Edward
Eric was quiet, seeing he was the odd one out. He wasn't entirely for Anya leaving, but if someone could help the poor boy, it might help solidify his status as an heir. The boy is brush stroke from death, and the moment he dies, Feyshore and Astoria are without an heir. That could lead to a succesion crisis, civil war, and before we all knew it a second Fall of Feyshore. 

He looked at Angelica, then, realizing the apologetic look he gave he looked at Zane to break suspicion as to why he kept glancing at her. He and Angelica promised to keep their personal lives out of work. So, he decided to see how many times he could disagree with her in a day.

"I didn't have the pleasure of meeting Prince Mikhail," He said quietly but clearly, "But if he is as bad as you all claim he is, we should be turning over every rock to help him. Anything, because he is the heir. If our heir cnnot feel things, and is within an inch of death, for the sake of Feyshore and Astoria we need the strongest heir we can make him. Is Azarya at least _safe_?"
Joseph
Anya lifted her chin a bit, readjusting in her seat. Marcus had disappeared the moment Zane moved into his seat, but she was very aware the man was standing behind her, watching over her shoulder. 

"The decision has already been made. Eric is to travel to Stormalong tomorrow to retrieve him and bring him home." Her gaze moved to Eric. "_Heavily disguised._" She said, adding as much weight to the words as possible. "You deliver him here, we set out with the alchemist I have hired to come with us. We will spend no longer than a month in Azarya."

Angelica's lips parted "Anya-"

The Queen closed her eyes. "_Please_ do not fight me on this." She said softly, and Marcus' hand fell onto her shoulder. "There are more reasons I want to go than just Mikhail." She pulled her hand from Angelica's and turned them over on the table. "Last night I went to clean Zane's injury, the blood triggered the sigils. I felt like I was on _fire_." She murmured, and exhaled. "My skin grew hot enough to cauterize his wounds with a _touch_. I can feel this building, something is happening, and it's only getting worse. Mikhail is getting worse. If I don't find a way to get us _both_ under control, Astoria and South Feyshore won't have a ruler at all." As she spoke, Marcus squeezed her shoulder, and she sighed once more. 

"Maith is sending reinforcements for you all, to help run the kingdom in my absence. I don't intend to be gone long, and I will be in _constant_ contact."
Miguel
"I just want it to be known, I don't support this." Zane told them, looking between everyone there. "But, if that's what you want, that's what will happen." He sighed at that, and rolled his shoulder as best he could. Instead of thinking of who he could spare to watch Anya in case she ran, his thoughts now went to who he'd have shadowing them. Most likely the group that went to Araedia with him, as they were the one's with the most combat proficiency.

"As much as I wish that was all we had to talk about, there's still the problem with Araedia. They hired Amalthea to kill Mika, and while that isn't something that can go unpunished, I don't believe we should go to war with them." He told the three, his face stoic. "While I was there, I met with their Head Knight. He alone struck me as a strong figure, and rumors have it that he's the owner of the sole domesticated Griffin. The size of their army, even in the Capital alone, was immense." He shook his head, and sighed. "I have some people heading there to scout out their Capital, but I fear that there will be too many."
Joseph
"Which is why I wanted to bring up the fact that you three will be ruling in my stead. I need a solid answer on what our intentions are with Araedia before I leave. I don't want to come back to some stupid decision having been made."
Edward
Eric tilted his head at the news that he would be escorting the prince to Zahrada. "Of course, what time do I depart?" Eric asked, before Zane began talking. "How else do you punish someone for attempting to murder our _prince_? That is an attack on Feyshore and Astoria. On our stability. We need to do something, because if the news gets out that we knew and then did _nothing_, others will know we are afraid to act." Eric commented, going over the numbers. He could raise a fair sized Army in Feyshore and something decent in Astoria. The Storm-Men-At-Arms are some of the best equipped and are likely more battle hardened than any Araedian commander. HAving fought a war before landing in Feyshore and a counter insurgency for three years. 

