The night was cold, wet, and dreary.

Xanadu pushed up the collar of her heavy coat and pulled down the brim of the cap that hid her hair and most of her face. Even with the wool lining she had sewn into the clothing she had acquired a few days earlier, she was still quite chilly. I will never get used to the weather here, she thought morosely.

The petite Mugrobi moved silently through the streets of Vienda, heading for the location where she had been told she would meet a member of the resistance. She wished she had more information on this assignment than just a date, time and place. As it was, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. Perhaps that was the point … this would be a test of loyalty, and of her suitability to be a resistance operative. She was determined to make a good impression, but she was unwilling to compromise her own morals, however dubious those might be. What if they ask me to kill an innocent person? I will have to refuse, and then what? Will they just allow me to walk away, or will they consider that I already know enough about them to be a threat?

She knew so little about them. This wasn't like a bounty hunting job where she could research her target and his habits before hunting him down. With the resistance, she was literally walking into the unknown, and the thought did not please her. It didn't exactly displease her, either. She found herself both looking forward to and dreading the challenge before her. It had been nearly a month since she had last worked as a mercenary. She found that she missed both the thrill and the danger of her profession. Idly, she wondered if it was possible for her to become an honest, upstanding citizen of Vienda, even if she wanted to. She needed adventure, excitement, intrigue … and an occasional down and dirty fight. It was simply part of who she was.

As she approached her destination, Xanadu wondered if it would take them long to recognize her, as she looked nothing like she had a few nights ago. After the negative comments her standard mercenary attire had received, she had decided to go a different route tonight. The clothing she wore was old and drab, no different than what most humans were wearing. With the wool lining and her long thick hair braided and tucked into her shirt, she looked bulkier than she actually was. It was also impossible to tell that she was a woman with the thick coat hiding her feminine attributes. Although she was far too short to be mistaken for a man, she could easily pass for one of the urchins who lived on the street … if it wasn't for the double-bladed sword strapped to her back.

The rest of her weapons were well hidden. Her knife belt and snake venom necklace were concealed by the coat, and two extra daggers rested in the special pockets she had sewn into it. Two more daggers were tucked into her boots. The venom-filled earrings were barely visible, as was the matching bracelet the jeweler at the festival had surprised her with when she had commissioned extra darts at the festival. She had not been able to disguise the sword, not if she wanted it to be easily accessible. It would probably be this that identified her to the freedom fighter sent to collect her. She also had the paper that the woman had given her that specified this particular time and place. That should be enough to prove who she was, although if they were any good at spying, they probably already knew her name and where she lived. She wouldn't even be surprised if they knew the false names she worked under. A mercenary of her description would not be hard to trace.

The petite woman glanced around her now, wondering if she was being observed, if they were waiting for her. Spotting anything out of the ordinary could often mean the difference between life and death in her line of work, and she was pretty good at detecting watchers and those with nefarious designs. At the moment she saw nothing unusual … just people going about their normal lives … so either the operatives she was to meet had not yet arrived or they were very, very good at avoiding detection. She rather assumed the latter. And that was as it should be. It meant they were professionals.

Instinctively assuming the nonchalant, slightly bored, and highly confident demeanor she used while working, Xanadu waited.

The night was quiet but for the rain. It seemed to hiss quietly against the paving stones, making the ground slippery and hard to walk on. Xanadu couldn't hear anyone approaching, not for quite some time. When she did, she first heard the person's shoes, tapping on the ground. The sound was loud compared to the previous near-silence.

Then she felt the field.

Emmanuel Cavendish was quite a young man and actually quite fresh to the resistance. He wasn't entirely sure of his reasoning or of his place within the organisation but he was sure that he wanted to help. After all that he had seen, all that he had lived through, he could no longer support the system that he had been born into. He was not perfectly enlightened, nor was he sure that the people he was aiding were either.

He could not see Xanadu well, since it was dark out and the lamps weren't too close to her. He knew that he was meeting a woman but not her name or age or anything else about her. He wasn't sure that the heavy, coated shape before him fit the bill. He glanced about.

"Ah, hello there, I'm here to meet with a friend." Xanadu's note had mentioned the catch phrase he would be using. "I think we should get out of the rain."

