Brenton:you think you can intimmadate me? i wont tell you scumbags shit!*Brenton did small jump kick at Andrews face knocking him to the ground* *looks over at Stride* leave him alone!*charges at them and punches their faces then head towards Stride* hold still*Brenton fiddled with his sleeve until a needle came out then in a second unlocks the shackles* *slaps stride in the face* come on old man wake up! you can nap when we leave.
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rp catagory
Intolerance
When Brenton leapt forward with the kick the three other inquisitioners surrounding him lunged forward with their long swords. one blade goes astray as Brenton parries with his fore-arm but the other two strike home; one deeply piercing his chest on the right side while the other one cuts viciously into his left calf. As gravity takes its course Brenton finds that his left leg won’t hold his weight and breathing has become painful due to the chest wound. Both wounds bleed heavily.
Andrew, High inquisitioner: “right, let’s make this easier for you.” *he says getting to his feet and rubbing at where he was kicked* “Kneel and submit now or die in this miserable cell.” *his eyes have a deadly glint in them as he speaks and he raises his sword with experienced hands*
Andrew, High inquisitioner: “I’m the monster?! I’m not the one who willingly associates with Anirch or steals from honest folk.” *kicks Brenton in the injured leg with a steel-capped boot, knocking the thief to the ground.* “they are marked in black, beings of decadence; I’ve never met a single one without sins. If I need to become a monster to keep the people of this empire safe, then so be it.” *kicks Brenton again; this time in the temple knocking him out.* “Mulroy, Harker, lock him up and put him in the cart with the wolf. As soon as you are done begin searching for that other one; the building is locked so she must still be here.” *the inquisitioners leave with both captives and lock them both in the iron cage on wheels located in the stables.*
Although the crowd has long left, Ssayna waits patiently and without a move and barely breathing, not leaving the unattended keys on the floor out of sight for a moment's worth. The wait gives her a lot of time for weighing her options.
Ssayna: I have heard of an inquisition to hunt down Anirch. However, the throne seems to be systematically purging all Anirch off the land's surface now… Apparently, my life is at stake, whether I fight or run. *curses escape her lips silently* Why? Why did all this have to happen to me?! *frightened of how loud her whispered words echo back from the nave, she retreats further into the darkness; after she hasn't heard anything else than her own breath for ten minutes, she sneaks out of the pillar's shadow she hid in; inwardly she scolds herself because her fearful whimper earlier allowed the priest to locate her, aware that it actually left her better off than going completely unnoticed* It could have cost my life… There's no use, I can't hope to survive all on my own any longer.
She fights down the anger about her helplessness to have a decision in the situation, comes to a conclusion and snatches the keys.
Ssayna: … The men's property is in the undercroft, they said. *she sighs and listens if the two inquisitioners who were left at the cathedral to search for her are nearby, then sneaks down the staircase inaudible like a cat, and starts the search; it is short, for the first room she unlocks already exposes the objective* A larder seems an odd place to store a sword.
She listens in again for anyone who might be approaching, however the only noise she hears is silence. Ssayna proceeds to open the lashing of a robust linen bag filled with corn and empties it on the floor, trying to make as little noise as possible. Wrapping sword and a nearby staff that also seems out of place in two more empty crop bags and stuffing them in the first bag, she lets her gaze wander across the larder and locates and takes a knife next to the spot the staff was. The knife then serves as tool and the lashes of the other two bags as straps; quick and with skilled movements, she builds a backpack with the straps crossing her chest. Grabbing for a rope curled up in the corner, she packs the knife to the other weapons pommel first, ties the bag up, slips it on and leaves the food chamber. Quick and quiet and avoiding an inquisitioner scouring the lengthy undercroft, she follows the groom's tunnel, climbs up the ladder and unlocks the trap door to the stable; the other inquisitioners and their prisoners have long left, however the footsteps of men, horses and the distinctive furrows of wheels of two carriages in the muddy ground are evident and impossible for her to miss. Her moon lit silhouette blurs, two straight, pale shining horns raise from her head, more than two feet long, a bottle brush tail grows, her forearms cover in black and white fur. Lastly, her hands turn to hooves, and her legs turn to the hind legs of an oryx fully; Ssayna falls down on all fours, to gallop off and pick up on her new goal's track.