"Should it come to war, I want the command. I can raise every single man who can hold a spear in Feyshore, and I can keep them fighting to the last. I'm also one of the only people in the kingdom who has actually won battles, and has ran supply lines near the Southern borders. I know the country, I know how to move an army there."
Miguel
"You may be able to raise an army, and you may know how to move an army in the Southern Borders, but what good will all that do when they run those men down?" Zane fired back, raising a brow. "Cause when I say this, Eric, I mean it. In their Capital alone, they probably had more men then you could ever hope to raise. That's not including what they can raise from the other cities in their kingdom." He sighed as he started to tap the table. "That's without even knowing their supplies, their high ranking officers, or anything else that could grant us a leg up. Besides, we don't even need to know their numbers, cause I can say this with certainty. It won't matter. They outnumber us, have more supplies then us, and they'll more then likely be more coordinated the we are." He raised his gaze from where it rested on his hands, and let his gaze cross everyone's own. "So tell me, why should we fight a war that we have no hope of winning? What will be the point in that? Some petty attempt at revenge? Trying to keep an image, when we're still trying to rebuild? What do we get out of this, other then nothing?"
Joseph
Angelica pressed her lips together, listening to both Zane and Eric. Exhaustion radiated off of Anya, and she was fighting to keep her eyes awake, but the men seemed too busy choosing sides to notice. 

"I don't want a war. We can't afford one right now. Not if Anya is going to be gone, not if Mikhail is going to be on the continent. We don't have the men or means, and we're _already_ struggling to get South Feyshore out from it's ruins. The winter hasn't been kind, they're surviving, but barely." She looked to Eric, and laid her hand on his thigh. "Thinking in terms of the cost of lives, it's not worth it."

Anya nodded, her hand moving to her shoulder under the guise of playing with her hair. "At least not yet." She said, though her voice echoed when she spoke. Marcus had said it too, and the undertone of her voice was so distinctly his that Angelica tensed. 

_"Get yourself acquainted with the gifts you were given. You'll be able to handle Araedia with Maith's help when the time comes. But that's not now._" He told her, and patted her shoulder. He moved across the room, practically gliding with every step. As he passed Angelica, his hand grazed her shoulders, and there was the slightest indication of movement on her hair as he passed, and the blonde shivered before pulling on the sleeves of her coat. 

"Give me the month. We'll see what information comes up, and what I can accomplish. It'll get us out of the deepest part of winter, and hopefully on the rise. We don't _actually_ have enough information to do anything yet, but I want you all fully aware that _something_ is going on." She sighed, and looked to Eric. "While I'm gone, you'll be needed in South Feyshore. Zane and Angelica will handle the Astorian affairs, and Angelica can travel between to assist. But we've spoken about it, and since the timing is seemingly impeccable, I suppose now is as good of a time as ever to offer you the Lordship position in Stormalong."
Edward
Eric tensed when offered the double edged sword. He was needed in Feyshore, in Stormalong, a hundred miles from Zahrada and more importantly, Angelica. A sigh escaped his lips, the burden of responsibility on his shoulders, looking at Zane, Anya and lastly Angelica for a noticably longer amount of time. 

"I accept, your grace. Thank you, you're too generous to me." He said, truly appreciative of the titles and positions. But somehow it stung, he wouldn't see Angelica for while once he left. "While I'm there I will cooperate closely with our new lords and ensure that Feyshore will have an army ready at a moment's notice. "When shall I depart to pick up Prince Mikhail?"
Joseph
"Tonight, if you can. Otherwise tomorrow morning, before dawn. I don't want you traveling the main roads. Mikhail is to be concealed at all times, I'll give you something to help change his appearance on the road, but I don't want anyone knowing who he is or where you're headed." She looked to Angelica, who's gaze had dipped to her lap. 

"You'll return him to a safehouse at the edge of Zahrada, where myself and Doctor Coren will meet you, as well as the Alchemist. After the drop off I'll expect you to gather what information you need to begin your work in Stormalong."
Miguel
Zane looked between the three others as they discussed when Mika was going to be picked up, deciding to let them know about his plans. "I'm going to send a group of my agents with you, Eric. They'll be shadowing you while you pick him up, and they'll be following you to Azarya. They'll be under orders to not interfere too much, but will be told to step in if things go wrong." He sighed as he felt a bit of phantom pain lace up his body, the feeling of the blade biting into the skin and shredding it, flashing into his mind for a moment. "You won't have too worry about their combat abilities, I can promise you that. You'll find their combat prowess to be a lot better then their status as spies would make people think."
Edward
Eric looked to Zane, "Extra eyes never hurt aslong as they can keep up. I ride fast, and, for most part I can hold my own in combat. So they won't need to emerge from hiding." Eric then turned to Anya, "I will set out as soon as I can, but," He paused, "I will ride hard for Stormalong, I should be able to leave before midnight. It will take time, especially on backroads, to get there and back. But I will go as quickly as the prince can take." Eric said.
Joseph
Anyanka nodded. She'd expected Zane to want to shadow her, and she wasn't opposed to the idea at all. "Thank you Eric, you're dismissed, go prepare for your journey." When she dismissed him, Angelica looked up.