He smiled and Amani could see that he was young, younger than her and fresh-faced and bushy-tailed. His eyes looked to be brown in the dark and his features were smooth and aristocratic. He was a perfect example of good, galdori breeding.

The blood drained from Xanadu's face as the galdor approached her. She had been told that some of them were members of the resistance, but she had no idea she was going to be forced into one's company so soon. It would have been nice if she could have become accustomed to the idea first, but apparently she was to be denied that luxury. Unconsciously, her hands moved into the hollowed-out pockets of her coat, closing around the hilts of two of her knives.



The mercenary studied the young man standing in front of her, keeping her own face as hidden as possible. He looked harmless enough … but he was galdori, and all of Xanadu's encounters with galdori had been unpleasant if not horrific. Can I do this? Can I work with the race that brutally murdered my precious little girl?

It looked as if she didn't have much of a choice. Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, she looked into his eyes, her own dark eyes, despite her best intentions, glittering with distrust. “I would love to be dry and warm again,” she said, attempting to keep her voice neutral. “Lead on.”

Emmanuel nodded, waving for Xanadu to follow him as he walked out of the open air. He immediately made for an alley. He was taller than Xanadu, though not by much and only slightly less lithe. He moved quickly, though not with an air of haste.

"I was surprised they sent someone so quickly." He said, taking care not to whisper, so his voice wouldn't carry. "I've been worried for their safety, I think I've seen men loitering around my estate."

He led her down and around, through another series of winding alleys that Xanadu was surely getting tired of by now. Seemed to be a Resistance thing. Training through side-street navigation.

"How much did they tell you?" He asked, stopping in front of a carriage. He opened the door for her. A human was driving it, looking bored but gaining some surprise when he saw Xanadu's sword.

"Shit, when they help, they help, huh?" The man asked. It was difficult to make out his features in the rain, he had a hood up.

Although the trek through the alleys was definitely annoying, Xanadu was thankful that she could easily keep up with the young galdor's stride. This gave her time to study her surroundings, to commit the unique aspects of each alley, of each twist and turn, to her nearly infallible memory. It was a bit difficult to pick out details in the dark and one alley looked much like another to one not accustomed to life in a city. She did the best she could, and with any luck, the man wouldn't dump her off in the middle of nowhere once the mission was complete. She couldn't count on that, though. He was a golly, and gollies were unpredictable.



His words were cryptic. Her best guess was that he was hiding a group of people that needed moving to someplace safe. If she was right, it would be the perfect test of loyalty for a bounty hunter if these people had prices on their heads. The resistance might think she would be tempted to turn them in for the reward rather than carrying out whatever orders they had for her. It was a good thing she didn't need the money or it would be a difficult decision to make.



Xanadu hated carriages. Not only were they small and confining, but they reminded her too much of Glorie's death. At least this one was being driven by a human. She acknowledged the hooded man with a nod. If he didn't expect to see someone with a sword, then apparently this mission will not be very dangerous. The notion both cheered and disappointed her.

“I have been told nothing,” she said, as she stepped into the carriage and sat down. It was nice to be dry again, and if her wet clothing ruined the carriage's upholstery, then so much the better. “Please tell me where we are going and what I will be expected to do.”

Emmanuel shook his head, looking somewhat repentant. His brows drew up slightly, making him resemble a slightly wet and sorry puppy. The inside of the carriage was lit and nicely upholstered. It was clear that Emmanuel wasn't on the highest tier of galdori society but he was of the monied class. Xanadu could now see that Emmanuel's eyes were golden, a bright, true colour. His face was open and his smile friendly.

"I'm very sorry, we're going to visit my home, though not straight away. I need to make sure we're not being followed." Emmanuel poked his head out the front sliding-window of the carriage. "Neil, we're ready to go."

Xanadu heard a muffled agreement, then Emmanuel closed the window again. The carriage began to move, without great speed. They were clearly playing things as casually as they could.

"I need your help, to make sure that they haven't been discovered." Emmanual continued, turning back to Xanadu. "I've been trying to get writs for everyone but it's not easy to forge the signatures and get the right materials without being noticed."

