They were known as the Kray brothers. Three rogue illusionist mages who enjoyed causing trouble, stealing wenches against their will, and stealing money from poor villagers. They were wanted throughout the guilds in most towns, mages and mercenaries alike. They were just downright bad people, but, they never killed. They were more so a pain in the ass as opposed to as a threat. Still, they required exterminating and that was on his mind – obliteration to the highest degree along with the reception of their bounty. Clyde had been chasing these three from five towns back and, almost each and every time, they had been giving him the runaround. After all, they -were- illusionists. They were known for their not so simplistic defeat. It gave him a headache, but, he wasn’t about to give up. Nope. Not with all that loot on their head that could buy him food and shelter for a good bit. Of course, he wouldn’t use it as a weapon upgrade. Nope. Not on his old faithful sword, even though he hardly used it.

The sword was a passed out relic, per say, given to him by his father. His brother was also given a gift similar to such, but, if he kept it, Clyde wouldn’t know. He hadn’t seen his brother in years, ever since that day the dragon destroyed his village. Then again, that was probably the last time he saw a dragon, too. It was weird how life had similarities with a series of events. Was it a sign of the future? Was it something that pertained to his destiny? It was hard to tell what was to come, except that he wasn’t about to let these three men with magic tricks get away from him for a sixth time. It was getting out of hand and he wasn’t about to have it damage his pride. The boy had been on their tail since the last village and carefully placed his brown leather boots upon the crunchy grass in tracing their footsteps. He wasn’t the greatest of trackers, but, he had enough evidence that they had been going in that direction.

His vivid red eyes scanned the vicinity until he heard of a noise up ahead, which immediately ceased his progression. Hastily, Clyde dove into the bushes for concealment, as silent as air. Once a short time had passed, the man crept across the earth, faintly soiling the blue sleeves of his jacket. It was when he smelled the scent of ash, did he once again stop. They had made a fire. After all, it was just beyond sunset and the shadows of the land grew more and more. Eventually the moon goddess would cast her evening gown upon the remainder of the earth and shrouding it in nightfall. The eyes of the solo mage squinted and gazed from behind the evergreen bushes to observe the three brothers around their campfire, enjoying what seemed to be a successful looting mission: bags of gold, food, and wine of course. It wouldn’t have been successful without the wine. Clyde took a silent breath and began to plot his method of attack, which ended up him placing his hand upon the earth and using the soil’s moisture as a conductor.

The man’s hand began to illuminate a blue glow and he whispered words of an incantation. Suddenly sparks began to flare and a bolt of electricity dove into the ground, vanishing from sight. Within a few seconds, the fire pit that the Kray brothers build erupted as if it was struck with lightning. The boys yelled in fear and fell back at the explosion, but upon recollection of their composure, they resurrected in a battle stance. Clyde smirked, fully aware that the ground was still charged and sent another wave of power in their ‘area’, aiming for one of the brothers. The boy screamed as he became electrocuted before dropping to the ground, motionless. “Reeve!” shouted one of the brothers as he immediately ran to the corpse of one of their siblings. “What the hell man? What the fuck is going on?” spoke the other, darting his cold eyes back in forth in search of the reason behind this madness. Clyde then leapt from his position, over the bush to land behind the other brother.

He swiftly drew his sword and held it to his neck, “Me.” With his other hand, he grabbed the guy’s shirt and gave him the same fate as the other brother – electrocution. That left one remaining brother, which Clyde then faced. The last one standing was the eldest and apparent “strongest” according to their description. Clyde slowly inhaled and exhaled as he waited to see when the man would strike. While he waited, Clyde whispered the words, “Lightning Body,” and a bolt of lightning began to consume his entirety from feet to head. He was now a walking conductor, able to electrocute and burn anything he would touch. “Impressive,” stated the eldest Kray brother, “Let’s see you can kill the right one.” Within an instant, there were five of the last brother standing, each one identical to the second. Clyde scanned the lot before looking up and observing that the real one had jumped into the air, coming down for an attack. Clyde immediately drew his sword just as the man was falling and found himself impaled upon the sword of the lightning mage. The illusions vanished in the blink of an eye, as did the effect of lightning on Clyde.