"May I be dismissed as well, this conversation has given me a headache." The blonde murmured, and Anyanka gave her chancellor a sympathetic look. Undoubtedly the headache was from Marcus' touch, and the Queen nodded. "Yes, you may go as well, Angelica. Try and get some sleep, I'll alert you before I head out."
Edward
Eric bowed his head, rose, looked at Angelica and then walked out quietly, holding the door for Angelica and closing it once she passed it. "Well, this complicates things." Eric muttered to her with a tone of amusement that was generally reserved for her. He tried to set a lighter mood for her, knowing how often stress and worry crushed her.
Miguel
Zane saw Eric and Angelica leave the room, and sighed as they went. "Anya, I wish to speak to you about something." He asked the woman, turning to her. Zane took note of her tired appearance, and sighed softly. She looked like she was trying not to pass out, so he stood and offered her his arm. "We can discuss it somewhere else if you'd like."
Joseph
The two left, and Anya watched the door for a long moment, trying her best not to let her head lull. She hadn't slept, her body was aching and she felt like she was burning alive from the inside out. It wasn't a fever, she knew that much, it was magically inclined, and partially why she agreed to go North. "Of course." She said simply, and took his arm, finding him practically freezing in comparison to herself. 

* * * 

Angelica followed Eric out of the meeting room and into the hall, and immediately grabbed for his hand. He made a joke about things now being complicated, and she tried not to smack him for it as she lead him away from the room. When they came across the first parlor they could she shoved him inside, and closed the door firmly behind her. "Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed? We're trying to maintain peacetime for the sake of surviving the winter and you're pushing for a war!" She released him, and pushed both her hands through her hair, turning to pace the room. "And now Anya is leaving and you'll be in Stormalong and now _I'm _ expected to step in to fill a power vacuum the size of a magical queen and all I can think about is _you_ wanting to run off to Araedia and start a battle we can't win right now."
Edward
"I didn't mean to go _tomorrow_, but we need to start preparing _now_. We are in winter, you can't fight wars in winter, but we need to be prepared for first thaw." She kept pacing, and before speaking he walked up to her, held her by the shoulders and kissed her. He held it for a few seconds before pulling back. "Everything I have been taught since Randall found me was how to wage war. How to prepare for war, how to lead men to kill other men. 'Gelica, come the Spring, I am going to push for us to give Araedia an ultimatum, hand over everyone involved in our prince's murder, or I will go and rip them from their holes myself."

"You are a perfect fit to fill in for the queen. You're the best administrator in Marin, you are bold, decisive, and better at math than I could ever hope to be. If any of her lords anywhere give you trouble, I am a letter away and I will kick their doors in and fix them." He kissed her again, a peck, "You got this. You can do this. Imagine how I feel? I haven't a _fucking_ clue on how to be a lord." He said, holding her close. 

"But this can wait, I have a prince to pick up. When I come back with Mikhail, I will see you one last time before returning to Stormalong."
Miguel
When she grabbed his arm, he made sure that he didn't touch any of her burnt or blistered skin. He lead the way to her room, keeping the pace slow so that she could keep up, and not fall asleep. Zane could feel the heat she was radiating, and it scared him a bit. While he was grateful she had healed him, he also wished it didn't come at this kind of cost.

They made their way to her room, and Zane led her to the bed. He picked her up and laid her on the bed, before he moved to the basin in the room. He grabbed one of the hanging rags and wet it, wringing out the excess water as he pulled it up. He moved back over to the woman, and began to run the rag over her burnt and blistered skin.

"I never got to thank you for healing me." He mumbled down to her, moving the rag as softly as he could. "You ran out as soon as I sat down." He stalled a bit, before he continued. "While I am grateful, promise me you won't try something like that again, please."
Joseph
The kiss was quick, but his grip on her shoulders stopped her pacing. She held his gaze when he spoke about Randall, about war, about Araedia and things they didn't even _know_ about yet. He was so eager to place the blame when they weren't even certain _why_ they were blaming them. She needed more information to be furious, she was a firm believer that you needed evidence to prove a claim, and a reason behind it. They hadn't found a reason yet as to _why_ Araedia would want Mikhail dead, at least not fully. 