This seemed to imply that Emmanuel was a clerk.

"Ever since the ban was enforced, I've been helping out some people. Not all of them had the paperwork they needed when the repeal came." His voice seemed thicker. "I saw some men in my back garden yesterday. I saw them off but there could be a chance they saw something, Sherin went outside... I need to make sure that none of us have been compromised."

His voice was appropriately sincere, his eyes soulful and pleading. He seemed to believe that things could go very poorly indeed.

His explanation was too vague. She supposed he was hiding some wicks, but he had not been clear who was after them and what her role would be. Guard? Spy? Or was she to masquerade as one of them and keep them safe from the inside? If so, it was a good thing she spoke tek, although the fact that she had no field would certainly give her away.

Xanadu sighed. “I will need more information than that,” she said. He seemed like a nice young man and his golden eyes were the same bright shade as Glorie's had been. She wanted to like him, but that was a bit too much to ask at this point. Strong beliefs didn't change overnight.

“Please tell me everything you know about the situation, starting at the very beginning and ending with what you wish me to do." If she came across as a bit abrupt and overbearing, it couldn't be helped. She didn't intend on going into this blind, especially as it seemed her that the man believed they might run into trouble.

"Don't leave anything out, no matter how unimportant you might believe it to be. It is surprising how often a small tidbit of information comes in handy. I need to be fully informed if you expect me to help.”

Emmanuel blinked in surprise, this was clearly not the response he was expecting.

"But..." He said, looking confused, his lips turning down slightly. "You are a professional, aren't you? I thought you'd know what to do."

He leant back against his seat and shook his head again, it almost seemed like a nervous tick. His fingers began to tap restlessly against his knee.

"I can't tell you everything. I was told to keep things as quiet as possible. I have a duty to the... people I'm protecting. There are men visiting my house. I need to know if they mean ill. I can tell you what they look like?"

He seemed quite unsure of what to do, though quite adamant that he was not going to reveal more about his houseguests. For whatever reason, his pride, his morals, he did not want to. His head seemed to moving from side to side on its own now.

"They haven't approached the main house yet. They look human but from the distance they were at, who knows. I was too far to sense their fields." That meant they'd been keeping a decent distance away, Emmanuel's field was not a small one, though he probably still had some growth yet in him.

Xanadu closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before opening them again. “Even professionals need to know what they're getting into if they are going to be of any use. If I wasn't on your side, I wouldn't be here, you know. Anything you tell me will go no further.”

She knew he didn't trust her any more than she trusted him, and perhaps that was how it should be. Her voice softened a bit, trying to put him at ease. “Just tell me what you feel comfortable with. If I am expected to deal with these men, I need to know as much about them as possible. And I might need different clothing, depending on what I decide to do.” She smiled wryly. “I am afraid I will stand out in your part of Vienda dressed like a street child with a sword on my back.”

It was clear from Emmanuel's now puzzled expression that he did not feel particularly trusting of Xanadu. His body language was beginning to close off, his arms were folded and he had begun to draw away from Xanadu. Her gentle voice had done nothing to relax him. His lips had thinned and his eyes had narrowed. It seemed he thought she was trying to mine him for information.

It was obvious now that he was harbouring fugitives, presumably wicks since he had mentioned writs. It was not unusual for people who ran safe houses to play it close to the chest. Asking for information had only served to agitate him.

"Of course you'll stick out, I mean..." His hands extended first towards her sword and then the large cloak she was wearing. "I thought you were trained for these sorts of things. Bad men are trying to hurt people and you stop them... Without anyone knowing or informing and getting my house raided. I don't know what to do, I'm nobody!"

He slumped back, a hand carding nervously through his hair.

"There were three of them, all Anaxi, all dark-haired. One of them had a ponytail, the others had theirs cropped short. They were wearing old shirts that had been patched a few times, couldn't see any weapons or tattoos. It was hard to tell from a distance. They could have been related for all I know, they run off whenever I catch a glimpse of them."

Emmanuel's foot was tapping against the wooden floor of the carriage. He did not seem to care for the implied threat.

