Daniel
The two men, not so different as they might think they were, engaged in a calm discord regarding the details of the accord. It began with pleasantries, though beyond such impractical matters of *'How's the wife?'*. Their conversation ranged from discussing the details of their laborious travels. *'Such and such led us to here and there, but we were stopped on the way by this and that, only to have found out we had been travelling in the wrong direction from such and such'* . . . And so on. For Hynes and The Dame only one question mattered: *Was the situation dangerous or not?* But Zacchaeus ignored this inappropriate question, the whispered discord between himself and Giovanni seemingly ending as a stalemate at negotiations. 
 'Gentlemen,' he said, '**Present your blade!**'
 And with that, the formation of bandits flanking either side of Zacchaeus were quick to draw their weapons from their sheath and hold it in front of them.
 'Have I made my position clear, *Sir* Giovanni?' Zacchaeus added a mocking tone to his title, his own lips smirking with a disgusting leer like an old bitter man finding himself miraculously winning his hand in vint. 
 Hynes remained fixed to the branch like a vulture waiting for the blood to be spilt. Zacchaeus turned his head left to right, seemingly agitated and batting his eyes at her apparent absent. His gaze then turned to look straight at The Dame, with his perverted eyes stripping her in his mind. He then held his hand up, only to bring it downward at a straight point toward her.
 '**Giovanni, I present my final offer!** *Hand me that broad, and we can part this without blood*, and with your carriages significantly heavier.' Zacchaeus cupped his hands together and rubbed in anticipation, by this point his band of hired professionals halting their advance though each one eyeing a target death fully. Zacchaeus remained fixed on The Dame, Hynes remaining seemingly absent throughout the whole ordeal. *'Deal or no deal?'*
Elmer
*Diana, would remain relatively quiet. Being already skeptical about the men's intents. It didn't take a genius to figure out his ill-intents were written across his pig looking face. However, the matter of convincing her already untrustworthy partners— of the scammer that stood in front of them. Those same partners she held no allegiance to would be impossible.*

*Doing so would've been a hard call, a call that would jeopardize the safety and her job. Especially in the face of deliberate greed. Trying to decipher their cryptic or rather casual exchange of words proved be more uninteresting, like making small talk with a stranger you didn't want to in the first place. Eventually, despite her efforts she innately tuned the discussion out and began to wander her eyes and ears elsewhere. Noticing the opposing dealers goons were seemingly all too calm as if they knew what to do— or what soon might happen. . .Diana motioned for the Sellsword behind her to unsheath her Claymore, the male took notice and reached out his hand—*

*The sound of unsheathing blades rang in the air. Diana was unable to draw her blade; As her partner seemed to have did so for her. . . Which would have helped if he wasn't wielding his own Greatsword. 
In a moronic display of embarrassment. The male Sellsword that stood behind her now held two Greatswords hilts. But neither blade drawn to defend adequately. He was too slow to hand it over before they were surrounded, frozen in place, staring like deers in the face of hunters. With his error it left Diana defenseless to herself, and now her client. Her pupils dilated, in the face of stupidity of amateurs as her face flushed with anger.*
•••

*Sir. G, frustrated with the failing exchange. Attempted to retaliated at commands of Zacchaeus' men— However, too slow to get his men to draw first. He stood there baffled that he had been outplayed. As Sir Giovanni spoke, his voice agitated and full of fluent mentian accent. Having never been in a stand-off or rather one where his men were caught off guard, or second to draw. He seemed nervous. Angered he was caught with his pants down, his men woefully late drew their blades. Making an attempt to form a defense, but it proved to be utterly useless.*

"**Hold your blades—!** Negotiations have failed; yet you attempt to strong arm me Eh?— What more do you want, I refused to be scammed taking a one-sided deal."

*With chaos bound to ensue if neither party showed compliance, Sir Giovanni soon had a change of heart. As the gesture of his final offer was pointed to. . .

