Korran met the inquisitive stares of the men with glares. He was already marking the men who seemed strongest in his head, visualizing the maneuvers he'd have to do to get to them quickest.

"What are you babbling on about, you jester?" Alaric roared suddenly with a chuckle. "My little brother the Dagger of the East? I warned you to drink only your fill and nothing more, less you start making tales too tall for our own good!" He turned to address the hushed room now. "My bad, folks, I'm afraid I need to shorten this man's leash."

A few chuckles arose while a few more just shook their heads. After all, Alaric was a compelling actor. Though, it wasn't lost on Korran how some stares lingered.

Alaric moved toward a confused Mathis and made a signal with his hands. Fiona seemed to understand because she smoothly stepped closer to Mathis and stuck him with a minute needle.

The Keirsha clan was well known for their proficiency with poison - which was thought to be one of the main reasons Kalio training was so focused on becoming resistant to most, so Korran wasn't surprised to see Mathis slump forward after the injection. Korran suspected it was some non-lethal sedative on its tip. Alaric reached the pair in time to catch Mathis before he hit the ground.

"Ah, a woman who knows how to deal with men subjugated by the devil's cup," said the accused 'pig' with an exaggerated drawl. "Perhaps I oughta learn yer name and take ya for a tussle, ya know?"

"Not unless you intend to lose the fingers you use to play fools," Fiona replied without missing a beat.

The man seemed flustered - then enraged - if the sudden protruding forehead veins were any indication. No man in such a small village would be accustomed to a woman with a tongue so bold. The Keirsha clan had an interesting dynamic; women were the most likely to become assassins in the class, rather than men who were usually the main source of fighters, no matter the type. However, what the women lacked in strength they made up for in deception, and that was the focus of Keirshans.

Alaric professionally guided his hand into the small of Fiona's back, pushing her just enough to lead her away and put himself between the man and her. "We'll be getting out of your hair then," said Alaric.

Korran was ahead of him, walking briskly without sound to the stairs. A few curious gazes followed him, but most seemed to believe he couldn't be the man with such a bounty on his head. After all, he was just a teen.

Truth be told, Korran didn't hate the feeling of being continuously underestimated.

≫ ──────── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──────── ≪

Korran was surprised to see everyone downstairs at the break of dawn. They'd only planned to meet downstairs, but didn't decide on a synchronized time. He hadn't even been sure the wasted Guerdian could understand the instruction at the time, but sure enough, he was downstairs at the table - sitting normally and looking as healthy as he did before they entered the village.

Korran suspected this had less to do with the sedative and more with his body's familiarity with being in that state. He made sure to shoot a particularly venomous glare the man's way when their eyes briefly met.

"We'll have to hold back on our alcohol consumption for the rest of the mission," Alaric said once they were outside, not needing to mention Mathis in particular for everyone to know who he meant.

Mathis sighed aloud. "Understood, boss. I just don't get why you're so protective of this guy though, if he's as harmless as he looks, what's the point of him joining us?"

Korran was very tempted to show him just how fast his harmless dagger could move.

"Alaric said not to attract attention," Ardus said. "What you did was exactly that."

Korran suspected no one except Alaric knew of his bounty - though Fiona was a possibility.

Mathis grunted his acknowledgment and stayed quiet the rest of the way, which was just as well, considering Korran was growing tired of holding back the urge of making him pay.

"Onward now, folks. We should be at the harbor by night, that'll be prime time to conduct our business," Alaric said in a bit of a humming tone when they'd retrieved their horses and mounted them. Korran did not miss the beast.

When they once again walked through the entrance gateway - which also served as an exit, the guard was awake this time around and stared hard at them as they left. He smelled of the devil's drink himself and stale breath wafted over the group when he muttered an unenthusiastic good morning.

Upon leaving the guard's view, Petra's friend, Wulfur walked out from a thicket. He had fresh blood splattered on his muzzle and fiercely focused eyes. Korran gulped involuntarily at the sight.

"He went hunting," Petra explained to the many worried glances. She fearlessly reached down to pat Wulfur, though her horse needed some reassuring.

That damn beast will soon decide to hunt us, Korran thought, though he didn't voice his worries.

Alaric led them back into the forest. Korran found himself admiring Alaric's knowledge of the land. He'd chosen the spot because it was so remote; showing up on most maps as a large patch of forests bordered by various peaks. The small villages in between weren't visible on maps. Still, Alaric would've had access to much more advanced and updated maps - but Korran still thought the feat deserved a measure of respect.

On they went, deeper and deeper into the sunbathed forestry, with the limbs of massive trees preventing the sun's budding assault. After about an hour, Korran started to feel the unmistakable ghastliness of unseen eyes. Just as he was cycling through his memory to remember how to make the darn beast go faster, Petra's head whipped around to Wulfur who'd stopped to sniff the air.

