A strong gust of wind blew down the middle of the road that lead to the main entrance of Dalvastre, catching the dirty cloaks and torn dresses of those who waited in line, almost as if the very air itself wanted to push past the queue to get within the safety of the cities walls. the nights were often cold and the creatures and wild beasts of the wilderness tended to grow more active during the darker hours. As the sun started to fall, some of the refugees started to pull out torches, using what little flint and tinder they had remaining to create light. Those closer to the entrance though were still looking hopeful for gaining entry to Dalvastre, for the sun had not completely set yet. It made you wonder, when the doors did close for the night, would the throng of people waiting out here be shorter or longer come morning? It was grim. These people were obviously trying to get away from something. It was unlikely that everyone here were simply wanting to try and start a new life or a new career. They needed safety, protection, and it was shortly going to be denied to everyone.

Near the front of the queue, sitting in the driver's seat of a small wooden carriage being pulled by a Balvull, a six legged beast that resembled a cross between a shell-less tortoise and a bison, was a young man draped head to toe in a long dark brown cloak, hood pulled up over his head. It was unclear as to whether this cloak was hiding his appearance or protecting him from the cold. Slowly the wooden cart rattled towards the front entrance as the city guard and their pet Ablated allowed refugees through one by one, jotting down their names, professions, reasons for being here and estimated length of stay.
"The damn Empire and their lists..."
The young man muttered to himself, which caused the Balvull before him to grunt and shift it's footing, the beasts muscles tugging at the leather straps and fitting that held the cart to it with little effort. Some of these beasts could grow up to the size of an elephant and were rarely seen in these parts of the world. Balvull's were not made for warfare though. While they could easily smash down a city wall by charging into it, getting a Balvull to run in the first place was next to impossible. They were heavy, cumbersome creatures they got tired quickly if made to move any faster then what they're comfortable with.
"Don't worry big guy. We're going to get in before nightfall."
The young man's voice carried an air of confidence to it, perhaps wisdom too and it clearly calmed the large beast down.

As time passed and the sun vanished behind the giant looming city, the queue of refugees spread apart to create a clear path through the middle. The cloaked man raised an eyebrow as he leaned out from the drivers seat, causing the wooden cart to creak with the shift in weight. Peering out from behind his good, a pair of sharp green eyes were seen under the hood of his cloak, peering back down the road to see a man with a shaved head riding a horse through the middle of the refugees. Who was this guy and why did he get priority over everyone else? He carried a couple weapons at his waist and his face looked like it had seen more combat then everyone else in this queue combined. It was hard to read this guy but judging from how some of the refugees were complaining as he rode past, made the cloaked man wonder if he were another lackey of the Emperor. Shifting back into his seat and returning his eyes to what was ahead of him, the cloaked man raised his reins and tugged at them to cause the Balvull to grunt deeply, sending a vibration through the chests of everyone nearby. Begrudgingly, the beast moved to the left and tugged the cart with it to clear the path for the horseman to get through. However, as the horseman reached the front of the queue and was barked at by the city guards to return to the back, the cloaked man raised an eyebrow as his suspicions of this stranger being tucked into Gabriel Val M'ahr's pocket were snuffed out. The rest of the conversation proceeded too quietly for the green-eyed man to hear, but seeing as the city gates opened up and the horseman was allowed to pass, made him wonder who he really was.

About 30 minutes had passed since the Shaven Headed Man has passed through the city gates and the cloaked man was next in line to be inspected and probably interrogated. The sun had all by disappeared by now and it was going to be a miracle if he were to be given entry at his point. There was one possibly guarantee though but it was going to be an incredible risk. As the Balvull came to a halt before the main gates, two of the city guard raised their weapons and aimed them at the beast. A third walked up to the cloaked man and peered up at him, his face plastered with suspicion.
"Name?"
The guard asked, as an aide came up beside the guard with a quill and paper. However, before the cloaked man could answer, one of the Ablated started to squirm and shake, making some horrific, lifeless groans. It seemed to be focused on the Balvull at first but soon lumbered towards the driver of the cart. The two guards at the front of the Balvull shifted position to either side of the cart and raised their weapons up at the driver, who had let go of the reins and held his hands up in defense.
"Get down off the cart now! Submit yourself peacefully and you won't be harmed. You're aware of the Royal Decree so don't do anything stupid!"
The cloaked man glanced down at the guard barking orders at him and he flashed a smile from under his hood.
"Now now good sir, there seems to be a misunderstanding. I am a simple tra--"
"Get off the cart, NOW!"
The cloaked man huffed and raised his left hand up, pointing an index finger as if asking for a minute. Turning around and reaching behind him, the 'trader' pulled out a glass vase of herbs which carried quiet the potent stench about them and tossed it down to the guard beside him, who caught it and reeled his head back to try and get away from the smell. The Ablated instantly followed the vase and lumbered towards it, almost trying to bite and headbutt the vase with furious intent. The Ablated was tugged under control by a fouth guard who held the bindings that secured the Ablated.
"Those are Frowthorn, a crucial ingredient for creating powerful healing antidotes and everyone knows that hey carry a magical aura. It's what gives them their healing powers."

After a moment of trying to regain himself from the stink of the herbs, the guard with the Frowthorn set the vase down which had continued to hold the attention of the Ablated. With a through search of the cart and of the cloaked man himself completed, the guards seemed happy enough that there was nothing wrong and allowed passage. As the large wooden gates to the city opened up and having his vase of herbs returned to him, the cloaked man whipped the reins across the rump of the Balvull which caused the beast to rumble a disapproved groan out it's throat. Slowly plodding forth, the cloaked man glanced out behind his cart to witness the city guard call a halt to entry to the city, which sparked outrage and panic among the refugees. With a sigh escaping the drivers lips, the cloaked man steered his goods and mount through the main entrance to Dalvestre and made his way for the stables. But before reaching it, the green-eyes man took a detour and steered the beast down a darkened, deserted alleyway. Coming to a halt and hopping down from the cart, the young man glanced either direction to make sure he was alone and out of sight. Confident that he was, the cloaked figure brought his arms up before him and after a short pause, he clapped his hands together. As he did so, the Balvull and the cart vanished in a cloud of smoke which lingered before him, unaffected by the breeze passing through the alleyway. Pulling his hands apart, the green-eyed man clapped them together once more that caused the smoke to condense down into a small neat pile, within which he stuck a hand and pulled out a leather knapsack, causing the smoke to blow away and vanish into nothingness.

"Risky indeed..."
The mage muttered to himself as he wiped the sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his cloak, slinging the knapsack over his shoulder. Making his way out of the alleyway, the young mage decided a drink was in order to calm his nerves. The Ablated were so close to catching him this time... Who knew what would have happened if they did? Heading out the alleyway, the cloaked mage made his way towards the nearest tavern... The Stiltwalker's Fall.

