John
Chapter 1: The Bell tolls for Ye

"Watch out!" A watcher called seconds before a ballista streaked overhead, slamming into the corner support of a storied building, causing a large portion to crumble down and succumb to gravity. A handful of screams started from inside before quickly being silenced by the stones in more ways than one.

"Keep pushing! Do not falter!" Duque Martin Dechado de Milia-Perez shouted. He was at the head of a scattered column of his own Provincial Guards on the street below, dressed in a steel cuirass and wielding his custom hand crossbow in one hand, a Feyshorian Rapier in the other. He raised the blade skyward, then slashed towards their target down the street. The Lowtown Black Bats had made a push up Quarrel's Crossing with iron sided wagons, and were now forming a barricade in the streets as their first checkpoint. Martin had hoped to push them out before they could do any damage, but the ballista they set up was a grim omen. Fights between families was a daily occurrence, but they very rarely ended in fatal casualties, and only in extreme cases. The fact there was a siege weapon here taking so many lives with each bolt, showed both serious resolve, and extreme desperation. The Black Bats suffered some great losses some months back, but Martin assumed their anger would be directed at the True Provincials of Duchy Row, who abandoned them mid-conflict, yet here they were, launching yet another attack against him personally.
*** ***

His soldiers rallied behind him, reforming their lines as best they could behind their Duque. A call of "For Her Majesty! For Adelesia!" Flowed through the ranks, and they moved up the street in loose formation. There were six iron wagons forming a makeshift wall at the end of the street that cut off a section of the entrance into Hightown, just enough for a small staging area behind. The Ballista was on the roof of a low building next to the barricade that had been taken over, many Black Bats moving through the house in defense. The Provincial Soldiers pushed forward, scattering to cover every few feet to brace for a Ballista Bolt that never shot at them. The siege engine was focusing down the wagons behind the troupe, trying to prevent the tide of reinforcements from overwhelming their checkpoint, keeping it at a trickle. It didn't matter to Martin, he had more than a dozen trained soldiers behind him, they just needed to get past the wagon wall.
*** ***

Relief came unexpectedly. On top of the roof adjacent to the Ballista, unseen to the soldiers on the street, Jasmine de Milia, Martin's first cousin, and trusted companion in many battles hoisted herself up with the help of a hooked rope. Shortly after, the lieutenants of the Milia Bruisers came up as well. Ricardo de Milia, Fontaine de Florecer, and Amelia de Milia, all wielding swords and crossbows, set their sights on the ballista team. There were 3 people in the operating crew with no guards on the roof, all focus being on the soldiers charging the barricade. The Bruisers fired four bolts at the crew, hitting two of them and killing one. The two remaining turned and drew their own weapons, a club and dagger respectively. The four Bruisers quickly overwhelmed them, pinning their arms and quickly dispatching their lifeblood onto the wooden roof. Jasmine gestured to her family members, and pointed at Ricardo to watch the trap door. Ricardo slid his blade into the latch as a makeshift lock, and sat on the door with his full weight, while the other three took up positions at the siege weapon.

The first bolt fired at the barricade didn't do much besides scare the Black Bats behind it, slamming into one end of a wagon, causing the other to jolt into the sky briefly before slamming back down. Both sides of the conflict paused to look at the siege weapon, until the second bolt struck, destroying the iron wagon it hit before, splintering it into many small pieces and two large ones. Martin couldn't help but laugh in surprise, gesturing to his followers, and pointing to the new gap made, he said:

"Charge forward! Plug that hole!"

"For the Duque! For Adelesia!" Came the reply as they all charged forth.
*** ***

The Black Bats had makeshift shields, simply pieces of sea-hardened wood strapped together on a single arm, and they formed a makeshift wall in the gap. The Provincial Soldiers met them at full charge with the Duque at the front. The fighting quickly devolved, only one side truly trained in line warfare properly. The wall of wooden shields was pushed back and the line broken. Martin was in the middle of it all, firing his crossbow at the beginning, and then using it as a makeshift tonfa in his left hand while he unleashed a flurry of stabs with his rapier. He could feel a presence at his back as he carved his way through, unsure who exactly it was but comfortable he only had to focus forward. However there was no sign of a captain behind the wall.

Isabella de Guerrero was watching from inside the building they were hoping to use as a command post after this push. She took a minute to fully assess where she stood. The trap door to the roof was barred shut, her men trying to get through but with no luck, and the false Duque was right outside her front door, the only weapon they had preventing his reinforcement wagons from advancing seemingly turned on her own men. Isabella was trapped.

