Murder in the Streets.

[Vanidor]

“Silus Xian Abilan Devangion, you are hereby charged with treason, and acts of sedition against your rightful Lord. Release the catch on your sword and peacefully surrender yourself to judgement.” This came from behind him. He wasn’t entirely sure how it was that this man, this… soldier had managed to figure him out. But he had spoken his true name. “Set down your blade, man, elsewise we will use deadly force.” That was how it was. Silus had been marked for death, and fled instead of receiving his judgment at Burel’s hands. Of course, his soldiers would do it for them if they had the chance… But how! How! Adon above, the man’s voice sounded familiar.

So he turned. Face twisting to first eye the guardsman that spoke, then the other four that had accompanied him. Then it dawned upon him. Or, rather, the face across from him dawned upon him. He recognized it. That just would not do. Oh not at all. “Davan. You pig-suckling swine. I should have known you would turn coat and join with that bastard. Ha! And even one of the oh so illustrious Companions! Ha! How did you do it, eh. Press those dirty lips of yours on someone’s backside?”

The soldier, Davan, tried to suppress his anger at this, knuckles whitening upon the hilt of his sword. The other four put their hands upon sword-hilts as well. Preparing themselves for what they were sure was about to happen. Davan was a member of the Companions, that elite of Thessilane. But he had not done anything demeaning for the position. Nothing! “I realized the error of my ways, sir. Now, please, put down your sword and surrender. The Duke would prefer to have you taken ali-“. He never got to finish that sentence, for Silus was suddenly moving.

Perhaps he had forgotten. Or, perhaps, he had just not seen the bright herons that paraded upon Silus’ scabbard and sword-hilt. Either way, it mattered little. For this particular portion of the town suddenly erupted into combat. Silus had drawn. Unfolding the Fan, it was called. A quick pull from scabbard and a slashing cut executed from hip upwards. It cut Davan directly across the face, splitting it into halves. He fell like a sack of potatoes.

The other soldiers, regular guardsmen from Captain Jaryll’s command, drew their weapons as well. But already one was gurgling as a sword slit across his throat. He was in motion, dredging up from memory all the arts he had learned over the years. It had been a while since he had killed… No, no. Murdered. That’s what this was. And it made his blood boil happily. Boar Rushing Down the Mountain. He cut another from shoulder to stomach, he fell bleeding. Courtier Taps His Fan. Another lost his sword, and the hand that held it as he tried to deflect the over-handed blow. Tower of Morning followed, which cut him from crotch to chin. Another died.

“You should not have listened to him… You were all doomed the moment you stepped into this alley. Just like your precious Duke!” This soldier did his best to hold back the blade that came for his heart. It was all he could do to keep steel from flesh. Then the first strike. It sliced a crimson and pale-flesh ribbon across his forearm. The next across his middle. The third caught him in the chest. “You know… it was fun. At least you put up a fight… Too bad I do not have the time to do anything… special.” The soldier gurgled. Blood gushed from the mouth, sword slipped free of chest and was wiped quickly across tunic.

“Let Burel worry, now. Someone is here to end his reign… and I mean it to be me…” The heron-marked sword flashed again, Folding the Fan, as blade vanished into scabbard. He could hear someone shouting. They had heard the rapid clashing of steel on steel. The cry of death. He turned, fleeing down the alley until he was out of sight. Crimson coat flashing with golden scrollwork, dark hair catching at the wind as he rushed off. Cavalry boots sucked at the mud left over from constant rains… and he was gone from the scene, leaving, as far as he knew, only the five dead men to tell the tale of what had happened.

[Rattrap]

"Christ, that's horrid."

Sgt. Hickensen turned away from the mess in the alley, stepping back out onto the street to try to calm the couple who had discovered the bodies after hearing the tall-tell signs of a fight. Pvt. Williams was crouched over the corpse that had lost a portion of its head, running a finger along the bisected skull.

Whatever it had been, it was damned sharp.

Hysterical sobs were coming from just around the corner, and Janis could hear the sergeant trying to calm them. She didn't envy him, but as she was ankle deep in human gore, nor did he her.

Williams moved to the corpse that had simply been stabbed in the chest; from the looks of his sword, he'd been the only one to actually fight in the massacre. She dug her hand into the wound, feeling the status of the bone.