Sir Giovanni, Instantaneously became a diplomat in the face of decimation. All due to his greed of currency. Looking over to the young lady with a look of a coward about save his own ass.*
 "**Your final offer?—** The Mercenary?—T—t—the Dame?"
*Sir G. Said with a defensive tone that seemed to end off in consideration.*

*Hearing her name be spoken to life. Woke her up from her trance. Beneath the cowl a paranoid woman ushered her voice rapidly, Diana cursing at the Sellsword behind her to hand her Claymore over, despite the danger it poised. Zacchaeus was throwing out unrealistic offers now. She didn't care what else happens, she needed to ensure the safety of the client. . .— She'd cut down her every single one of them. The Dame would rather go out fighting then sit here and—*
•••

```He laughed. 

Looking directly in the eyes, of Diana. As he took up Zacchaeus final offer. He continued to heckle as he made it clear. He took his offer seriously. Leaving no doubt he was attempting a fluke. This was a genuine exchange for to The Dame. . . 

"Deal, Take the woman. She holds no value to me. She's a 'Blade-for-Hire',Let alone—an actor wanting to play along in a mens game. If I recall, she is one of those trained acolytes from the Upper Mentia. So two for one deal Zacchaeus. A new wife and magus! Just another pretty face from Upper Mentia. You can find plenty, but this one here is one of a kind."

As Sir. Giovanni finished his sales pitch, with a flick of a hand, signaling to what should be done. The Sell-sword behind Diana would promptly take a jab to her leg with the pommel of the sword, causing her to bend the knee. 

In a impulse, Diana tried to stand up and flee but was met by the fine edge of her own Claymore resting on her neck. Her breath grew shaker, grasping for air as she felt the steel she used to cut down many before—Now used to threaten herself, Diana awaiting her fate was anything but obedient in this situation, demanding in a pained voice as she plead for death—either of her own or theirs. As to not bear witness to the betrayal—nor sinisterness of these evil men.```
Daniel
**There is an idea of a Hynes Blücher, some kind of abstraction.** The personification of self-desire, hate, greed and tragedy. One may find such an entity to solely exist therefore in the pursuit of self interest, though such value would in its nature be hollow, empty and meaningless. After all, is not the most selfish act to rid oneself of suffering suicide? Whilst Hynes believed that life may be meaningless, she did not believe for one to therefore live life as if there was something missing without meaning. Suffice to say, when met with the prospect of a youthful delinquent about to be subjugated to a life of servitude, lust and meaningless, she saw it as nothing more than wasteful. If Zacchaeus wanted a whore, there were plenty of consenting skunks littering the back alleys of Ulnoor to satisfy oneself for however many nights they could haemorrhage coins. Though she was not exactly willing to forfeit her rewards if it was to compromise her own interests, perhaps there could be a loophole; or perhaps she simply wanted a consciousness to be fixated on the fact there had been one in the first place, and she would have done so regardless.
 Hynes in her monologue, had failed to recognise the failing branch which stood on the verge of snapping under the tremendous pressure of her combined weight and equipment. The timing could not have been more convenient, as Diana was already on her knees and part of the cargo already exchanged. Leaping with tremendous force from the tree her daggered gauntlet left a gashing scar as Hynes landed on her knee before the crowd. It was quite the grandiose entrance, if not for the falling branches and leaves nearly landing atop her. Having unnaturally burdened the force of the impact, the figure in black plate armour slowly rose holding a shark tipped spear and a titanic tower shield to her left hand.
 *'Holy Shit that's her Isn't it-' One of the men from Giovanni's corner stuttered.*

*'It's the face of death.'*
 *'No fucking way- It's just a coincidence.' Another man answered, the frantic wavering in his voice only rivalled by the rattling of his sword.*
 To the men at the other side of this accord, anyone with even a remote understanding of the dangers of Silnaria, knew stories of one of its most umbral monsters. A *Black Demon*, some described her from the shell of her armour, *White Death*, to the stories regarding her apparent pale snow skin. Of course, for those with only as much information as to scrounger illustrations from rumours, any exact details of the woman were wholly speculative. They perhaps knew of her name, but that might have been as a consequence of a pretender seeking her identity, fooling them into hiring second hand 'services'. 
 'Ah, Hynes! And here I thought you had run away with the coin. I don't suppose it would've *Helped having you during negotiations*.' Zacchaeus said with an illusory smile whilst whispering a spiteful undertone, relating to her absence.