Soft patting and the brushing down of leather was subtly mixed in with the sounds of the city as the green-eyed mage neatened himself up, adjusting the strap of his knapsack so it lay flat over his shoulder and double checking the buckle to make sure it was fastened closed. The brown leather gloves that had emerged from within the long hooded cloak then disappeared back underneath as the slender figure glanced either way down a street as he approached it. Standing still for a second and tilting his head in thought, the mage pondered the correct route to where the tavern was. There were plently to choose from dotted about the place, but this one specific place, The Stiltwalker's Fall is the one he wanted to go to.
Erm... Was it beside the stables or was it the blacksmiths?
He blinked a couple of times and came back to his senses after he heard the sound of something approaching him from behind. Side stepping out the way and glancing over his shoulder to see what it was, the young mage let out an audible sigh when seeing it were just a couple of civilians, a man and woman about 30 or so each in age.
Those accursed Ablated have made me jumpy... I have to calm down... I'll be easier to detect if I'm nervous...
Leaning back against the wall behind him, the green-eyed youth closed his eyes and took in a deep breath through his nose, holding it in for a couple seconds, before exhaling and reopening his eyes at the same time. He then continued on his way, crossing the street.

A couple of minutes passed before that familiar stench of the Frowthorn caught his attention. This was a good sign, as it meant he was close. As soon as the young man had smelt the herbs, did he now 'feel' them. It was difficult and very dangerous to explain. A lot of the civilians in this city agreed with the way Emperor Gabriel Val M’ahr III ruled his kingdom and that made being a magic user incredibly risky. Death was the less harsh a punishment if one was caught. Just look at the Ablated... They were the unlucky ones who got caught. No, it was safer not to try and explain how magic worked. Getting to safety with the main priority. Following the scent, the green-eyed mage made his way to where The Stiltwalker's Fall was located and once he arrived, the young man peered up at the sign hanging over the door and smiled to himself. It was good to see this thing again, as bizarre as it was. Making his way inside, the place was pretty barren as usual. Some familiar faces where here and others were not. The barkeep was here though and some other stranger.
Hm... The back of his head is awfully familiar.
But the mage pushed those thoughts aside as he heard the barkeep speak up, his voice projecting in the mage's direction.
"Oi, Yasuo! It's about time you showed up! You got a bar tab to pay off!"
The barkeep said with an air of annoyance to his voice. Leather padded boots creaked across the wooden planked floor as the mage walked up to the bar and brought his hand up out from under his cloak to tug back the hood of his attire.

"Yeah yeah, keep your wig on old man. Here, I got something for you."
The mage had thick brown hair, shaggy and untidily brushed back using both hands. His fringe fell down either side of his face just past his chin, framing his features. His eyes shone brighter now that they could be clearly seen, a piercing green. Tossing part of his cloak over his shoulder to create a makeshift cape, the young brown-haired man pulled the vase of fresh Flowthorn out from his garments and placed it down carefully on the bartop.
"Here you go, fresh from the Lich Marshes. That should keep the Ablated occupied for another month or so."
The barkeep was visibly frustrated. He seemed torn between accepting this as payment for the bar tab or rejecting the Frowthorn and asking for gold instead. The mage caught onto this and he smiled that innocent 'i'm a trader' smile of his and waved his hands in surrender.
"Okay okay, take the herbs and here's some gold. It's not much but it's all I can give right now."
Snapping open the buckle of his knapsack that rested upon his left hip, the mage rummaged inside before pulling out a small purse of coin, handing it to the barkeep.
"Hrmp... This isn't enough to pay off your tab."
"I am well aware of this and I'll pay you back in full and then some, if my next job pays off, alright?"
"And what exactly IS this next job, boy?"
The mage's innocent smile flashed to a smirk and he glanced at the Shaven Headed Man sitting nearby.
"Some things are best kept a secret, am I right?"

Without another word, the green-eyed youth turned his back upon the pair of them and proceeded to take a seat against the wall on the far side of the tavern, almost directly opposite the entrance. Here the mage sat down, removed his knapsack and placed both elbows onto the table, his chin burying within his hands as his sharp eyes locked themselves onto the entrance of the tavern, not shifting away from it the once.

He had finished his first drink before the young man arrived, and his presence altered the atmosphere of the room. As far as the Shaven Headed Man was concerned, not for the better. I was as the barkeep was refilling his small cup that the boy dropped the jar of frowthorn onto the weathered surface of the bar. This made things interesting.

Following the young man’s discourse with the bartender, he had him pegged as a lively local, fancying himself as something of a smuggler or trader, but there was something other about him. Something that didn’t sit well with the scarred stranger. There was only one reason why a young man like him would risk his life, or worse, carrying a single jar of frowthorn around the city at twilight. Mage
But there was something else about the new arrival. Not just the minute hum he felt in his ears, a note that would have deafened a mage, the sound of magic, something more. He couldn’t place where or even when but it picked at the carrion at the back of his mind like a raven. He knew this boy from somewhere.

He heard the boy repeat his last words and followed him with his eyes as he retreated to his table. I could not have overheard him and there was no such thing as coincidence…not here. Everything about this scenario…the bar, the frowthorn, this young mage…it all made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Something wasn’t right here.

As he turned back to the bar, he noticed the barman who had served him and another patron looking at him and talking amongst themselves. He killed the liquid in the cup and gestured for another. He would have to enquire about a room soon and perhaps if the barman knew anywhere he could find some company for the night. There was a look in the barman’s eyes as he approached.

”Is there a problem?” He asked.

”I know you…I’m sure of it.” The barman began.

”You must have me mistaken for someone else.”

”No, I’m sure of it. You’re a pit fighter aren’t you?” The barman continued. He took the Shaven Headed Man’s silence as admission. “I saw you fight…must have been fifteen years ago, whilst Gabriel II was still alive. You were incredible!

“It was a long time ago.” The Shaven Headed Man finished another cup of the D’ol Dathri whiskey and exhaled slowly.

”But you were amazing to watch. The amount of damage you could take and keep fighting was unbelievable…wounds that would have finished other men. You’re Taru the Unkillable!”

“Keep your damn voice down! He snapped before collecting himself again. “As I said, it’s a long time ago…and not everyone is as proud of my past as you.”

The barman filled an empty bottle from the cask and set it down on the counter top. It was obvious that his excitement had been quashed by the Shaven Headed Man’s outburst. The man was right though, he had been a fighter and a good one. In fact, violence had always been in his blood, it was the only thing he was ever good at… and he was very good indeed, even in his advancing years.

“Very well…” The barman said after setting the bottle down. “But I won a lot of money thanks to you. [/color] He gestured around him. “And it meant I could buy this place. So I figure you drink for free tonight. He pushed the bottle towards Taru and nodded before returning to the other drinker at the end of bar. It was obvious from their body language that they had both recognised him.

He glanced over his shoulder at the young mage and saw him staring intently at the door. The boy hadn’t ordered a drink and hadn’t said anything to anyone since sitting down. What does he know that I don’t? Everything about him made Taru nervous and he was fairly certain that those nerves would be proven right sooner rather than later. The man expected something and Taru wondered how long it would take before whatever it was actually happened.

The brown-haired mage had blocked out the other sounds of chatter and light conversation that spread throughout the tavern, keeping his gaze fixated on the door that lead outside. His face was expressionless, of which could be seen from behind his hands. Clearly he was concentrating on something, perhaps he was even waiting for something to happen? There didn't seem to be any air of worry or concern that seeped off him like a mist hanging over a bog. No, it was almost as if he had turned into a very lifelike statue. Only ever so subtle movements, adjusting the position of one of his elbows for example, was all that he did. It even appeared that he remained unblinking for the longest amount of time.
Come on... where are you?
The mage had no business with anyone in the tavern as it stood, even failing to recognize the Shaven Headed Man from outside the city gates earlier in the evening. It was only when the barkeep was speaking to another patron closer to the mage's side of the bar did the young man finally blink out of his staring contest with the door and turn his eyes to the right to peer towards the barkeep, a couple of his words catching the young man's attention. Watching as the barkeep made his way back over towards the Shaven Headed Man and exchanged words while pouring a fresh drink, the mention of 'pit fighter' followed by 'Taru the Unkillable' were enough to fully distract the mage from the door.

