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Corrin - Marketplace, Alabar, Branchwood

"Thank you," she said sweetly, managing a few more sniffles for effect. She noticed the guard eyeing her and wondered if she could make use of this. As she took the silver her fingers brushed his hand oh so gently, and she smiled with just the tiniest hint of seductiveness. "Perhaps we'll run into each other again, sometime." Then she thanked the other guards and hurried off, melding into the crowd.

She felt a little bad about tricking him. He was nice to her, after all. The unnoticing spell wouldn't work on him now, but she might be able to get information out of him if she could manage to "run into him" again. It wouldn't be the first time she had used her looks to get what she wanted.

As she was talking to the guard she had noticed two people emerge from the abandoned building, the fugitives from Atles, she guessed. So it had worked. She needed to contact them somehow and find out what was going on. She followed the hooded figures at a distance, not wanting to draw the guards' attention if they were still watching her. Once she made sure no one would see them she had to let the person know that she was on their side.

As she hurried along after them she noticed that one of the guards was following them. The hooded figures seemed to notice this also, for they started moving faster, winding around several streets. Corrin hung back, watching carefully. The guard managed to lose his prey but Corrin did not, using the magical amulet, and she followed them into the alley where they entered an old, dilapidated house. The smell was horrible. Making sure no one was watching, she slipped in through the door.

"It's okay, I'm a friend," she said, holding up her right hand so that she wouldn't be attacked upon entering. With her left hand she reached into a pocket and drew out her brooch which bore the symbol of the Atlesian military.

Vejjen's eyes widened when the girl began to flirt with him, his cheeks adopted a slight reddish hue. His heart sank slightly as she began to leave, he tried to reach and grab her sleeve, calling out, "Hey, why don't you and I get an ale or something", but it was too late, she was already swallowed up in the crowd. Being a guard he stumbled across all kinds of things, drunks, beggars, people who thought they were dogs, extremely unintelligent fugitives, but, he'd never been approached like that. Guards weren't respected that way, they were feared, any act of kindness would usually only lead one to believe they were trying to get something in return.

Vejjen turned around, three guards were laughing hysterically behind him. "Your redder than my grandmother was when she found me hidden stash'o'magic beans...if you know what i mean", a guard laughed.

"Vejjen, my friend, anytime a woman does that, she's just trying to set you off your game, or she wants a favour done for her", another guard chuckled.

"W-why couldn't she have just, found me...um...interesting, you know, I'm young...and all that", Vejjen exclaimed, studdering, trying to level his confidence.

"Aww, cheer up mate, we'll go for ale tonight, the four of us, aye?", the last asked rhetorically patting Vejjen on the back and resuming watch.

Vejjen sighed and did the same, he didn't even have her name...

[[[[See ya'll in a week]]]]

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"Size Matters Not"

Proud member of the D.I.C.A.
Floaty Cube, 4/880 experiance points

Vikilrok walks around the market looking for a booth or store that sells the wares inwhich he needs. After a rather frustrating hour of searching he finally gives up his dignity.
"Excuse me kind sir." asks Vikilrok to a guard with a great smile apon his face.
"Huh?, oh. What do you need?" The gaurd asks wiping the tears of joy from his eyes.
"Oh, well."Vikilrok stammered as he eyed a extremely red faced young soilder. "I was looking for a good place to get a good wine."
"Oh, I know a good place!" Vikilrok didn't see the sly look th gaurd gave the others. "This is where you go."
After a long winded conversation of directions Vik sets off.
Winding across and through, alley after alley. Vikilrok starts to smell or horrid smell. "Good this be a cheese maker's house?" As Vikilrok opens the door he sees three people in a abandoned house. "Uh-?"

((Okay, see ya, Oracl. Have fun!))

Evie: ~Old House, Garbage Dump, Alabar, Branchwood~

She managed to think This guy is really weird before Aerandir took her by the shoulders and guided her away. Suddenly intensely curious, she had to stop herself from looking back at him to see the direction he was going in.

She did not complain about the smell of the house. Sorcery students frequently had to make potions out of the most foul-smelling roots and herbs imaginable; in comparison, this place was practically a rose garden. So she settled into a chair and scarfed down the bread. As much as she hated to admit it, right now she needed him.

She'd just finished her meal when a second person entered, bearing the Atlesian military seal.

Now this was interesting. With nothing but silence for days, Evie had started to assume that Atles would use the Academy as a scapegoat. But no, they were prepared to help them. She wasn't sure if that was good. If the Atles government blamed foolish renegades at a flighty magic school, then they could avoid full-scale conflict. Intervention was a sort of Okay, bring it on, Branchwood move.

"So Atles has come to a decision about the situation, I take it?" Evie stood, her hands on her hips. "I'm Evie, student of the Sorcerer's Academy, as well as cousin to the missing princess. Who do I have the pleasure of working with?"

Just then the man that she had bumped into earlier barged in. Now she was really surprised. "You're..." ...that weird guy...

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Love the hue.