The boy slid the man off his sword and wiped it clean off on the dead body’s clothing. He then took their identical talisman off their belts to represent his kill. “I guess that’s it, finally,” Clyde spoke aloud as he observed his aftermath. Before he left, however, he grabbed the bottle of wine and took a good long drink of whatever was left. Satisfied, the mage was then off to the next town to reclaim his prize, which was a night’s journey. Once he arrived at the town, and then sun was high up in the sky and the villagers seemed to happily live their lives, doing what they do best. Clyde was also about to do what he did best and that was collect his bounty for finally knocking off the Kray brothers. Perhaps, he’d hit a tavern after that and get some real food. Hell, maybe even take a night or two break and just recuperate and relax.

Swords jostled along her hip, sheaths rubbing against each other like a pair of horny teenagers. Red cowl clung to her mouth as it danced behind her. Smell of burnt flesh found a way to seep through the cowl. It was fresh, bodies not long dead. Someone had been killed on this day. Given her luck, likely the same individuals she'd been hired to apprehend. Luck was never a kind mistress to her, mocking her every step of the way. If she was an actual person, Tatiana would punch that bitch right in the face. They said violence never solved anything. She liked to beg to differ. To her, it solved everything. Boys giving you problems? Knock em out. Rivals trying to cramp your style? A one two to the gut and they were gone.

Thoughts of violence only rose as she saw the remains of the camp. Three bodies laid sprawled on the ground. Charred pieces of wood scattered about the grass, remains of what was likely a camp fire. Bending to one knee, she inspected the bodies, flipping them over, examining what might have killed them. Two were burnt to some degree, hair jutting into the air. Shocked maybe? The other had a wound just below his chest. Varying deaths might mean she was dealing with a tandem. Two souls who had stolen her rightful pay yet again. She was going to give them a piece of her mind, if she found them of course. If she could find the brothers, she could find their killers. Hands rifled through the pockets of the fallen men, taking any gold that remained behind. Sadly, it was not much. Maybe enough to get a mug of mead at a tavern. Oh, how lucky she was indeed.

Night air turned to a blaze of sunlight. She'd followed what little tracks she could in the night. It'd been difficult, but nothing worthwhile was ever easy. Some philosopher or something said that. Plenty of people in this world wished that son of a bitch had been wrong. Herself included in that list. She'd lost the trail by the sun's full rise. Going on nothing, but instincts now. They would likely be heading into town. People had to sleep and eat eventually. That she was sure of. What they looked like on the other hand, that she wasn't so sure of. One of them had a sword. That was all she really had to go on. First swordsmen she saw was getting hit right in the face. Making her walk all this way. Part of her wished it was another girl so she could knock those pretty little looks right off her face. She knew better though.

Investigation mode initiated the second she entered the town. Hands grabbed any villager she could find in the streets. Asking them all the same question, “Has a man with a sword come through here?” The reactions she got varied from person to person. Some seemed frightened, one old man in particular nearly relieved himself in his pants. Others were stuck in a state of confusion, staring at her like she was some type of monster. It wasn't her fault she didn't really have tact. She needed answers now. Being polite only delayed the information she needed. Fuck having to wait all that time. Guild master's voice fluttered into her head, 'You need to settle your emotion Tat or they shall be your downfall one day.' Downfall my ass.

Anger simmered through her body as she entered the tavern. Force of her push sent the front door crashing back into the wall as eyes all shifted towards her, staring like she was some weirdo. Body told her to just try to fight everyone in the tavern. No, in the whole town. Mind however was invaded by the guild master's voice yet again. “We are protectors not aggressors Tat. Remember that, always remember.” His magic had to be some form of telekinetic bullshit. Always weaseling into her head when she was about to do something dumb.

Finding an open table near the back she took a seat. Left leg crossed her right, white complexion of her skin visible from the thigh down. In the most polite way possible, she ordered a hot tea. Small waitress nodded, scurrying into the kitchen. Tatiana took in steady, deep breathes as she tried to settle down, ignoring any wandering eyes in her direction. “Just stay calm. There are other jobs.” She whispered to herself over and over again.