It wasn't much, but she thought she could work with the information he'd given her. Since the men seemed to be dressed in similar fashion, her clothing probably wouldn't be a problem. As she did not like the feel of wool against her bare skin, she wore a black bodysuit beneath her clothes; she could use that if necessary. The sword … she would have to think about that one.

“Thank you,” she said. “I believe you have told me enough. I should be able to find out why these men are prowling about your property, and I can probably run them off, but I won't be able to stop them from coming back. And that's a good thing. If they do mean your guests harm, they are most likely part of a larger organization. If they do not report back to their superiors, others will be sent in their place, and they will be a lot more malicious than the three who are plaguing you now. If I believe this to be the case, I will try to discover who it is they work for, although I would guess that they have only been given a specific task, and have not even received as much information about their employer as you have given me about yourself. I am rather a specialist at infiltrating nefarious organizations. I can most likely get myself accepted into their ranks and eventually bring them down, but I can't do that in one night and that is not why I am here.”

Xanadu paused for a moment and closed her eyes, thinking of the best way to proceed. He would have to take her to his estate in order for her to know which one was his. Stepping out of a galdori carriage would look suspicious and would hurt her chances of gaining the trust of her targets. No, no, she could work with that. The idea that formed in her mind made her smile. He wasn't going to like the implications of what she planned to do, and that made her smile even more.

“Now,” she said, looking him directly in the eye. “Do you know where these men are usually lurking and can you stop the carriage there? I need you to let me out where they are likely to see me, but do not open the door until I tell you I am ready. I also need to know who to get in touch with once I have completed my task."

The carriage eventually slowed to a halt but when it did, it was not outside. Neil knocked on the front window before Emmanuel had a chance to reply to Xanadu. Emmanuel opened it immediately.

"Are we home?" He asked, trying to see out into the dark.

"Yes, I'll get the lamps going." Neil replied, disappearing. Emmanuel closed the window again.

"Unfortunately I can't drive you out, there are no roads wide enough for a carriage on that part of the property. I can always loan you something as a disguise." He offered, opening the carriage door and looking out.

There were a few oil lamps around, not enough to fully luminate the room they were in. It seemed to be barn or a ridiculously large stable. The horses were whickering quietly, as though keen to be free of their harnesses and bridles.

"It's too dark to see well now but they will be back in a few hours. I always see signs they've been there, if I go for a walk in the morning. I think they watch the house at night." Emmanuel stepped out as Neil returned, holding a lamp. "I don't want them to know someone other than me is watching, if I showed you where, would you be able to find them in the rain? They don't seem to be quiet fellows. I'm always finding cigarette ends."

Neil looked at Emmanuel, then out towards the entrance of the stable. It seemed that both of them were worried and unsure of what to do. His hands were clenched around the lamp's handle.

Ahhh well. So much for that plan.

Xanadu realized once again how much she did not know about this city she found herself in. She had imagined the galdor's estate consisted of a mansion and a well-manicured lawn encircling it. Apparently it was quite a bit larger. The mercenary had envisioned the intruders prowling close to the house, perhaps peering into the windows. If they were staying on the outskirts of the property, that was a good sign that they weren't as dangerous as her companion seemed to think. She couldn't count on that, though. She had been wrong before.



Xanadu stepped out of the carriage after Emmanuel. Curious, she gave the stable a cursory glance before returning her attention to the young galdor. “If they're out there, I'll find them, rain or no rain.” She wasn't really fond of working in the rain, but she'd done it many times before. She remembered the last time well … it had been during a fierce storm, and lightening had illuminated the determined expression on her opponent's face as she tried to pry his hands from around her throat. They'd fallen in the mud and his grip had loosened, allowing her to draw a knife and kill him. She had only received a portion of the posted reward for bringing him back dead.

“I don't believe I'll need a disguise. From your description, it seems they are dressed much like me. I could use a waterproof coat or an umbrella if you expect me to wait hours out there until they show up.” She didn't mind the waiting. When she was tracking, Xanadu had the patience of a cat. She just didn't want to spend that time soaked to the skin. “Or is there a shed or some other shelter I can use?”

"Not entirely like you..." Neil said, again looking at the sword she was carrying. "The property is fairly out of the way. If they see you they'll probably know we have something to do with it. You're no golly, I'd wonder what you were doing out there."

