The Seven

She had been beautiful, but as Dresner pulled his cloak around himself she was already a fading memory. Its was before dawn and he had always been immune to the after effects of a light of revelry. It was through the darkness that the assassin slipped back into the palace via one of its many secret entrances and made his way along the familiar paths to the royal wing. He knew she would know he was coming, the passage to the royal bedchamber was rigged so that no one could navigate it without its occupant's knowing. To stop unwanted assassins taking advantage of their hidden nature.

"Highness." he whispered before cracking open the hidden door so that she could see who it was but he himself kept his eyes down as he gave her a bow. "My queen." he would have to choose his words carefully. "I have found the mark, she is among her seven, or enough of them to have made it foolish to make an attempt on her life." he raised his eyes before continuing, so she could see he wasn't making excuses. "One of them, a man, is known to me, he is an excellent assassin in his own right. His presence means the price is too low, taking her under his nose will take careful planning and a good deal of timing, but then you usually hire me for my finesse. Though not to worry, I know exactly where they are."
 
The halls filled with the sound of heavy metal boots on stone. Richter Vermilion strode down the hall in full armor and his double bladed sword bound to his back under his cape. He found keeping himself in full armor was much more intimidating to his enemies, a greater sense of leadership around his men, and a dignified yet capable aura around the queen. However behind the emotionless faceplate of his helmet was nothing like the etchings of the armor. The ordeal with the princess had been running him mentally ragged. Not from the urgency, but from how quietly it was all being handled. It was a horrible habit of Richter's to think and think and think when it wasn't related to something on the battle field. Naturally there was reason to keep something like this quiet, but something was just a tad awkward. Richter wanted to look into the state of affairs himself, but hadn't found himself a valid reason to do much of anything yet. The thought had crossed his mind once or twice about doing so without orders. The High General looking into a high profile murder case would be nothing out of the ordinary. Unfortunately any ideas like that seemed to be out the door rather quickly. Orders were being given out and that meant there was no more down time to spend on such things, "Way to waste your time, Richter..." he thought to himself. He paused in front of one of the decorative mirrors on either side of the main corridor and turned around, gazing at the royal seal on the back of his cape, "What would my king have had me do if he were alive. I wonder?"

As he turned down the corridor to the throne room the elite royal guards saluted as he went past, "At ease," he murmured. He strode up to the two guards in front of the large throne room doors, "Is the Queen ready for me yet?"

"No, sir, General Vermilion. We haven't received word to let you in yet," the guard shook his head.

"I see. Then I shall wait here until she is ready. No sense in leaving only to come back."

"Very well sir."

"Come. Sit with me. There's something I'd like to discuss with you," though Richter couldn't see beyond the guard's faceplate he was sure the look underneath was of some degree of surprise.

"Sir?" Richter sat down and the guard followed. Richter lowered his voice to a hushed town.

"What do you think of the present situation? With...you know."

"...S-Sir, I'm...I'm not terribly comfortable talking about this," the guard glanced down the corridor to check for people watching.

"...Hmph. Can't say I'm shocked. Very well, that's all," Richter began to stand but the guard grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down on the bench. Many officers would get angry at something like this, but Richter simply sat back down and listened.

"Sir...do you think something is off too?"

"I never asked you if you thought something was off. Something on your mind?"

"Well...there's always rumors. There's nothing that anyone can do about that," the guard let go of Richter's wrist.

"I'll just wait here at the door then."

"Sir. You never answered my question...?"

".....No, I don't think anything is amiss," Richter thanked the gods he was wearing his helmet now. His face betrayed his words. Regardless, there was no point in worrying anyone else. It was his job to keep the soldiers at ease, "Things are what they are."

"...I'll notify you when the queen is ready to see you."

Richter nodded as he heard his own words echo in his head. It was rather lonely being at the top of the chain of command sometimes.

Richter contemplates recent events himself and with one of the royal elites. Despite his own concerns he dismisses the worries of his fellow men believing it his job to keep the rest of his men at ease, even if it leaves him feeling isolated and lonely.
 
Leaving the side of his beloved Queen was not easy. Even when she was asleep, he wanted to do nothing but gaze at her. Quite smugly, he smiled. Since when did he become so romantic? That woman alone helped him learn to love. She was wicked; wicked enough to send him out to do dirty work for her. There was even the possibility that she wouldn't care when he died. Even so, he didn't have the heart to leave her side.

Whatever the cost may be, he was going to serve her and only her.