 'The girl was not part of the deal. Therefore my contract with you has been terminated, Zacchaeus.' The skull helmeted being said, her shield tilted sideways as to allow for both sides to view her in the full light of the moon. Black armour, a skull faced helmet, a red hue emanating from the sockets of its eye which bore directly toward Zacchaeus. It didn't even turn to bat The Dame, who would be able to decipher a muffled feminine voice.
 'You know, Zacchaeus, my spear arm has been getting rather . . . *Malnourished*. You said you expected them to fight upon your scam, yet here I am waiting for blood to be spilt when you wish to bargain yourself not just gold, but a woman. Was *I* Not enough?'

'Hynes- Hynes, surely you of all people must understand that as a simple trader, I must prioritise maximising profits. It's simply a good business practices, not a personal statement regarding your womanhood . . . Or do you prefer I say *Lack off*?' The greedy merchant spilt with a gleeful twitch, upon then feeling the razored edge of her spear suddenly meet his cheek, somewhat drowning out his smile. He swallowed his thoughts perplexed as to how to negotiate with the reaper.
 'You're right about that, but I don't believe you have factored in **My interests**. A claw then gripped the man by the collar, piercing his sleazy outer jacket upon gripping him tight with her prosthetic gauntlet. The man now flailed his feet lightly in the air, grabbing onto Hynes' steel hand with his voice quivering as Hynes' vise slowly recoiled only to lock onto his neck .
 '*You may be able to cheat men, Zacchaeus*, **But you can't cheat death.**'
 Zacchaeus hyperventilated, his words racing with his own sprinting heart. Steamy, salty, sweat slobbered on his forehead, at first slowly, tiny droplets forming rapidly upon his wet skin. Heavier now, flowing down his face, getting into his eyes with no chance of wiping them away. He was flooded with sweat. His tongue couldn't motion a single sentence as if he were a cemented statue. The pores simply accumulated like the years of derelict neglect which had led to his belly swelling and his hair receding. Hynes looked with nothing less than bitter disinterest and bitter disgust at the morbid man.

To The Dame, the force which had lifted her 'buyer', now dreadfully batted its head to face their side. Giovanni detected what could only be described as rupturing nightmares in his eyes. Eyes which, despite baggy with the burden of monstrous fatigue, were seemingly pried to stare open with a vise. . . In a mad craze Zacchaeus began weeping abhorrently and loathed:
 'Goddamnit Giovanni kill this fucking bastard before it kills all of u- *Argh- Urgh!*'
 **C-R-U-N-C-H**
 The sound of a bone crunching produced a gruelling and agonising tune only surpassed in its terror by the woman who had caused it. It was like a crackling sensation felt on the hairs of their skin. The dark knight manifested the low dreaded nightmare which manifested in a fear that had drooled onto one's nape. Touching one's skin like a slithering snake only to surgically inject its poison into the back of the neck. The red light from her eye shone toward The Dame's eye, then toward the man resting a claymore on Diana's skin. Her blaring red gaze scolded the man, as if to say: 'You're next.' The harbinger remained fixed in its gaze whilst Zacchaeus' limp corpse hung suspended, his loose tongue having choked outside his mouth gurgling in a disgusting manner. The men at Zacchaeus' 'aide' were silent and unmoving, pretending that maybe their presence may not be acknowledged had they merely the patience to stay still. The demon then spoke again, directly to Giovanni.
 'Now, I believe I recall you saying, *"She holds no value to me"*, well if that is the case, surely it is not worth your soul in exchange for her myself is it? You're a smart guy, maybe not smart enough for Zacchaeus, but he's dead. **All I have to offer is the girl, for your lives.** *They say don't make a deal with the devil, but what's to lose here?*''
Elmer
*Diana, sitting on her knees as her cowl was displaced from her head, was a blonde haired maiden, youthful and young. Her chin pointed to sky to expose her neck as easy to the blade, Her eyes colored auburn, now darting—almost rattling in her eye sockets looking for an opportunity—anything inconvenient enough to allow herself to go out fighting than a victim, Diana under the assumption she had been setup from the get go, was certain she would become another victim to an unseen crime. Coming to terms she should've went AWOL, instead of taking up this assignment from her guild. Now she would pay the price.*

*The girl feared few things, but captivity had always been a certainty on the list. The girl remained woefully silent lowering her gaze and beginning to come to terms that there was no saving grace—no divine intervention for people like her about to be subjected to a world of trauma; In those few moments, she truly contemplated wether or not to the paint the blade with her blood and rid herself of suffering whatever these bastards had in store for her once handed over, she couldn't find a distraction long enough to put her 'unconventional' traits use, not while directly underneath a Claymore. . . So she grew still, hoping that her presence would shrink and they'd forget about her entirely and go about their days... Her ears began to ringing, almost deafening as she overwhelmed herself in her thoughts.*

