POOHEAD189

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

I wish I could appreciate the tilean architecture, but slinking through the streets and trying to remain away from the eyes of battling Condottieri was enough to keep my mind occupied. That and my constant questioning of my sanity. I had everything I ever wanted awaiting me back in Altdorf, and yet I was here, turning back around every other street as men actively sought or butchered one another. More than once did I think I would have to defend myself in fear of my life, but always I managed to step back into the shadows or keep myself just beyond a guardsman's reach. Luckily, I was a man of many talents, and one of my best talents was running away.

After I made my way out of a particularly blood soaked alley, I found myself on the main thoroughfaire, the sun bright in my eyes. I blinked and turned east, where the light wasn't so blinding, and made my way there, passing over well maintained bushes and flowers in the center of the street. I climbed over a small white wall, believing I was heading for a less popular way back to the palace.

A familiar horse whinnied as my feet hit the ground, apparently startling the beast. It stood tethered under an elaborate walkway, next to an old style villa a small ways up the hill. It was brettonian gelding, and I recalled seeing the same horse tethered up just the day before and recognized it as Guy Du Ponce's steed. That was very curious, I found. Perhaps the brettonian had decided to hide out here as the violence died down. I felt he might be a useful ally in trying to locate Camilla, so I climbed up the small tiled street on the hill. And yet as I approached, I felt the same elusive feeling as I had just this morning.

Something did not feel right, I decided.

Ah, yes. Follow your instincts. That served you well just an hour ago.

Shut up, you love tilea. And tilean women, particularly.

I went back and forth in that manner for another minute, but regardless I made my way up the street. However, I decided not to knock on the front door. Perhaps a back entrance would be more appropriate, just in case my instincts weren't wrong. I was quite good at games of chance, after all. Even when I wasn't cheating...

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

The Imperials made it out of the city once the sun had arched across the sky, the heat pressing down on them and identifying the time as mid-afternoon. A few streaks of clouds were scattered amongst the great blue expanse, but otherwise it was clear like the sea. I had yet to eat all day and he felt it in his stomach. Captain Muller and his men had to slay a few stragglers attempting to harass them, but the gates had been unmanned and the entirety of the troupe had all but stumbled out of the front gates, the road before them empty save for a few men with donkeys escaping the city with haste, almost on the horizon now.

"Heinrich! Headcount!" The Captain bellowed with a roar, and I felt they now looked quite the sight. Standing just at the spot they had occupied yesterday before they had traipsed into the city with high hopes and endless possibilities. Now they were run out like whipped dogs. Even knowing the intricacies of the context, it was somewhat embarrassing.

"Thirty four men sir, not including you, the chamberlain, and the priest." Corporal Heinrich called, saluting. Good man, Heinrich. Hell of a card player. But it was then I realized.

"My, that was harrowing. I suppose we should try again next season?" Chamberlain Shultz asked, huffing. He coughed from the dust in the air.

"We'll send an army next time. This insult cannot stand," The Captain growled, glaring at the city as if the very stone itself had insulted his mother. "We haven't even our supplies or gift of gold. We'll have to forage and gather what we can with what little we have. Maybe in a day or two we can find some manner of shelter."

"Where's Camilla?" I asked, spinning round. I wasn't a large man, but I was taller than the average imperial and couldn't see her anywhere in the small gathering of troops. "Did anyone see her get shot or taken?"

"No sir, none..." Heinrich said, unsure of what could have happened.

"She was nothing but a tilean rat," Muller said, glancing at the gate and turning back to the road. "This city is a sewer. She just slunk back in. You needn't worry about it. We must tend our own."

Anger rose in me like a bubbling volcano. The bastard had always been rude to me, but never had it gotten to him like this. Perhaps because those other than himself that he belittled were his men he needed to keep discipline over, but I was effected this time quite profusely. I would not let that go unanswered. "She was a good woman, who helped rescue the chamberlain and saved my life. I'll hear no disrespect, Muller."

I did not even bother to call him captain. His eyes blazed at me for the insult, but the chamberlain stepped between us.

"My lads, please. We are safe now, yes? Let us go back and make our reports." He said, and then turned to me with a smile. "You saved my life, herr priest. Once I am back I will give a recommendation that you make bishop, and my support for whatever your endeavor is, my good man!"

That brought a dazzling change in my thoughts for a moment. The chamberlain granting me his patronage? No one could have asked for a higher backing save from the Emperor himself! This was too monumental for me to really appreciate at the time, but I was aware of the vastness of the potential. I could even be granted leave to join the Colleges of Magic, or study in the highest academies of sciences in Altdorf, or Medicine in far off Araby! Gold, power, and position were in my future if I merely stayed the course.