All obstacles were easily avoided as he made his way to his first destination. Amethyst told him of someone named Wolf before drifting off to sleep, after their session of love making. A deal had to be made; one that couldn't be refused. The more allies they could gain, the better! There were seven of those trouble making knights. So they called themselves... Even Elathan himself could admit that it was a handful. Not everything could be done on his lonesome.

The farther he journeyed, the more abandoned the scenery became. A gloved hand reached to the ground, sliding a pair of fingers into the loose soil. It was much dustier than what the healthy forest had. In fact, as he progressed, the setting grew grim. Nothing about it was frightening or somber to him, though. It was something he was used to. As a child, he too had to hide himself in places no one would dare go to.

'Now, to find... Wolf.'
 
Captain Zorael Lysander hurried down the corridor. He was uncharacteristically late, having been held up in the mess trying to separate two arguing rookies. Even for someone so agile, he was making quite a bit of noise. The metal boots of his custom Knightguard power armor clicked and clacked on the ground with every bound, his custom Exsanguinator power sword slapping against him where it hung at his left hip. As he neared the last corner, he came to a stop and calmed himself. Sure, anyone waiting outside would know it was him who had been making such a ruckus, but maintaining a composed appearance was expected of men of his station. It would've been a personal mark against his professionalism to do otherwise. Having calmed himself down after his mad dash, Zorael rounded the corner and approached the throne room doors at what he considered a "very official step". As he approached, he noticed High General Vermillion waiting outside the doors.

"The High General? I wasn't told he'd be attending...I hope I'm not in trouble. A mark against me is a further mark against the drow, and that I cannot have."

As Zorael reached the doors, he snapped to attention and saluted the High General, his armored hand clanging against his helmeted head. "Greetings, High General," Zoreal said. "I am Captain Zorael Lysander," He said, before lowering his arm to his side, still at attention. "I..." here Zorael paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "I was not expecting you here. Is everything alright?"
 
Richter sighed as he shook off his own words. Now wasn't the time to distress himself. There were far more important things to worry about at that moment.

"Greetings, High General," Richter turned around to the new voice, "I am Captain Zorael Lysander. I...I was not expecting you here. Is everything alright?" It wasn't hard to tell this Captain Lysander was nervous. It was a reaction Richter was used to by now.

"As far as I know everything is okay. I admit, I wasn't even aware I was supposed to be here until about 45 minutes ago. I'm not sure what exactly is going on," a shrug accompanied Richter's words, "Anyway, there's no need to be so formal with me. Being called High General standalone makes me twitch. You can use my last name, Captain Lysander."

Richter looked the Captain over. Powered armor. Its not that he didn't understand it or appreciate what it does, it was just that he felt it was better to use magic, something that came naturally. Though the fact that it let people not as adept in magic be just as strong was a nice plus. Richter actually owned a hover bike back at his home, though he still kept his horse. In the long run there were advantages to both sides. What made magic more appealing to Richter is that one could master his magic and have very few problems with using it. People who used things like power armor had to learn to operate their armor and repair it. Even if you mastered one, if something was wrong with the other then who knows what might happened, "Still. They have my respect for doing both like that...

"So, Captain, what's your story? How'd you come to be in the military?"
 
Zorael continued to stand at attention as he answered Richter's question, since he hadn't been told to be at ease, and he was a good soldier. "Well, High Gen...er...General Vermillion, as a child, my village was destroyed by l-l-liz...by raiders. I managed to escape, but nearly died in doing so. A soldier happened to find me and nursed me back to health. That's basically why I wanted to join the military, so I could meet this person, though I've since been told that he left several years before I joined."

Being able to refer to the High General using his name made Zorael relax a bit. Whatever was going on, it was clear that his career was not in jeopardy. "So, General Vermillion, if I may ask, do you have any idea why we've been summoned here?"
 
Unfortunately no. I haven't been told much of anything either. I suppose we'll find out together...oh, at ease by the way," Richter frowned. Mention of a soldier that Zorael mentioned made him think back to his old superior officer, "...Arthur t'Arronde..." Richter muttered the name without realizing. The exile had been a surprise for most everyone in the unit. It seemed unusually harsh, at least to the men. After Richter was promoted out of that swamp outpost they stuck him in to keep his supposedly "evil" powers in check he served under t'Arronde. He had been a good man and Richter couldn't help but wonder where he was now.

"Well, I suppose all we can do is sit and wait, eh, Captain?"
 
