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"My deepest apologies, my lady." Godric said quickly, his heart in dearest pain at the thought of offending the woman he loved so passionately. "There is so much more to you than just your beauty, but I do confess there is nothing that I have seen, nor likely ever will see, that matches your own beguiling visage."  Another wound was inflicted upon his spirit, one borne from a different kind of assault. Somewhere deep, deep into the hastily buried recesses of his mind, his love for Ioreth called out, demanding attention, but receiving nothing but scorn in response. That strange but incredible elf was pushed out of his mind, nearly erased entirely, but not without leaving behind its own damage to the young noble. Wounds of the heart are a complicated matter, and in this instance, Godric's was both alive with newly discovered love, and wilting at the loss of one he held so close to his own happiness. It did not take long for Godric to fall back upon his own delusions of infatuation, smiling in that idiotic way that he had, hoping to catch her eye and receive her attention. When he noticed her drink spilling, he shot up like an arrow loosed from its bow, using his own coat to mop up the mess. "Fear not, my love, I will have this cleaned up in no time." Ignoring the strange looks he got from the other patrons, Godric was happy to serve in whatever way he could for the woman he loved with all his heart. "Is everything all right?" The bar maid asked, her face in a slight bit of shock at seeing a man, who by her recollection was always a bit of a quiet customer, now actively trying to clean up a mess with his own coat. "Er...are you okay, lad?" "Am I okay?" Godric asked, laughing with such gusto that it caused the servant woman to back up a bit. "I've never been better, especially now that I have found my one true love, my future bride to be. A round for everyone on me! To love!" The others cheered, happy to take free ale from a love struck fool such as Godric. Little did they realize the severity of his condition, nor did they understand the sheer fact a crime had been committed, right under all their noses...

“AWAY WITH YOU, THOU CREAM FACED LOON!” Insults probably weren’t the wisest course of action. It felt good, though. Really good. There was something profoundly satisfying about screaming at your enemies, like taking a good shit after six hours of holding it in. The bottled-up fear, the cheated inklings of rage, the sneaking suspicion that coming here was a terrible decision? I could just let it all out. “THOU LUMPISH, HORSE-BEDDING CODPIECE! GO BACK TO WHENCE YOU CAME!” Beast and I jumped across a rooftop, scraping stone with a running start. A harsh pounding of boots told us Apex did too. I glanced over my shoulder, just a quick peak because I couldn’t resist, and sure enough there he was, no less than twenty feet away. His stride was measured. Feral but measured. He was clearly throwing himself into the chase but not at a hundred and ten percent. There were moments we shouldn’t have been able to get away, moments when he should’ve savaged us like a lion, and I had the feeling he was holding back. Almost as if he was enjoying himself. “Watch out!” I yelled, ducking under a projectile. A second one followed, and a third and a fourth, before the fifth finally caught my arm right above the elbow. Blue blood fled from the shallow gash, warm and thick. My hand reflexively went to cover it when an idea sprang to mind. Tightening my fingers around the wound, an uncomfortable pressure began to build up. My veins dilated. My muscles bloated. My heart did things I can’t even begin to describe. The pressure soon became painful, like a cyst digging into my bones. In a way, that’s exactly what it was, with my hand being the layer keeping it from bursting. Pop. I removed my hand. Blood exploded from the cut. A passing moment of dizziness nearly sent me tumbling to the ground. The blood, which came out in a thick, cloud-like mist, painted the roof behind me in a thin coat of royal blue. Any skin contact would trigger a sharp, burning sensation, like acid but without the corroding properties that made it truly dangerous. Since Apex was covered from head to toe, however, my goal was oriented towards an abrupt distraction. If the blood got on his helmet, his vision would be impaired; if he swerved around the mist, those were precious seconds in my favour. Either way, it was a small contribution to narrowly escaping death. And if worse came to worse, I had my last resorts. As we rounded a corner, the rooftop suddenly ended in a sharp drop. The only paths to take were either forward or backward. “My lady, I think we’re going to have to jump-“ A mechanical whirr cut me off. Beast’s grappling hook snaked out into the sky, reaching and reaching until it found purchase on a building looming further down. She bolstered her run, speeding up towards the gap, and I had the terrifying realization that she was going leave me behind. “RAPSCALLION!” I lunged and grabbed on to her waist. We swung from the roof like a pitiful wrecking ball. The grappling hook tried to reel us up, whining as it spun, but the combined weight of me, Beast and the doctor proved to be too much for the pulley mechanism. The rope slackened ever so slightly, and we began to hurtle towards the building. I braced myself for the worst, expecting to be dashed bloody against a concrete wall. CRASH! We were dashed bloody, except the wall was a window. Our landing was serenaded by glass butterflies that screeched with the charm of a serrated knife. I groaned involuntarily, lying on my back, wincing against sharp bits of glass poking through my suit. Beast was recovering to my left, with the doctor crumpled at the foot of a chair. I noticed another body positioned beside me, bald-headed and wearing a suit, slumped forward over a wooden desk in the manner of the recently deceased. He coughed. Seemingly deceased, I corrected. I slowly stood up, then studied the room we barged into. It was an office by the looks of it, and a fancy one at that. There were awards hanging on the walls, dark leather sofas and chairs, a monitor with a foot-sized hole in it, and a crystal decanter on the shelf of a nearby cabinet. Wind blew in from the shattered window, scattering pages of a document. The only light came from a perfect replica of the iconic Pixar lamp. The man on the desk stirred some more. His hand fumbled drunkenly around the desk, knocking a picture frame as it searched for something before passing over a landline phone. His thumb pressed down on a button. “Security,” he slurred. He went limp two seconds later, and I put two fingers against his neck. “Well,” I started, swallowing a gasp of exhaustion. “The good news is we haven’t committed manslaughter. The bad news is you failed miserably in trying to abandon me. Also, there’s security coming, and that’s…” I trailed off. Apex was standing at the edge of the building we’d swung from. I didn’t want to stick around in case he could jump really far. “We should move.”

