Korran hid a grimace as his steed leapt over a fallen tree log, jerking his sore rib more than needed. His mind quickly became inured to the sharp pain caused by the horse's gait, but the long leap broke that rhythm.

He brought up the rear in the line, so everyone had waited briefly and now started back their quick trot, seemingly unaware of his discomfort. Mathis seemed to be in good spirits, humming a quiet tune that worked fine as noise pollution.

Initially, he'd been worse off than Korran; he'd gotten a busted lip and nose that was bound to sting for a while, along with cuts along his shin where he'd tripped over the strong thread. However, Petra had been eager to offer her her Pateral ability to heal the spearman. It had only taken a couple of seconds for Mathis' mangled face to be restored, and even Korran had to grudgingly admit it was impressive - though he made sure a sharp glare stopped her from asking if he wanted a similar experience.

Now, he settled back into the familiar rhythm of stabbing pain in his rib, drifting into deeper thoughts than discomfort. It was unreasonably hard for Korran to fight someone when he wasn't going for the kill. He'd been built into a killing machine where subduing wasn't on the agenda, which is why in jobs labeled dead or alive, he preferred to show the employer a carcass.

Still, it seemed he had severely underestimated the Guerdian's abilities. He was still unable to understand how he had trumped Korran once he had gotten inside the reach of his spear. Perhaps he had been arrogantly reliant on his speed, but that close, his spear shouldn't have been able to reach Korran like that.

He replayed it in his head again; he'd leapt onto the spear's body, pushing down the weapon until it met the ground, then instinctively took one more step across the length to boost the success rate of his chart, before leaping at the vulnerable man. As his experience stated, once he got inside the reach of the spear the user was a dead man taking his last breaths on this plane. However, Mathis had slid back and in the blink of a salt-encrusted eye, his spear suddenly appearing in front of Korran.

It didn't make sense.

Korran snapped out of his thoughts as he noticed one of the horses slowing down so that their rider would be by his side. He looked up at the culprit warily, annoyed that she had chosen the side with his bruised rib. "An ancubba thread, huh?" Fiona asked with a humorless smile.

"So, you recognized it," Korran replied evenly. He'd expected her to, but not to be bold enough to confront him about it.

She spared him a thoughtful glance with those intense blue eyes. "I did, and curiosity seems to have gotten the better of me. Do forgive me, but seeing a Kalio member use one of the Kiersha clan's sacred weapons is quite surprising. Where did you get it?"

Korran decided to humor her. "I made it."

She was unable to hide the mixture of shock and disgust that clouded her features for a split-second too long. She searched his face - presumably for a tell-tale sign of him lying - though she would've been unsuccessful even if he was. "You kid?"

"I've never made a good jester, so I don't make it a habit to deliver jokes. I learned the trade and I'm not so rooted in Kalio ideology to shun the idea of its usefulness." As he spoke, visions of Kalio members who fell victim to the sharp, thick thread came to mind. In the worst case he had witnessed, one had been hung from an oak tree with the thread as a message to stop crossing onto their territory.

She rubbed at her eyes idly as she trained her gaze forward. Her voice came as a whisper as she said, "Full of surprises aren't you?"

"I sure hope so."

They rode in silence for a while until she had composed herself again. It wasn't lost on Korran how strongly she reacted despite her claims of having no further obligations to her clan. "I'd never seen a Guerdian fight in person before now. I do believe the result would've come sooner if you were fighting with intent to kill."

Korran wasn't one to lie without reason, especially when that lie would make him look more formidable. An assassin's work was much easier when they were underestimated. "Truth be told; I don't think he fought with killing intent either."

Mathis was well trained in organized warfare, so Korran doubted he'd gone through training to conceal his killing intent since it wasn't a necessary precaution in that setting.

Fiona didn't seem convinced, but Korran didn't care to assure her. Frankly, he was suspicious of her sudden desire to talk to him. Kiershans rarely did anything without an ulterior motive, after all.

It only took another fifteen minutes before the light musky air carried voices along its path. It didn't take Alaric to tell the group that they were nearing the city, the voices did it for them. These were people who had taken the longer, safer routes, instead of cutting through the dangerous forest. Frankly, their group might've had more trouble with predators of the animal variety if not for the presence of Wulfur.

Alaric stopped after a few more strides - controlling his horse whom Korran had heard him call Alpha - masterfully. There seemed to be no limit to dumb pet names in this motley crew. Korran half expected Ardus to have named his weapon after a God or something.