Roselyn Chloe Amelia Stewart Kingsly

"So that's how things stand," Rose said wondering how such very different men could look so much alike right now. It was their expression, Rose finally figured out, they where worried, just as much as she was, she was just better at hiding it. Rose stood and walked behind Arthur patting his shoulder reassuringly. "I know that the Seventh will show up if he's not dead," Rose wish she could get to the charm to let her know who was alive and who was not. Old magic to be sure, but it worked so well. "If he doesn't show up before night fall, you two will have to move the princess again." At this point she was now standing closer to Cervantes, a hand over his.

Rose needed to keep these two soldiers focused on the important thing, keeping their princess safe. She tried to express that with her every being, so when she sat down she also tried to make what she said next seem as insignificant as possible. "It is not ideal, I'd rather have him here so that he can help guard the princess, but I can handle dealing with the intelligence well enough on my own to recall our companions." In other words she would go alone to hunt for the missing Seven, possibly going into situations they themselves were not able to handle by themselves. There was no other option of course, her relative safety was secondary to being sure the princess was absolutely safe.

As leader of the Seven this was not her right, nor privilege, this was her duty to her men as well as her liege.



Amethyst, Queen-regent of Vykendria

Amy was a heavier sleeper then she'd ever like to admit, though she did recall a moment when she noticed her lover left, another thought that she had told him to do something, though she quickly had fallen back asleep and did not recall what it had been that had sent the huntsman away.

Now a few hours later she was waken again by something that put her on her guard. Speaking the start of an incantation she covered her nakedness barely with a robe and waited to see who appeared before her. The assassin was smart to speak before she had time to worry. She did not let it be known the extent of her arcane knowledge, in fact she gave no indication she knew anything but a few folk remedies that were iffy on breaking a curse. The sort of thing too many noble women played at.

The next words did not please Amethyst in the least. He wanted more money and fretted that he would not be able to retrieve the princess. While she only gave a shadow of a frown, it would have been more suspicious had she not shown any reaction to this information, she kept him from knowing the extent of how she felt about all of this.

It also made her feel her decision on recruiting more help was very wise indeed. "While this is unexpected, I am pleased that you are keeping a close eye on this assassin. Tell me what you need in the short term."
 
"A vehicle, fast, light, sleek. Preferably quiet too. A bike, but not from Argacom or any of their sub brands. The last was send clashing onto the roof of you beloved cathedral by a single bullet from a pistol." he paused. "And you assurance that my act is a one man show. The duet is dead and I do not work with extras. You no doubt have other eager for the job and hiring them is you prerogative but theirs and mine are completely different shows." he counted two fingers as if he were checking off a list, "Oh and additional funds.... will not be necessary. I only ask you raise the price since I will have to cover the expense of replacing some of my more specialized equipment. We've always worked on a cash on delivery basis and it would be a shame to change that. Hmmmm.... an extra 53% to be would cover it. A poultry to secure your kingdom."
 
Amethyst, Queen-regent of Vykendria


Amy lifted an eyebrow. She knew very little about vehicles, but had to admit to being impressed that someone could send one crashing with just one bullet. "Yes yes, that sounds reasonable. What more can you tell me about this man that is so extraordinary though," she asked with true interest. Watching his body movement.

Was he and his brother such fools not to realize that the late king would not have impressive people in his hire? If not then maybe it wasn't a surprise that the one was now gone. In any event she would have to talk to Elathan about this later. If he wasn't as disappointed in this as she was there would be problems.
 
Arthur nodded, taking a measure of re-assurance from Rose's delicate touch. She was a natural leader, a good one, too. She was sharp of mind, with a keen eye for tactics and strategy. She was calm, collected, a solid warrior, and had that perfect motherly air about her. She herself would probably have made a wonderful Queen, now that he thought of it. How strange, such a thought would cross his mind.

"I don't think the Seventh will be dead, but he may not show up, just the same. It's funny, how these things work out." He sighed a bit, his shoulders sagging gently. "You have the measure of it however, my dear, and I see no fault in your logic. The boy and I will guard the Princess, if it comes to it."

He nodded with his words, a firmness coming through his voice as he spoke. His sagging shoulders suddenly seemed to be made of iron, his body firm where he stood. No, not iron... He was more a willow tree of many, many years. Massive, powerful, but flexible and with the facade of looking weaker than it actually was.

"I need my sword, however." He spoke with a sudden, mighty grin. There was something startling about that look. His canines came through, showing up like fangs, and a shine came through in his eyes that only few men truly understood. Arthur would use his blade once again, the way he had been trained to do so many decades ago. While he did not relish in blood and murder, there was something about the clash of steel and the working of muscle that made him feel...

... Alive.
 