"Aye," Captain Muller had to agree, albeit begrudgingly. "You saved the chamberlain and kept your word. You have my respect, priest. I never thought I would say this, but thank you. Let the woman go and let's start our journey back, eh? After the reports are written, we can put this whole thing behind us."

They all turned to leave. The men began to grab what packs they had set down, grumbling but moving all the same. I felt them moving forward like a tide being pulled back into the ocean, running all at once around me. But like a rock, I only felt the sand slipping away.

I did not move. I could not move, I found. Even when I willed my foot to lift up, it did not step forward. That was curious. Why not?

I glanced back at the open maw of the gate, and I saw Camilla's face before my eyes. The glimpse of her from the wall just behind me, the tripping in the street, the dancing and dinner and kissing by the moonlight. The night of fervent love-making and this day of survival and violence contrasted by her quick wit and beauty. And now she had gone back into the city where most of the officials wanted her dead or worse. But did I really care? More than a potential future? More than a cozy life back in the north? Only a fool would. I could get a dozen women if I wanted to, and I had only known her a day! I could not care this bloody much, even at the cost of her life! Right!?

Fuck, perhaps I did.

When next they turned around, I was already long gone, having run yet again into the belly of Remas to find Camilla. Damn her, but I could not leave her to get caught.

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

Neil opened his mouth, and then closed it again. His eyes squinted, and then he blinked as he came to terms with what was occurring. "So... hold on, just because the government is offering my bounty doesn't mean I owe you the bounty! You aint turned me in yet. Plus I took care of those bounty hunters." He poked his chest with his thumb, puffing it out. "I'm tryna be fair here! But yeah, I did cause a fire. It was that or be taken to their ship."

He did legitimately feel a bit bad about that, though she was making it difficult not to at least stun her and negotiate with her in the cell. The kitchen damage was a sound debt, however. "But that's fair, I owe you that, and I can work that off in... uh..."

Neil squatted, resting the modified rifle on his knees and counting with his fingers, mumbling to himself as he started calculating how long it would take to pay back that amount with a job like the one he had before he was skyrocketed off Hyperion 3. Maybe he could be a bounty hunter too? Or he could steal the money. He heard there was a big casino in Proxima Centauri. Did Charlie still work there? Man, he had not seen him in forever. He wondered if he could rig some dice games for him?

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

"Subroutines intact, power still up, motherboard still impressive as hell...Ok..." Neil murmured, sliding out of the paneling and reapplying the flat back just under the monitor. The mainframe of the ship was located in the cockpit, but Neil could pull off a few wonders from the lesser directive tables on the ship. He placed his back against the wall and sat there, realizing he now had to think...

What to do next?

The grav had come back on and the two ships had detatched. That much he could gather from the sound and the...well, the gravity. But now that he was undetectable and he had three guns to choose from, he needed to figure out on what his plan was. Yeah, he could get the drop on Jocasta, put a gun on her. But was that the best thing to do? Even he managed to shove her in the cell and took over the ship, it would take a lot of doing to make Cygi loyal to him, and if he was completely honest, he didn't want to fuck over Jocasta or her little bot. He groaned.

He really needed to let go of this attraction he had, but he had to admit her first impressions are just amazing.

His thought process was interrupted by the jump engine. He knew that whirring anywhere. Judging by the speed of its acceleration, Neil could tell it was a good engine. This little bird was a nimble little starship. If Jocasta hadn't been blindsided he doubted those amateurs could have caught up.

As the ship slipped into the jump, Neil decided to just do what he did best.

Improvise.

---

"Light damage to the ship. Mostly aesthetics, but the hull could regain some integrity!" Cygi said, her outfit now essentially a Mary-Poppins costume, her left leg out behind her and her head forward like the human version of a pointer hound, umbrella just above her. The meter on the jumpspace display giving small possible variations to their destination. It was exceedingly difficult to change a route once jumped, but small dimensional abnormalities could be manipulated in rare circumstances. "Closest system is the Alpha Centauri!"

"Ugh, I need a bath...and a drink...and a job. Mom was right." Jocasta sighed, leaning back in her chair and blowing away a fringe of her hair.

