White dresses and black blood

[Rance]

In the Barracks of the Brotherhood, in the quiet of night, something was amiss. Two rooms were very empty.

In the bowels of the Gaol, there would be found the remnants of recent struggle. There were puddles of blood -- reeking, thick and black -- and the splinters of shattered furnitures. There was a shackle-bracer left behind, rusted and long worn, and ashes floating like scattered snowfall.

There was an overturned well of fresh ink and an abandoned quill. In the center of the floor, placed lovingly alongside a tiny and withering flower-blossom, there were the pages of a very bold letter penned in the hands of two very mischevious children...




Just past midnight, two captive girls went missing, and in the haste of these scrawlings, not even their pair of unassuming benefactors would know that these presents had been left behind, if only in humor and cheer.

The only word amidst the Brotherhood? Lieutenant Bishop had been storming through the halls only an hour before these harrowed discoveries, seeking out a child named Alligail.

Behind him, it would be said, had been Bryce Larose, and in his wake, pregnant womb still bulging with secrets, the very tiny elfling named Reverie.

[Civet]

Behind him, it would be said, had been Bryce Larose, and in his wake, pregnant womb still bulging with secrets, the very tiny elfling named Reverie.

((Which would coincide with when Doctor D'Rael sent him to look after her in his stead - just to clear up the timeline))

[`Bishop]

Decisions...

Maxwell Bishop was facing a decision. Hell, he's been facing decisions all his life. It's part of his job as a professional officer to make decisions. If the man couldn't decide on something and stick with it, then he could've never have been an airship commander.

Granted, he's not an airship commander anymore. It was a horse Lieutenant in the Brotherhood of Janerio, in a land far distant from his land of origin. Though, that far away place is no longer his home. -This- is his home now. And he pledged a duty and responsibility to the Brotherhood.

But he also promised a tiny pregnant elfling that he'd see that she and her sister would be safe.

Safe from their 'mother' Magdelaena. Safe from those who would wish to harm them.

And with dangers being able to come and go from the barracks as they please, with dangers being given a free pass to visit one of these girls and in a moment of rage sever her hand, then toss her cruelly into a cell in the deepest, dankest part of the Gaol. The Barracks were no longer safe. The Brotherhood were no longer safe. Maybe not even the Council... but that was pure speculation on Bishop's part, and he wasn't given to flights of fancy, so it was quickly dismissed.

But back to the decision....

Before him were two girls. One pregnant, one not. Both were in pain. Both needed his help. One he gave a promise to protect them both, and Maxwell Bishop isn't the type to give someone a promise lightly. When he said something, he meant it.

But there was also his loyalty and duty to the Brotherhood and their mandate to the Council. Bishop wore the gray and black uniform of that organization proudly, feeling glad that he was once again part of something greater than himself, as any good career soldier would.

What to choose? Who is more important? What of the consquences?

In the end, the decision only took Bishop a split second to make, once he cleared his head and Bryce fixed his shoulder for him. (Damnable vampires).

If you couldn't keep your word of honour to a small elfling girl who had seized you and hung on with all her might, pleading, begging, crying for you to keep her safe, then what good was one's word of honour elsewhere? If you break one covenant, the other is meaningless. Words of ash spoken casually to obtain what you want. Max Bishop couldn't do that.

Max Bishop couldn't look himself in the mirror the next day if he had simply left the two girls here anyways.

... So actually it wasn't that hard of a decision to make. Our humanity got us into this and only our humanity will get us out of it.

"Let's go."

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe?"

"Where is that?"

"I don't know, but I sure as hell know it's not here."

So, with Reverie and Alligail in tow, Bishop would lead them and the trusty and capable Bryce (who is quite the young lad, and will surely grow into an ever better man) out of the depths of the Gaol and onto the Barrack's grounds. A carriage would be commandeered (with heated words exchanged), the four would be riding off to into the east, disappearing into the night. Leaving nothing but questions and angry demands in their wake.

As for the consquences? Bishop would remember the young elfling's words well....

"They will kill you."

"They will -try-, but I won't let them."

[Vanidor]

The letter that made it's way to Coriolanus Helstone's office was written in a precise hand. It was almost as if the cold fury of the writer was portrayed in the sharp angles and narrow curves of the script put to paper from pen. It was left attached to the front of his Baker Street offices' door with a knife that was a handspan long, the entire tip buried into the wooden door. Seperately, another packet was delivered. This was a copy of the letter written by the two children before their escape.

This is what your diplomacy and soothing gestures have cost us. Two monsters in the guise of innocent children lost to the street, and two men duped into taking them from the confines of the Barracks. This is what hesitance does, and why things must be done with complete conviction and directness.

So be it, the town will suffer what you and the rest of the council have wrought by staying my hand in the matter of the two children. The Lord of Chaos will not rule here in Myrken, nor will the drow. And so I shall go to slaughter them all, before they can capitalize upon this failure of ours.

Good Day.

Kerrak

---------------------------------

Another notice would be posted at the gates of the Barracks, almost at every door it would seem. Also, as it happened, this missive would be presented to the gates of the Brotherhood garrison just outside of town, the recently rebuilt and renamed Fort Sumpter.

To: All Brotherhood Members
From: The Office of the Captain

First: Maxwell Bishop is hereby relieved of his command pending an investigation on the circumstances of the escape of two prisoners from the Gaol and Barracks. His whereabouts are to be reported to command level officers or to a Sergeant on Duty. He is not to be detained, but is to be notifed of this change in status and that his presence is requested at the office of Captain al`Nerun

Second: Brother Bryce Larose is also sought for any connections involving the escape. If he is seen, he -is- to be detained and brought to the Barracks pending review.

That is All

Kerrak al`Nerun, Captain.

------------------------------

A third, shorter letter would be delievered to Giscard. A copy of the letter written by the two girls would be sent to him, wrapped up in the parchemt from the other. It was in the same script as the first, but more... subdued.

Giscard,

You should be happy, your wish will come true, it seems. I shall not be leaving for a short while longer, just don't tell Helstone, and when I -do- go, Aeryn will be in command. Bishop, as far as rumour says, is the one who led them away.

Kerrak

[channe]

'The men,' they say, as if they were all men in the Brotherhood --

-- because, sometimes, it's the women that get the job done.

One of the adjutants will go to find the duty officer, and the duty officer will rouse the sergeant; and the words, mind, are this: that Sister Kaczmarek has brought in Bryce Larose, and that he waits in the cell that was once Alligail Johnford's, smoking a pipe amidst the dried vomit that has yet to be cleaned.

No doubt, Kerrak will hear of this.

***

Helstone sleeps; his answer will come on the morrow.

[channe]

Lothbury burns, and the whereabouts of its lord are unknown.

A certain barrister hears this information from the lips of the gossips haunting the door to the bakery below; he interrogates them, this time, instead of tipping his hat and smiling nicely; afterwards, they wonder amongst themselves: [I]“…have you ever seen him like this?â€