They finally made their way to the enemy camp, and Guiltare watched from the distance. It wasn't much unlike a war camp, with a sea of tents before them. It was stationed atop a plateau, with the entrance being a short natural wall, cliffs on either side, with a gently sloping hill that connected the camp to the ground. At this point, there had been a small gate constructed, sealing the camp inside, along with walls that crept along the cliff face to prevent others from simply bypassing the gate entirely.
She sighed."Gem's there somewhere..." She said, mostly to herself.
Morz, beside her, stayed silent, though he reached a hand beneath his mask. She looked, and when he retracted it, the tips of his glove were damp. She frowned."...Morz, are you-"
"I'll get started on the food." He stated, walking back to their camp, a bit deeper in the woods.
She looked and sighed, shaking her head. She'd learned long ago not to question Morz too deeply about his past beyond Black Griffin, but she could not help but wonder. He'd been even more sullen, more distant, since this mission began. She'd originally just attributed it to the banishment of Narra, but now...she couldn't help but wonder if All Sons was somehow related. Had he been a member once?
...Well, it was no matter, she supposed. He'd been focused, if nothing else, and that was better than shutting down over some trauma of his past. If the time ever came that she needed his story, she was sure he would tell it.
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She walked towards the gate slowly, keeping a hand on her sword. She'd done things like this in the past, but it always made her worry. Ethics or not, some would jump at the chance to slay an enemy leader.
She had Vaussten and Morz walked alongside her, Giles having been left behind to keep an eye on the camp. Vaussten held a white banner in the air, and with his free hand, tapped metal to metal in anticipation."Geez...Never thought they'd have so many damn guys. Be rough going through there...Though the Gate'd be hard to fix, considering the distance from the woods, give us a nice advantage. Could always wait them out, if it came to it.
Morz shook his head."A poor idea." He replied, pressing on his mask to make sure it was secure.
Vaussten glared."Use my full name. And why the heck not? Take time, but it's not like we have any big jobs that-"
"Gem." Guiltare cut in."We could wait them out, their supplies would dwindle. They'd come out to face us, dwindle their numbers to make the food stores last longer. But if there's a shortage of food, who do you suppose they'd cut off from the rations first?"
Vaussten sighed."The prisoners....right. Wasn't thinking."
Guiltare nodded and continued her trek forward, not replying to Vaussten's comment.
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Mar didn't like the man he saw.
Mar was normally a tolerant person, or at least, he had few reasons to hate any group of people, but this man gave him worry. He carried himself with an air of confidence, and walked as one might expect a lord to, as though the peasants on either side of the road should be grateful for his presence.
He shook his head. By the curled brown hair he saw, the man was clearly a Vraiman. Any Vraiman who carried himself like that these was one of two things. One who had succumbed and accepted Fauxmen terms to regain lordships, or a Vraiman who had been a traitor from the start, had aided in overthrowing their own king.
Either way, it meant they supported those who had ousted Savir, forced her to live in fear.
And so, Mar did not like the man he saw.
He held the bow at his side, a finely crafted bow of elm wood, with a waxed string. It seemed almost out of place in his hands, alongside the half-dozen poorly-fletched arrows he held in a small quiver at his side.
He wasn't a great shot, he knew, but with his gift, he had no need to be. He even found himself hoping that Paricht would give the signal, that the enemy would give him good reason to signal for aid.
He would even be able to take out the long-haired woman who must be the Demon, and the large cloaked man besides, but these didn't concern him. He had no reason to hate them. But their third companion! Ah, how Savir would be pleased to hear of him being killed.
Perhaps it would even earn a smile from her.
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They saw the man approach, as the gate was hastily closed behind him. Paricht walked over, sighing."...Now, I certainly hope you have a good reason for me to be dragged out here." He replied, cracking his neck boredly."'Cause honestly, if this is another ransom demand, i'll-"
"You have one of us prisoner." Guiltare replied coolly, eyes narrowed."A Nrevacian girl. Release her, and we'll be on our way."
Paricht looked at her."...Who, the Sword girl?" He sighed."...Sorry, but she's ours now, so...you can be on your way now." He replied bluntly.
Guiltare narrowed her eyes and stepped forward."...I come here under a banner of peace, but do not think that peace is all I know. If you do not release her this instant, I can promise that you will-"
"Let me ask you this, lady." Paricht interrupted."You think i'm a good guy?"
Vaussten, beside Guiltare, frowned."...Don't see much point in that, pal, just let her-"
"I don't think i'm a good guy." Paricht continued, ignoring Vaussten."You know what I was before all this? A murderer, a killer, and, as some would put it, a scoundrel. I slashed up, maybe...thirty people before I got caught, and you know what? I don't even know why I did it." He paused for a moment to grin."No momma that didn't love me, no papa that pounded on me, no bullies who said I was trash. Just saw a knife, and something clicked in me to make me think that slashing up folks might be a good idea."
Guiltare just narrowed her eyes."...Is there a point to this monologue?"
Paricht smiled."Just wait a second, 'kay?" He continued."So there I am. Scary man, locked in prison. I get a visitor. Pale guy, thought he was weird. Guy says 'what do you regret most?'. Now, I didn't regret anything, exactly, cause I enjoyed what I did, but I had to give the guy an answer. And I say 'I regret that I couldn't kill more, and that I couldn't take as much time as I wanted with some'." He smiled and gestured behind him."And now here I am, working for that guy. Pretty screwed up, innit?"