"Yeah, I've been there." Neil said. Cygi turned and her eyes quite literally popped out of her head in a cartoonish fashion while Jocasta blinked, looking at Neil like a deer caught in the headlights. He stood in the doorway to the cockpit, Vapodon blaster rifle aimed at her. Easy to load, clean, and operate, it had bipod attachment folded and its curved magazine jutted out from the top like a horn.

"Ok, I know this is awkward." He said. Damn, now he was nervous. "But I really like living, and I don't like that cage at all. And I know I can't really talk my way out of that bounty, but I also seriously don't want to shoot you either. So can we negotiate on something or...?"

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

Neil held his hands up to show he had no weapon as the cell opened. The big merc up front aimed his gun at Neil, but didn't fire. He seemed to think the journey to their ship was so close, stunning Neil wouldn't be needed. He grabbed Neil's shoulder and yanked the scoundrel out of the cell.

"Alright, alright!" Neil said, but only halfheartedly. He wasn't too disturbed by switching custody from one bounty hunter to another. Granted, Jocasta was a lot easier on the eyes, and nicer, but hey it happens. The mutant regarded him with open contempt, but Neil just gave a little wave before he was pushed again. All guns now trained on him, he stepped forward.

"So, you guys been a team long?" He said as he followed the slim one, the other two just behind. "Or was it me that brought that happy family together?"

"Shut it, you little shit," one of the big ones behind him spat.

It was at that moment the gravity shut off. Neil felt a small tug at his center, and then his whole body was weightless. He blinked as he began to float, now fully a meter off the ground. The bounty hunters grunted in surprise and started floating too, cursing and confused.

"Ok, that wasn't me," Neil said, having kept completely still, though his eyes snapped left and right.

"If this was Borlaine's doin', I'll wring his neck," the mutant growled, flapping his hands to try and get somewhere he could push off for momentum. Neil decided now was the perfect time to try his luck. He wasn't an expert at no-grav combat scenarios, but he had fought plenty of times in his mech in upper orbit and it was not dissimilar in principal. He suddenly tucked his legs under him and using his arms as weights, spun in mid air to get horizontal, his chest parallel to the floor. His legs snapped back, crunching into the face of the bigger human, breaking his nose. Blood slowly floated in the air as his laspistol went off, the projectile burning a mark in the wall and ricocheting into another room before dissipating. Neil's body shot forward, and he grabbed the skinny hunter's neck in a chokehold. His bicept against the man's neck, he grabbed for Neil's arm, the hunter's firearm now floating without a wielder.

Neil thought he had the situation well in hand, but these guys weren't bounty hunters for nothing. The slim one tucked and rolled almost as Neil had, sending the scoundrel end over end, bumping his head into the wall. Neil saw the other two hunters, using one another to push their bodies in opposite directions so they could grab sections of wall to better pull themselves toward Neil. Before he knew it, the skinny hunter had reversed positions with him, grappling Neil now as the other two big ones flew in to help. Neil tugged at the arm around his arm and neck, but it was no use. On instinct he kicked out, his foot shoving the Vapodon blaster rifle down the hall as he reached behind him, grabbing for the hunter's belt. His fingers found what they were looking for just before his vision started to fade and the man's rancid breath the last thing he might remember. Quickly, he pulled the man's combat knife out, redirected the blade, and stabbed into the hunter's arm.

His screech echoed down the hall and he hastily let Neil go, crying out in pain as even more blood meandered through the air. Neil kicked off the wall and shot into the next room, apparently finding himself in the kitchen. He passed by a decal plastered above the sink with the script "Certified Baddie" on it. Just under it and above the sink was a space in the wall that one could use to speak or watch whoever was eating in the mess hall. Neil passed by the fridge and food compartments before he hit the electrowave cooker, pulling himself down by the handle as he started to rifle through the drawers. Can openers, utensils, and spices flew this way and that. Neil couldn't find anything he could work with, but then his devious mind started working and he glanced at the oven.

"Oi, where'd he go!?"

"Down there you shit!"

The three rounded the corner to see Neil floating there, his ass out and his front half buried in the electrowave oven. Just as they realized he wasn't knocked out or stuck, Neil pulled himself out and shut the door of the oven, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. He glanced to his left and saw the bounty hunters aiming their weapons at him.

"Shit!" He cursed, having expected to give a quip or maybe explain what was about to happen, but instead he shoved himself off the wall and pressed his limbs tightly together so he slipped just out of the kitchen under the wall-space as their lasblasts hit the oven.