"They say that Taru the Unkillable would allow his opponent a free shot at him, for it was his way of judging the worth of his opponent."
The mage lowered his hands from before his face and placed his gloved hands upon the table neatly, folding one over the other. His eyes had lit up from earlier and his expressionless face had came back to life, a sly grin snaking it's way from ear to ear.
"Others say that to punch the body or chin of Taru the Unkillable was equivalent of slamming their fist into a sheet of iron. He apparently moved with such speed and grace that for an instant, he would vanish from his opponent's view before delivering a devastating strike, usually ending the match. Only the highly skilled and dedicated were able to either withstand the first blow or to even cause damage to Taru the Unkillable."
The mage snorted and squinted his eyes at the Shaven Headed Man, looking hard at his face and trying to read him, but this was proving most difficult. Something was tickling the back of his mind about this fellow. Yes, he had recognized him now from the main entrance of Dalvestre, but there seemed to be something more to that, something deeper. Ignoring it for the time being, the brown-haired youth glanced back to the door for a second but swiftly returned his focus to the Shaven Headed Man and the barkeep.

"Put a sock in it Yasuo. He said to keep your voice down!"
The barkeep grumbled at the boy before bowing his head slightly towards the Shaven Headed Man in apology. The mage just huffed and sat back in his chair, pushing the old creaking wooden furniture onto it's back legs where he rocked back and forth slightly, continuing to peer at 'Taru', if this even was him.
"I wonder if you really are him... and what brings you to the home city of Gabriel Val M'ahr if you truly are, 'Taru the Unkillable'?"
"That's none of your concern boy! Stop pestering my customers!"
The mage waved a hand to dismiss the barkeep and he frowned, looking back towards the door of the tavern once more. All of a sudden, the mage planted all feet of his chair back down and sat upright, alert. The door to the tavern swung open a couple of seconds later and in walked a simple looking civilian of the city, obviously no one of the higher standards. He was short, had hair he had cut himself and grew a thick mustache that hid his mouth entirely. As he lingered in the open door for a moment, the mage across the room stood up and flicked out his right arm, spreading his fingers as he waved his hand before him quickly. As he did this motion, a gust of wind blew from outside the tavern, rattling the windows and creaking the wooden walls. The door slammed shut hard, smacking this stranger in the rump which caused him to yelp and quickly waddle across the tavern to the mage's table where he sat down and tried to look as invisible as possible, to which he failed and made himself look very suspicious.

"Ouch! W-what was that for?!"
His voice was middle aged, around 40 or so, and sounded like he had been gargling razor blades instead of water this morning. The green-eyed youth said nothing as he sat back down and watched the stranger carefully, his expression one of seriousness. The stranger quickly shut up upon noticing this and he sat down in silence. He looked very uncomfortable. Waiting for the silence to break within the tavern as the other patrons returned to their drinks and conversations, the mage glanced to the bar and signaled the barkeep.
"An ale and a glass of water, please."
The mage got up from his chair and walked to the bar, tugging his 'cape' back from over his shoulder to form a cloak once more. As the barkeep turned away to get the order, grumbling under his breath about whether he'd get any money for this, the mage glanced at the Shaven Headed Man and sniffed the air about him lightly.
"Hrm... you got any spare Root Sage on you? As you can see, my friend here is a little anxious and I need him to calm down for me. I'll pay if you need money."
He asked openly, watching the pit fighter with a much more soft and gentle expression about him then what he had shown the short stranger on moments earlier.

Boy, the headmaster wasn't kidding when he said the security to get into the empire and her cities was a pain. He wasn't wrong about having to leave the elemental ammunition back at the academy either, since anyone who used 'magic' was taken into custody. Sky could only assume it was a different name for Dust, but he wasn't entirely sure. It'd be a few more minutes to be able to ask, with three or four people ahead of him in the line to be checked into the city. The guards were also flanked by these strange creatures, bound and looking like they were decaying or something more sinister. He flinched at their appearance, but at least they weren't Grimm. Why did they have the creatures anyway, were they some sort of weapon they used here instead of attacking head on themselves? That was the only thing he could think of, maybe they were really good at eliminating the Grimm which was why they could leave the gates to the port city open like this. Before long it was his turn, and he glanced up at the towering guard with his sapphire eyes. The last thing Sky wanted to seem was stupid, but it was better to know what they were actually looking for so he could afford getting a hold of it while he was here on break. With a nod, he started his question.

"Greetings sir, I have a question... ...What is magic? Is it like-"

"It's a certain type of special powers. You don't have the ability or the Ablated would sense it. Now hand over your weapon and passport for inspection," the guard asked in a dark gruff voice, and Sky handed them over without question. The guard grimaced, not expecting the small blade to be as heavy as it was, but after a quick inspection handed it over to Sky before glancing over his passport. With another nod he gave it to Sky, then nodded towards the gate. "Move along."

That out of the way, he figured things would go much smoother from here but he was mistaken. After having some of his money converted to the local currencies he went visiting the various terminals where it became clear that it'd be another day before he could take an airship to the capital city, and from what he could see from 'natural' travel options there were no more horses left to be rented. With a sigh he ran a hand through his hair, trying to think where exactly to go from here. Glancing around the stables he saw all manner of creature, none of which he recognized. The only one he saw that looked remotely familiar to him was the large wolves, which vaguely resembled the Beowolfs back home. Approaching the owner, he reached into his pocket and pulled out some of the currency and his passport.

"One of the wolves please," he said quietly.

"O' course o' course! Right this way!" the tubby man said cheerfully, taking the money and writing down his name and information before grabbing his keys to start waddling towards the stable with Sky by his side. "He'll take ye straight to ta capital fer sure, but there won't be no pit stops so don't expect any. After signing in with ta guard there it'll automatically take ye to the stables in the town there. Don't be tryin' ta do nothin else now, or he'll attack ye. Kill 'em and you'll owe me big."

"Understood," he replied with a nod, watching as the wolf was released. The man held the reigns out for Sky with a cheerful "Here ya go lad,", which he took as he mounted the beast. Without warning it darted forward, forcing the blond to grip onto it hard with his legs as he squeezed the reigns. It apparently had its own specialized path out of the city, with it taking its trail around the wall before exiting through the gates. The trip went incredibly fast, the speed of the creature was incredible and far beyond anything he'd experienced outside of an airship. What surprised him most though was as they traveled through the countryside besides livestock all he could see were wild animals and beasts, there was no sign of Grimm anywhere. The very idea of that just baffled him, but it only made it more clear why this place was so peaceful and productive. After all, not worrying about your life constantly would make things much easier.