Her eyes moved away from him, welling up a bit because the day had turned so sour so quickly, and she was thoroughly overwhelmed at the idea of herself being the only one left in court. Zane would no doubt be bouncing around their territories, trying to gather information. He left at the drop of a hat all the time. Marcus was long gone, Anyanka would leave, and now Eric would be gone too. She worked best with someone to bounce ideas off of, and she'd be the only one left who was on their level. The blonde inhaled, but her breath hitched before her hands moved up to her face, wiping furiously at the tears that ran down her cheeks. _Why was she crying?_ She felt foolish for worrying, considering she'd also be the only one safe at home. 

"Go," She said finally, wiping at her face. "Go get Mikhail, be _careful_. He'd got a bad shoulder and I don't think he's ridden in over a year. Keep your eye on him, keep him safe. Keep _yourself_ safe." She put her hands on his chest and gave him a small push to get him to go.
Leon
"That's pretty cool." Was her simple reply, not bothering to go further into it. He impressed her entirely and she hoped he planned on sticking around her for a while. Walking back towards the bedroll she slept in, her slender fingers wrapped around the neck of the cloak he had lent the shifter and slid it over her shoulders. The warmth engulfed her body instantly, she enjoyed the heat and the cover it gave her but she would need to return it. The piece of clothing was not hers to keep, she just needed it until she found the thug's. 

Turning her head over her shoulder, Marsila looked towards Rekken with a small frown planted on her lips. "I can't exactly help that I am desperate to get my things back. The longer we wait, the less chance I have at retrieving it. I'm only ever good at tracking down someone I know the name of along with the face." 

She was clearly frustrated at not having the chance to find the answers she had been seeking before the guards interrupted them. If they had more time, Marsila may have found what she needed.
David
The wanderer watches as Marsila wears his cloak once more. It is quite large for the shorter being, draping the ground as she moves around, but it does suit her, overall. If she likes red like he does, maybe she will find herself wearing something similar. Or maybe not. The guy is just thinking trivia. He does say, "You look good.", though it is a genuine compliment cloaked in a jest. The guy smirks.

She speaks of how she was close to finding out where they stashed her stolen goods, but by now the guy thinks it is somewhere more obvious than some hidden hole or cache. "We should take a peek in the black market. High chance they already sold it off or paid some debt. People like that usually steal to get an extra bit of coin or pay their moneylenders. Do you know where the black market would be in this town?" His guess is the sewer system, as it is usual, but he does not know the layout of town, nor where to begin. This is his first time visiting, or rather second, since the two came out to camp in the woods.
Leon
Marsila raised both of her brows in surprise to the compliment before lowering her eyes to her own body, her fingers reaching to the material of the cloak so she could pull it out more to study it. Once she was finished, her gaze snapped back towards Rekkan while a small smile parted her lips. "Thankyou." 

As he mentioned the black markets, the smile fell instantly. She had never been to the black markets, nor did she plan on seeking it out. Marsila has heard stories about them and the dangers of going alone, there was always atleast one in every kingdom. She shook her head. "I have no clue about where we would find it. I've scouted the town when I first came here but because I wasn't searching for it specifically.." 

A dreaded sigh could be heard as she thought of her mother's belongings now lost to some strangers. "What if it had already been sold?" Her voice shook slightly as she did her best to calm herself down. It was easy for her to over exaggerate so she did her best to think of their situation logically. "If we are going to search for the black markets, we will have to find the stingiest part In town. I assume we could find a lead there."
David
The guy doesn't want Marsila to feel bad about it before searching true and proper. They can still locate it, he's sure. But what is it? Surely she isn't going on about her money and the guy caught onto it already. "Look," He says "I will need you to come clean with me for a second. It's easy enough to realize you're not looking to get your money back. They took something important from you."

He looks off to the separation of trees and brush and sees beyond, onto the walls of the town. There, he can see the gates which appear small in the distance, blotted out by flora. "If it is an object you are missing, and a dear one, I have the ability to try and track it down. Especially if it holds some kind of magical power. If not, we will improvise. I am a man of many qualities. You can call me the leading man." He's boasting coming to the end of this little monolog, but he's not half wrong. Sort of.

"So..." He turns to the girl. "What is it you are looking for?"
Leon
Marsila was struggling to know whether or not she should trust this man. He had only met her the other day and she didn't have much faith in others but, her necklace meant too much for her to lose. When he mentioned magical properties it may have held that he may be able to track, Marsila decided she would need to put her trust in him. 