The ensuing explosion from the wires Neil had cut and readied to ignite when at a certain temperature were instead 'detonated' in a sense, immediately. Neil spun to look, feeling the heat from the flames, the light mesmerizing. One did not get to appreciate fire in no-grav scenarious often. It was like water, running over everything it touched. It didn't keep long on the laminate tops and appliances, but it caressed the men in a deceptively enchanting fashion. They couldn't appreciate it as much as Neil, though.

They just started screaming.

Bodacious Bounties: Bounty Hunter AU

Neil gave a look that seemed both offended and distraught, before he called after her. "Hey! I don't have any friends!"

That was the last time he saw her. At least, before whirring lights and a sense of vertigo, followed by a sudden shuddering of the ship that nearly knocked him off his feet. Neil caught himself, looking around for Jocasta to arrive at any second. But she never did. A great rending of steel could be heard, no, felt, by Neil. It was followed by a grinding sound that Neil could only describe as a can opener mixed with an industrial welder. He downed the last bit of beer and tossed the can, setting his butt down on the only chair in the cage, resting his arms on his knees and waiting.

Minutes passed as lights flickered and ubiquitous bumping and further grinding could be heard. Briefly Neil wondered if Jocasta was ok, but he pushed the thought aside. He didn't owe her anything. Even with everything she did, if he got out of this without being executed he would have to find another home again, far away. Maybe in the cerulean cluster. He had always wanted to go there, actually. Gerumi IV was supposed to have amazing beaches.

As he thought of it, footsteps echoed from the corridor to the right. Neil couldn't see past the wall, but in a few moments three hulking figures strode into view, their eyes scanning the room until they inevitably fell on Neil. The scoundrel grinned and looked up.

"Hey there fellas." He said. Now this was a situation he was comfortable in. Living on the edge, with people he knew hated him. Jocasta had been cool, but then he almost felt like she pitied him, after he was caught. It had almost been awkward, though granted she probably didn't enjoy throwing him to the wolves. Maybe at another point they would have their third, first start.

If she wasn't dead.

For the men in front of him, one was undoubtedly a mutant, his jaw oversized with small tusks jutting up over his top lip, wearing a type of flak armor. One eye was larger than the other, and he had a horn atop his head. The other two were mere humans in varied scraps of armor, though they were scarred and about as large as the mutant. One was slimmer than the other, carrying a Vapodon blaster rifle, one of the new models with the low-yield plasma cartridges. The bigger one placed a rectangular scanning device before Neil, a red light running over Neil's form as the bounty hunter grumbled.

"Neil Edwards. War Criminal. Treason. A dozen minor infractions. 5.4 million credits. Confirmed." The device barked.

"That's him," the hunter remarked, redundantly. His eyes met Neil's and he scowled, taking out a laspistol and stepping back, aiming at the locking mechanism. "Now don't do anything stupid, scum. You're coming with us."

"Well let's be fair." Neil said mockingly. "If I didn't do anything stupid, I wouldn't be here in the first place and you wouldn't have a meal ticket."

Las-shots and cries were head down the narrow build of the Dragonfly. Neil wondered what was happening. At least it seemed like Jocasta was still alive.

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

I watched her, equally as distracted by her strange performance as the tileans. Luckily I was able to snap out of it when I took the meaning of her words, and Maximo poked his head out, perplexed.

"What does she do?" He whispered in his native tongue.

"Giving us an opening," I said, gripping the haft of my staff and rising to my full height.

"Hortiman? Why I daresay that's me," The Chamberlain whispered.

When Camilla screamed and pummeled the footman, I yelled in tilean for the Luccini ambassador to move, yanking at good, portly Shultz as I began to run. The three of us sprinted out of cover, and to my supreme relief neither of them dallied or did anything stupid. They merely ran, the Imperial ambassador following the tilean one dutifully. A crouched mercenary turned to look at us, his crossbow still steadied at Camilla. I gripped my staff and swung it in a backhanded arc, clapping against the crossbow to redirect it, my knee crunching into his face not a moment later.

The imperials hesitated only the briefest moment, and then fired into the tileans with a fire and fury that would make Karl Franz's heart swell with pride. Blackpowder weaponry discharged and crossbows loosed while halberdiers and swordsmen charged forward at the confused tilean troop. The hall was soon embroiled in a fierce melee, a sudden shift to the battle of attrition from a scant minute prior. I saw Guy Du Ponce with his crucifix sword running a tilean through under the breastplate, crying out for the lady.