Distance flew. Hooves beat against the ground. He bent his head to the sleek, curved neck, held onto the reins. A horse that ran faster, longer, and far smoother than its naturaly counterpart galloped beneath him. D always travelled light; it was a necessity. It had merely taken him this long to get underway because of unfinished business. His mode of transportation appeared outdated and he made sure to keep it that way. It gave any would-be attackers a false sense of security.

The mechanical horse only slowed when they came in sight of Musken and from there, he took things nice and slow. Small town or not, it was always smart to check out your surroundings, make escape plans here and there. For D, it was a challenge he made to himself, to see how many escape routes he could come up with in the shortest amount of time.

He found a place to put the horse, out of immediate sight but close by. Finding the others was very easy. Small group of people that didn't look like they belonged together. He had a harder time shooting soldiers in a cell. Two men and that woman from earlier. Either people had died and not been replaced since then or he'd missed the memo on missing work today for a vacation. "Nice place," he said. "Can't wait to see where we have the company picnic."
 
I look away. What was there to say? The man I'm agreeing to kill had been the only person who had been there for me after our parents died, the last family the last family I had left, and hadn't even recognized me. "Hes a member of the guild whose forgotten his place and as such his life is forfeit. He was once our most ambitious member and has most likely sided with your stepdaughter in order to lick ballroom slippers all the way to the throne room" Lies, he'd never accept second place "Or to marry her and become king himself." too subtle for him but I can't work out his game, leaving only the conclusion his amnesia is genuine. "Bottom line is hes dangerous and motivated and one of the best we had."

I can't tell her more than that, if she knew who I though it was, shed question my commitment to the job. "It will be a pleasure to run down the cur that thinks he can walk away from his friend, family, commitments, and obligations."
 
Roselyn Chloe Amelia Stewart Kingsly

Rose looked up at Arthur and frowned. Now was not the time to go back for his sword. Their priority was to take care of the princess. She was going to say as much to the older man when they were no longer three at the table, but four.

The seventh seven. A mysterious man, who Rose wanted to get to know better. What was it about his that made his predecessor choose him? What was it the drove him? While she trusted him, she had to make that leap of fate and do so, she still wanted nothing more then lock him in a room and interrogate him for half a day.

"No picnic until we get her back," Rose said indicating the princess with a motion of her head. How she envied the princess to put aside her worries enough to enjoy being outdoors. "I was just explaining how while you three move the princess and keep her safe for a while, I am going to go looking for our missing companions."



Amethyst, Queen-regent of Vykendria

The queen could tell from his tone that there was nothing but contempt for this other. There was however something missing. There was passion in his despise that Amy could not place. Whatever it was, something was driving Dresner besides money. It wasn't a certainty, but Amy wasn't going to ignore her gut reaction.

"I see," she said as she walked over to her mirror. "The vehicle will be in the location expected. Take care of this."

No longer was she looking at the assassin. Instead she was looking at her own reflection, lifting her hair this way and that with her hands to choose the style she would wear during her address to her generals. There was always something to do.
 
I bow to her even though her eyes are elsewhere. Our convocation is at an end and I got her to agree to my terms, after a fashion. Closing the way behind me leaving her in privacy I return the way I came. In reality I am relieved yet apprehensive. The so called 'Seven' turned out to be fewer in number, for the moment. Yet they will undoubtedly meet up with the others soon. Until they do they will be on guard and getting to them will be harder, so it is best to wait until they feel secure, then they well relax and perhaps the chance will come, its not like they will be difficult to find.

I exit the secret ways and begin heading towards my quarters, yet it seems I am not alone and I see a familiar outline in the low light, another of the queen's special retinue, and slowly I draw my pistol so that it is easily in view resting on my palm.

"Still a slight hesitation on the trigger." I say softly to the weaponmaker. "Almost killed someone I didn't mean to, good thing hes a good dodger." I slide the weapon away and as we pass I whisper to my dearest friend, if such a thing can exist in our world. "It was him, though he seems to have forgotten us. Literally."
 
Wolf sat amongst the branches of a tree as he watched the Huntsman work his way deeper into the forest. After following for some time the Huntsman was in a position that the Wolf figured was advantageous enough for himself. Stepping onto a branch that was closer to the Huntsman, the Wolf began his game.

"What's this we have here? A devil's child?" He called out, but with the forest his voice sounded as if it could have come from anywhere. "On your way home are you devil's child? There are easier ways to hell than baiting wolves." After he said this he moved away from the Huntsman, blending back into the trees. Hunters were never a real concern for Wolf, but he still didn't like having them around.
 