"Aunt Isabella? Your orders?" One of her nephew's from the D'Ortiz asked with wide, searching eyes.

Their last raid went terribly, this was supposed to be the de Guerrero's chance to reclaim their honor after her brother Sebastian failed to stop the plague victims from escaping Hightown. Failure wasn't an option, no matter what.

"I can't return as a failure," She told her nephew, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Honor in Victory, or Honor in Death."

There was a moment of shock, then silent contemplation from her nephew, followed by acceptance.

"Yes, Ma'am." He said, hoisting his crossbow.

"Take them!"

"Do not falter!"

"Die, Provincial Dogs!"

"Keep pressure on them!"

"Alive! We want them Alive!"
*** ***

The mini battlefield was rich with voices calling out to, and against each other. Insults, commands, screams of pain, curses, and calls for anyone to help ranging from mother's to friends all mixed together in a din of battle. The Provincial Soldiers and Milia Bruisers were making progress, incapacitating many Black Bats, and killing even more. The destruction of the siege tower and deaths of those inside escalated this fight to something personal, this wasn't a normal street brawl. Martin, still searching for the Captain of the Black Bats, who he assumed he would recognize, found himself brawling with a young lady from the D'Ortiz. She had great form with her saber, and was holding her own against the Duque. He pressed his attack, trying to get close enough to strike with his pommel and hopefully incapacitate the young woman. He stabbed furiously, doing his best to maintain form in the heat of battle despite the chaos around him. Martin drew closer, managing to knock her blade aside. He grabbed her by the collar of her armor before she could withdraw, and readied his sword to pierce her throat.

***Pang***

The sound of a bell on the southern side of the city broke through everything.

***Pang***

The fighters all stopped, and looked to the sky.

***Pang***

Martin's grip on his sword began to slack, the wielder holding his breath, hoping three bells was all he'd hear.

***Pang***

Devastation. Weapons fell to the streets, one man began to panic, and somewhere a baby began to cry. Martin steeled himself for the moment, and looked at the Black Bats.

"I hereby drop all charges for this day. Return to your master immediately. Araedia is under attack, so I call a meeting of the Families and their Contes, tomorrow at Dawn in the Commerce Building." Everyone stopped to process what he just said, and Martin turned his back to walk back to his home in silence.
Loretta
Levi Cortez
Araedia

Levi was confused. In fact, he had been confused ever since he met the short man. Everything the man said twisted knots into Levi's brain until there was little room for anything to go through. At this point, all Levi could do is stare blankly at the bowl of stew sitting in front of him. 

"Eat before it gets cold!" Arin smiled, taking a bite of his own stew before tearing off a piece of the bread that had come with each bowl. 

"Thank you. For the stew, of course." Levi nodded, a small show of respect for the two gentlemen. He took the small spoon and blew on the warm broth. There were chunks of meat and vegetables, yet when he took a mouthful he could taste the savory herbs and spices that went into it. It was like nothing he had ever tasted before. It was like he could even taste the hard work that had gone into the bowl. 

His excitement got the better of him. He was eating spoonfuls like they were breaths, and before he knew it he was finishing the last bite and cleaning his bowl with his own bread. Arin's eyes were wide as he watched, and Levi looked up sheepishly. 

"I.. It.. It was incredible. I do not even know what to say except to thank the people who made such a meal." He said as Arin raised an eyebrow. 

"It was nothing more than stew. I've had better meals inside of the bellies of ships before." He said, before Levi shook his head. 

"If there is better than that I must try it. I cannot believe it until I see it... Until I have tasted it." Levi said, before something caught his eye. All of a sudden, a small crash could be heard coming from the kitchen. Levi winced, before looking at Vik. 


"I must be going insane." He said quietly.
John
Tiny Vik
Delekou, Araedia

"What would be so wrong with going insane?" Vik giggled, leaning forward and whispering, "I'll tell you a secret: All the best people are."

He perked up, and glanced at his wrist as if something was there.

"*Mrau*." Said Tiddlywinks, hopping down from the rafters.

"Quite right, my friend, It's just about that time." He looked to Arin and Levi individually. "Gentlemen, I'm afraid our time together draws to a close. Is there anything I can do for either of you before we must fare each other well?"