"We'll split up here," Alaric announced.

"Are you sure that's a good idea with another team lurking around?" Ardus asked tentatively. Korran got the impression the man didn't want to step on Alaric's toes further. He had noticed him holding him back earlier this morning.

Alaric nodded firmly. "We'll meet back up at the harbor. Korran's cloak doesn't do a good job of hiding his face and there's bound to be a lot of wandering eyes in a busy city. I figured Mathis, Fiona, and I are the least conspicuous, so we'll go on a bit of a shopping trip for more discreet clothing, while you guys take the longer route around the city to the harbor."

"I look conspicuous?" Petra asked curiously.

Alaric gave a faint amused smile. "No, but your furry friend sure does. This way you can accompany him, unlike last time."

Petra's face brightened at the realization. She had a weird way of smiling, with half of her lips twirling upward naturally and the other half appearing as stiff as a parched plant. "Okay," she muttered.

"You'll walk along the forest perimeter in a semi-circle fashion, crossing a small bridge before ultimately reaching your destination," Alaric instructed. "As long as you keep the city's walls in site, you'll know you're still on the right path." He seemed to add on the next bit as an afterthought, and Korran got the impression that he was specifically being addressed, "And try to avoid trouble, eh?"

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"We certainly won't go looking for it," Ardus grunted.

That answer seemed to satisfy Alaric. "Safe travels, then."

"May death be on your side," Korran mumbled.

Korran watched the trio descend the hill keenly. He suspected Alaric had chosen the two least likely to turn on him for his bounty to accompany him. He'd been in his fair amount of big cities to know there would be much stranger looking persons than Ardus, and a pet wolf might draw some attention - especially one as large as Wulfur - but they wouldn't be turned away.

Though the chance of someone recognizing him in a city was a reasonable concern.

"We'd best get moving," Ardus annnounced and Petra muttered her timid agreement.

Korran followed behind the pair, noting the differences in their gaits. Ardus walked with experienced confidence, his head high and muscular body relaxed as he walked at a even pace that was on the brisk side for the average person; while Petra reeked on uncertainity and looked around warily from time to time at nothing at all, as if she feared the very branches of the trees would reach down and grab her at any moment.

It was truly a wonder how she'd tamed the beast that glided along beside her. Not for the first time, Korran questioned her usefulness without the canine.

The walk was unpleasant, lasting for the better of two hours with the setting sun finding the right angle to hound their backsides relentlessly. To top it off, mosquitoes were out in studious attendance, leading Korran to believe they were near some type of wetlands. The savage pests didn't mind that Korran's hands were covered, aiming for the exposed part of his legs and face.

Still, the annoyances didn't upset Korran too much and he found himself daydreaming about his recent fights; what he could've done better and what weaknesses his opponents may have presented. The art of battle was that experience sharpened your blade, but you had to first acknowledge the room for improvement, even in the most resounding victories.

Occasionally they passed people on their path who were much friendlier and better attired than any Korran had laid eyes on in a while. They revealed varying thick accents when they greeted the trio, and their clothes were excessively flamboyant, consisting of the brightest colors and richest silks.

To Korran, they might as well have been wearing a 'prey' sign on their forehead. Before he found his calling as a dagger for hire, he was sure he'd become a legendary bandit leading his own crew; however, he quickly realized there was no pleasure in preying on the weak.

The bittersweet memories of his younger days were cut short as Ardus came to a sudden stop. Immediately Korran could sense the sudden tension that infiltrated Ardus' body. The way the hulking man's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded a potential threat.

Korran followed his gaze and discovered they had reached the bridge Alaric had mentioned. He'd called the bridge small but that was clearly by his unrealistically grand expectations. The bridge arched gracefully over the beginnings of a canal. Worn cobblestones decorated the surface, a slick smoothness marring the material as a result of decades of footsteps traversing across. Beneath the bridge, the canal water glinted amber as the descending sun's rays kissed its surface.

What had caught Ardus' ire, however, was the three hooded figures leaning against the entrance to the bridge. Korran's experienced eyes immediately classified them as trouble from their demeanor and the unnerving weapons peeking out from behind their clothes.