The two creepily stared at each other for a moment, then Petra brought her horse to a halt. "Wulfur thinks we're being followed," she announced, fear present in her voice and the tact Korran was planning absent. She'd likely just alerted whoever was watching them.

Alaric brought his own horse to a halt, turning to show a slightly worried expression. "You're sure?" Petra nodded solemnly in response.

"Maybe it's some of those villagers who heard your accent and think they're tough enough to shake you down," Mathis offered in a whisper. "Well, let them try," he added, sliding his spear off his back and brandishing it.

Ardus hopped off his horse suddenly with a loud thud and crouched down, pressing his ear to the earth's floor. The rest watched in stunned silence as the man stiffened, his eyes taking on a nebulous glow. "There's a lot," he stated after a full minute of awkward silence, "Too many footsteps for just some brave villages' venture, I'd figure."

"You can tell that from putting your ear in the mud?" Korran asked genuinely, his interest piqued. If accurate enough, it'd make hunting the man a bit complicated - should he ever have to.

"Aye, the earth carries entire stories in the vibrations that address it - 'specially if they are grouped together. A man needs only be humble enough to offer an ear."

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"Shouldn't we be moving quickly then?" Petra asked, reeking of nervousness. Korran worried about how she'd perform in battle.

"No, running isn't much of an option," said Alaric with a thoughtful look. "This is a bottleneck path which will leave us will lead us wide open to ambushes."

"Alaric's got the right idea," Korran commented grimly. If these guys know what they're doing, they'll follow us at arm's length, keeping their presence noticeable while waiting for us to wear down. We'll be scared to sleep, and sleep deprivation will lead to a weakened state that they'll take advantage of."

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience," Fiona said dryly.

"And what if I am?"

Alaric cleared his throat loudly. "We'll continue until we reach a clearing where we'll have space to maneuver, then we'll take up a stand and find out what they're after. If there's an opportunity to avoid fighting and wasting more time - we'll take it."

No complaints arose from the team and Alaric continued down the path much slower than before. Korran now surveyed the underbrush as they walked, each rustling brush holding the possibility of harboring an assailant behind it.

It didn't take very long for them to come to a small clearing and for Alaric to bring his steed to a stop. His expression was all business-like now, as Korran had seen it back in the cave when he'd startled him. The man had a knack for switching from the diplomatic noble to a warrior worthy of carrying a greatsword in the blink of an eye.

It was different for Korran; he needed to stay at one wavelength, always prepared for things to go tits-up. That was how life on the run had conditioned him. Truthfully, it's how he had been conditioned from birth with the amoral training he had been subjected to.

The six individuals waited anxiously, each second feeling like a minute and each minute a lifetime. Just as the expressive Guerdia prepared to make some remark, the overhead trees started to shake. Slowly at first, just enough to alert everyone that it was unnatural, but it quickly rose in pitch, until leaves started falling in clusters as if an army was stampeding on the branches.

Korran cursed and drew his daggers. A lot seemed like an understatement. Still, he pushed the thought away, unwilling to make a definite judgment yet - after all, it could've been a strategy to make themselves look like more than they were.

"There's so many," Petra whispered in a shakey voice.

"Hush," Fiona hissed. "Stop showing fear, it'll only make you look harmless."

The rustling continued, stretching further until it encircled the entire clearing. In a practiced swoop, they had been surrounded.

Three men dared to reveal their faces from their perch on one of the trees. Korran groaned as he made out a familiar face; a man in the middle who grinned, despite missing a front tooth and his other being golden. His clothes were tattered from being caught on branches and the like, but he carried a rapier which appeared to be in mint condition. "Ho there! Going for a stroll, eh? Seems we're heading in the same direction, would ya mind if we tagged along?"

"This is Nolan, the leader of a successful bandit group," Korran whispered under his breath. Everyone had instinctively drifted to the middle. Wulfur stood next to Petra, growling up at the three men.

Alaric digested the information in a second and was speaking in the next. "We've no merchandise worth all this trouble here, gentlemen. However, from what I've seen, should you head far west of here - carriages carrying noble folks are abundant."

Nolan chuckled, turning to the man on his left and pointing lazily at Alaric. "Fancies himself intelligent, doesn't he? Telling us hard-working men how to do our job with his posh city crow accent." He turned back, his grin replaced by a humorless smile. "Well, witty crow, I believe there's a single piece of merchandise down there worth more than the loot of twenty of your damn carriages put together - so I do say the trouble is worthwhile."

Everyone except for Alaric and Korran looked around in confusion and Nolan's eyes widened with glee at the sight. "Oh? Keeping secrets from fellow travelers? How mean!" He let out another raspy chuckle and Korran imagined a dagger slicing through the man's windpipe. "That rascal clutching his puny daggers as if they can reach me is currently worth five hundred thousand gurdees."