Camilla danced through the ranks, bounding like a deer and even somersaulting in mid-air over a pair of men locked in mortal combat. I always was an agile one, keeping myself fit and lean for escaping trouble if not for aesthetics in my more arrogant moments, but she made me feel quite inadequate. I only saw her for a brief glimpse, however, as a spearman stepped in front of Maximo and Shultz's way, black beard roiling in a scowl as he regarded them. I sprinted at them, jumping in front of the first thrust, my haft battering the spearpoint away.

"Go!" I cried as the spear point reared back like a serpent, snapping forward again. I was nearly split open, but managed to sidestep it, leaving the man open for a counter-blow. Unbeknownst to most, my staff, though long, was very heavy at the top end. All Sigmarites had to carry some form of hammer, and the eight pointed circle ensconcing the heavy bronze skull served the purpose nicely. It struck the top of the man's kettle helm like a falling star, bludgeoning him so hard it dented the helm and he hit the ground soundlessly. I leaped over his form and hurried after the others, and once we passed through our line of soldiers I thanked Sigmar just to be pragmatic in keeping with my luck.

"Chamberlain!" Captain Muller called, running back from the hall, his sword bloodied with a shallow wound in his side. "You're alive!"

"Why yes, and it's been a very trying morning." He said, the fat man drenched in sweat. He wiped his bearded face and smiled. "I have to give credit to our dear priest and his lovely lady friend."

"We can thank everyone later. First let's get out of this city. The wine isn't that good." Muller said, and before the hour was out, the Imperial delegation and guard had made a fighting retreat out of the palace and marched in battle formation until the gate was in sight.

Maverick Malediction

A shrill cry of pain and terror echoed through the dim halls of the Prison of a Thousand Torments. Once a military compound, the name derived from the ancient Sultan Beauteous when he threw his half-brother Selan into its depths to die. The greatest torturers and gaolers in all the realm were invited here to practice their skills on the destitute and downtrodden criminals. Both the oppressed and the truly terrible were sent here to live out their days. Neil knew none of this, but there was something unsettling for a thief like him in this dark place. He knew he could end up here very easily for many of his ideas of fun, and it was only the promise of treasures and Calliope walking in that had him stepping past the arch, following the gate-guard they had coerced with a promise of payment as he led them down into its depths.

Most humble dwellings in Rhagba Shahir were located on the outskirts of the great city, the opulence and wealth closer to its core. The lesser dwellings of lesser men were made of mudbrick or clay, their surfaces usually plastered or covered in painted clay to give it some manner of aesthetic. Doors were often missing, replaced with heavy curtains so there was always air flowing freely, and that a guest may clap twice in order to gain attention for entry. Bricked buildings were considered tacky and uncouth, even for the poor. The prison stood out amongst the peasant quarter, with walls of mortar and stone and a heavy door at its front, not to mention the crimson towers and the archers ready to loose on any fool who wandered too close without clear intent.

The two foreigners and the guard passed through the first floor quietly, keeping themselves away from the bars of the cages. Every cell had a man begging for release or crying out to Hayashim, still holding on to hope for freedom from this hell. They were the new residents, unused to complete despair. They passed down carved steps of stone to the next level down, this level below the sands of the surface, where the prisoners wept or carved the walls with stones to mark the days as they trudged inevitably forward. Sconces and torches were sparse here, but still present.

The guard grabbed a torch and led them down to the third level, the torch flickering feebly in the oppressive dark. Only once did they pass another lit torch in the labyrinthine level, turning this way and that. Some men lay dead in their cells, others hugged their knees and looked vacantly into the hall, unaware of the light or the strangers walking before their very eyes. Still, some seemed damaged, but not yet broken. With sunken eyes and hopelessness cloaked in apathy. It was in a long hall of caged men, where they found one in such a state. An older man, head bald and finger nails unusually long, curled up in the back corner of his cell. Neil thought he was dead at first, until the guard kicked him through the bars and his head raised lazily, like a turtle slowly peeking out of its shell.

"Sukander Besar?" Calliope asked, hands on her hips.

The man said nothing, but there was recognition in his eyes that revealed a familiarity.

"He is who I said he was," the guard said, his hawkish nose drawing a sharp shadow over his mouth. "Now pay me, bitch! And complete your business."

"Very well," Calliope said flippantly, gesturing with her hand lazily as her eyes bored into the elderly prisoner. "Neil, pay this man his due."

The guard's eyes bulged, his expectant look turning into horror when Neil's hand pressed against his mouth and the dagger pierced the side of his throat, blood gushing out of the wound onto the dusty stone floor. "Sorry, boss's orders." Neil said, clearly not happy about the murder, but knowing if they let him go without payment, they too would likely be thrown in here. To bring some levity to the situation, he slunk over to Calliope, one arm in his sleeve with a hand hanging out to make it appear as if he was malformed. "The deed is done, dark master." He rasped.

