to the village, a bonfire is burning brightly. Several men with dark red hood covering their faces hold a man whose hands are tied behind his back. His eyes glance around frantically. Silently watching are a group of Begman villagers.

Alix murmurs, "Who...?" She peers between branches which still cling to some of their leaves.

Devinn's features harden as he views the scene, he twitches forward, but halts, unsure. "M'Lady?" This a barely audible whisper.

Eduardo shakes his head. "I do not know this man," he whispers very softly.

Alix lets out a slow breath. "Yes," she whispers. "Emilio. Damn." A hand gestures to Eduardo. "I know him."

One of the men with hoods adresses the villagers. "People of Begma! We have gathered together here to see justice! Justice that our evil oppressors deny us!" The villagers mutter. Some cheer, others remain silent. The other hooded men, however, touch their weapons lightly, and suddenly more cheers can be heard.

A faint hiss. "Fanatics." An edge of ice to Alix's bare whisper.

Eduardo whispers "Kashfan, no? They mean business..."

Devinn's toes dig into the damp earth, but silently. "Dammit." He spits the hushed words out. He's holding still with obvious effort.

The leader continues. "Remember the Blood we gave for this land! The Blood that has been betrayed by those Serpent possessed vermin from over the mountains. Vermin like this!" He points at Emilio. "Look at him! Look at this rat, stealing your food, taking your jobs!"

The villagers murmur. Agreeing noises can be heard. "He cursed my milking cows!" a woman screams. "He came near them and they stopped giving milk!"

Alix murmurs, "Kashfan, yes." She is still and silent and grim. "Ideas, Dev? We've one stray horse. Think we can cook up a diversion, run them down one by one in the open...?"

Emilio looks frightened, and his eyes glance at the rope that has been hanged over a nearby tree, close to the bushes where you are hiding.

A faint and bitter expulsion of breath. "Likely not." Until her eyes rest on the rope, and her jaw firms.

Eduardo hisses softly. "Lady... a rescue can be most expensive. If we stay put, we may have another chance to follow them, and investigate. If they capture us, or find out who we are..."

Alix whispers, faintly, "I know." Bleak.

Eduardo also eyes the rope and mutters "We'd have to be quicker than the lightning..."

Devinn shakes his head, and murmurs, "What if we nick up the rope a bit? He drops to the ground while we spook that horse into the crowd....Bah. It doesn't look good."

"He is Kashfan! All Kashfans will go from this land or die!"

Devinn adds, "But we better decide. We'll have some company soon."

"Making the best of it." A faint sound of disgust. "Anyone any use with throwing-knives...?"

Alix glances off to one side, where the faint shadow of the stray horse moves, barely visible in high grass.

The leader throws up his fist in the air and shouts. "Will you be with us, good people of Begma, when we drive them back to where they came from? The Serpent?"

Eduardo looks at his gear and takes out a small crossbow, with irontipped bolts. "I can use these... but you'd have to collect them and make sure our escape route works."

Alix shakes her head once, miserable. "We can't," she murmurs, "we'd have to kill the lot of them, and it'll only enhance their reputation. We can't afford to give them martyrs. Yet."

Devinn grits his teeth, a brief glint under the starlight. "He knew the risks. If he dies before us, our fire only burns hotter. It will /not/ be forgotten."

Eduardo nods silently and makes a gesture towards Emilio, a sort of greeting, and murmurs something that sounds like a little prayer.

One of Alix's hands lifts, brushing Devinn's shoulder, gentle. Her eyes are hard in the faint moonlight, cold and empty. One tremor in her tight-clenched jaw. Then gone.

The crowd cheers, as the hooded men take Emilio and escort him towards the noose. "No!" He shouts. "Please... Haven't I worked hard? Haven't I done what you paid me to do? Don't you remember how I helped you clear the fields?"

Devinn tilts his head back. "Come on. I don't like the new neighbors."

"It was Kashfans that fired our crops!" yells a man. "Up with him! Up with him."

Some villagers remain silent, and an old woman shakes her head and mutters something. A man with a hood approaches her and asks menacingly "You would support this rat, grandma?"

Alix goes still, resting there in the shadow; her eyes narrow as she studies the villagers. "Would," she murmurs, "we have help..?!"

The old woman looks up and says sharply "Don't you go athreatening me, Billy Wobbling. I nursed you when you were small, you fool. This ain't the Serpent. It's merely another fool, just like you."

Some villagers laugh at the one named Billy, but quickly stop it when more cultist approach with drawn weapons.

Devinn starts to move off, but halts, mesmerized. A hoarse whisper, "Not the old lady. Oh, man."

Faint and bitter. "Not very popular, are they?" comments Alix, barely audible, as she begins to uncoil from her crouch.

Their leader calls out "Friends! We should not fight amongst ourselves! We have a common purpose." The old woman spits and says loudly. "I don't like people hiding their faces. If you're so honest, you don't need them. I think you're all a bunch of cowards. Go fight the Kashfan army if you want revenge. Don't take it out on decent working folk."

