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The Marionette: Noblesse Oblige
Chapter Two: The Fowl! Crimes undone! Highwaymen!

Chapter Two: The Fowl! Crimes undone! Highwaymen!

Chapter 2

The Fowl! Crimes Undone! Highwaymen!

Lord Griffin screamed at his house staff. His arms trailed his harsh words. His voice terrified the small gathered group.His man-at-arms stood a distance away, grim look upon there countenance.

"Fools! I can't fathom your ineptitude." He moved away from the coward staff. A burgundy wooden countertop in his sights, it matched the room. A spacious well decorated area; adorned with expensive furnishing.

On the walls one could see rows of different generations of Griffins. The new lord picture slightly newer and larger then his predecessor.

Grabbing a clear glass the lord poured himself a clear brown liquid. He gulped it hurriedly.

"At least that little hellion left me my drink!" He whirled around and when into his vicious monologue again.

"How? is all I want to know! Where were you when he came into my home, and robbed me blind. My damn research. My family jewels! Brought from the old country, invaluable jewels!" He pulled at his manicured hair.

"Let's not adds the books. All fucking Rare. Ancient! I was close to unlocking the damn thing!" Spittle flew from his mouth. His face was ripe as a tomato. "How? Somebody better tell me how this happened! And I mean now?"

The room eerily quiet. Glances were stole from dropped heads. Secret nodes were cast around the gathered.One man motioned to speak. He walked toward his lord. His attire was a black suit with a white tie. He had peppered hair.

"My liege." He said with a bow. "We do not know how he escaped, nor do we know how he was able to return unnoticed." He bowed. His head remained lowered. The lord yes bore into the man head.

"You are telling me th-" before he could finish the most shaded corner of the room shifted. A shadow stretched outward. The light dimmed. A figure stepped boldly out. It was cowled, the only facial features was the owl like mask. The figure had on wine red robes that trailed across the floor.

The man-at-arms recovered first. That drew steel and moved expertly toward the trespassing figure. A hollowed laugh emanated from the masked figure before it waived its hand femininely in their direction.

As if they were suspended in liquid their bodies slowed before freezing mid stride. The room erupted in chorus of shouts and prayers as the gathered moved from the figure.

The lord stumbled backwards, tripping over his own I'll place feet in his hasty backpedaling. He slammed into his bar, glasses crashed upon the ground. The brandy wobbled, threatening to follow.

"By the gods!"

"The gods have no play here." The owl masked person declared. The female voice surprised the others who were plants distance away. The door was locked, so they decided to distance themselves.

"You!" The lord stammered out.

"Yes, me!" She replied.

"What are you doing in my house? And how did you get passed my wards. I have on good authority that no one should freely enter here without causing alarm." The lord pushed out. His body language relaxed when he remembered the figure from last night.

A deep feminine voice emanated from the imposing masked woman.

"Your wards didn't help you against a child. Who blindly robbed you. And let's not add in his escape. Burning of the orphanage; which you utilize quite a lot."

"I would say he did a number on you. Quite the number at that." She waved her index finger his way. Ignoring the lady. He looked toward his staff. Anger in his eyes.

"Leave us!" The lord declared. The staff moved with haste toward the door, hoping it would open.

"Wait!" The masked woman shouted. The room grew silent, gulps and deep intakes of breaths followed. "I'm afraid I would have to wipe your memories of my coming. Please, for your sake, do not fight my probes."

She waived her gloved hand. A blue glow surrounded it, telling of magic use. Their eyes misted over. The guards, the staff, all blinked rapidly before they bowed to their lord. They turned and walked from the room completely disregarding the woman before them.

The lord looked terrified. 'Mind Magic' His mind trailed toward his great-great grandfather time. Casters who were gifted in mind manipulations.

They were called mind reavers, at least the ones who dabbled in using it to control, dark magic. He would know. Casters who sacrifice their very own self to absorb and shape minds of others.

They were rightly feared. An incident when a high aptitude mind user subverted an entire empire from the shadows. Enslaving the Royal family and ruling.

The mind reaver sought to conquer the smaller kingdoms. The battles that followed causes the great calamity. The fall!

It took the night of the strongest mages of the time to stop 'Mind reaver' the most disturbing thing about them was the fact they can utilize the person skills and use them like mere puppets.

With power of countless fallen skill users and mages the reaver carved a swath of destruction through the land.

Once a user attempts to control another with the their gift they become intoxicated. Nobody knows why, but the facts were there. Reavers were uncontrollable, mad with power not theirs. Drunk off living through other memories.