Entrance to the city went the same as it did entering the port, and Sky rode the wolf into the stables. Dismounting it, he signed his name into the book under the watchful eye of the stable keeper, then nodded as he made his way out the door. Now what? Well, after all that he needed to relax and the best way to do that was to get a drink. It was getting late anyway, nothing to see until tomorrow anyway. He could probably get directions to a place to stay from the bar too, so there was that going for it too. Not wanting to ask for directions he wandered a little bit down the main streets of the city, before getting tired of the crowd. He'd kept his hand on Diamond Wing's handle the entire time, making sure that no one dared take it from him, with his other hand over his pocket to guard that as well. The last thing he needed was losing his things here, it'd be a nightmare to get home without them. Either way this was making him uneasy, so another block he ducked into one of the alleys and let out a sigh of relief. Much as he liked people, big groups like that made him nervous. Maybe he'd find something out here, and after wandering around for a while he came across a small group of connected buildings, with signage indicating part of it was a tavern and another an inn. What luck, everything he needed was in one place! Hopefully he could keep that up so long as he was around.

Upon entering the establishment, and it certainly had an odor to it. He wasn't exactly sure what it is, but it smelled... Earthy? Not quite damp, maybe the smell of some sort of plant? He didn't know, or care, just wanted to settle down for the night. Thankfully the place wasn't too crowded, with a few people scattered throughout and only three men at the bar. He found a stool on the side of the bar farthest away from them before sitting down and signaling the barkeep.

"Strawberry sunrise, no ice," he ordered quietly, earning a quirked eyebrow from the barkeep before he started to make it.

"Isn't that a little... Fruity for a man such as yourself?" the barkeep asked, and Sky shrugged. There was no need for an answer, he honestly didn't care what others thought of him. All that the barkeep needed to concern himself with was payment, which the future Huntsman placed on the the counter. The barkeep shrugged in return, before handing him the drink he wanted. "Here you go," he said, taking the money before moving back to tend his other customers. Sipping his drink, the blond's sapphire eyes wandered across the faces of those in the bar while he quietly analysed them to see what was going on. He wasn't exactly eavesdropping, just listening for if there was anything in particular he should be doing or looking for while he was in the city.

Standing here, this close to 'Taru the Unkillable' actually sent a slight shiver down the young man's spine. This man was literally said to be unkillable, hense his name. Sure, it was obvious really since there would only really be one way to earn such a title, but it was the whole meaning behind that title which was what gave the brown-haired youth the chills. 'Unkillable'. Immortal. Indestructible. He looked like any other person who had seen the sharp side of a sword one too man times, but being this close, seeing how hard and deep some of those scars were, it was clear evidence that this man was no 'ordinary' person. The mage glanced down and paid close attention to the Shaven Headed Man's hands as he refilled his pipe. That was a nice pipe. Simple in design and it was often the simple designs that lasted the longest, and the green-eyed man's sharp orbs took notice of the blunt and worn patches of stone that lined the bowl of his pipe. This pipe had been well used. Keeping his eyes on Taru the Unkillable's hands, the mage was able to get a little bit more information from this guy. He had the hands of a warrior, one used to gripping all manner of weapons, but a sword was the weapon of choice. That and those meathooks themselves. They were strong hands but were capable of the finest movements. He'd make an equally skilled artist and maybe even a doctor with hands like those. Perhaps he already was?

"Mixture?"
The mage queried before he leaned in half a foot and took a slightly stronger sniff of the air, now that there was fresh 'mixture' in the pipe of the Unkillable. Yes, there was certainly a mixture of herbs in there. Root Sage, dried Needle-Cap and... there was something else in there. Something rare... possibly even illegal, but it was hard to tell with those other flavours as well as Frowthorn in the air. Standing back up straight and folding his left arm across his chest, gripping his right elbow and tapping at his chin with his right hand in thought for a moment, the brown-haired mage nodded in agreement.
"Okay sure, the mixture will do."
As he waited for a pitch to be spared, the tavern door opened again and the mage glanced over towards the newcomer, raising an eyebrow at his bright blonde hair. That's an unusual colour, certainly not often seen here in Dalvestre. He carried a foreign air about him. His clothes looked odd and as this stranger asked for drink, so was his taste in beverage. His accent was not from these parts either. Yasuo leaned back slightly and look note of the unusual weapon strapped to this stranger's back, before he leaned forth and placed both hands onto the bar top, squinting at his face.
"A big tough guy like you, ordering a woman's drink like that? Definitely a foreigner. How'd you manage to get past the city guards? I heard the Emperor was looking for real warriors."

The green-eyed youth turned back to Taru and accepted the pitch of herbs, before nodding his head in thanks and returning to his own table with the short, mustache-wearing civilian. The mage peered at blondie for a moment as he went to sit down before focusing his full attention on the herbs. Grabbing his glass of water which the barkeep had brought over, the mage plonked the pinch of herbs within, watching as the dried Needle-Cap sunk down to the bottom as the rest of the mixture floating up top. Scooping the soaked herbs out, the mage quirked an eyebrow as he wondered what the third herb could be mixed within. Settling the mixture onto the table, the mage snapped his fingers over the sodden herbs as a spark of flame danced across them in an attempt to dry them out. A second snap and a third followed before the herbs were dry enough but not set alight. Green eyes glanced up towards Taru the Unkillable and watched as he took a drag on the end of his pipe, watching the smoldering herbs grow bright inside the bowl.
"Ground Fire Berries?"
He muttered to himself and glanced down at the mixture of herbs before him. Cupping his hands around the mixture, the mage focused his attention upon the table and started to manipulate the air between his hands, reducing the temperature between his palms gradually until small specks of the herb mixture started to freeze itself to the wooden table surface. That was the Fire Berries separated. Dragging a hand across the table towards him, the mage scooped the root sage into his palm and promptly tossed it into his companion's ale.

"Drink up!"
"You know you're going to get caught one of these days, just... doing that magic stuff."
"Yeah right, have you looked around this place? The only people who come here are those who can withstand the smell of Frowthorn. That or they're too broke to go anywhere else. Anyway, shut up about me. Have you got that thing I asked for?"
The short mustached man nodded his head and took a swig of his ale, the Root Sage almost immediately taking effect... unless it was the ale? Either way, he seemed to relax and after another large mouthful, he plonked his mug down and wiped an arm across his face.
"Yeah, it wasn't easy, but here."
The stranger slid a hand inside his jerkin and pulled out a small bag, placing it onto the table. There was a very subtle aura coming off this thing. The mage frowned at it, but quickly smiled and nodded his head as he took his turn in burying a hand inside his satchel, where he pulled out an object bound in damp rags. Untying the bound linen revealed a fragment of crystal that gave of a terrific source of light and a substantial amount of heat. A Sun Stone.
"It took me a great deal of effort getting this. If you're caught with it, you'll be executed on the spot! It's incredibly dangerous and you MUST keep it bound in this linen if you want to get past the Ablated undetected."
The mustached man nodded his head in understanding and swiftly covered the Sun Stone up before tucking it into his jerkin. Finishing his drink quickly, the stranger stood up, tucked in his chair and left the tavern without another word.

The mage turned his attention onto the bag before him and untied the string that was bound across the opening. Tipping it up, out tumbled a golden key that softly jingled against the wooden table top. Beside it landed a small dark purple orb, about the size of a marble. This was a small chunk of obsidian and the mage frowned hard at it as he picked it up and held it within the palm of his right hand.
I can feel this thing absorbing my power... It's not draining me... More like it's a block, a barrier. But this should be enough for what I need.
The young man thought to himself as he picked up the key in his other hand and glanced the object over. Nodding his head and returning both items into the bag, he retied the string and buried the bag deep inside his satchel. He then picked up his glass of water and was about to take a sip when noticing the dried Needle-Cap sticking to the bottom inside. Pulling a face of disappointment, he returned the glass to the table and pushed it aside. The green-eyed youth fell into silence and casually glanced between Taru and the blonde newcomer.