Far, far too sharp. But on the other hand, at least it wasn't some other hideous beast...

The private wiped her hands on the dead man's uniform, straightening herself to exit the alley as well. The hysterical couple were just leaving, a little calmer than before.

"Well?" the sergeant asked.

"Cause is different, effect's all the same," Janis answered cryptically.

"Say what?"

"Nevermind. We've got a report to write and a duke to give bad news. We'd better put something here to stop any other folk from using this alleyway until we can clean it up, though..."

The Order of Straka patrol did just that before heading back to headquarters.

[Vanidor]

Burel sat in his chair, fingers rat-tat-tapping upon the wooden surface of the table. Rap… tap. The Lieutenant in the room shifted in his stiffened position, arms straight down his sides. His scabbard was empty. “So. You went to the scene yourself, yes? And you observed what had happened? What can you tell me?” He leaned forward and centered his remaining eye upon the officer. Geran. That was his name. “What did you see, Geran.”

A short hesitation. Sweat had beaded upon his brow, caught in the furrows as he frowned. He still had the distaste in his mouth from telling Captain Kerrak these details, and now he had to tell them again? “It was a short fight, your Grace. Very short. It looks as if Corporal Davan came upon the other from behind, and then initiated some sort of dialogue. I… can only guess as to what it was, or who. Especially since the Corporal deemed it necessary to gather up four other soliders.” The Duke nodded, asking for their names. If proper identification had even been made on them.

“Privates Kenrithson, Jeremiah, Cage, and Hansen. They were part of the third wing, under Lieutenant Vorian.” A nod, than a wave of his hand to ducal fingers to signify that he could continue. “As I said, your Grace, it was short. I suspect that Corporal Davan died first, as he was in the fore. As to the exact order of the deaths of the others… I only know that Private Kenrithson was the last to die. At least it would seem so. He seemed to have been the only one to draw his sword and put it to some use. The report from the Order of Straka would corroborate with that presumption, Sir. I… I would surmise that it was someone very familiar with a sword, sire. Very familiar to have done such damage in so quick a time. Five men do not die with only one sword out. A blademaster, perhaps. Like yourself.”

There was quiet then, as Burel raised his fingers and waved the other to silence. He’d read the report, and had sent the Lieutenant to the scene directly. Geran, now that he remembered, had a rather keen penchant for gleaning the truth from odd situations. He wanted to make him a Justicar back in Meadowford. “Have Kerrak draw up a notice. Ten or so of them, would have to do. I will affix my seal and signature besides each. A reward for anyone with knowledge of the event, make it… ten golden sovereigns. That comes to what, nearly a hundred of those shillings they use here?” Geran nodded his head slightly. “Good. Make it so.”


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

Some short hour after that, riders would come into the township in the (by now) well known colours of Thessilane. Each would take the rolled parchment to a different locale and hammer it to the boards for such in Inns, at the Meetinghouse, posts… Ten copies, each with the Ducal seal in red wax, and Burel’s flourishing signature. Each asked the same questions. The same warnings. The same directive. The same reward. Come to the wooden-palisade fort owned by the Thessilaneian’s, or to the Order of Straka’s more permanent home of stone. The reward, a hundred shillings.

[Sherazade]

The Thieves Highway had ever been the roofs of town and village the traffic on such roads sporadic unreliable so naught could judge it.
Tonight though it wasn't empty. Jutting roofs cast shadows created places where the nimble... the agile...the patient could hide and wait. Without creating a sound Sam flexed her muscles to keep her limbs from cramping and then..... from below she heard voices, lying flat along the roof the tiles pressing into her ribs gaze of liquid honey took in the tableau below her.

.They Are Dead Men , It was a mere whisper of thought that floated through Sam's mind. How she could be so certain? Instinct ....That whisper in the dark the tighening of the gut told her this single man was infinately more dangerous than the Five he faced. Even so she found herself taken by suprise when he finally moved, When drawing of blade was so seamlessly merged with strike, yet she uttered no gasp of surprise made no sound as the first fell, she watched in rapt fascination. There was such poetry grace in the deadly movements nothing seeming wasted. One could learn so much from such an artist. A fleeting thought she did not entertain for long at least for now for although she had comitted every visible detail of the man to memory tracking him down tracing him she knew would be dangerous even deadly.