One of the figures was looking in their direction with the faintest of smirks beneath his hood. He had a black scythe with a wickedly curved blade pinned against his back which Korran noted with annoyance. It was rare for him to come across someone using a scythe as a weapon - but every time he did, they had turned out to be quite skilled.

"Who are they?" Petra asked warily. Korran didn't need to look at her to know her fear was written all over her face, the shakiness in her voice was proof enough.

"No idea, but we'll have to go past them. Just follow my lead and we should be fine; they've no reason to start trouble with us."

Ardus sounded confident, but Korran knew his words were meant to calm down Petra so she wouldn't rile them up with her showcase of fear. The truth was, if they recognized Korran they had great incentive to start trouble.

Wulfur, sensing his owner's discomfort pointed his ears forward and let out a low guttural growl. "You'd best control your mutt before it lassos us into this unnecessary fight," Korran warned. He didn't miss Ardus' look of surprise as he glanced back at him. He seemed to be expecting Korran to want a fight.

Korran would be lying if he said there wasn't a small itch at the back of his mind, wondering exactly how strong these strange men were and how he'd fare against them, but he'd had more than his fair share of battle since joining this group. Not to mention, his rib decided now was a good time to remind him of the discomfort it was in.

Ardus started toward the bridge and Petra followed after quieting Wulfur with a firm glance. Korran brought up the rear, his hands never moving too far from his sides where his trusty daggers resided. He was unable to lock his pain back away in his subconscious with all of his focus now on the three figures who watched their approach.

"Good day," Ardus said when they reached them. His voice was measured, not too overbearing, but not too polite; a cautionary warning was lodged in his tone.

Black Scythe leaned forward, revealing a boyish face that didn't match the intensity of his sinister smirk. "Quite good, I'd say. Better now, I dare say." He had a thick accent - foreign even to Korran - which made it sound like all of his words were joined together at the hip, slurred out in one impossibly quick syllable.

Ardus never stopped moving forward, barely acknowledging the man's reply. Korran noted that the other two hooded figures seemed content to watch them pass, but Black Scythe's eyes shifted to Petra, and he openly leered at her - though Korran suspected he was simply fishing for a reaction.

The man let out a low whistle of appreciation, nearly scaring poor Petra who was pointedly trying to avoid eye contact, out of her shoes. Her eyes met his and a whimper escaped her throat as she drew away from him.

Wulfur had been behaving well, but this was too much for him. He growled ferociously, stepping toward the man and looking poised to lunge at any second.

"Oh?" Black Scythe cooed with the calmness of someone not on the bad side of a seven foot monster. "I wonder how that mutt would taste? A bit tough I'd imagine, but I never cower from a challenge."

Korran had been walking with his head down, doing his best to ensure he wasn't recognized, but he'd been watching the trio's feet intently, and he saw Black Scythe raise a foot to step forward.

He readied his daggers with the least movement necessary. The moment that foot began its descent was when he'd strike. Most trainers taught the importance of patience, but the truth was patience could doom any man. The key was knowing when a situation called for impatience. In a standoff, the person brave enough to make the first move could give themselves a great advantage.

His aim was to make a deciding strike that would take the man out of the fight quickly. Even without looking up, he began pinpointing where he would need to strike to deal a critical blow and mentally prepared himself. The roar from the pain in his rib dulled as adrenaline coursed through him, but he took note of the injury - estimating he'd be slower than usual.

Black Scythe's foot paused in the air and Korran looked up to see that one of the other figures had placed a hand on his shoulder. The man had a scruffy, unkempt goatee with eyes the color of crystal blue jewels. His eyes were latched onto Korran, but he addressed Black Scythe as he said, "Is this your idea of keeping a low profile? The boss said lay low, you tearaway."

Black Scythe turned mechanically, his smirk disappearing as he glared daggers at the man who dared to stop him. The man met his glare evenly and Black Scythe held it for only a few seconds before breaking into a pout. "That doesn't mean I can't have fun," he whined.

"Be patient just a little longer, we will be needed soon."

Korran tapped Petra who had frozen at the man's advance before pointing forward. She got the message and was all too eager to hurry forward. Ardus had stopped, sensing the impending conflict but he too started back forward, though at a less hurried pace than Petra.

It was unnerving walking the rest of the way across the bridge, knowing that a ticking bomb in human form was behind his back, but Korran didn't give him the satisfaction of appearing unsettled enough to look back.

What worried him most was the words from the other man; 'We will be needed soon.'

That didn't sound good.