The Seven

That asshole. That two-timing, kill stealing, over-confident, arrogant magnificent bastard. If he wanted to make a game of it, a game it would be, once the mark was dead. I just needed to tell him the change in plans. I smirk under the mask knowing that for the first time in years I was facing someone who would put up a challenge. Shaking my head and sheath my sword. I knew full fell he would have dodged the swing, but he had lost a few steps... I look at the bracer lying in the dirt and shake my head the revelation of seeing him still fresh in my mind as I give chase my leather books pounding against the dirt road my cloak blowing back to reveal my armored vest over my expensive white silk shirt. The players were assembled he just needed to know whose side each was on. He of course know his own loyalty along with that of one other. But the armed woman, he needed to know if she was a threat.

"Do you always run from strangers without knowing what they want?" I called out with a laugh, this is what I do, my element. I am never happier than when I know who must die. I show both hands to be empty, and slowly walk towards where they must be hidden. "I only want a word with the adulterer in private, and you have my word he will not be harmed by me."
 
Rose saw Gwen's rescuer coming and she frowned, then the poor light showed her something she would have noticed before had it been in view. She had not pulled out her necklace for this one, but it looked like it was a good thing she did as she walked up to him.

"Who did this?" she asked, already grabbing his arm.

"I did," was his response, which was exactly what she needed to hear. Rose quickly traced the lines. They were hard to see. So many scars, but it was there, it was real.

Too bad the would be assassin was coming this way.

Leaning in, Rose whispered in D's ear. "Report. Deolen. Berser Head."

The tall woman then turned back to the princess quickly and grabbed her arm. She was firm, but was trying not to hurt the princess in her grip as she dragged the girl to start running again. "Blessed are the Seven. Skilled are the Seven," she muttered as they started running again. Rose hoped they would be encountering the other momentarily now.

The words Rose had whispered to the Seventh of the Seven was not at random. She needed a report from him. Badly. She met his predecessor a few times, but this was the first she met him and the Seventh was always in the shadows. She needed to know what he knew.

The Deolen family once made a grand hotel. It was a gem in the city and the rich, powerful, and influential payed a great deal of money even to this day to stay there. It was not the building she was speaking of. The Deolen had at one time also built a theatre. It had been twenty years and it was still in legal limbo, not open to the public, and not being used by any people living on the street. In fact you couldn't pay most of those people to sleep there.

Berser Head though, that was something no one in Vykendria would call the town of Musken. It was an easy distance from the Elsovaren boarder. One of the major rivers that ran through that kingdom was called Berser, and most of them agreed it started in the foothills where Musken laid, hence the head of the Berser river. It would be a good place to go once out of the city, for Rose was not keeping Gwen in the city for long.

First Gwendolyn's safety, then her thrown.
 
Events transpired too quickly for Arthur, much to his chagrin. He told himself he wasn't too old; he liked to think he could keep up with anyone of any age. These two young men, however, and even Rose herself proved that to be false. He crept up on the one man holding them all at bay with his wrist-launcher, and then Rose interposed herself between the Princess and the man before shoving her off into the streets for a wild flight.

The other man (whom he had assumed was one of Rose's conspirators) had stayed behind just long enough to engage the other. They shared words, clear as day to Arthur, but he wasn't paying attention to them. He gave them just enough to know they were there and, still to this moment, had not noticed him. Sheathing his knife, he crept back into the shadows to slip down a nearby alley.

Once he was clear from their sight, he began to race as fast as his feet would carry him down the adjacent street--the same direction Rose had been fleeing in! He huffed and puffed, his lungs burning with the exertion of his hard sprint. He wasn't able to keep up the pace, and had to slow down to a hasty jog; he could only hope his long legs would allow him to make up for this lack in speed. He knew his heavy frame was no help in this situation.

The street began to gradually curve, connecting to what he could only assume was the street Rose had taken flight down. Arthur's suspicions were proven right when he saw two shadowy forms revealed under the burning street lamp of the corner of the intersecting boulevards. He saw the streaming hair and cloaks, and the low profile of the lead woman trying to lean into her run to get as much speed as she could.

There you are, he thought in a weary tone. Even his mental voice was exhausted from this non-stop run!

To Arthur's great fortune, it was only after passing under that corner light that Rose took the princess down an alley. He followed after them, ignoring the black sheet that the narrow between the two-story hovels presented. There was only two reasons Rose would have come down this way: for rest, and because she knew someone was following them at pace.

Without hesitating, he whispered fiercely into the black: "Blessed are the Seven. Skilled are the Seven." He hoped he was fast enough; Rose was no soft woman, and would lash out as quickly as she could. Perhaps he could prevent a knife in his belly from his hasty pursuit.
 
The would be assassin could have had an accomplish. Rose couldn't be sure. Either way she was going to have to be careful. Yes, there was now the Seventh, but who knew how busy he'd be, and yes there was another she thought was another of them, but she could not be sure.

She could feel the princess stumble more then once on their mad dash and her labored breath. This wasn't good, since someone was coming. Friend or foe, it did not matter. Rose used her extensive knowledge of the city to find a good spot for Gwen to catch her breath. For Rose though it was to have the choice of ground if a fight was to come.