The Enemy Beyond: Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor RP

Emperor's light.

It was every inquisitor's knowledge that chaos was utterly enthralling if one was to delve too deep into its clutches, but this was another level of coercion entirely. To compel anyone to serve after merely reading from a scroll, it must have been enchanted powerfully. But to what end? There had to be a concrete goal to the heretics, utilizing this compulsion for some aim beyond just spreading corruption. I shook my head, dabbing the blood from Emmaline's lip with a cloth. Her blue eyes were wide, but by the Emperor's Mercy I saw the same woman I loved still in there.

"Hadrian, they can enslave millions of people." She repeated, clearly stating it again so she could also come to terms with the visions that had bombarded her mind. Her slim fingers clutched my jacket.

"Potentially, but even chaos has limits." I said, considering. I looked to the left as I pondered, mind whirring like the cogs in a mechanicus cogitator. "If they could simply read the words and force someone into servitude, they would have done that to you, or worse, they would have tried to broadcast the message across the lower hive. They also cannot print it on any piece of parchment, or it would easily be mass produced. No, there are only a specific number of these scrolls with the spells of compulsion writ upon them."

"So one needs to read it for themselves in order to be influenced," Emmaline remarked, holding her head as she shook off the aftershock of the assault on her mind.

"Which means they cannot enslave the entirety of a hive without special circumstances or equipment." I said.

"Like a holovid?" Emmaline asked, hopeful she was correct but equally yearning to be wrong. "Where would they have access...?"

"We're going to the upper hive." I said.

Death's Edge: A Warhammer Story

There was something in the council room that nagged at my attention. Something...elusive, I couldn't quite pinpoint. Perhaps it was my subconscious or maybe the lord Sigmar was trying to reach me, but whatever it was it stayed just out of arms reach. Oh well, I was not getting paid for this. As long as we survived today, got something to eat, and then had some fun with Camilla I would be happy. This was all far above my station or desire. And I usually followed my desires, at the end of the day.

"As you say," Maximo said in tilean.

"Herr Cran'Darack, I am most tired. Can we go back to our rooms?" The Chamberlain asked me. He knew roughly what was occurring, but he seemed to be too tired to really give it enough thought to add more than his complaint. I could not blame him.

"I concur, let's make our way over to our quarters, shall we? And then find some deadbolts for the doors while we're at it. I don't fancy waking up tomorrow in the manner I had today." I said, and despite my injury and lack of willingness to throw myself into further danger, I found I lead the pack as we exited the room, slipping down the side corridors I had used just yesterday to reach my quarters.

The halls were eerily quiet, blood smearing the walls and the occasional body interrupting what seemed to be a veritably vacated palace. The hallway gave way to a small, open square with four halls around it. A small, enclosed botanical garden to sit and enjoy the fresh air while a fountain babbled with clear water, only now inky and reddened with a body half slumped over the stone pool, the man likely having been forcibly drowned during a rough melee. Even as we passed, two Condottieri traded blows in the garden, steel ringing in a rhythmic clash, shouts and perjoratives streaming from their mustachioed mouths.

Their blades locked, they both stopped for a moment in their combat to the death and looked at us, and we at them.

I cleared my throat. "Pay no attention to us, gentleman. En garde!" I said, and continued on, the others following. As we entered the next gallery, their struggles rose again and the banging of their sideswords continued. Soon, more numerous sounds of combat reached our ears, and we surreptitiously slunk through a lobby of comfortable chairs and a painting of the founding of Remas and crouched by the door.

I peered out slowly, holding my breath as I looked out into the hall. I beheld Marco's men, or what was left of them, in a grueling ranged battle with my own imperial troops who were further down the wide corridor, each man hiding behind pillars and alcoves and large, thick tapestries. Two swordsmen grappled on the floor, but most of the soldiers who held melee weapons were hidden to keep themselves safe from the gunshots and crossbows that ricocheted off the walls. A dead halberdier by the name of Johan lay in the midst of the two forces, his dead eyes staring lifelessly, seemingly right at me. His halberd was blood stained, but a dagger lay in his neck, blood pooling from the wound. I cursed, praying for his soul to find guidance to the afterlife.

"Any ideas?" I whispered to Camilla from across the door frame. "I'm out of spells and we have two dozen of your countrymen between us and safety."