Of all the figures in the bar, two in particular garnered the attention of the blond. The first was a bald figure, likely shaven due to his age, whose scars showed that he'd certainly been on the wrong side of combat before. Sky's first guess was that perhaps this man was a huntsman of some sort, but somehow the scars didn't match what he was accustomed to. Perhaps they were from man made weapons, and this man was a soldier of sorts. After all unlike back on his continent war was still waged here, so it would only make sense that battles were fought between men with the lack of Faunus and Grimm that he'd seen since arriving. It was rude to stare though, so his eyes wandered around the bar before settling on the figure that approached the soldier. He was well groomed and kept, no less alien than most of the people he'd seen so far. He just wanted something to smoke, and without anything else to garner his attention the student's eyes fell back to his drink.

The conversation from before the interruption of the talkative fool had not escaped his attention, and more or less confirmed what he'd thought about the bald man in his mind at least. This kingdom was at war, and whether or not he was directly involved with this particular conflict he was no stranger to war. Sky himself was, after all defending people from monsters wasn't the same as a strategized attack in an attempt to destroy your fellow man, but he wasn't blind to its consequences. He'd learned well enough at the academy about that at least, and seen its ruins for his own eyes. So long as he kept his nose clean he'd be able to handle his own business while he journeyed around, and if things got rough it wasn't like he was a stranger to combat. Everything would be alright, no need to stress or make a fuss about it. He'd found a nice relaxing bar, gotten a drink, and also a place to spend the night. He couldn't ask for things to be going better than this. Taking a long sip of his drink, nearly half of it vanished before he set it down and locked eyes with the green eyed youth speaking to him. Cocking an eyebrow at him, he closed his eyes and shrugged a bit at the question.

"...I got a valid passport, besides I don't do any of that... Magic stuff they're yammering about, whatever it is," he answered quietly, but soon the man was already headed back to a table with someone else. Whatever, none of his business anyway, besides not like the man needed to know he was just a student on vacation anyway. He wasn't interested in whatever war was going on, he wouldn't fight for any army besides one from the academy. What was said between the two, however, perked his interest though he kept his eyes closed and continued to sip his drink to conceal it. Apparently he was someone capable of using magic, but if he was why hadn't he been caught? It seemed like a type of linen made it easier to hide things, but ultimately this made Sky think. What was so bad about magic, was it a sort of weapon? Plenty of people were well armed, what made it any different? Maybe it was related to Dust somehow, he had been warned not to bring any with him perhaps they considered it too dangerous to be used? Who knew, but if that's all it was he didn't see the big deal about it. No need to ask about it either, last thing he needed to do was stir up suspicion asking questions. Finishing his drink, he set his glass on the table and signaled the barkeep again.

"Another please, and a room. Don't care what it is, so long as it has a bed," he asked, and with a nod the barkeep obliged. Setting the coin on the bar, he accepted the key and slipped it away before picking up his new glass for another sip. Just a little longer down here, then he'd rest and figure out whatever it was he was going to do tomorrow.

A valid passport? Yeah those were few and far between these days. If he had blurted those words out any louder, someone may well have charged in through the doors to the tavern and attacked this blond-haired man for a chance to get hold of such a valuable commodity. The green-eyed mage just watched the blonde take his own seat and silently enjoy his woman's drink. Why was a foreigner visiting this part of the world? What reason had someone like him for coming to the city of Gabriel Val M'ahr III? A mercenary? A sword-for-hire? Had he heard of the troubles this kingdom faced and wanted to try his hand at helping out? For what? Coin? Fame? Recognition? Where had he come from? There were uncharted parts of this world, places much too dangerous to explore. Could he have come from somewhere like that or simply from the next continent over? So many questions were surrounding this blond-haired stranger and the mage felt a twitch of concern for a moment, but it was soon swept away. He was posing no threat. He even said he didn't know what 'magic' was. There was no need to worry about this guy. The mage drummed his gloved fingers against the wooden table surface and lowered his eyes down to the frosted patch of wood he had caused earlier, but he found himself looking back towards the blonde, his brow lowering and his concerned peering turning more towards a prolonged scowl.

The brown-haired youth continued to watch in silence as the blond rose from his table and returned to the bar to request another drink and a room for the night. Hm, getting some sleep was a tempting thought, but there was plans in motion right now and there was no time for slumber. The mage needed to stay awake and focused. Taru the Unkillable spoke up, but his words were muffled at this distance and not all of them were heard due to them being directed to the blonde. It probably wasn't important and it would be foolish to be distracted. But the mage was distracted all of a sudden as he thought he felt something outside the tavern, something powerful and frightening. Being distracted from being distracted, the green-eyed mage blinked and looked up to see the figure of Taru the Unkillable standing at his table. Jeez this guy was huge... The Shaven Headed Man's voice was very distinct but his words were pretty vague.
'They?'
The mage thought to himself as he cocked an eyebrow at the Shaven Headed Man. His question was answered without him having to ask, but the mage scoffed and waved a hand before him dismissively, chuckling a couple of times as he shook his head from side to side.
"Look old man, if there was an Alpha out tonight, I'd have--"
The mage's pupils shrank and his face turned pale, causing the mage to stand up and dash across the tavern, knocking his table over and causing his water and dried Needle-Cap drink to smash into shards against the floor. Clambering up to the dirt stained window, the mage wiped a glove across it to reveal the outside world.
"Oh Gods no..."

There was a eerie silence in the tavern with only the wind howling through the cracks of the windows and the distant shrieking of an Alpha making any sound. It was a hideous sound, even at this distance, like someone was screaming for their life but had screamed so much already that their vocal chords were torn to shreds. The Alpha could feel something but whether it was the Sun Stone or the mage himself, Yasuo didn't know and he didn't plan to hang around to find out. He whirled back around and returned to his table quickly, picking it up and placing it back onto it's feet as he snatched his satchel from the back of his chair and slung it over his shoulder before he sprinted back across the tavern to the door, where he creaked it open a fraction and peered through the gap into the darkened street. The groaning of the Alpha was getting closer, but the mustachioed stranger would not have got too far away so it was still hard to tell which way the Alpha was heading.
I've got to get that Sun Stone back before the soldiers get it...
The green-eyed mage glanced back over his shoulder and after a second, he started to smirk.
"Hey Old Man, Blondie, you guys better get out of here pretty quick. Barkeep... It's gonna be a few extra days before you get your money, so I apologize and please bare with me a little longer!"
The mage rubbed the back of his head in slight embarrassment before he tugged up his hood, turned about and disappeared through the tavern door into the night.