Emmanuel seemed to be too worried to say anything. He was already heading towards the back of the stable, pulling a coat from the wall. From a distance Xana could tell that it was too large for her. Most workers were bigger than she was after all, it was likely that Emmanuel didn't even need a sturdy, waterproof coat.

"There's this?" He said, handing it towards her.

Behind him, a small face peeked out from behind a door. In the dark the most you could see was that the face belonged to a child, with braided hair. Neil turned to look at her and the door closed.

"They're usually out North, near the boundary fence. It's stone, you can't miss it." Neil said.

“Let me worry about that,” Xanadu said, taking the coat from Emmanuel. She didn't miss the little face in the doorway. So he was hiding children? What was this daft golly thinking? Children did not need to be hidden away inside a building. They needed fresh air and space to run, to play, to laugh, to shout. They needed space to be children, and that was difficult when you were shut away. She wanted to say something about it, but Emmanuel had already made it perfectly clear that his affairs were none of her business. She had other things to think about anyway.

The coat was heavy and long. It reached nearly to her ankles. The sleeves had to be rolled up several times. But it was warm, it covered her sword, and the hood would hide her face. She would just have to shed it before she did any tumbling. Of course, if she had to confront the intruders, she would shed it before she allowed them to see her. She had noticed very few humans wearing waterproof clothing, and certainly none that were wearing coats that were far too large for them.



“I should be able to find it, but is there any place I can hide when I get there? If you are so adamant about me not being seen, I do need somewhere to conceal my presence. Hiding in plain sight is difficult enough in a crowd; it is impossible in wide open spaces.”

Her dark fathomless eyes lit on Emmanuel. “Or do you plan on casting a spell of invisibility on me?”

The mercenary didn't plan on allowing him to cast any kind of spell on her. She didn't even know if there was an invisibility spell. The only ones she had been hit with were rather vicious ... meant to harm, not help. She simply wanted them to know that she couldn't work miracles. If there was no place to hide, how would she avoid being seen?

"It wouldn't last while you were out of my... sight..." Emmanuel said, fading away as he saw the glare that was not fixed on Neil's face. "I think I need to go check on the little people."

Emmanuel flitted away, disappearing behind the door Xanadu had seen a child behind. Neil didn't move an inch. He regarded Xanadu quietly before speaking.

"I didn't realise the party had sent us a rookie. I'd been led to believe they were sending someone that was comfortable with subterfuge." His tone was sharp, like piece of stone with a hard edge. "We don't need someone who requires a spell to hide from the cheapest spies money can buy. An umbrella. Alioe."

He ran a hand through his hair, which looked like it might have been thinning at the front. Now that he was closer, Xanadu could make out the lines on his face. They didn't seem to be from laughter.

"You're not going. Stay here and keep a look out for seventen. I'll handle it." He said shortly. "Don't open the door, don't go in, knock if you see anyone in a uniform approaching."

He turned away from Xana, ready to walk into the night but not gone yet.

In what looked like one graceful, fluid motion, Xanadu spun around Neil and blocked the stable's entrance. A dagger appeared in her hand almost like magic, and she flipped it casually from hand to hand, occasionally catching it behind her back before tossing it up in the air again.

Her eyes, a hard glittering onyx, bored into his. “I don't fucking think so,” she hissed.

The mercenary realized that somewhere along the way, she had lost control of the situation. She did not like working for a galdor or being thrust in the middle of gollyville. She did not like working blind. She'd done it before, but it had been on more familiar territory. Every job was different, but most of them were straightforward, not cloaked in secrecy. It looks as if the resistance has a rather unique way of doing business. If I want to be part of them, I guess I need to get used to it.

Yes, she'd lost control of the situation, but now it was time to take it back.

“If you go bounding out there like a madman, what's that going to solve?” Her voice was now soft, almost friendly. “They'll know you're on to them, and then where will you be? Dead, most likely. No, I'm better out there than you are. I'm new to this city and accustomed to a different way of doing business. But I adjust quickly.”

The knife continued to flip … up, down, left, right, back, front ...