Aerandir~Old House, Garbage Dump, Alabar, Branchwood~

Aerandir had stood up, only able to take one bite of the bread, his hand on his sword. He THOUGHT this was a good place to hide... but the woman bared the Atles military crest. That's a relief.

Evie Introduced herself and asked who the other woman was... He suddenly remembered she was the one with the flowers... only able to grab a quick glance. He wasn't absolutely sure but he had a good memory.

Then the guy Evie walked into walked in... looking quite surprised at the three. Great. Now he would have to do something he rarely did.

With out saying a word he quickly raised his left arm, and the door suddenly flew shut behind the man, the spell also locking the door. Pulling out the larger of the two Ranger knifes, he quickly reversed the grip and shoved the man against the wall, The razer sharp edge of the blade now just under the mans chin, pointed up towards the brain.

"WHY did you follow us here!" He said in a hoarse whisper The blade drawing a tiny bit of blood, that trickled down the silver surface of the blade.

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((Aerandir and I seem to have posted at the same time, editing post accordingly))

Corrin - Old House, Garbage Dump, Alabar, Branchwood

Corrin looked at the two fugitives for the first time. One was female and the other male, and they both looked like they had spent several days on the run.

"Actually, Atles didn't send me, your headmaster did." She said adressing the two. "My name is Corrin. I work for a...seperate...branch of the military that not a lot of people know about." she tucked the brooch safely away in her pocket. "The headmaster of the Sorcerer's Acadamy contacted us directly when he lost track of your group. I was the only one that was sent. We're trained to work alone. It took me quite a while to get here. I don't know if since I've left word has reached Atles of your capture, or what they'd be planning on doing about it. My guess is that the King would be more willing to pin the blame on a couple of renegade sorcerers and deny all affiliation with Atles herself."

Just then the door to the old house opened behind her. Dammit, she thought, I've been followed. Corrin spun around, pulling a long dagger out of her hidden boot-sheath. Then she blinked in surprise. The intruder was a round, rather confused-looking man.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "What are you doing here?"

Then the man raised his left arm and the door suddenly flew shut. I hate magic, Corrin thought. But it was useful in this instance. Aerandir then brandished his own weapon and had the man pinned against the wall.

Athradien Sorgie - Marketplace, Alabar, Branchwood

GET HIM!

A group of Alabarian Guards brandished their pikes, swords, and what not as they chased after a cloaked figured, tearing down the street like a bat out of hell. "IN THE NAME OF THE KINGDOM THAT MAN IS TO BE KILLED! STOP HIM THIS INSTANT!" The leading guard roared again, but people only looked back from the guard to the cloaked figure as one grew larger as the other grew smaller and away from their sight.

"Wont and can't catch me..." Athradien panted under his breath, beginning to ware down as the chase continued for at least an hour. Athradien brought his head up, the hood of his cloak catching wind and flying back away from his head. The wind caught his shaggy blond hair, making it dance around in intricate ways. The sapphire blue eyes darted this way and that, trying to find an obstacle which he could set in front of the guards which would give him a ridiculous advantage.

"THERE HE IS! I CAN SEE HIM!"

The yelling brought him back to reality, and he darted down an alley way, finding his ticket out of this mess.

10 guards pilled into the small alleyway, all with their mouths agape as their prey had escaped them indefinitely. "Wha' in the bloody hell..." One of the big bad bruisers let out in an astonished, deep voice. "Spread out... he couldn't have gone too far..." The captain mumbled, his order being answered by a unanimous "Aye". The group left, though the Captain lingered for a faint second, though finally finding no use in standing there anymore and left the area.

Athradien sucked in some air from a hole in a large keg, waiting a good 5 minutes after the last grieved foot step left the immediate area. He popped up out of a wine keg, covered in a merlot. With his breathing sporadic, he looked down at his once white cloak, now a deep purple. "Sun of a..." He mumbled, sighing, "I just got this from mum and pa too..." His voice was sarcastic in a way, caring about something no where near as valuable as his life. He flipped open a part of his cloak, revealing a long scabbard which held a black hilt to a sword, the blade being roughly 4 foot in length. He unsheathed the sword, tipping the metal scabbard upside down to let the wine drain from the inside. Athradien would be worried about a rust forming on his blade, though he had already enchanted it years ago to never rust.

The slowly got out of the keg, flinging his arms and legs in a fashion to try and rid himself of the intoxicating smell of various fruits and spices, namely smelling like a vat of grapes. He put his hand to his clothes, mumbling a few words, and only a half second later, the bleached white was returning to his cloak, the wine pouring out on the ground. "There... better..." He mumbled before looking up, "Now where in the hell are Aerandir and Evie...?" He asked no one but himself. He put his hand to his clothes again, and the color began to change, along with all of his others, now a crimson red.

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((As I said, I'll only post Orin and my new chara for now while I decide what I wanna do with my other two charas.
Edit: Changing my new chara's name to what it was supposed to be. Sorry for the confusion @_@))

~Streets, Alabar, Branchwood~

Orin:

Orin had finally shook his fever. He had made himself take some spotted coralwood before going to bed; his night had been rather restless, and when he awoke a few hours later, his sheets and nightclothes were drenched in sweat, but his fever was gone. Finally, he could function normally. Now he was heading toward the marketplace, hopefully to replenish some of his more common herbs. Healing magic, after all, was costly to the healer and better left to more serious wounds.