Heading to the middle of the street, the mage took a couple of deep, slow breaths to calm himself. Lifting his right arm up over his head, the mage extended his fingers as if he were about to catch something, before throwing his arm down and summoning his Mage's Staff into his grip with a flash of light. It was a pretty bland staff in all honestly, about 6 ft long and appearing to resemble an ordinary shaolin jo staff with dark green cloth wrapped about either end and in the middle.
"Okay, let's light up this beacon for the Alpha; give all the Alpha's something to focus on!"
The brown-haired mage extended his left arm up over his head and spawned a sphere of flame within his palm which gave of brilliant light and cast a glow down both ways of the street. Bringing the sphere down to his staff, the mage transferred the flame onto one end where it seemed to grow in both size and brightness. Yasuo's staff was pretty much a catalyst; a booster of sorts, to power up his basic spells. Taking grip of the staff in both hands, the mage brought the weapon up over his head and span the staff about in a few full rotations before he swung it down like it were an axe. As he did this, a swirling torrent of fire spawned from the skies overhead and crashed down onto the roof of a building down the street, crushing the structure and setting it ablaze in mere seconds. The green-eyed mage turned tail and dashed as quickly as his legs could carry him away from the inferno. That ought keep the Alpha distracted for a couple of minutes until the echoes of the arcane song died down again. A couple of minutes, that was all he had. The soldiers, and perhaps even Gabriel himself, would have seen such a thing and it was only a matter of moments before the entire city was put in lockdown.

So much for enjoying his drink and resting the night. No sooner than he'd sat down for that sip did a warning come from the soldier, before he made his way towards the guy that used magic. Why would he have to leave? He cocked an eyebrow at the older gentleman's words, but remained silent as to keep from creating a scene. Was he planning to do something about him using that spell? Really, what was the big deal about magic anyway? All it seemed to be was being able to use the power of Dust, different from aura in nature but similar in the way it manefested from the person using it. Was it really so dangerous that it had to be regulated so harshly, it wasn't like he could destroy a city or something with it right? Even with dust you'd need a huge amount of it to do such a large amount of damage, the thought that a single person could wield such enormous power just seemed ludicrous and insane. Impossible really, then again so seemed the ability to use essense like Dust without using it so perhaps there was more to this than he understood.

Instead of questioning or aprehending the young man the soldier gave him a warning, mentioning the Ablated and an Alpha. Was the Alpha a different type of monster, or just a more powerful version of the Ablated? He didn't have time to ponder the situation though for as soon as the word 'beacon' escaped the man's lips a soul wrenching shriek echoed through the air. Terrific, not even one night here and he was already finding himself wrapped up in some sort of trouble. Sky knew he had to really tread lightly, if he was identified it could mean trouble with him trying to get home once all this was over. With that in mind, as the other man panicked he pulled at the part of his cape wrapped around his neck and pulled out the hood which he quickly brought up over his head. He'd seen plenty enough of cloaked figures suring the night, at least it'd help keep him from being identified if he got involved. After that he stood up, pulling parts of the cape out from under the front part of his covered armor so that it better hid his arms and weapon before he turned and faced the door after the guy fled.

"Wouldn't running just make us look more guilty?" Sky asked as he glanced over towards the soldier. It wasn't like he and the barkeeper were rushing out the door, neither were the few patrons here for that matter. It wasn't like he couldn't fight his way out of here if he needed to, he was confident enough in himself to be able to handle a few men on his way out the door if need be. Those Ablated were a different matter, but between his attire and semblance he felt he could get a good enough difference to vanish into the night without being identified if it came down to that. There was a good chance nothing was going to happen at all, but then again with the open door there was sure to be suspicion as to if the guy had been here and depending how this regime worked they could just be guilty by association and face trouble he didn't want to deal with. It was probably in his best interest to take sides in this, but which one was right? He didn't see the harm in magic, but the powers at be were weren't they?

The flash of light outside drew his attention and Sky went to the window to see the flames coming from one of the houses down the street. Damn, guess this guy wasn't as good as he seemed. Even if he was just trying to evade the law for a petty crime, doing something like this was just wrong. What if someone lived there, he'd be putting everyone inside the home at risk! No, the damage of the building made it abundantly clear: if anyone had been in there they were now dead. This made him clench his fists, but this was no time to let emotions get the best of him. He needed to think, and fast. What really was the best course of action? He could get involved with chasing down the crook, but this wasn't his home nor his war. Sky knew he wasn't a full blown Huntsman, but it was his job to protect the people regardless right? Granted the responsibility truly landed in the guards headed their way, but would they bother helping the family with someone so powerful on the run? The Ablated didn't seem the type to rescue people after all, they were just monsters designed to sense and perhaps attack those with.

"Tch,don't know what's going on but we can't just let someone who'd kill a family by destroying their home go on a whim can we?" he said cooly as he looked over his shoulder at the soldier. No matter how fast the mage was it wasn't like Sky couldn't catch up to him with the help of Diamond Wing. Normally he'd just dart out there after him, but without knowing the customs of this land he didn't want to get himself anymore involved than was necessary. That's why he looked towards the soldier for answers, he definitely knew what was going on and would likely follow the course of action that best suited the situation. Even if wasting this minute or two brought him into conflict with the guards, he wasn't afraid. Whatever happened next was likely to spell out how the rest of this trip was going to play out, and he wanted to make sure he was doing the right thing before charging blindly into the night.

Only mere moments after having cast his larger spell within the streets, did a chorus of shrieks and pained groans wash over this area of the city from both the Ablated and the Alphas. The patrols who only had regular Ablated seemed to stick to their set routes, and it was only the groups with an Alpha in tow that went off the beaten track to check up on whatever caught the Alpha's attention the most. The Alpha groups, like the one confronting the Shaven Headed Man, had two additional regular Ablated. If something piqued the interest of the regulars but not the Alpha, then the patrol moved on their way. In Taru's case, all three of these creatures were groaning and moaning, though not at him. There were still echoes of the arcane within the air and the mage himself had not long vanished from view, having ducked into an alley only seconds before Taru had emerged from the Stiltwalker's Fall. The protection of the shadows in this alley were going to do absolutely nothing to mask his presence from the Alpha. He might be invisible to the Guards and Soldiers, but the Ablated would see him as if he were a lit candle set in the middle of a darkened room. Even if the green-eyed mage cast a spell of invisibility upon himself, his own arcane aura would still be detectable by the Ablated. They'd not be going crazy over nothing at all, so the Guards would grow suspicious and investigate. Any brisk movement when invisible could potentially shatter the spell. No, it was far too great a risk. The only option was to get as far away as quickly as possible, or, create more arcane echoes to hide himself in.

Stupid! How did I not feel them approaching?!
The mage's fists were clenched tight as he dashed the length of the alley but quickly came to a walk when reaching the exit, where he poked his head out and glanced either way down the new street. There were a few civilians dotted nearby, gathered in shock and fear as they looked in the direction of the smoke rising up from the previous street. There were murmurs about hoping no one was hurt and who could have done such a thing, but they were all preoccupied with the glow from the blaze lighting up the sky to notice the cloaked and hooded figure watching them in turn. The brown-haired youth looked over his shoulder when hearing the commotion coming from where he had ran from. Was that the Shaven Headed Man? There was definitely the shrieks of an Alpha back that way and it will only be a matter of seconds before the withered creature caught the mage's scent. What was he going to do? Well firstly he needed to get his hands back upon that Sun Stone... She of the Veils only knew what torture would be subjected onto the Moustached Stranger if the Emperor's Soldiers were to get their hands on him and find such a powerful relic. Well the mage's future wasn't looking too bright either. He had already defiled the Royal Decree by casting multiple spells within a governed realm. That was a typical flaw of the young spell weaver; always leaping before he looked.