The resulting silence was louder than a banshee's scream. Korran swore even Wulfur stopped his snarling to regard Korran with curious eyes. Korran gritted his teeth; now that his secret was out, he imagined all of his nights would be as restless as the last, always wondering if someone would decide that they preferred the quick money that didn't include going up against the fearsome Greta company.

Korran noticed Alaric refusing to meet anyone's eyes, his brows furrowed in a classic portrait of frustration. No doubt he was thinking about the team's synergy - if there would be any left after this encounter.

"So that's why you reacted like that back at the inn," Fiona said with a satisfied snap of her fingers, as if Alaric's reaction had been bugging her. "I'd think it's important to let us know of conditions that can put us in danger."

"I'd think so too, sweet-pie," Nolan said in a sing-song voice. "It's nigh-time we stop drawing out this little dance. Hand over the so called Dagger of the West and me and my boys will be as civil as your people back home, boy."

Korran glanced up at the eyes peeking through the branches of the trees surrounding the clearing. He still couldn't get an exact number but he estimated they were north of fifty people poised to jump down and attack at once. He racked his brain for a solution, his imagination fabricating scenarios then dispersing them when he found a hole, until...

Korran walked forward boldly and none of his peers made any effort to stop him. Typical. "Come get me then, Toothless." Nolan raised a suspicious eyebrow, then after a heartbeat, broke into full-winded laughter. Korran continued, unperturbed, "You've been trying to make a name for yourself, coming up with lousy titles that never stick for what feels like ages now. If you drag me to the Guildhall and claim my bounty perhaps that will change."

Nolan rolled his eyes. "That's the plan, yes. I will be referred to as Nolan, the Rapier Devil."

It was Korran's turn to roll his eyes but he managed to quell the urge. "However, you won't earn that title by relying on a horde of men for one man. I'll give you the opportunity to earn that title, Toothless. I challenge you to a duel."

Nolan shifted uncomfortably and Korran could just make out a bulge traveling down his throat as he gulped. "Scared now, are we?" he asked with false bravado. "Take me for a right fool - he does. The moment I step down there his friends will join in."

Korran almost smiled at the irony of his concern but instead he cast a meaningful glance in the direction of his 'friends' and they readily walked to the edge of the clearing. Only Alaric hung behind for a second. "Good luck," he muttered, both with his mouth and large eyes. His eyes seemed to be pleading for everything to turn out okay.

Korran turned back to Nolan. "What now? You have all your men gathered here. No doubt you've told them stories of your heroics, now is a chance to have them bear witness." Korran allowed his lips to curl into a taunting grin, "Unless you're scared of these puny daggers?"

Nolan grimaced, realizing he was caught in Korran's hastily thrown net. A bandit group wasn't the same as an army, where patriotism played a role in obedience and any seditious behavior was easily punished. A bandit group - especially one as big as this one - was made up of villagers tired of fighting for scraps, rogues exiled from their clans, and warriors banished from their posts. The quick life of crime, free from the reigns of society's expectations and partnered with similar agents of unfortunate circumstances was enticing to many.

To lead such a group required a healthy dose of fear and an even healthier fountain of respect. Any cracks in the bowl containing this mixture and ambitious criminals would start biting at the bit to take their place at the front of the pack. Korran had planted the seed of doubt now, and any refusal on his part would water it.

"Very well," Nolan said finally. The man on his right gripped his shoulder and whispered in his ear. "Fear not, friend," Nolan said loudly, playing to his crowd, "the poster said dead or alive. I only hope I remember that this boy needs to remain identifiable."

The crowd of bandits perched on various branches had been holding their breath but now they erupted into cheers at their leader's words. Leaves showered down on Korran as their excitement shook them loose. Nolan leaped down from the tree, landing on all fours in a crouched position - his gaze predatory as he surveyed Korran.

"It didn't have to be like this, boy."

Korran had once traveled with Nolan years ago, when he sought cover to hide his trail. The man had accepted him into his group on the condition that he earned his keep, and ear his keep he had - pillaging along the hardened men, who were merrier than any criminal group he'd ever encountered.

"Yet it is," Korran said simply, scraping his daggers together in preparation. It had been a bit since he'd cut loose - outside of his accursed dreams. He was already visualizing how he'd maneuver around the man's rapier. The man was known for his speed, but Korran was sure he would be faster yet.

Nolan gave a resigned nod - decades of a dangerous life allowing him to clear his head at will. "Let's get on with it then, eh?"

Before he had finished his sentence Korran had cleared half the distance between them. Nolan quickly transitioned into a neutral stance, his right foot skidding forward and shoulder turned with his rapier extended outward.

His tongue delicately caressed the space between his teeth as he keenly watched the blur that was Korran, his rapier's point directly in line with where he estimated the boy's chest would be.

Even in full flight, the damn brat's footsteps were made of silk, so he placed his full trust into his eyesight, braving the charge until his instinct took over and his eyes gauged the time was right.

He thrust his rapier forward then, sure that the boy couldn't avoid it at the speed his short feet traveled.