Elathan had a feeling he was being followed. This was the Wolf's territory, so he had the advantages, knew the way, and put the forest to use. The half-demon himself used similar tactics when assassinating. A smirk touched his lips briefly as Wolf kept himself out of view, threats dripping from every word that he spoke. There was no blaming him, either. Who in their right mind would welcome a half demon?

"I won't stay long," he promised, holding his position. His gaze shifted from side to side, seeming to search for who he was talking to. Face to face conversations weren't a requirement of his, but he was curious about this creature. Unfortunately, there was no time to wait, nor did he want to taunt the beast until he came out of hiding.

"I arrive with an offer from my Queen, if you're willing to help us with a... Problem," Elathan began to say, both hands joining behind his back. "There are seven menaces trying to throw her off the throne. Seven powerful menaces, at that.

You'd be very interested in the reward she has in mind, if you're willing to keep listening."
 
Zorael breathed a mental sigh of relief when General Vermillion finally said those two magic words. 'At ease'. Zorael's posture, however, showed little change. Nothing more than slightly relaxed arms and a slight bow to the legs. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, sir, but I hope we don't have to wait too long. I'm rather anxious to get back to my duties. The men tend to get a little...careless, shall we say, without someone to keep an eye on them." Then a thought crossed Zorael's mind, a thought that, under normal circumstances, he wouldn't even bother to entertain. But with the rather relaxed atmosphere, Zorael couldn't see the harm in asking. "So, sir, if you don't mind my asking, what were things like back when you were just another rank-and-file soldier?"
 
"Back when I was rank and file, eh? Well. If I'm going to tell you that I'll have to tell you another small story first," Richter sat down and pulled his helmet off, "I don't know if you know this, but I'm a user of dark magic and energies in my attacks," to drive the point home he looked Zorael in the eyes and pointed to his own. One was its original green, the other had long since turned red though it lost none of its kind appearance. His hair on the other hand had always been white and had nothing to do with his powers, "Now you know the whole cliche idea that all dark magic users turn into homicidal power-hungry maniacs right? Well, when I enlisted in the military and showed them that I had a strong command over magic like that at a young age they stuck me in a backwater swamp post. I didn't realize it back then, but that was for them to 'control me' or some nonsense like that," There was a metallic thunk as Richter set his helmet down, "So I did the only thing I could do. Being the enthusiastic fresh-faced soldier I was I did everything I could to improve that post until they had no choice to promote me. I drifted from base to base after that through various transfers until I was finally made a captain and put under the command of Arthur t'Arronde as my commanding officer..." Richter trailed off at that point.

"And then...you know...the king died," Richter's voice went very hushed at that point. No one liked talking about the King's death, but it was regrettably part of his story, "At that point Arthur got a little...vocal...about the queen. It was a very hectic time and no one really knew what would happen." Richter's voice returned to normal after this. After that I was involved in various troop movements and rebel uprisings. I just continued to use my powers for the good of the kingdom and the fact that I was turning out to be a good soldier, dark magic or no, started becoming something that couldn't be ignored. And not terribly after t'Arronde's falling out Her Highness made me her High General. I always found it odd that I got to skip several ranks, but apparently she'd taken a shine to me for whatever reason. She's been pretty good to me though," Richter's story ended here. He did leave out the part that she always made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Like he was naturally on his guard around her...

...Or maybe it was the low cut dresses she wore. How the hell was he supposed to know?
 
Arthur's eyes were locked on Rose's when her face seemed to twist in disapproval. He knew that look, having recalled it from his earler years and her youth. She was actually gearing up to say something, when they had an 'unannounced' visitor.

He didn't spin, or make any grande gestures of having noticed the arrival of their latest comrade. He recognized him after a passing moment, from back in the slummy older city he had initially made a mad-dash to recover the Princess from. With a nod, Arthur clandestinely slid his knife back to the sleeve holster he had been drawing it from.

Had it been anyone else, they would have found a piece of steel sticking from their chest.

"We will move her, but first," Arthur spoke emphatically, "I need my sword." It was more than an heirloom, and a tool, and something he cherished. There was a unique quality to his blade, and it was something far more than simply familiar in his hands. Oh, Arthur was a master of sword-combat, and any bladed instrument was deadlier than any pulse rifle in his hands, but with this blade... He could decimate an entire platoon wielding smart guns.

They'd need it for the battles ahead. He'd need it!

"I'll be quick about it, Rosie." He smiled as he stood, and bowed deeply towards the Princess. "I will return with utmost haste, worry you not. Besides, you'll have two very-able-bodied gentlemen protecting you." His gaze turned to the other two younger men, and something about it became hard, almost a warning like that of a father giving to a young man courting his daughter.
 
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