Fine, no more spells. I've got to relax and calm myself... It's hard to keep my arcane powers under control when I'm stressing out. Heh, he was right... a lit beacon indeed.
He thought to himself and smiled as he laughed within his mind. Taking another glance over his shoulder to see if the Alpha Patrol had ventured down the alley, the mage briskly walked out the alley and turned left, heading back towards the main entrance of Dalvastre. The green-eyed mage pulled his hood down and wiped a sleeve across his sweaty brow before he pulled his cloak up and tossed it over his shoulder to form a cape once more. It won't fool the Ablated, but if a patrol of Soldiers without any Ablated saw him, at least he'd look a little less suspicious. Continuing to walk down the street, he came to a large open square that housed a large water fountain. It was a little out of place in a city like this, but some of the folks who lived here had built it to try and make the city less of an eyesore. It's waters had run dry though and now it was more a dirty, worn monument. The statue adoring the centerpiece had been eroded away by both wind and weather, so whoever, or whatever it was, was unrecognizable. The mage frowned as he stared at the monument and for some reason, felt a subtle wave of guilt wash over him for leaving both Blondie and Taru the Unkillable behind. That feeling was soon brushed aside as he reminding himself he didn't know either of them and that they'd more then likely turn him into the Soldiers to save their own hides. But then he blinked as he pondered about the Shaven Headed Man. While he knew his name from the stories and rumours, he'd never seen him personally before. So... why DID he look familiar?

A blood curdling screech echoed over the rooftops from a fair distance away, spooking the mage and breaking him free of his thoughts. That was another Alpha and by the sounds of it, this one was also female and she must have come across something with extraordinary power to cause her to scream like that. The mage's heart stopped for a second before he broke out into a sprint, moving as quickly as he could in the direction of the scream. Dashing across the large square and taking the street heading north, the mage ran down the cobblestone road, doing his best to keep his balance. The Alpha was getting closer now, her screams growing louder and louder. Then came the sounds of a scuffle, armoured men shifting their weight as if they were uploading goods from a wagon. Quickly coming to a stop, the green-eyed mage poked his head around the corner to notice an Alpha Patrol. Eight Soldiers, two Ablated and one Alpha. Two guards kept an Ablated each under control and two more held back the Alpha. The remaining four were gathered around something, all of them kicking it violently. The three Ablated were going crazy, all focusing on a small object near the group of four. The object was wrapped up in some type of linen cloth and it looked damp. That was the Sun Stone and the object the four Soldiers were gathered around must have been his Moustachioed friend. This was barbaric... Why? Why was everything that had a trace of arcane about it, considered a bad thing?
I can't watch this anymore...

Moving out from the corner and into the street, the mage re-summoned his staff into his hands. Extending his left arm out before him, the mage held out his hand and gripped his fingers about an imaginary sphere. A snowflake appeared hovering over his palm that started to spin about, gaining momentum quickly as several other snowflakes spawned in, creating a miniature blizzard within his grasp. The Alpha was still focused on the wrapped up Sun Stone, that giving off a far greater arcane aura then the mage's spell. As the mage brought the tip of his staff to his palm and converted the spell into the catalyst, the Alpha lurched her head Yasuo's way and started to shriek at him. It was only when she lurched her body afterwards did she attract the Soldiers who were holding her shackles to his presence.
"Oh shit!! It's a mage!! He's casting!!"
One of the guards yelled which caused the other seven to stop and look in the same direction. Swords were drawn and crossbows were aimed, but it was too late for them.
"I'm so sorry..."
The mage whispered as he extended his right arm and pointed the staff to the center of the patrol. There was a flash followed by a loud crack of solid ice as several sharp icicles erupted out of the center of the patrol, impaling and stabbing into everyone there, including the Moustached Stranger. It was pretty much an icicle grenade going off.

Bodies fell to the floor and a couple of them groaned in agony as some of the solid ice shards had missed vitals but rendered them immobile. As the mage approached, one of the guards spat curses at him, mumbling something about tearing his head off or something. The mage wasn't listening. Instead he stopped beside the corpse of the Moustached Stranger and shook his head from side to side at the state his body was in. He had been suffering for a while. Arms were broken, knees snapped, groin crushed, head bludgeoned. If it weren't for that bloodied moustache, he'd not have recognized him. A shard of ice has struck his chest, most likely ending his suffering instantly.
"I shouldn't have let you leave... I should have been more observant... Stupid... I'm so stupid..."
The mage knelt down and closed the Moustached Man's eyes with his palm, running it down over his face.
"You can rest now. She of the Veils will take care of you."
The brown-haired man got back to his feet and turned about, collecting the Sun Stone from the ground and returning it to his satchel.

So it wouldn't take evidence to determine whether or not someone was innocent, this continent still relied on superstition as part of its proofing system. Terrific, that just made determining the line between black and white all the more grey. That coupled with his acceptance of the deaths of the family down the street made him wonder whether or not he should really be trusting or listening to this soldier, but at the moment it was more important to save his own hide than it was to contemplate moral dilemmas. He then spouted about paths and told Sky to leave the city, the former comment which he pushed to the back of his mind for now before he nodded. Something was going on here, something big, and he needed to make sure he didn't get too caught up in it for his sake and the sake of his team members back home. The blond still felt off about just leaving innocents like this... Though that was something he could work out later on, maybe.

Another comment to the bartender and he was gone, leaving the huntsman alone with the bartender. The hesitance of the man to follow through with the orders given to him were obvious, so Sky quickly drew his blade which expanded through its joints before being filled in from additional plates from with him. With a single swing he broke the support of the shelf, quickly causing the shelf to collapse and its Frowthorn to crash into the ground while Sky made his way towards the steps. It was easier to escape into the night through the back, that way whoever was coming wouldn't see him and with his black attire combined with the cover of night he'd disappear like a ghost. He stopped at the base of the steps only long enough to toss the keys to the bartender before he quickly darted upstairs and with a quick smack with his sword's hilt broke a door knob to one of the rooms facing opposite the front door. An open window and a stab into the wall later he flipped himself onto the roof, using the force of it to yank the blade out before he snuck to the top using the peak as cover while he looked out over the scene playing before him.

Having missed the beginning of the altercation, Sky could only guess what had brought the soldier to this point. Why was he compelled to check on what was going on, to see if what had been said was right? This really wasn't his business, he would be better off just doing what he was told. Still though, the blond had a sense of feeling responsible when he didn't do what he felt was right. If he just left, how many other people would fall victim tonight because of the magic user's actions? Wouldn't he be just as guilty as the magic user if he refused to do something about what was going on? Shaking his head, he snapped himself out of thought to really focus on what was being said. The soldier was claiming his innocence, but the guard on horseback was having none of it. Sky let out a sigh, 'Typical,' he thought, 'Want to make a name for yourself without checking the facts, fame by any means necessary.'

Bad as this line of thinking was, it wasn't like he wasn't trying to do his job. Besides the soldier could handle himself, he'd be better off trying to take care of the magic user before he left if he wasn't going to just leave the city. He turned from the scene, still undecided about leaving or chasing down the magic user but was unable to move as the words said earlier decided to enter the front of his mind.

'You can either let villains carve out your path for you as the hero or you can carve your own.'

It was all about weighing the options. If he just left he'd definitely be safe, but those under siege in the city wouldn't be. If he went looking for the magic user he might be able to find him, but that wasn't guaranteed. The guy could certainly be committing more crimes, but by him leading Sky around the city in search it left the huntsman just more likely to alert the guards and get blamed for it himself. He'd be letting the 'villain' carve out his path, instead of making decisions for his own destiny. If he stayed here he could at least help the soldier out before he left, meaning he did something he could to help. So long as others were inside like they were supposed to they wouldn't be in trouble, right? Really, the best course of action was to do what he could and build up to figuring things out later. This guy who was trying to help him was in trouble, and it'd be irresponsible to leave him like that.