As he turned and fled at the shout in the distance she melted back into the shadows and left the scene herself. the only witness still breathing as far as she knew... the only one to have heard the words he spoke to the darkness

..........................................

It was sometime later with the sun beating down upon firey tresses that a gaze of liquid honey found a parchment graced with the ducal signiture that the mind of a thief began to ponder telling what it knew... working in myrken after all was dangerous to ones health.. people were so distrusting so paranoid an honets thief coudl barely scratch a living. Still there was hesistation death would be a certainity if word reached the ear of the one seen.. , boots scuffed in the dirt, the mud as with a flourish of ragged cloak Sam turned and walked away.

[Vanidor]

“Still no word, my Lord. In a week we should have heard from, at the least, some huckster looking for free shilling. Someone out to lead us astray. Anything. Either the thieves here are just… well, rather stupid. Or, they are afraid. Personally, I would think the latter of the two.” Geran raised the glass offered him and sipped. Across the table Burel and Kerrak both sat, the former swirling his mug of heated tea and the latter half gazing at Geran, and half reading his report.

It was the Captain who spoke up first. Burel seemed to be thinking heavily. “Scared, Lieutenant? Why do you say that… And why would you think them to not be idiotic. I mean, they are thieves after all. I can only thing of a few other things that would be lower on the chain of intelligence.” He had finally set down the paper and peered at the last of the trio. Geran paused a moment to collect his thoughts on the matter.

“Well, Captain, it is like this. The entire time we have been here, there have been only a few incidences of theft. One man was found rolled into a watering trough and his coin purse stolen. That was more or less his own fault, he should not have been drinking as much as he had been. And the other was the theft of some food from one of the feed wagons. Considering the lack of food at the time, we simply wrote it off. Doubled the guard so it would not happen again, but forgot about the incident.” A pause to sip once more from his cup. A swallow after, followed by a slight frown.

“Other than those two instances, we have had little to worry about. Either the thieves are wary of inciting your ire, or they simply have some odd sort of respect for us. Again, personally, I would more believe the former, than the latter. Though surely some of these folk may have some odd sort of respect for our banner. We did come here to help protect the province. Furthermore, there is the opti-.“ Burel had, at this point, raised his eyes from his mug of tea and settled them upon Geran.

“I would be afraid too, Lieutenant. Especially if I had seen such a fight occurring, can you think of it? One man suddenly bursting into motion and slaying five others. The report from the Order simply says that the fight was hurried. Two minutes, perhaps, from the first scream to the time the alley was looked over? Your own report believes it was shorter than even that. I would be terrified if I had witnessed that. Perhaps, it is the fact, that they do not have the proper incentive to report what they have seen.” Burel paused again. It grew rather silent in his office. The cry of a drill-sergeant could be heard. The clang of a smith’s hammer.

“Raise the reward to thirty sovereigns. That is, I believe, enough to fund a trip to over to Derry and back again. Ha! Perhaps twice, even. With enough to keep in reserve if one wanted. I cannot think that anyone would be less than willing to divulge what they may know for that amount. Also, let it be known that we would be more than willing to provide safe haven if it was requested. Go, have the old notices removed and the new put up in their places.”

[Sherazade]

Poor Sam now not only was she sitting on the horns of a dilhema but those horns were getting sharper. Liquid honey gaze had passed over the changed parchment but moments ago eyes had widened slightly and a single curse had past her lips. "what in hell am i going to do now" She muttered nimble fingers dragging through slowly lengthening tresses of fire. Turning upon her heel she began to walk away. the debate beginning all over again. Do i turn him in? Do i tell what i know? . Toe scuffed across the dirt sending a stone skidding out of her path. She could just imagine how it would go. Yes sir i was sitting on a roof waiting for a mark you see and this man walked into the alley with these five others fairly close behind him . One guy i think he was there leader or sumthing called him by this really long name . What name was that. She knew that question would be asked Silus....ummm Silus Xian Abilan devang... Devangion

Sam couldn't help but shiver as her mind trailed on to what had happened soon after, those swift deadly strikes the flash of black herons upon the hilt... and then still further to when she had encountered the man in daylght had spoken with him... No not even thiry soverigns were worth risking her neck for not when the threat of death was so real were they. Toe scuffed across the dirt again sending another stone skittering from her path . Fate was toying with her taunting her with tempation, slender form leant against the trunk of a tree arms folded as her waist cinching her cloak tigher about her.. She couldn't forget how he had moved... couldn't forget th fear she ahd felt when he had elant over her nothing was worth having his skills turned against her nothing..... and yet her mind kept wandering back to the reward "don't be daft " she muttered to herself "they're as likely to lock you up for being a thief as give you anything Anyway " Lashes drifted downward vieling her gaze and she tried to banish thoughts of what she could do with the thity soverigns.