"It's a blue jewel encrusted in gold. My father carved my initials into it so that should make it easier to find." Even though her main reasoning for wanting to search so badly for it was because it belonged to her mother, but she would be lying if there wasn't something else to it. Her father had left to find a mage and managed to pay her into enchanting the jewel, this way she never had to worry about losing control over her shifts. "I don't care about anything else but this. So how are you going to trace it?" 

Marsila knew what he was capable of but couldn't help the doubt that settled in her stomach. She would have to go back to her parents for them to make another, that was the last thing she wanted. She couldn't stand the thought of seeing their anger and disappointment on her return for her leaving without a word. She would have worried them sick.
David
The man listens intently to physical and magical detail. With a general idea of its looks and the type of magic attached to the jewel, it might not be hard at all to find the item. It is just a matter of it still being in town or not. With any luck, they will be able to find it still in the morning. Rekkan only hopes he can, as the enchantment seems to be important. In order to track it, the warrior will have to filter the magics in the town, which might be easy considering arcana is usually tied to talented people, not just any commoner. Spiritual signatures are one thing, but delving into the traces of magic makes it all the more easy.

Rekkan nods and begins walking towards civilization. He only answers her question when they are already out of the woods and walking the open road to the town gate. "It should not be hard to track. I will try to scan the town for its particular signature. These kinds of enchantments are usually focused, meaning they anchor themselves to the core, the jewel. It will give off a strong aura, one that must overwhelm the nature of the user." He explains, trying to make sense. He is not the best teacher, truth be told.

The wanderer greets the guards and walks past them. When he is a few blocks into the town, he makes a sharp turn left and enters an alley. Once in the narrower path, Rekkan opens third eye (figuratively) and begins to chant. Through his gaze, he begins to see the sinews of reality and how beings and objects are braided. His dark brown eyes peer with shimmering red in the pupis, storming irises, being guided by the shapes of bright lights with blue hues. Arcana is close. He skirts the market and little more through the alleys until they reach an unsavory part of town, the sewers. It is there that he sees, granted possible vision, that a magical item might be in the old warehouse, derelict and abandoned, just two blocks away. For an old building, it is brimming with spiritual energy. The black market, perhaps?

"We might need to fight." He says. "This will be no bar brawl, nor will they think twice about killing you if they feel like it." Rekkan goes to the side of his pants and searches his improvised pocket. He takes a leaf from it. From the sheathe on his thigh, he draws Vryska's gift. He hands both to the girl. "The dagger for offense. The leaf, clench it tight on your off hand. It will protect you when you are in danger." The dagger itself is a well made hunting dagger, crafted with runes of mysterious design, whirls and spirals. There is a certain warmth to it, though it lacks enchantments. Like the creator gave their all to make it, deep affection. The leaf looks like a regular leaf, only, this one definitely holds magical properties. It is hard to say what. When Marsila clenches it in her fist, she will find its fluid coating her enclosed palm.
Edward
His heart did a back flip and his stomach sank when he saw the tears roll down. His throat dried up, and he instinctively pulled her into a close embrace. "I'll be back, it's only a couple days. Stormalong is miles of _my_ country, I know it, better than anyone. I'll be with you before you notice I'm gone, okay?" He asked, his hold on her tightening. "We both have jobs to do." He pulled out of the hugs and lifted her chin up so he could look at her better, then wiped a tear off her cheek with a reassuring smile. "It will be a good bonding experience for the Prince and I." Eric said, "I haven't met him yet."
Leon
Marlisa followed in Rekkan's steps, listening carefully as he educated her on the aura of signature enchanted, or any magical items held and how he would be able to locate it. Her head slowly nodded, the shifter had very little knowledge about my types of magic, if any at all. She barely knew about her own self, Marsila wasn't sure how many animals she was able to form into. So far she couldn't only shift into three seperate beasts but wasn't sure if there were many to come. 

She continued to follow Rekkan past the guards and through the small streets until they reached a narrow alleyway. Her steps faltered when she heard him begin to chant, she attempted to decipher the tongue he spoke in. 

Fighting was the least of her worries. The animalistic side of her enjoyed fighting but Marsila could only hope it wouldn't escalate where she is forced to shift. That would have been difficult to give an explanation for. When he mentioned the possibility of her being murdered, Marsila simply shrugged her shoulders, not caring too much about his warning. Unless they had weapons made of silver, she would be fine. It didn't stop her from accepting the dagger and leaf from Rekkan though, she was grateful for anything that could possibly help. 