A voice, not only saying words she herself had just muttered not long ago, but that actually sounded a bit familiar. Lowering the gun she had pulled out, ready to fire before anyone got too close to Gwen, she took a step in his direction.

"Arthur?" Rose sounded a bit surprised, and out of breath, but mostly she sounded happy.
 
Arthur nodded, thankful for Rose's instant recognition. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the alley (slower than it used to, he noticed with agitation), he could make out the dull-matte of Rose's pistol. It was camouflaged in the black, but the vague shape was unmistakable. She might have recognized him, but she wasn't lowering the weapon. Not yet, anyways.

"Yes," Arthur muttered, out of breath himself. Now that he was able to take a moment, weariness was finally taking over. He was ready to slump against one of the brick walls that framed them and just... Well, sleep!

"I received news of the Princess just this evening. I raced over to the Old Town as quickly as possible; seems to me you had the same idea. Only place an escape from the dungeons could take you, yes? Seems to me the Guard has gotten stupider. I would have had a detachment down here for this very reason." He shook his head, a grin spreading over his face.

In the past decade, many changes had been made within the Vykendrian Military and Home Defense Force. Much of the 'old guard' had been forced into retirement with barely-adequate pension. That was one of the first acts that the Regent Lady Amethyst had done; bring in the 'new guard'. She had begun an immediate campaign to light the patriotic fire of the Kingdom's youth, offering brilliant rewards to the young men and women that wound answer the call of King and Country. She wanted youth, strength, and exuberance, and most of all, Arthur knew, loyalty to her.

Unfortunately, she paid for that loyalty with ignorance. These young bucks didn't know how to operate.

"You're looking well, Rose." Arthur's smile was bright and contagious; his teeth would be glittering under any sort of light. It was good to be in the company of someone he recognized and whose company he enjoyed. Most of all, it was good to be doing what he was trained to do, born to do.

"And I assume this is the Princess."
 
It was Arthur! If she was going to have anyone guarding her back right now, it would be one of her father's companions. "You look exactly the same, she said returning the complement, while also placing her gun away.

"Yes, this is Gwendolyn." Rose then turn to look at the princess. She was likely confused, and who could blame her. "We'll get this all explained once we're off the street. For now know that Arthur is as loyal to you as I am."

Rose then smiled back at Arthur. "Welcome back," then she took Gwen's hand again and got them going in the direction to where they'd be safe, for a small while. Off to the Deolen Theatre.
 
D smirked. And then there was another, he thought. He pictured the Berger Head and then instantly discarded the image in his head. He'd remember it later ... Right now, he wanted to deal with the masked man. The woman of the Seven and Gwen disappeared. "This might prove interesting after all," he said out loud, facing the man. He cracked his knuckles.

"But I'll give you a sporting chance. There's no reason to rush our little dance and ruin things." The man appeared like he was slightly above average in fighting skill but D never assumed things. Overestimating and underestimating led to an early death. But it'd been so long since he'd enjoyed a good fight.
 
Dresner lowered his hands and unhitched his cloak letting it fall to the ground. Now only with the mask hiding his identity, shining pistol and sword of opposite hips he remained where he stood eyes on 'D'

"I have a message for you." he said his tome that of business. "A very reliable source told me you little escapade has ruffled some feathers and strained a few nerves. Your little princess for a very very large price on her dainty head and the queen has personally asked her two best assassins to take care of her, before the coronation." he took a breath eyes watching D's every move. "So it would be best to act quickly."
 
There was a soft chuckle. "Awh. Well, if it's one thing I enjoy doing, it's ruffling feathers and straining nerves. Why stop what you enjoy doing, right?" A gun. A sword. This should prove interesting as was the news the man had just given him. Before the coronation, huh? That was the Queen's angle. She was sloppy. But he didn't intend on letting her stay in power for very long. "I guess I should just go ahead and get rid of you first."

D decided it was too soon to use his gun. He ran forward, the whip's handle in hand but didn't activate it yet, ready to dodge whatever came his way. Then he dealt out a series of punches and kicks as soon as he was in range.
 
Dresner tilted his head back and laughed. "You never change. So quick to shoot the messenger." his eyes darted to the whip. "Now has your taste in weapons. Still living up to your name I see." He put his hand on the hilt of his sword declaring his choice to go toe to toe with the man who would challenge him as he skipped backwards under D's onslaught blade running free of it's sheath before the pommel and bucket guard, not the blade struck out at D's head. The duel was not yet lethal and Dresner hoped to keep it that way for as long as possible. "Whats wrong Khan? They feed you lead in prison?"
 
D laughed. "The name's D or Drystan, old-timer. You best learn it quick." He activated the whip handle and flicked it behind him. He jumped backwards, as the whip wrapped around a trash can. Then he was running forward but this time, he slid past Dresner. He stopped a few feet, got into a crouched position and jerked! The trash can flew forwards! D turned off the whip, then jumped into the air!
 