[Vanidor]

He had harassed the pair of them for a quarter of a glass now. Words sent to tear at their decorum and their steadfastness. It had taken him some time, but in the end, he had broken them. Much like the wood-mite that destroyed the wooden columns. He had shattered their… Well, no. He had shattered his decorum. The girl-patrolman had been calmer than that. Like a stone.

It started in the marketplace. He came upon them whilst they were taking a quick break from their duties. Eating a quick meal of some sort, he hadn’t bothered to find out. But he had watched, in his weasel like way. Grinning widely whenever she looked at him, wider whenever he did. It was the man he intended to break, in any case. Words had followed then, as they moved through the marketplace and then to the quieter regions.

Calling his mother a whore. Her own was worse, the way he told it. That had been the only thing that had broken her calm. At least at first. It had finally come down to the way he described the manner in which he would defile their bodies, once they were dead. At first, the two guardsmen thought him simply foolish. A prankster willing to see how far they could be pushed. But now, the man felt his blood boiling. The woman tried to calm him. Then, when he said he would leave their bodies, in compromising positions, for their companions to find, that the man had cracked. He drew his sword and yelled something inarticulate. She had cried out as well, reaching out a hand to stop him. Silus had turned and run into an alley.

They came around the corner just in time to see him buckling on his scabbard. Gone, now, was the cackling laughter and the broken smiles. Just coldness. Coldness and death, that waited for them here in the back alley. The man licked his lips. Smiled in a serpentine manner. ”Let us see if your hide is a thin as your skin. Defend yourself!” And then he attacked. The man had his sword up. Steel rang on steel. He shouted for her to get help. Steel rang upon steel. She turned and ran.

He countered. An over hand chop that should have taken Silus in the shoulder. Yet it was blocked! Blocked by a suddenly upraised scabbard. Crimson laminate was sheared off by the blow, falling like a snowflake of leaf to the ground, Silus smiled darkly. Sweeping cut. Tower of the Morning. Silus cut his opponent from stomach to shoulder, then swept under his own upraised arm and hacked off his leg at the knee. Silus turned and ran.

She had almost made it to the mouth of the alley. Silus had done his work in quick fashion, as was the usual. The scabbard had been allowed to drop, falling into a puddle with a clash. Outstretched hand grabbed at wind-loosened hair, yanking backwards to draw her back into the alley. Her feet scrabbled at the dirt, raising furrows in the ground. Her scream rent the air. Yet it wasn’t a scream of fear, really, more of anger. Of being captured.

Hauled backwards, until a sword-point was pressed against the small of her back. Her screams ended. With his hands in her hair, Silus turned the woman about and leered in her face. The sword-point rose, swishing through the air, to press against the bottom of her chin. Crimson blood welled, there, coursing warmly down her throat. ”You… you were much harder to break… Mm. It is too bad you saw my face, saw me do what I did… I would have loved to tumble yo-“ She spat in his face. Eyes narrowed as welled up spittle drizzled down his scarred features.

”Almost as stubborn as a certain Duke I know… Well, no matter… You will die like the rest.” And the sword was driven home. At an upwards angle, upwards through stomach to come out between her shoulder blades. She released little more than a gasp. For that he only kissed her lips as blood welled up out of them. Tasted the tangy iron of human life. Silus chuckled once again. She was proud, wasn’t she. Besides, there was no time to do what he had wanted in any case. Already he could hear the shouting. Damn, they were fast here. Faster than the civil guard in Orvere. They’d simply had more practice, considering.