"Sounds like fun." It wasn't a sarcastic comment, the shifter was still excited from the last fight though it had only been a typical bar brawl like he had mentioned earlier. Marsila also assumed that it would be a group she was to fight rather than only a couple others. "So you found it?"
David
The words he chants are cryptic and old, mystical verses taught to deepen his understanding of the world and energies around him. Even he cannot perfectly translate them, though his is a raw perception. It is engraved in his core through trial, error and, without a great other explanation, gut feeling. Catalysts come in several ways to the shaman and shamanka scattered through this world and the next, his being melody brought to him by his mentor.

"I found a signature of a magical amulet. If it is your own, there is only one way to find out. We are going in uninvited, so I do not know what kind of reception awaits us." He explains, his feet already shuffling once more along the beaten path of the slums. Upon the derelict warehouse's side door, he uses his knuckles to knock on the door and awaits an answer. As it is to be expected, a voice on the other side demands a password that neither of them have. "Just our luck." The warrior says out loud, which makes the voice pause before sending them off with a curse to boot. "Fuck off!" That's not the most pleasant of things to say, so Rekkan thinks of no other way but to crash the party neither he or the shifter were invited to.

"So much for being polite." Is what he says before bringing his right leg up and using the sole of his foot to smash against the door and pry it open quite beastly like. It is sure to knock the guard off his feet and against the wall behind him, making both the front of his body and back be slammed and slam, in that order, by door and onto wall. Rekkan dashes in and drives that same side's knee to his head, concussion strike leaving the thug stunned. Lucky they are for not being another soul in this corridor, but the warrior imagines that a girl wrapped in red and a tower of a man will stick out like sore thumbs.

Rekkan is first to cross the corridor. At the end, he faces another door, this time taking his chance not with a knock, but with a push. When it is barred, he pulls. It opens with a creak to his surprise, granting him entrance to a most curious scene. Several stalls filled with fenced wares are lined up on the ground floor and the first, with the second reserved to some shadier characters. The warrior can sense the amulet glowing above, which makes things much harder than they already were. He turns his head just a slight to whisper to Marsila.

"At the top, that's the signature's origin. It won't be easy. I can see several guards." His eyes dart around to find a mix of costumers and guards, all armed with all sorts of weapons, melee and ranged. Even the damn traders have weapons. Such an unsavory bunch. They even have men standing by the stairs on each floor. Added henchmen by visiting higher ranks of criminal rings of town. To make a mess here is to make the underworld of this city angry. Rekkan can't help but crack a subtle smirk. What a challenge!
Joseph
"If the Prince is anything like himself, it could be. If he's not-" Angelica trailed off, and inhaled, straightening up a bit. "Just don't expect a lot of small talk. He's not really a talker at best, he prefers stories from what Anya has always told me." With that, she stepped out of his embrace, and straightened his collar. 

"Godspeed, Lord Stafford."
Edward
He nodded and hugged her one last time, "It's going to take some getting used to. I'll be back in a few days, try not to find someone who won't leave." He said, as a joke, obviously. He turnned and walked out to gather his things. He began packing up some items, collecting his sword and hammer then changing over into something less conspicuous. 

He donned his riding leathers and a dark green cloak and quickly headed out of the castle dowon to the stables. His saddle had already been prepared before he had even known where he was going. The saddlebag had basic provisions and two sleeping mats on it, he picked it up and placed it on his horse and began tying it down, pulling on it to test the ties, then mounted and with a pull of the reins and kick to te side the horse started at a gallop out of the castle and to the gates of Zahrada and toward Feyshore.
Leon
Marsila held her breath as they arrived in front of some warehouse doors. She watched the short interaction between the two men and couldn't help the anger rise in her chest. They had something that belonged to her yet refused to let them inside? She was thankful Rekkan was the one to knock the door down and to her amazement, he succeeded with only one kick. The way he acted once inside only further proved that she needed to place more trust in this man. 

Her steps were light compared to the large man as they rushed through the corridor, hoping they were coming closer to the Amulet's location. She acted like her life depended on this one piece of jewel.

Passing the second door, the scent of humans and other beings suddenly overwhelmed her, allowing her to realise the mess they would need to place themselves in. When Rekkan mentioned the amulet being on the top floor, Marsila rolled her eyes in annoyance. Of course it had to be the most difficult level reach, she couldn't understand why her necklace would be among the shadiest part of the Market. "What's the plan?" Her voice didn't hold an ounce of fear as she spoke, anger though, was evident.