After some hours of walking around, he had his bag half full of bottles. Mostly, they were herbs used for hemorrhaging and burns, then some garlic for the making of a cough syrup. One of the soldiers had asked for him to make one, saying he had a chronic cough, though Orin decided he had to inspect him later for more insidious diseases. He dreaded it.

It was so hot out here. He had to really resist the urge to draw out the handkercheif the green-eyed soldier had given him at camp the night the Atles students were captured. He had just washed it this morning, intent on giving it back. He was checking through his bag for it to make sure it hadn't been drenched in any powder or tincture when he felt a solid weight slam into his back, sending him stumbling. He turned, stuttering an apology already, to a soldier in armor who had a hand to his face.

"Oh, dear!" Orin said. He moved closer, pulling the man's hand down as he said, "I'm a healer, sir. Are you quite all right?"

"Uhhm. Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to stumble into you like that." The man moved his hand from his face. Orin visibly started. Green eyes peered back at him before the man said, "Well if it isn't you! You seem well."

"Well. Yes," Orin said, suddenly feeling shy as he felt his cheeks burn. "Uhm. But, p-pardon me saying so, you do not."

Geoffrey:

He looked a frail little thing, the healer from the camp. He stuttered when he talked, which Geoffrey found actually very endearing.

"No, no. It's just the heat. In this armor, it's hard to keep one's temperature down."

"No," the healer said. "Well, I mean, yes. Sorry." He flustered a bit. "I mean! I should look at you anyway. Just to be sure?"

He didn't sound sure himself, but Geoffrey decided he'd favor the man. He liked him. "Well, there's a little abandoned house back a way..." He grinned inwardly at what this might sound like to an outsider. And here we don't even know each other's names.

It was a short walk and mostly in the shade of the other buildings, but Geoffrey still felt like he was sweltering, which he was. He was never much one for hot climates. If he swooned again, he doubted the frail healer at his side would be able to drag him anywhere.

He was about to introduce himself when he heard voices and a scuffle. He put a hand in front of the healer to tell him to stop, then inched silently closer to listen in. Hefting his axe, he readied himself for any outbursts.

Corrin - Abandoned House, Garbage Dump, Alabar, Branchwood

Before anything else happened she heard footsteps approaching from outside, and voices. Well, this was a wonderful hiding place to pick, she thought. Why had Thrayden and that old magician chosen her to go on such an insane mission to rescue some inept wizards?

"Quiet," she said to the others softly. "Someone's outside."

She turned to Aerandir. "Make sure he doesn't make a sound," she said, indicating their captive. "Will that spell on the door prevent anyone from getting in here?"

She wondered if the odd man who had just come was the one who had given them away, although he wasn't dressed like a city guard, and he seemed more surprised than anything. Of all the damned smelly old houses in Alabar...

Athradien Sorgie - Garbage Dump, Alabar, Branchwood

Athradien had been walking for a good while, his only thoughts were to the fact that Aerandir and Evie would probably be looking for the most inconspicuous place to be hidding... and where not a better place but a run down Garbage Dump...? He shook his head, the stench of the wine still running rampant on his body.

He began walking around the dump, at least until he found two people, two men, one of which was fully clad in armor. Athradien jumped behind some trash, taking some cover as he unsheathed his sword, only making a small amount of noise as the metal scrapped metal. His blue eyes scanned the area until he realized someone must have been in the house, this being the only logical answer to why the man would have an axe pulled out.

Athradien paused for a second... what if it was them in there and they didn't know they were about to be ambushed...? He looked around as to find something to maybe alert the people inside, and then it hit him. He looked to the sky, seeing a small flock of yellow birds flying around. 'Perfect...' he thought to himself, pursing his lips to make a whistle. One of the small birds seemed to be distracted, moving off course and straight at Athradien, who had his right index finger straightened out infront of him. The bird lit on his finger, twitching slightly as it looked around, finally locking eyes with Athradien.

After what seemed like forever and a day, the bird leaped off his finger and began flapping its small wings toward the house. As it flew, diving this way and that, its color becoming a deep blue, Athradiens trademark. The bird found a small crack in a window, pulling itself through and into the building.

Athradien closed his eyes and could see what the bird was seeing, controlling its movements with his mind. It flew around rather erratically, landing on Evie's head and began to peck at her scalp as if it was looking for food. Before she cold swat it away, it flew to a counter next to a dirty window, and began to peck at the window as if to say, 'Outside'. It jumped into the air and began to circle around, making different turns here and there. Athradien opened his eyes and the bird left the house, its color turning back to the canary yellow it had been before as it rejoined its group.

Athradiens attention went back to the two men, if needed, he could most likely, quickly dispatch the frail and small looking one. As for the Bigger man, it would probably take himself and Aerandir to take him.

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