Silus took one quick look around, but couldn’t find his scabbard. A soft curse for that, for it would point a finger at him. It did have those Herons he was so proud of sitting underneath the crimson lamination. Maybe they wouldn’t sand the wood down to find that bit of metal. It was worth the hope. Besides, he could get another one. On a heel he turned, and fled down the another alley, just as help started to arrive…

[Sherazade]

Sam was easing herself out of a window when Silus ran down the alley , brow arched and she went completely still, half in half out of shadow. "sweet goddess don't let him look up" her mind begged the powers that be. trailing ends of green headscarf fluttered in the breeze and she waited... waited with bated breath for him to move on.

"No" her mind wailed in denial the moment the gaurds came in after him.. "Why me, why this alley". Arms tensed the strain of holding herself up and still beginning to take its toll. She was relieved when he dispatched the male and ewnt after the running woman. easing right out of the window she hung for a moment and then dropped to the ground, impact sound covered by the womans scream. Liquid honey gaze spied the scabbard in the puddle and she snatched it up. Not pausing to think about what she was doing she rolled beneath the nearest buliding , face pressed against the ground arms folded over her head. She had no desire to see to hear what was happening in the alley.

Breath was held as her head lifted and she saw the toes of his boots , he was looking for what was pressed beneath her body she knew it. and as he fled she rolled out the otherside of the buliding.

Once again she was the only witness... the only one who could turn him in, and now she also had proof she ahd not solved her dilema but added to it . Keeping to the shadows scabbard secreted beneath her cloak Sam headed for her bolthole, her safe haven, thoughts held tight within the grip of chaos.

[Sherazade]

Heart pounding the woman ran through the woods, branches tugging at her hair and clothing almost as if they were the hungry fingers of her pursuers trying to get a grip hold her for those behind. Soon they would catch her, already she could feel herself tiring, she'd been eluding them for days hardly sleeping, barely even taking time to eat and she knew soon she would have to rest and when she rested they would catch her.

She needed somewhere she would be safe somewhere they wouldn't dare to follow her. and she needed off the ground to stop leaving tracks. It was then she saw the tree root rising like a twisted thick arch from the ground. reaching deep down inside she put on a brust of speed and leapt. Foot hit the root and she reached over her head hands catching the branch over her head, forward momentum carried her up and over feet coming down to rest on the branch she pressed against the tree trunk shrank back into shadow. clouds shifted took away what light there had been preventing her pursuers from seeing her tracks and so they ran right beneath herand onward into darkness.

It would only fool them for a few moments just a few, silent and as swift as shadow she swung frm tree to tree off on a diagonal she knew where she was headed where she would be safe there was just one problem if caught... No she wouldn't think about that there was no choice. and behind her she heard them coming back.

Damn it hadn't worked as well as she thought, dropping to the ground she rose from a crouch and broke back into a run... branches reached out snagged themselves on her head scarf tearing it loose causing her to fall backward, and then she saw a dark shape looming over her gleaming pearl white teeth in the dark, the flash of a blade. Hands flashed out that scabbard she had fliched lifted use to block the descending blade . shoudlers pressed into the ground and a foot smashed upward taking him beneath the chin and knocking him back. Any other time Sam would have stuck around would have finished him but there were two others comng and so she turned and ran.

.............

She was tired so tired how easy would it be to stop to let them catch her and simply die, but no Sam was far too stubborn for that. Still she almost gave up came within inches and then she saw the shadow of the fort , her destination. She raced for the corner, foot hit braced in the crevice other striking out slightly higher and she hauled herself into a nearby tree, and then out over a branch hanging over the wall. she crawled along the branch as far as she dared and then dropped from the branch to the ground, legs folded beneath her sending her to the ground she was just too tired to run anymore if those three drow came over the wall after her now they could have her.

That was if they dared to climb into Duke Burels back yard

[Vanidor]

If they did, they would discover an array of pikes and bows aimed in their general direction. Indeed, Samariah would already have a number of them dropped and leveled at her. The click of crossbow safetys being released, the swift clack of weapons lowered.

She would find herself facing a number of soldiers, ten with the lowered pikes, and five with aimed crossbows. The sergeant in command would step forwards, drawing a slender-bladed sabre. The weapon was lowered, the point angled at the woman who crumpled upon the ground within the walls.

"Great feat of dexterity to climb the tree and the wall like that. Tired you out, though... So no complaints, eh, no struggles. And we'll be taking you to see the insides of our cells... Unless you have anything else to say... come along."