There was a slight issue though when it came to this situation. Marsila was sure that some of the men would be murdered during their mission to find and steal back what was hers. When it came to humans, she preferred to knock them unconscious rather than murder them. The shifter assumed that once she murdered a human, there would be no turning back. That if she took a human's life, Marsila would become the beast she feared to be. "I'll make a scene first and force the archers to use up all their arrows." She began, noting that there were quite a few along the top floor facing towards the ground level. "Once they have run out, you focus on making your way to the second floor anywhere I will meet you." 

She assumed he didn't need to be told twice as he studied his face. It was like he had been hoping a fight would break out.
Joseph
Anya didn't protest him taking the lead. She felt like she could fall asleep on her feel, and when he finally just scooped beneath her knees to pick her up and put her into bed she relaxed against him. The sheets were fresh, and she was glad the staff had changed them while she was out of the room, knowing she'd undoubtedly left them soaked with sweat. Zane moved to the basin, and she let her eyes close until the dap rag hit her skin. She opened them, her eyes on the ceiling as he spoke. 

"I'm not looking for a thank you, Zane. You'd have done the same for me." She said simply. "And also you really should be resting, you're still going to need time to heal from that wound." Her hand reached over, placing on his for a moment before pulling back, not wanting to burn him. "Also, to be fair, I didn't _try_ anything. It just happened."
David
His ears twitch to her plan. It's not the best plan in the book, but what book are they reading anyway? Rekkan trusts she has an idea on how to draw the men's attention and gives her an okay signal as he starts to mingle, however hard that may be with his size. The only ones that are relatively the same height as the guy are some of the toughest looking guards or visitor's bodyguards. Either way, he doesn't mind the stares.

The guy makes his way to one of the staircases and is immediately barred by the men there. "Haven't seen your ugly mug around here before." Says one of them. "Who do you work for?" That's an odd question, at least for Rekkan. He is not the type to associate with crime lords, so it does make it hard to name one he has no clue about. Instead, he tries to circumvent this problem. "I'm a freelancer." The guy replies. "Newly arrived."

Just like before with the doorman, his answer provokes restlessness in the guard. The way Rekkan sees it, these men have such a tightly ran deal that you do have to meet a big shark to know this place and be granted entry to it. You need a "Rep", something the warrior does not have, not in this underworld at least.

By this time, the girl must be starting her thing, which buys Rekkan time to do his own. This is to be the first out of himself and the alerted guard to throw a punch, a right hook brought from the right flank of his body and aimed at the man's jaw. His upper body rotates left in the course of the swing, along with a sharp twist of his right foot on the ground. The weight of his mass is carried by the attack, not only dislocating the mouth's bone but shooting the man down and in a spin to a hard landing on the ground. His colleague's eyes widen in surprise as he fumbles to grip his spear, but by then he is also receiving his own present, an accurate left hook that sends him onto the floor.

Rekkan moves up the flight of stairs to the first floor, right and left hand held in front of him with fingers stretched. As his legs skip multiple steps of the stairs in his rush, magic swirls in between his palms and a blinding light flashes before the eyes of the guards that gather at the top. They are forced to close their eyes in the revelation of Furasshu, an odd sword with a curved blade at a round guard, its blade is kept inside a hard casing of leather, black. The warrior jerks the blade forward while holding the sheathe, slinging the blunt edge of. The hilt to impact against one's forehead. As he is knocked back and down, Rekkan wields the sheathe in his left hand and strikes his companion atop the head, then quickly around it to make a sideways attack to the temple. These actions are swift, just as the capture of the drawn sword by the base of the blade. Without fear of being cut by his own sharp weapon, the warrior finishes the knocked down man, swinging the blunt hilt to hit his head again. If anything, the guy is trying not to be a murderous freak, but the situation may change.
Miguel
"You're right, I would have." He replied, continuing to run the rag over her forearms. "Although, I've had little sleep or rest as it is, I'm thinking my body is just getting used to it." He rolled his shoulders at that, and bit down a small hiss as his right moved.

He quieted after that, just letting his body move the rag. He moved a bit further onto the bed, just behind her head, and after moving her head onto his crossed legs, he moved the rag towards her shoulders. "It's just worrying to know that things like that could happen, and neither me nor Angelica will be there to help you." He admitted, still moving the rag over her arms.
Leon
The moment Rekkan left to mingle in with the crowd, Marsila avoided all the humans as she ran off to her left. She used all the wooden crates and beams that have been stacked to her advantage, keeping herself hidden so she was free to shift without any distractions. 

Before shifting, Marsila made sure to stop the cloak from her back and folded it under the bottom crate so it was concealed from wondering eyes before adding the clothes she stripped from her body. To be safe, her fingers wrapped around a wooden sheet that had been left on the floor to gather dust and dirt and tilted it over the bottom crate. 