Holding his sword out, the blade partially disconnected from the hilt to reveal a large cannon that was inside of it. Stabbing the blade into the roof as a support, he rested the cannon itself upon the arch of the house while keeping himself down to try and avoid being seen by the guards in the street before him. If he aimed for their torsos they were less likely to die from the attacks, but the explosive force should still hopefully render them unconscious. They were just doing their jobs to protect the city, it wasn't fair for them to lose their lives over a misunderstanding. Before he could fire though, the Alpha with them started screaming and yanking at its chains towards the direction the magic user had vanished. Did he use magic again? Hopefully they'd use that to know that the soldier was innocent, and leave him behind without any trouble. This was their one chance Sky was going to give them, if they left they'd be safe. If not... Well, he was going to do what he needed to do.

Muffled tapping came from leather bound fingers tapping against the Sun Stone within the satchel that hung from the mage's shoulder, the brown-haired youth in deep thought all of a sudden. It would have been smartest to have fled the scene immediately, but there was something calling him back from doing so. It wasn't exactly a voice in his head or something he could feel within the ebb and flow of the arcane. It was more a gut feeling that was stopping him from leaving. Sharp green eyes glanced down to the scene that lay at his feet and as subtly turned to view one of the injured guards laying a few feet away, his eyes burning through the mage with such fury. He had to feel pity for this man, for he was only doing hos job and for all the Soldier knew, he was doing the right thing to uphold peace and security within Dalvastre. He'd have done a stellar job too if it were any other ordinary shift for him. But there were so many people who disagreed with the way that magic users, mages, witches and wizards were being handled. Becoming an Ablated was not upholding peace, it was simply adding fuel to the fire. If the mages were left alone to do their own thing in peace, there would be no need for all this. No need for a Royal Decree and no need for the Ablated. Well, that wasn't strictly true. There were a good number of mages who had gone insane from power or from listening too intently to the arcane song that weaved and coursed over everything. A few bad apples spoil the bunch, it seemed.

The green-eyed mage was snapped from his thoughts at the sound of a high-pitched whistle coming from right beside him. The young man threw his head down to witness one of the injured Soldier's had managed to pull a whistle from his attire and was blowing on it to call for help. There'd be another patrol heading this way to investigate within minutes, there could already be one just around the next corner due to a spell having been cast recently.
This has all gone wrong... I need to retreat...
The mage turned his back on the scene he created and was about to dash off into the night when that gut feeling returned, making him pause in place again. This time thought he turned his head to look over his right shoulder, his vision peering back in the general direction of the Stiltwalker's Fall. There was something going on over there, a brawl perhaps from the sounds of things but it was far too faint to be sure.
There's this feeling again... I wonder what it means? Has it something to do with those two I met in the tavern? Why those two? What could it mean?
Making sure his satchel was closed and secure, the mage headed for the side of the street and begun climbing up a pile of stocked boxes to reach the roof of the shop they belonged too. Wrapping his cloak about himself and pulling his hood down over part of his face, the mage kept himself low to try and become as invisible as possible within the darkness of the night. He slowly crept up to the spine of the roof and glanced down into the street opposite, seeing a patrol of Soldier's and Ablated surrounding the Shaven Headed Man from the tavern. Why were they stopping him? Didn't this guy have special permission to be in the city? The guards outside let him through without much investigating. Oh, perhaps they were a detachment sent to acquire him? Why did they look so threatening towards him then?

A flash of blonde from the roof opposite caught the mage's attention and he quickly glued himself against a cold, stone chimney stack to try avoid being detected. That was the blonde from the tavern and his sword... didn't look much like a sword anymore. What was he planning on doing? Back down in the street, the Alpha seemed to be very interested in something in the mage's general direction. Had it detected him?! He kept quiet for the time being and remained pressed against the chimney stack with only part of his head poking out to watch the scene in the street below. It was impossible to hide from an Alpha, but perhaps it was still detecting the spell he had cast earlier? The fire still roared from the building down the end of the street in with Taru stood, but the arcane essence from that spell would surely have vanished by now. Or could it somehow feel the presence that the Sun Stone was emitting? Within an instant, someone had called an order to kill the Shaven Headed Man in the street below and within the next instant, two of the Emperor's men were defeated, a couple flashes of steel from the Shaven Headed Man meeting their targets with such speed and accuracy that some of the stories told about him. Incredible... But it was still six on one and in the heat of the moment, one of the crossbowmen had brought their weapon up and had taken aim at the Shaven Headed Man. The 'twang' of the bolt firing from the crossbow was quickly drowned out by the ever increasing sound of flames getting closer and closer. There was metallic 'ping' and the roar of flames as a fireball from the mage thwacked the bolt away from Taru the Unkillable, casting embers a few feet across the street that died out almost immediately. The wooden and metal clatter of the bolt was heard tumbling against the cobblestone floor closer to the tavern. The mage however ducked back behind the chimney stack and prayed he'd not been noticed. He has already gotten himself into enough trouble for one evening...

Unfortunately it didn't take long for the situation to devolve, and it quickly became evident to the huntsman that just knocking out the guard wasn't going to be an option. Taru quickly killed two of the eight men with relative ease, but the numbers game quickly caught up to him. As soon as he saw the man aim the crossbow Sky fired, knowing it'd be too late to stop the shot but at least he could intercept it before it hit the bald man. As his shot raced across the sky something appeared out of the corner of his eye... A ball of flame? It didn't seem like something made from dust, it was true flames... Was this magic? If it was, that could mean only one thing... The mage was here, but he was protecting the soldier? But... Why, he'd already killed a family right, why was he acting both for good and evil? Was the soldier darker than he'd anticipated, or was this part of something bigger? He didn't know, but he'd get his answers soon enough. Just needed to end this fight, then capture the mage.

The ball of flame, the shot, and the arrow met in a terrifying explosion which a shock wave that could knock the men back, and Sky took advantage of the confusion by shooting at the captain of the group. That way with the leader out of the way it would cause confusion among the guards, and if anyone saw either the mage's magic or his shot's direction it'd divert their attention for the soldier to either do more damage or make his way out of the situation. Either way at least the situation was in their favor, and so long as he could continue his cover fire the soldier would be able to get out of this and he could get a better understanding of what exactly the hell was going on. As long as he kept the mage in the corner of his eye, and kept his attention on the carnage before him this wouldn't take very long... Especially with how skilled of a swordsman the soldier was. Helped Sky realize just how much work he needed to do with his own swordsmanship, he was only just a second year at the academy after all and this was just... Wow. Made him feel a little self conscious too.

The realization also helped him notice that he'd let his hood move back some, revealing a little of his hair and this ruining the disguise in the darkness. Damn, why was he so careless? He pulled the hood back further over his face to help hide himself better, then placed both hands back onto the gun. He needed to focus, and wait... That's all there was too it. Hopefully this move helped keep him out of sight of the archers, but if not... Well, he did have a firepower advantage and the top of the roof to hide behind if he was shot at. Not to mention his aura for indirect hits, so he still felt safe and confident. Too much so perhaps, but that wasn't going to change until mistakes were made.