The look in their eyes would brook no insolence. It was either follow orders, or find out how well she could dance with pikes and crossbow bolts aimed at her....

[Sherazade]

She heard the click of the crossbows knew there were men there but she didn't move right away, just lay there and tried to catch her breath. Not a muscle did she move until she heard someone speak to her. head came up then and a hand rose slowly to brush tangled tresses of fire from her face.

"thats not why i'm tired" voice held cultured tones, a strange unplacable accent and tips of upswept ears poked through her hair. She shuddered as she heard the foriegn words of the drow that had chased her float into the night, taunts that made her eyes flash with anger ,those honeyed depths glowing. But the drow hadnt come any futher than the treeline they weren't stupid.. and niether was she just desperate.

Hands placed against the ground and she pushed herself to her knees, not hurrying, in no way seeming a threat. It was when she finally got to her feet that she took note of the uniforms and she paled, mouth worked for a moment and no sound came out. She swallowed hard and found her voice.

"actually I do I know who's been killing your fellow soldiers" she shut up then trembled. god why had she said that if he ever found out she had spoken she was going to be dead. liquid honey depths were wide shimmering pools of fear as she eyed the sargent and she was finding it suddenly difficult to stay standing.

It wasnt the breeze that was making her coat ripple and move it was the fact she was trembling shaking from her head all the way to her toes

[Vanidor]

The soldiery would pause. The sergeant waving his hand to send the others back to their posts. They would do so, armed and at the ready for any other person foolish enough to attempt a crossing of the fortress' wooden walls. If anyone did, they'd be met with much deadlier force than the woman herself would be. In any case, the officer would nod to a pair of the crossbowmen, who would put 'bows back over their shoulders and help her to her feet.

"Take her to one of the cells, make sure she gets some water and something to eat... Change of clothes too, if she wants." Apparently she wouldn't have a say in this. She opened her mouth, and the stage was set. "I'll go find the Duke, or Lieutenant Geran... You'll have some explaining to do, miss." The last was to Samariah, then. "Rest well, I'm sure there'll be quite a few questions... Especially if it's the Duke that gets to you first." And with that, he'd wave a hand and send her off.

[Sherazade]

The stage was set indeed she would follow the soldiers without complaint ,feeling that a cell was the safest place she could be right now what with those three waiting in the woods for her. Her mind was already working on how she was going to answer some of the questions doubtless some would be about her occupation she needed a good story, a really good one. The mention of food of water made her stomach growl , the idea of clean warm clothing as well had its upside. The only thing makng her apprehensive was the thought of being turned loose, of Silas finding out she had opened her mouth. That man scared her more than the drow waiting for her......

Sometime later , Sam was dressed in an oversized shirt and a pair of trousers someone had found for her, remains of a meal left on a plate and she was stretched out on the bed, arms behind her head , trying to think, but she just couldn't do it, she was so tired, that her lashes started to droop fell to kiss her cheeks and within moments the 5' barely 2 inch tall thief was asleep scabard still hidden within the cloak she'd kept was using as a pillow .

Chest rose and fell with a steady even rhythm the scratches and bruises on her body well hidden beneath the shirt, she looked almost angelic at rest upswept ears twitching as various sounds were carried to her.

[Vanidor]

She would have been left for the rest of the night, and the better part of the next day. Left to strew, as it were. Though the conditions were, most likely, a large par better than whatever haven awaited her on the end of her late-night chase. Much better by far. Still, she was left there. A guard would come by as the dawn rode the sky and bring some food. It was little more than warmed up trail rations. Hot porriage with a small mixing of apples, a cup of water. Then word that she'd be seen later in the afternoon. If she wished to sleep longer, she was able.. The Duke would be along to see her after mid-day.

And so along he would come, to find her in whatever state she was in. Resplendant in silks and velvets, dispite the slowly growing heat that was the Myrkenwood Summer. The heat didn't seem to touch the nobleman like it touched the other men around him. Soldiers, while standing tall and straight in the sun, sweated streams down the sides of their faces, too proud to do anything about it. Sweat didn't even glisten on his brow.

He was one eyed, the patch crossing o're his face to leave his left eye in shadow. The patch was dyed crimson leather with a border of white. It matched his officers uniform. The other eyes was a piercing shade of deep emeraldine-green. The earring that drooped from his left lobe matched it.