There was a tearing sound as metal parted and the trashcan stopped short, skewered on the monomolecular point right up to the guard. "Ironic humor does not suit you D" he stressed the name in a way he knew would get to his opponent. "Nor does your company, what exactly happened to you Khan? Forget your friends already?" he kicked the trashcan pushing it off the end of his sword. "Or maybe you forgot your blood. Either way you should still know you can't beat me with your devian-t fetish whip." He laughed again and jumped forwards over the trash can and swung the flat of his sword at D with all his strength.
 
"I happen to like the whip, old timer." He landed neatly, then rolled out of the way and smirked. "Anyways, the only blood I have to worry about is mine. And like I said before, the name is D or Drystan. It isn't Khan." He charged again, then dropped to the ground at the last minute and lashed out, attempting to knock the man's feet out from under him. He honestly had no clue what the hell the man was referring to. "Blood" usually meant relatives but D was an orphan and the man who had been like a father to him was dead.
 
"You always did like them, KHAN." Dresner sidestepped lightly away from the attack as light on his feel as he always was "And I know your name, seems better than you do yourself." he put his hand over the mouth of the mask "You really have forgotten haven't you. Even your own family, your life." he laughed again, but it wasn't the lighthearted laugh from before as his movement seemed to lose their fluid nature for a second. "Well Drystan... this may turn out to be out most interesting dance yet. We have so much to catch up on you and I. I just wish you'd like what you have to hear." more laughter as he allowed D the time to get back onto his feet so as not to strike an opponent while to has down as he flexed his shoulders, it was good to be sparing again. "Just tell me, where have you seen my mask before?"
 
D got to his feet. The man hadn't attacked him as he could have. The opening had been there. There was a subtle shift in the air. The man's laughter was different now and his words forced D to wonder what kind of mind games he was trying to play. The mask ... But he was going to play it cool. He smirked. "What makes you think I've seen your mask before?" He tossed the whip handle lightly in his hand. "Looks like any other mask I've seen in some costume shop."
 
"You know better than that." Dresner said, his voice mocking as the two circled eachother. "Similar, surely, but this one it one of a matching pair, unique for but one other only the colours are on opposite sides on it's twin. Beginning to sound familiar?" he put his hand in front of his face and drought it down and when he did the grin was gone, in its place was a frown. "Now shall we continue the dance or has your reunion with the dirt jogged your memories?" With a laugh he jumped pushing himself off the wall sailing towards D blade before him ready to strike, and for the first time the blow was aimed to kill.
 
"When the smile turns into a frown, he'll turn your world upside down ..." the old woman cackled as she pushed the boxes over the table to them. A pair of hands opened the box, inspected the craftsmanship and one passed over the mask's mouth to find if the frown did turn into a smile and back again. The mask was put on. It was snug. The old woman grinned proudly, showing no front teeth. He turned to the man already wearing the other mask. He dropped her payment onto the table. He moved around, pulled a knife out, then he was stabbing her in the back, once, twice, three or four times. He wore gloves and dropped the bloody street knife on the floor. The other man gathered up the payment, stole the money she'd kept under the table as he placed the mask away. He smirked.

"The authorities will think this was just a sloppy robbery," the other man said.

"And no one else knows about the masks," he replied.

D shook his head. That ... that couldn't be a memory! He rolled out of the way and smirked. He refused to get thrown off his game! "Let's keep going. Unless you're getting out of breath!" The whip was activated and came flying at him to grab that sword handle!
 
With one swift movement Dresner's sword was wrenched from his hand by the whip, but it didn't slow him down. Without breaking step he spun, not giving D a chance to recover this time he let first fly knocking D back. A kick knocked the whip handle from his hand before Dresner grabbed D by the front the threw him behind a dumpster.

This was all done in a single continuous motion and at its end D was on his back out of sight behind the dumpster with Dresner kneeling over him like Romeo over a fallen Juliette a hand gripping D having saved him from the full impact against the wall. He leaned close, his breath audible behind the mask as his hand left D and made its was to the chin of the mask raising it so that his face was visible. "Unique but for its twin." he whispered before standing leaving D on his back, mask back over his face as he lifted his fallen sword and faced D, weapon raised and ready.
 
D clenched his teeth as he got the wind knocked out of him! His eyes narrowed as the masked man got off of him to retreive his sword. D was already on his feet and diving for his whip. As he rolled to his feet and prepared to reengage him, he heard heavy boots, shouts ... The city guard! He didn't have much time. Like hell if he was going to get thrown into prison twice and bail twice all in one day.

He smirked. "Another time then!" He took off running toward the alley's dead end, ran up the wall several feet, activated the whip and used it to reach the flag pole sticking out from the building. Then he swung and disappeared onto the roof. He ran his fingers through his hair as he tucked the whip handle into his belt. He waited to see if the other man would follow.
 
As D made his escape Dresner sheathed his sword and retrieved his cloak. D turned on the roof of the building and Dresner, facing him bowed with a graceful sweep of his arm and his other holding his coat like a performer at the end of a play. "E 'stato grande nemico degno." He called out before he dashed off into the shadows of the alley before the guard swept through, his mask once again wearing the grin.

And so ended one act of Dresner's life and began another that would forever dictate the curse of his future and perhaps contain the grand finale. But just like his mask, he was both hero, and villain as was everyone in their own way.
 
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