Guiltare just continued her icy stare a the man.
He sighed."...I'll take that as a yes. But you know, even a guy like me has a moral compass, of sorts. Sure, i'll slash a guy, or use my gift, but at least i'm up front about it. You...slaughtering a whole race of little Cavies, and then taking a survivor and making yourself a hero over it, training her and telling her 'it's to get revenge'...That's just not right, you know. Coming from a bastard like me, a story like that burns me right up. Someone who'd be so cruel..." The previously light-hearted tone to his voice faded, leaving a gravelly tone."...You're a real piece of work, aren't you?"
Guiltare's face hardened, and she clenched her hand in a fist."Don't-"
Morz moved more quickly than her and grabbed the man in a gloved hand, lifting him into the air by his throat."Cease your prattling." He ordered.
The man growled and reached beneath the robe, touching his arm, then frowning, scratching a bit more desperately."What the...why isn't it working!" He rasped, kicking his legs.
Guiltare blinked in surprise, rage fading."Morz." She stated, then more firmly,"Morz! Put him down, we are flying a banner of peace."
Morz held him a moment longer, then threw him to the ground. Guiltare nodded and looked down at the wheezing man."...Tell your master you have until sunrise tomorrow to release Gem." She stated, turning and signaling for the others to follow.
Paricht recovered and got to his feet, turning back towards the gate angrily."Mar! Do it! Kill these bastards!"
Vaussten turned, seeing a solitary arrow soar towards them."...Is that really it?" He laughed."Do me a favor, tell everyone it was a hundred arrows later, make the story more interesting." He raised his metal hand to block the arrow, grinning.
Guiltare turned slightly. A solitary arrow was peculiar...She turned a bit more frantically at the realization."Vaussten, duck!"
It was too late. Vaussten did indeed catch the arrow in his metal hand. As well as nearly a dozen more across his whole body.
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Mar grinned and laughed. He'd been skeptical, but it had worked! And now the man was all but doomed! He'd even stood in place for the arrow, like a foot, which had mate it even easier to create more, to tear into him like a training dummy.
He looked down at the soldiers near the gate."Open the gate! Let's get Paricht back in here."
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Vaussten gagged slightly."...Huh?" There were many arrows, of course, but he was more surprised than actually injured. Most had pierced through his metal limbs painlessly, though it would be an annoyance to repair later. The exceptions were the two in his torso, one in his chest, and one in his gut. They stung, but nothing more than a flesh wound, if he was correct.
He saw Paricht, oblivious to this, laughing, turning towards the gate and preparing to run. He growled."...You son of a-"
Paricht half-turned as the man lunged and pinned him."What the...how did you-"
"For the record." Vaussten said, wrapping the banner about his foe."When it comes to banners of peace, arrows are a lot worse than throat-grabbing.
Paricht struggled angrily."Let me go! Idiot, i'm going to-" Paricht tried to reach up towards him, but Vaussten simply put his good hand on the banner.
"Buh-bye." He stated, and the banner burst into flames, which soon spread onto the man's own clothes. He yelped in pain as Vaussten rolled off of him.
Paricht got to his feet, trying to remove his clothes and stop the burning."Guaaaaaargh! Aaaah! Aaah! Help, someone help! Mar! Grandmaster! Heeelp! I'm burning! I'm burning!" It was too late, and the flame had spread to his skin, burns appearing as his clothes took on the color of ash. Desperately, he rushed for the gatehouse, still continuing his frantic cry, half-whimper, half-howl.
Vaussten watched and sighed."Geez...Was kinda hoping he'd die quick." He looked at the others."So hey, think you could give me a lift? One of those arrows busted a joint in my leg."
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Mar'ply walked down, frowning at the look of terror on the faces of the guardsmen."...What's wrong? Why isn't the gate open?"
One of the guards hesitated."I...Don't think that's a good idea, sir."
Mar glared slightly."I'll decide what's a good idea, you stick to following orders. Open the gate."
The gate was opened, and Mar blinked, hearing the screams, seeing the thin, fiery shape zig-zagging its way towards them."Mar! Someone! Help! I'm burning! I'm burning!"
Mar swore."Water! Get water, or something!" he ordered. He glanced around, seeing the horse-trough, and lifted it.
Paricht rushed in with another howl of pain."I'm buuuuurned!" Mar quickly tossed the trough water upon him.
The flames died down, but Paricht collapsed upon the ground, steam rising from him, bits of white fabric still smoking slightly against his skin. Mar wrinkled his nose as the smell of burned flesh reached him. He certainly wasn't going to check for a pulse with that heat, but Paricht was very still.
He was sure he was dead, but couldn't let the men know. They'd panic, after all, with all the recent deaths among the Incarnate."Get him to a medic, now!" He ordered.
He rushed back to the top of the wall and saw the enemy departing, far out of arrow range by now. There was the woman, of course, and the large cloaked man, as expected. But upon the cloaked man's back, he saw, was the Vraiman. He glanced back at the gatehouse, as though noticing Mar's presence, then raised a mailed hand to the sky, middle finger extended.
Mar sighed.
He really did not like that man.