At the hip swayed his sword, long and elegant in the scabbard. It did not... seem a part of him. It was a part of him. It was a match to another she had probably seen, really. Long and sweeping, with brilliant herons emblazoned upon the metallic scabbard. Crimson was laquered upon the rest. "So. You are the one who knows about the deaths of my people." There was no preamble, no introductions. Simply a sweeping gaze that took her in and swallowed her whole. The guards had left the room. "There is nothing to fear... so tell me what you know." And that... was not a request.

[Sherazade]

Her sleep had not been restful,nightmares both new and old held her in their bony grip. She had awoken several times with a sharp intake of breath, hand drifting to hidden scars or fearing to find new wounds. Sometime before dawn she had given up on trying to sleep at all and seated herself crosslegged on the bed, each foot resting on opposite thigh , back of right hand resting in left palm thumbs steppled over palms , breathing was turned to a calming rhythm, mind dragged into stillness, into quiet.

She was this way when the gaurd brought her the meagre breakfast, and she unfolded herself easily, waiting till the gaurd ahd given word and left before eating . It wasn't any different to what she would have been prepating for herself out in the forest .
so she had until afternoon , time to order her thoughts, revisit those images which struck such fear in her. Might as well give a full accurate accounting seeing how if Silas found out she would be just as damn had she but given his name and the fact he was guilty.

She returned to the somewhat odd seated position on the bed once she had broken her fast , went still and this would be how the duke would find her. She'd heard the echo of steps, sensed his approach and yet until he had spoken she had not looked up, lifted the viel of firey lash from her gaze.

Liquid honey depths flickered amber, as they swept over him for a brief irrational moment the word pirate flitted through her mind only to be chased away by the way he carried himself the cut of his clothing and those herons, brow arched widened a flicker of fear dancing across those shimmering pools "Nothing to fear, M'lord for the moment perhaps. However should he discover i was here that i spoke with you then ' She shrugged no need to draw her finger across her neck to illustrate so crudely something they both knew for certainity.

She unfolded herself and rose , feeling the need to stand to use all of her meager 5'2" in hieght , showing no signs of stiffness she had long ago learnt how to kept muscles from ceasing from feeling the effects of long periods of stillness. She carried herself like no other thief he had likely encountered before, there was an almost rigid sense of honour and she would not spare herself by covering how she had come to find out any of the information she had.

Fingers dragged through firey tresses becoming more unkempt for its roughly shorn lengths where uneven leaving a somewhat chaotic mass as it grew out.

"The first time I saw him I was perched on a roof waiting for my mark" There would be a brief flicker of shame . "He walked into the alley I was watching over and five others weren't that far behind him. I'm not sure why but I remember thinking they were deadmen then ." She wrinkled her nose she had gotten a little sidetracked then and she dragged herself back to the point, the very act causign her to shudder she could still see it as if it had happened but moments ago . "He killed someone he called Davan first, three others had fallen within three seemingly simple moves later, only the last managed to put up a fight though it didn't do him much good"

She paused drew in a breath she had left out details for certain but she wanted to tell him about the deaths before she gave the mans name and told she beleived she knew why he was here.

"second time I saw him kill I was in the process of climbing out a window , I can only guess he had been taunting the two that charged in after him, he killed the man first while the woman tried to run. I wasn't about to get involved I'd decided after seeing him during daylight hours I just did not want to know anymore. She swallowed " I waited till he went after the woman used the sounds to cover my dropp to the ground and my grabbing the scabbard from where he dropped it and I hid under the nearest buliding, waited for him to leave " Again she had look ashamed when her own words had given her away as a thief and it wsant simply because she was in essence caught no she was ashamed she found it a necessary evil a means to and end.

"You have something in common you and him," She turned and reached into her coat and drew out the battered scabbard offering it to him lacquer chipped away enough to reveal the herons "If this isn't enough to identify him "she drew in a breath had to steady suddenly shaky nerves "his name is Silais Xian Abilan Devangion and I beleive from his words that his purpose here is to see you dead." Despite her fear she had delivered her words clearly without a trace of a lie she had no reason to lie after all infact she was almsot hoping this would be one case where the truth would not set her free.