“I was not serious about the spell. I wouldn't let a golly cast a spell on me if my life depended on it.” Well, maybe if my life depended on it. “As for my request for a coat or umbrella to keep me dry, your … employer … is asking me to wait several hours for these men to show up. I have to take care of my blades. I don't wish them to rust. My blades are my livelihood, and replacing them would be too expensive for me right now."

Xanadu gave the dagger one last flip and caught it, holding the blade downward. She wasn't ready to sheath it quite yet. “Please … I am not the enemy here. Let us work together on this. Once I get the information you need, how do you wish me to get it to you? I believe that is all I need to know before I am ready to go.”

((Xana, you're assuming you blocked him, which is godmoding. You can try to block him but a mod has to determine the action. For now, here's the reply.
http://thornsbook.com/wiki/pmwiki.php?n ... ogy#godmod))

"A real assassin works in the rain." He spat. "I know how to hide, little girl. I'm not here to tell you how to do your job, it just seems that I'll have to do it for you. I'm not wasting time writing you a guide on how to do it."

He strode past her, out into the rain. Xana didn't have time to catch him before he was gone, traceless.

Xanadu looked after Neil thoughtfully, tossing the knife into the air again, and following it with a second and then a third. Juggling always calmed her and helped her think.

Assassin? Was that what she'd been brought here for? Xanadu shook her head. She wasn't an assassin. She did not take life lightly. Those men might be perfectly harmless. Had the idea that they may be relatives of the children Emmanuel was harboring ever crossed his mind? If they did have dangerous intentions, why were they staying on the edge of the property? It didn't make a lot of sense, unless she was correct that they were part of a larger organization. If that was the case, then killing them was just going to make things worse. At least they wouldn't be able to blame her for it.

She was much better at spying than she was at killing. In most cases, before she turned her target in, she would ingratiate herself into his life, get him to trust her, and find out as much about his activities as she could, including whether he was employed by someone else. Often, usually with a bit of help, she was able to close down entire criminal organizations this way. She used her brain as a weapon as often as she used her sword.

If she had gone after the intruders, she would have been more likely to make up a story to explain her presence and talk to them, trying to find out their intent by pretending she was on their side. If she didn't believe they would welcome a stranger into their midst, she might have incapacitated them with her snake venom, tied them up, and interrogated them after the paralysis subsided. She would not have killed them unless her own life was in danger or she believed they were an immediate threat to the children.

Xanadu only killed when there was no other choice. She was paid more when she brought her targets in alive.

Sheathing the three daggers, the mugrobi shrugged out of the heavy waterproof coat. Perhaps everything had turned out for the best. Guard duty was a better choice for her than mindless assassination, although she would like to go after Neil to ensure he didn't make a mess of things. Unstrapping her sword, she hid it away close to the door. It would be easy to retrieve if she needed it, and it wouldn't draw any extra attention to her if she should run into any seventen.

Donning the coat again, Xanadu pulled up the hood and walked out into the rain, staying in the shadows of the building and watching for anything unusual.

At least an hour elapsed where nothing at all occured save the falling of the rain. It ebbed and surged, at times so harsh that it seemed to press down on Xana's back like a hand. She couldn't see anyone coming but in the darkeness it was difficult to tell. There were no lanterns but had someone chosen to come without one, there wasn't enough light to really tell. Eventually Xana heard the sound of footsteps and of water pattering on n umbrella. Emmanuel seemed to be quite damp anyway.

"Everyone is tucked away, you can come in now, if you like." He said, his body language rigid. It was a peace offering, probably inspired by the fact that he had let Neil do the talking, when he could have contibuted. It seemed his pride was slightly dented, though he was still soldiering on though it.

Xanadu had a lot of time to think while she slinked about in the rain. She supposed she had handled the situation badly. Coming face to face with a galdor had thrown her out of her comfort zone, forced her to face issues that made her uneasy. Every time she looked at him, she saw Glorie's killers staring back at her. She knew he wasn't to blame; it was just difficult to let go of the anger she felt toward his entire race.

And yet I must. The rage I feel draws me down into darkness. Unless I am able to move beyond it, I will never truly be free.