Heated murmurs now, between the villagers. Emilio stands nearly forgotten between two cultists. The Cult leader shouts angrily "Traitor! Witch! You are possessed by the Serpent! This is a war. Seize her!"

Eduardo whispers. "Well, if you needed a diversion, this is it... but I'm not sure it is enough to cover our escape."

"That's it." Alix's voice is a notch louder, just the barest bit, cold and hard. "We'll come up with something. I shall go retrive the horse. Dev?"

Eduardo calmly readies his crossbow, taking in the position of the two guards around Emilio.

Devinn grabs at his chin, calculates the scene. "Get her. I can ride in with my own hood, and scoop up Emilio. You two head for our horses once the bolts fly. And bring Pepper."

"Don't you dare touch my mother," someone shouts in the crowd, and more angry mutters can be heard, like "This is a free land!" "We have a Parliament." "She can speak out if she wants." "She's a traitor." "Kill her."

Eduardo glances at Devinn and hisses "I hope you can contain the urge to play a hero."

Devinn murmurs. "That crowd will have someone strung up tonight, I'm sure. We can't save everyone."

A faint rustle as Alix detaches herself from the scrub, and makes for the grazing horse, leaving a faint wake of disturbed grasses behind her.

The leader shouts and orders his thugs to kill the old woman. The villagers however, are starting to defend her, though some join ranks with the cultists.

Eduardo positions himself so that he can give cover to Devinn going in, crossbow ready. He glances behind to see if the horses are coming.

A few moments pass, then if you're looking for it, one can see a tall dark figure drawing itself upright and sprinting away at full speed. A faint flicker of moonlight on dark metal, then gone.

Not really ready to use their weapons on their fellow Begmans, some of the cultist stand around awkwardly, and finally start using their fists to spend a bit of their frustration. Soon, most of the people are either shouting, or fighting. The leader, frustrated, moves over to the guards that hold Emilio.

Lying low, Eduardo observes the leader coming near. "He's going to do it himself..."

Eduardo sees that Devinn is going for it, and readies his crossbow.

Devinn hops aboard the stray and pushes it, full-gallop, into the crowd. The hood of his surcoat covers his face, flapping in the breeze behind him.

Eduardo calmly shoots one of the guards near Emilio in the area where his right eye should be. The man falls down without another word.

The leader points at Devinn and shouts, but he's hardly heard over the noise of the brawl. Some guards, and villagers, however, stop fighting in the confusion.

The sound of hooves - not quite a sound, more a vibration in the earth - begins to be evident. Approaching at full gallop.

The second guard ducks just in time, the crossbow bolt whizzing over his head. He takes out a knife and flings it at Devinn

Devinn's arm flicks forward, and a spline of steel whizzes at the leader, catching him in the thigh, but well. He raises a foot to kick the other guard and scoops up Emilio with one arm, flopping the fellow over the horse's hind quarters. "Hold on!" He yells, in his best imitation of a De'alundian accent.

Devinn lurches in the saddle as the knife catches his midriff, but he digs his boots into the stray's flanks, and guns for the road.

Another crossbow bolt takes a guard in the throat who was about to lunge at Devinn with his sword. Eduardo now tries to run towards the horses as fast as he can.

Tempest roars out of the night, running like a freight-train, steam whuffing from her dilated nostrils. Eduardo's slender stallion peels off, headed for the stand of cover, wild-eyed and dancing. Pepper and the great mare curve aside, angling to Emilio.

More knives and bolts fly after Devinn and Eduardo. A groan from Eduardo, as something seems to hit him, but there is no time. He runs towards the horse. Emilio, his hands still bound behind him, runs for his very life, and seems to hold his wits together. He has some trouble getting on a horse, though.

Luckily, the darkness provides some cover. Behind, the flare of torches, and the angry sounds of pursuit can be heard.

A black-gloved hand lashes out, and roughly snags the back of Emilio's collar, yanking him into Pepper's saddle without ceremony. Tempest rears, issuing a scream of rage and challenge, the figure atop a blur of black, the pale smudge of a face.

Eduardo flings himself into the saddle, but his movements seem terribly slow and his breath is ragged.

Devinn pulls the stray close to Pepper, and lashes at Emilio's binds with the sabre that seems to just appear in his hands. The other yanks on the faded leather straps, goading the beast down the road,

The grey mare sprints for the slim black stallion, almost overwhelming it; her rider snags the reins of the other horse and pulls him alongside, snorting in annoyance, then both animals devote all their energy to the running.

The stray does not exactly gallop, rather trots unevenly, two bolts hanging from his flank mute testimony to the pain of travel. Devinn, himself, pales in the saddle, windblown surcoat revealing some dark smudges of bloodied mail.

Like an arrow, the black stallion shoots forward, Eduardo manages to stay in the saddle. Emilio, while not looking too good, can hold on as well. Pursuit is not far away, but not close enough to catch up for now.

Alix gallops alongside Eduardo, one hand stuck far out to grasp his shoulder and keep him in the saddle. She looks to Devinn, her face a blur, her concern evident.

** The three of them make it back to the capital, though all of them are wounded **