Stride: “Ah, welcome to the realm of the waking Sir Thief.” *he is currently bent over the human’s chest using both hands to apply direct pressure to the wound. He has apparently used his own shirt for bandages and dressed both the leg and chest wound in the way of crude first-aid.* “If you have any survival instinct left you will lie still. I’ve staunched the blood at the moment but wound isn’t going to close without stitches. Until then; relax, enjoy the scenery, and wait for the right moment to come to you. No snare is perfect or inescapable.”
The caged prisoner cart bumps roughly along the worn road towed behind the inquisitioner’s carriage. The rain has slackened to nothing more than a shower though the night is chill and dark with the only light coming from the oil lamps aboard the carriage. The driver of the cart seems content to keep up a brisk pace, never showing sign of slowing or stopping for the night.
Regardless the decreasing rain, the imprints of the carriages are still deep and well trackable in the muddy, sucking morass the road has turned into. The downside of the circumstance, though, Ssayna feels with every step she takes; each time her hooves seem to sink into the mud deeper, each time it gets harder to pull them out again. One time she lost the track for a while when her target crossed a flooded ford. The tree's roots stood in the water, and the road only just became visible again after an intersection. However, it took her but a quarter hour to find the traces back.
Ssayna: The horses must be horribly tired by now. If the coachman led them a bit of a more relaxing pace, I would have already gained on them.
The eyes on the trail, Ssayna's tiring mind begins to wander about and stir into past. Slowly, the trees rushing past set aflame, one after another. She can smell burning wood… and burning flesh. How many years has it been? Absently, she notices she is on fire. The pain the ghostly flames teach her is first subtle, almost unperceivable, but gains unerringly until she can't focus on the wheel imprints in front of her anymore. She staggers and falls, rolls around in the dirt screaming in pain. Water, is her only thought. Put out the flames! With the maniacal spirit of a burning, she hauls up to her feet and storms across the trees without a goal and without being able to see where she heads. There is the river! Only a few more steps… The cold water envelops her merciful. The pain levels off. With half open eyes, she looks at the black bottom of the deep river. The darkness seems to wave and cringe towards her, promising oblivion and the end of all pain. Her vision darkens… and spits out the dirt road in front of her and her still galloping. She is alive. Alive and on flight. Ironically, she is fleeing right into the arms of her pursuers. Brushing all thought aside, she fixates the still present track of the carriages.
Ssayna: Keep moving… keep moving… *she repeats the words in the rhythm of her heavy breath, like a mantra*
Stride: “it was Brenton, wasn’t it?” *sigh* “well, I guess that if we are going to be stuck together for any length of time we might as well get to know a little about each other.” *shifts himself into a more comfortable position while retaining pressure on Brenton’s wound* “I was born in Nyx, how about you?”
Up ahead, the dim lights of the village of Ashbank can be seen though the rain and night. It’s a small place built along the river Ald and primarily gets by through its inns, breweries and wheat fields. It seems likely that the inquisitioners will stop there for fresh horses and possibly more Anirch.
Over her own heart, Ssayna can hear the horses ahead of her and see the dim coach lights. She’s still a ways off, but catching up.
Stride: “if you hate the Anirch, than why did the Inquisition decide to take you? Usually they only kidnap humans that harbor Anirch or aid them in some way.” *Stride muses, idly. He doesn’t seem surprised nor bothered by the fact that an Anirch would do such a horrible thing. As an afterthought he asks* “could you describe the Anirch that attacked you? what was his creature?”
Brenton:to answer a few of your questions i dont really know. but i remember the killer and its cold red eyes and its evil face and that strange mark on the hand he hit me with…i just wish i knew why he attacked us? what did my family do to deserve that?…this creature looked weird it looked almost idk lizard or snake like
Stride: “hmm… I don’t think reptile Anirch are particularly common, I’ve certainly never met one. Still, I can count the number of other Anirch I’ve met in my life on my fingers and toes. What else do you—uh oh, gotta change.”