Once she was assured no one would be able to place their thieving fingers on the clothes, the shifter kneeled against the ground before placing her hands down so she was on her hands and knees. Taking a deep breath, Marsila thought of one of her panther form as it was the quickest and least painful for her to shift into. Without a passing second, an audible pop could be heard followed by a sharp pain in her shoulder as the bone dislocated itself from the joint before the rest of her body followed. As the bones began to break soon after which allowed them to form a new skeletal structure, charcoal fur sprouted from Marsila's skin. What felt like hours had only been a few minutes until the shifter was laying against the floor in her feline form.

After gaining her energy back, Marsila stood herself up with little difficulty and her body felt like all the bones in her body hadn't been broken. Remembering the task at hand, the shifter took a deep intake of breath before releasing a ferocious snarl. Marsila ran from behind the crates and lunged herself into the crowd, throwing anyone who blocked her path to the side with her head. 

Screams could be heard as the large feline ran through the market ground, occasionally tearing her fangs into a limb so she was able to put on more of a show if her size wasn't enough to gather the guard's immediate attention. When the first arrow had been shot, it missed the big cat by an inch but was affective in forcing all the humans to run to any exit they could find, leaving Marsila in plain sight. Many arrows found their way into her body whilst she ran in unpredictable paths but the shifter wasn't as attentive to the pain or wounds as adrenaline had taken over.
Joseph
She lifted her head when he indicated to do so, and settled back down into the fold of his legs. Her neck fit perfectly where his calves crossed, and she let out a tired sigh as he continued to move the cool rag over her skin. "Things like this will happen until I find a way to control them. Marcus is looking into it as well, to see what he can find out, but I think It's a problem for those magically inclined to handle." She murmured, her voice soft and even as she spoke. 

"That's why I want Dayveth to come with me though, having a doctor at my side at all times will help. I'm sure whatever we find isn't going to be easy for myself or for Mikhail." One eye opened, and she looked up at him with a small smile. "I trust him, Zane. You don't need to worry any more than you usually do. I know you're going to send your agents to follow us, but make sure they keep their distance. I don't want this being compromised."
Miguel
"Nero's an idiot, but you don't have to worry to much about him too much, Seras and Jeanne know how to keep him out of trouble." A small smile grew on his own face as he said this. "At least, most of the time."

"I'll make sure they're under strict orders to not interfere, unless things go to shit, then they're going to get you all out, and I'm not taking a no on that." His smile persisted at that, as he thought about the four going with them. Even if he wasn't mentioned, Harrell could physically restrain Nero, if the man decided to act too soon.

"Although, I'm still going to worry, and there isn't too much you can do about that."
David
Much to Rekkan's expectations, the bait is revealed and the snarls of the feline transformation makes his ears tingle. Oblivious to his own interactions through the medium into Marsila's dream, he now understands what she is, a shapeshifter. He doesn't let his surprise, or admiration for the feline's swiftness take over him. Instead, the warrior focuses in bringing down the archers that are lining up on the edge of the first and second floor.

 Seeing the female take the brunt of attention and get shot multiple times has Rekkan reacting with a swifter motion to his actions. Swifter and deadly. While the girl is holding back, in a sense, she is being targeted to kill. Thus, the man will apply that same rule to her attackers.

The curved blade begins its dance joined by the ruthless man. He dashes across the first floor with eight hand swinging forward, horizontal after horizontal cutting through flesh and bone as blood spurts from neck, from armpit and the flank of the torso. They fall like domino pieces in their blind assessment of the situation, only for the other side to finally give attention and redirect their focus.

Little else than the heads at the top and their force are inside the warehouse now. They watch, dark figures from above, getting more and more restless. They watch Rekkan raise his left hand and aim an open palm at the other side of the floor, shooting a ball of fire that fans out and coats three or four men in bitter flames. "Kill the bastards!" Says an older man, pointing at them frantically.

Rekkan storms up the last flight of stairs and cuts a guard, severing half of his waistline. Gory, guts spill to dangle from his side as he collapses. But the wanderer is no superweapon. When beset by the elite of the guards, he tries to retreat strategically, but he wasn't counting on another with heightened skills. A slash rips cloth and makes his chest bleed, followed by a kick that pushes him against the wooden edge and break it, being knocked down to the ground floor. It's a hard fall. He grunts and grits his teeth. "Motherfucker...!!"