Footsteps behind her. She whirled around, hands hovering over her knives, surprised to see the very galdor she had been thinking about. What was he doing out in the driving rain? Her hands relaxed and fell back to her sides.



Her first instinct was to refuse, but she pushed it back. He is not the enemy. Not all gollies are evil, murdering bastards. This one seems to care for children, even those who are not galdori. Give him a chance.

Xanadu took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yes, I … I would like that,” she said. “The rain gets annoying after you have been out in it for awhile.”

Emmanuel nodded, offering his umbrella towards her, slightly, so she could step beneath it if she wanted to. His hand seemed to be slightly shaky. It was clear that while Xanadu had her misgivings, he had his own nerves to deal with. He seemed to radiate greeness but his field was almost warm. He was a classic clerk, unobtrusive even when it came to his magic.

"Indeed, it does." He led her back towards the house, not the stables. He showed her through a side entrance, into a small but warm kitchen.

"Where is Neil?" He asked, taking off his own coat and offering to take hers.

It seemed that joining a resistance movement, ostensibly against his own brethren, had not yet killed his manners.

The coat kept most of the rain off her back, but she had left the front open for easy access to her knives. That part of her was soaked through. Xanadu hesitated only a moment before stepping under Emmanuel's umbrella. It was shaking slightly, causing the raindrops that fell on it to dance wildly before continuing their downward journey. She noticed the galdor's trembling hand. Working against one's own people couldn't be easy, and he was young and seemed unsure. He has a lot more to lose than I do, she realized.

She was surprised when he turned towards his house. She would have liked to collect her sword first, but she supposed she could pick it up later. With a brief glance back at the stables, she followed him into a kitchen. The mercenary glanced around her curiously. She would have thought that a galdor's kitchen would be larger and more ostentatious. Perhaps this one was only for the use of his servants? Or maybe he wasn't the type of person to blatantly flaunt his wealth.

Xanadu's curiosity knew no bounds. It was one of the reasons she was excellent at espionage.



Neil. So that was the name of the man who had implied that she didn't know how to do her job. And he was right … if that job involved killing without question. Shrugging out of the waterproof coat Emmanuel had given her earlier, she handed it to him. She would have liked to remove her own coat, but decided against it.

“He went running off into the night, presumably after the intruders.” The brim of her cap was dripping water on her face, so she took it off and held it awkwardly in one hand, a bit dismayed that it was now dripping over the floor. She also pulled her two long thick braids from beneath her shirt. Her hair would dry faster without being encased in wet fabric. “I wanted to go after him, but I didn't want to leave you and your guests unguarded.”

Emmanuel bit his lip, drawing the curtains aside slightly to look out into the rain, as though he might be able to see the other man. He let them fall. He tried to smile at Xanadu but it was a wane thing. He looked worried.

"That was kind of you." He replied, moving over to the stove and lighting it with a muttered syllable. It seemed he was too cold to bother with noble uses.

It took a while for the room to warm but it was soon pleasant enough. Emmanuel's hair frizzed slightly from the heat.

The heat was stolen away when the door slammed open. The rain was beginning to fade and the light of morning was peering over the horizon. Neil looked annoyed. He was dripping blood onto the floor.

Xanadu felt uncomfortable, useless, and confused. She wanted to go after Neil, to ensure he didn't make too much a mess of things … or that the intruders didn't make too much a mess of him … but wasn't sure if it was her place to insist. The mercenary wasn't entirely certain exactly what her place was, but standing idle in a kitchen, even if she did crave the warmth, wasn't accomplishing anything. She needed action, and she was itching for a good fight.

She was just about to tell Emmanuel she was going to check on Neil, when he appeared in the doorway. Her eyes widened slightly and she wondered if it was his blood or someone else's dripping all over the floor. If it was his, she hoped he was not hurt badly. Xanadu had nothing against the man, although he seemed to have taken quite a dislike to her.

Several questions formed on her lips, but she wisely kept silent. As she had found out earlier, it was not her place to ask questions.

If the intruders were still out there, though, she hoped she would have a chance to at track them back to wherever they had come from. Tracking was another area at which she excelled, and if they wanted to utilize the best of her skills, tracking was a much better choice than killing.