Stride’s ears flatten as they near the town and he reluctantly shifts back to human. His clawed and padded hands feel unnerving against Brenton’s chest as they change. The whole change takes only about ten seconds but the surrealness of the event makes it seem much longer.
Stide: *rolls his jaw a couple of times as if trying to pop his ears.* “ugh, I feel deaf and I can’t smell a thing. Still, it beats drawing attention and thrown stones.” *He mutters distractedly before picking the conversation back up.* “Anyway, how did the inquisition catch you and why?”
The carriage and caged cart trundle into town, slowing slightly as they do so. The town is old but well maintained with a prominent riverfront full of Inns, and warehouses. The carriage itself heads to a stable on the far side of town and finally stops to change out the horses. The inquisitioners exit the carriage only slightly stiff from the ride.
Andrew, High Inquisitioner: “Mulroy, Hobbs; watch after the prisoners and carriage. Harker, help with the horses. James, Paul; you’re with me.” *He says with military precision as he walks into town.* “let’s see if there are any cursed ones here that we need to add to our collection.”
Hobbs, Inquisitioner: *looks over Brenton and Stide with distain.* “which one o’ these two bashed me wit’ the piss-pot?”
Mulroy, inquisitioner: *points to Brenton* “That one. If he wasn’t all ready bleeding out I’d give him cause to myself.” *shakes head and claps Hobbs on the shoulder.* “You’ll get your chance later; keep it in check ‘till then.”
Brenton:well…i kinda sorta stole a weapon…i saw this sword around 1 of those idiots gaurds i stole it while he was napping on his job*smirks at his acomplishment* took them 2 months to track me down *raises his voice a bit* bunch of retards! my true attention was to get caught so i could find that scaley bastered..and when i saw the condition everyone was in…it makes me want to kill "them" more*points at the 3 inquisioners*
Ssayna: They have stopped… Perhaps for rest? *she catches up and slows down exhausted; switching back to her full human form, not minding the dirt on her hands, she paces through the small, unlit alleys, always keeping an eye on the procession as long as possible; hiding in the darkness between two houses that stand close to each other on the opposite side of the carriages, - one turning out to be nothing more than a cage on wheels as she sees now - she watches the scenery* No… just changing horses. Be… sporting and take five at least… *she weighs her options, coming to the conclusion that it's too dangerous to let the two sorry figures in the cage know of her presence*
Hobbs, Inquisitioner: “how’s abouts I bash yer head in and then we see how’s the retard around here!?” *lunges toward the cage only to be held back by Mulroy and Andrew.*
Andrew, High Inquisitioner: “you’ll control yourself, Mulroy, of it’s the lash for you.” *he says just as Mulroy ceases his struggle.* “and you, prisoner. You’ll keep a civil tongue in your head or I’ll keep it for you.” *he says, drawing his boot knife to illustrate his point.*
———————————————————
The Inquisitioners are all on the side of the cage nearer the stables and have never seen Ssayna. The stablehands have unhitched the current team or horses and are preparing the next team. They are still several minutes before being ready to leave, and at least two inquisitioners are still checking the town for Anirch or sympathizers.
———————————————————
(if anyone wants to join Intolerance, this would be a good time to do so. contact me via PQ to set it up.)
While hiding and trying hard to become one with the darkness, Ssayna sorts through the options at hand and then the options that likely come up in the future and sorts everyone out. Her lips move, but even if there was absolute silence around, someone who held his ear right next to her lips would hardly be able to understand what she is saying, let alone make sense of the chaos that escapes her lips. After proceeding the litany for a minute or two, her mouth slows down until a standstill as she comes to a result.