FIRST LIEUTENANT VINTOVKA ROZOVVY (ADJUTANT/SECRETARY) As she returned back to the troops' camp, Vinny can't help but mull over the Komandir's rather pensive mood.  Which is a bit odd by the way. Holly's usually bitter or harsh. The one I met earlier was kind of...distracted. Of course, Vinny knew what their squad will be doing tomorrow.  Reconnaissance. Scouting. Holly wants to expand her territory a bit more. I swear, she's never satisfied until she has claimed all of Corinth as her own. Jokes aside, Vinny wondered how will they conduct the scouting. She knew that it will be a joint effort between the peasant farmers and Holly's escort. The soldiers will scout the path ahead and remove any danger or obstacle in the way then the farmers and other helpers come in to clear the land. In the past, Holly would have done all the scouting and clearing part but the poor landlady isn't available all the time. This must be why Holly formed her personal armed escort. For now, I need to get the troops ready.  

art by Dasajj     Come visit me at my villa on the Hildebrand grounds at your earliest convenience. We have business to discuss. —Q   Quinton is sitting at the head of the long, dark table where Varda had briefly succumbed to her affliction. It has been nearly a week since the unfortunate incident, but he still sees her slipping from the chair, eyes closed as she tumbled into his waiting arms. There is still a debt to be paid, in that regard. It will take time to provoke the would-be assassin out from whatever hole they’ve slithered into, but Quinton is, more than anything, a patient man. Besides, revenge—no matter in whose name it is invoked is—comes second to business. So, he turns his attention to the pad of bleached sketching paper before him and the neat, orderly rows of sharpened charcoal pencils to his left. The likeness he’s captured today is that of his intended guest, Evienne Goldcourt, and like his rendition of Varda, no detail has been forgotten, no feature out of place, completing a process that has consumed several hours of his day. Now, he’s lightly running a pencil with a softer end along one of the shadows caressing her neck, darkening it. He uses a small wad of tissue to blend it in, gently circling the area to achieve the desired effect. He’s spent a great deal of time thinking about the girl lately. There are few things more attractive in the world than a beautiful woman with ambition. Evienne possesses both attributes in spades, and had he not already set things into motion with Varda, he may very well have chosen the young entrepreneur to take her place. And still might, he thinks candidly, should the chips fall unfavorably in regards to his older selection. Even a careful spider cannot control everything, he learned long ago—only plan for it. But more than the foundation of a legacy in Ursa Madeum’s noble circle, the young girl presents an interesting aspect to his dealings here. Smart and cunning as she is, Evienne is young, which makes her more susceptible to open-mindedness as opposed to other possible business associates. Hungry to learn, to evolve, to become the best version of themselves (which includes not being arrogant enough to shirk guidance and recognize its value). These are people Quinton can use. With business moving seamlessly, Quinton has decided it is time for her to take the next step in their business relationship. She’s had his interest for quite some time, but now she has his attention. Of course, he recognizes that she may not be ready—that, enamored with her motivation, he has come to overestimate her. But, even so, he believes that she can be groomed. She may not be ready today—perhaps. But Quinton is, more than anything, a patient man, and who but the Seer knows what tomorrow will bring?

HOLINESS "HOLLY" SHEATHE (THE KOMANDIR) The Komandir turned to face her first soldier, her Adjutant. Vintovka's family were immigrants from a land far beyond Ursa Madeum, even beyond Terrenus. First Lieutenant Rozovyy has always been at the Komandir's side way back when they were just Holly and Vinny. Their status may have changed but their positions as master and secretary never change. Vinny is a very capable assistant. I feel bad that she had to be part of my first squad but I cannot let her excellent capacity for storing and producing magic go to waste. A weary sigh escaped the Komandir's lips. "Adjutant. See to it that everyone is ready to go within five minutes." Turning her back on her loyal follower, the Komandir was once again enjoying her growing crops. "I'll be joining them later for one last briefing. Dismissed." The Adjutant gave her salute and walked away to fulfill the Komandir's wishes. Holly, on the other hand, never looked back.