```Like that was going to happen.```

*Heads would turn, and so would Diana at the rustling and crashing of metal hitting the ground.*
•••

*Sir Giovanni, and his men would more or less become aghast watching the grand entrance of __the Black Demon__—who would soon turn arms against her former boss. . . From the sight alone, and hearing what seemed to be a feminine voice—adorning a clad suit of ebony armor that strangled and snapped the neck of a bulkier man; It was safe to say anyone from Giovanni's side wasn't getting paid, confident, let alone stupid enough to approach the horror that stood before them— Death was an understatement. The suit of armor represented a Boogeyman, a Omen, for not even the eldest, boldest, nor keenest of grown could overcome. Such fear of being in the present of such individual. Standing in front of urban legend—a sociopath—a primordial evil. . .*

**Reinstating the idea no-one dared to tread anywhere near the armored figure.**

*As the Demon turned her attention away from the lifeless body of the slothful fat man, and towards the second party. Fearful murmurs could be heard, some men could be seen backpedaling just to escape the gaze of the blood hungered monster. The male Sellsword, hands visibly quivering to the point he'd eventually dropped the Claymore, leaving it to fall to the ground in-front of the Dame. The Sellsword rushed to protect his boss, despite being intimidated as well.*
•••

**Diana's ears would gradually stop ringing as she seen her Claymore fall into her reach.**

*In which, she hesitantly placed a her hands on the hilt and pommel affirming that it was real. Diana seemed dazed by the stressfulness of the situation, she was anything but lucid. Unable to meet the Hynes' gaze. Not out of fear, but bewilderment by how fast things had escalated. . . She had a delay realization that the woman before her may have been suffering the same 'aliments'. But used her prowess of it in a more forceful manner. In which, she found an non-verbal connection to Hynes. A blighted hope, in what seemed like her rescue.*

*Sir Giovanni, utterly petrified, stood a still as a statue. Having bare witness to the murder of his paycheck and former business partner. It was suffering he was still able to speak up. However, glad the scammer had been killed, having not learned from his lesson beforehand, he'd still be willing to throw or rather sell anyone to save his own skin. However, it would later show his lacking leadership. So regardless, what happened here his reputation was going to tank.*

"W—W—Why yes?— Take her!— She's all yours—Uh, F—F—Free of charge, I want no true—Uh, we'll be departing now. . . If that is alright?"
**However, he wasn't exactly good at the recalling the details of her exchange, Mishearing his part of the bargaining for his life—?**
Daniel
Each step taken toward the demon took toward The Dame, echoed her malevolent being. Each weighted stride burdened the back of the Sellsword with dreadful regret for not only not running away, but running toward his liege as protectorate, closer to the darkness. Perhaps had they all taken the opportunity to consolidate what they had already taken and fled, the mere inconvenience of catching them weighted the pleasure of their deaths. After all, if one call kill lambs all they wish, with always more for the slaughter; what good is there in chasing a wild rabbit?
 'You miss understand me. I seek this girl, but that alone would not be fair unless I give something in return. **I offer all of you the sanctity of eternal rest.**'
 The sound of metal hitting the ground grew tenfold as so did the cries of men howling before her as men cry. It was like the sight of a routed army, vastly out-maneuvered recognising their defeat on a map ensured their death in battle. Behind her, all of Zacchaeus' former 'bodyguards' had already turn tail and began un-loosening their horses from the tree. One woman had even decided to take a horse for herself alone, though was speared in the back by the man whom she had bedded the night prior. Desperate times of life and death always bring out the truth in n people. The demon remotely glared at Diana, a stern and scolding glare as if to say: *Get up!*, before fixing her skulled face onto Giovanni.
 '**Conversely**, I can offer another *Alternative*. Hynes said, her spear and shied still held in a non combative position, reflecting the fact that she needn't draw a blade to project her message.
 'Sellsword. *Kill this man, and your life maybe spared*' An eerie caw followed her words from a raven, the black bird then joined by another, and another . . . The flock then floated down to Hynes' newest corpse, and began devouring the being. It began with them burrowing their beaks into its torn neck, each wetted in blood and flesh.