Ssayna: Nothing… All I can do is follow them until a more opportune moment has taken place. Even if there will be no such moment… *aware of the likelyhood of her being caught by the inquisitioners on search, she climbs the roof of the house she was leaning on with experienced movements; on top of the thatch, she presses against it not to make an easy target and crouches forward at a pace that seems to be an inch by a minute until she has a hint of a view of the carriages and the inquisitioners; then an idea passes through her mind* And if the inquisitioners find another Anirch and I help that one flee…? *she needs not think long; it's her best option as of now, thus she carefully retreats and starts crisscrossing the town for the robed vultures* I can't believe it… I'm a moth about to burn in the fire I'm dragged to.
James and Paul return after many minutes dragging a young kid between them. The Anirch is dressed in street rags and the accumulated dirt.
James, Inquisitioner: “just one this time, boss. The constables caught it last week.”
Paul, Inquisitioner: “do you want us to make a couple sweeps of the town ourselves? I have reason to doubt piety of the local authority.”
Andrew, High Inquisitioner: “we are only six, it is night and we already have prisoners.” *Andrew says coldly* “Do you honestly believe we are equipped to carry out such a search, Paul?”
Paul, Inquisitioner: “it can’t be too difficult, sir. Afterall, where there’s one cursed there’s likely to be others.”
Andrew, High Inquisitioner: “…fine, but we’ll be smart about this. Lock up the child and make a quick search of the docksides. Harker, are the horses ready?”
Harker, Inquisitioner: “nearly so sir, the stablehands are quite competent.”
Andrew, High Inquisitioner: “good, you come with me and we’ll search the upper end. we’ll all meet back here in an hour regardless of what we find; am I clear?”
Inquisitioners, all: “yes!”
Andrew, High Inquisitoner: “good. Mulroy, Hobbs, keep a sharp eye out and control yourselves. I have the oddest feeling that we are being watched.”
The searchers depart leaving only two to guard the cart. The new prisoner curls up in a corner, saying nothing yet trembling in what might be cold or fear.
Ssayna, who has followed the inquisitioners on search back to the others, watches the scene and starts mumbling down a list of her options again, soon as no one is in hearing range anymore. After five minutes of pondering, she sets her mind up. Quietly, she makes a big circle around the inquisitioners and enters the stable swiftly. She hides in an empty stall and waits until one of the stable hands is so inattentive as to approach it. Before he can react or scream, she presses a hand on the boy's mouth, ignoring her wild heartbeat, and pulls him into the box without that anyone else would have noticed. She then starts whispering into his ear.
Ssayna: Listen closely now. No sound. You will obey me on this. I will tell you exactly what to do and you will nod to sign me that you will do exactly that. Afterwards, I am going to lift my hand from your mouth, and you will not scream, shout, talk, kick against the box or do anything else to draw any attention. You will also not let anyone know of my presence, not even my existence while you do what I tell you, and I may spare you a quick, painful death imposed by an Anirch. *the boy whimpers a little by what he just heard which results in Ssayna strengthening her grip; with her free hand, she takes the rope she stole from the larder of Tarice's cathedral and wraps it around his neck with the help of her teeth* One noise that is not in my liking, and I swear, I will pull on this rope so hard your pathetic neck breaks in two, understood? *she pauses for but a moment to let the threat resonate in his mind and continues* You will go out there in five minutes, not more, not less, and tell the inquisition that there is a problem in the stables. I care not what, let it be something about the new horses or what in the world ever, just make sure one, and only one of them, comes with you into the stables and stays there for another five minutes at least. Will you do that for me? *once again, she reinforces her grip on his jaw and her rope to remind him of his choices*
Stableboy: *nods his head franticly in submission.*
—————————————————————————
Stride: (look at that boy, probably his first time caught. I wonder when he turned?) “hey kid, welcome to hell. Do ya got a name?”
‘The kid’: *glances at stride and looks away, as if ignoring his situation will make it all go away.*
Ssayna: Good. *she keeps her voice calm and collected as much as she can; all the while being rock solidly convinced her heartbeat is so strong even the boy can feel it* Now go. Remember, five minutes. One trick, and I will come and get you in your dreams. *slowly, she takes her hand off his mouth, ready to put it back on if he would make so much as a sqeak; after a couple seconds of silence, she opens the sling and pulls the rope in; leaving the stable as soundlessly as she entered, she steps into position and waits*
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