He shivered. After the Reaver fails the survivals rallied behind the mages and killed all people even slightly gifted in the art. Children and women alike.

The woman silently looked at the man as his face took on several emotions.

"So, your know of my gifts? Do not worry, I'm not my predecessors. It's ways to go about the mind without going mad with the memories of others."

"But.. but they were effectively wiped out! The families with the gifts were killed, even the minor illusionist were slaughtered. How?"

She laughed. Her voice like bells ringing. If her voice was that of angel. What of her physical looks. He shook his head. He couldn't trust nothing he thought at the moment.

She waved her hand. He jerked, expecting an assault.

"At ease my lord. If I wanted to harm you or your household, I would have before I came here. Oh! Do apologize to your brute of a captain. He was difficult to get by, at least utilizing my limited abilities. Berserkers were never known to use their minds anyway. How did he even come by the class?"

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"Ahh... uh.. well. I'm not sure, he was an adventure before he came into my service."

"Interesting!" She pondered something and continued.

"Now, my lord. Why I'm here? Let's talk about the child that escaped. She motioned for him to sit.

"Pour us a drink. We will be here a while. Also, please refrain from lies and half-truth. I'm sure you know my capabilities being a learned man?"

"Yes.... uhhh." The lord stammered he drifted toward the bar. Hands shaking. The aged, expensive brandy spilled over the brim of the glasses.

"Call me Fowl!" She spoke taking the glass.

                            ❧

Sargent Cole stood was seated at his desk. The sun rays drifted into his office on the second story of the castle. He was reading stacks of papers. Each one had a red seal on the bottom. His face grimace at each one that he slapped in a similar pile to left.

His fist smashed against the desk. "Why did I even accept his lord request to work for kings-men? I can't even question the damn lords I'm hired to oversee. This is ridiculous."

He stood up and went to his barely opened window. He looked outside. The sounds of people coming and going around the castle drifted toward his ears. The smell of castles chefs preparing food to feed the countless dignitaries and people residing in the castle made his stomach grumble.

A loud whistle from the distance brought his attention further. Steam pushed up from a metal contraption that sped across metal tracks.

"I'll never get used to that!" He spoke into the room.

It was a new invention from the east. Something called steam, was used to power it. Supposedly, wizards trained in fire and water with the right calculations were able to produce the necessary orb to power the loud metal beats.

The mixture of the two caused a new element to be made, steam. Which was on the rise, factories, ship-yards even some fancy carriages were now utilizing the new invention.

The king was the first to jump on this new way of travel. As of now it only served the nobles. It was a lot faster then most nobles could get around in there coach. Unless they used magical beast like most adventures.

"I should have became an Artificer!" He whispered glancing out the windows. Dove-port.

His eyes passed over the city. The commons, he had fun memories of. Being a low-born he grew up there. The markets, all minor of shopping to be done magical or otherwise.

The docks, the city was named dove port for a reason. Maybe two weeks ride from the capitol, well two days for nobles. The kingdom was small, but the being surrounded by water made it secure, enabling to be one of strongest kingdoms, even though it had the smaller military.

With an abundance of farms and fisheries, shipping was the main focus of the kingdom, most nobles owned or operated merchant ships. The kingdom mainly dabbled in export with the rich land and the abundance of spices that don't grow anywhere else mapped.

He drifted south passed the walls and looked at the more visible lords manor. He grimaced.

A knock at his door brought him from his wondering mind. "Come in!" He spoke. Back facing the door, he watch the train come into dock. The whistle blared, alerting the waiting people of its imminent departure.

"Sargent Cole. A mature voice spoke. He recognized it immediately. His facial features changed. He put on his most common face. That of a kings-men. He turned and looked into the eyes of a woman much older then him. She still had soot on her face, no doubt still busy from the mess earlier.

"Yes, Matron Euila!" His voice was polite.

"Sit!" He motioned for the chair in front of his desk.

She nodded. She sat down almost quickly, her body almost slacked in the comfortable chair. She was exhausted.

He looked at the woman. Waiting on her to gather herself. He had time. He looked down at the final notice. 'Cease!' Was writing on this as well he placed it on the pile turned downward, wondering eyes.

"Goodnes!" The motherly lady spoke. She took a deep breath. "Sorry, sir. I have been up the entire night. Thanks for procuring an inn for the children. And a nice one at that.

"You are welcome! Matron!"

"Yes, I hate to add that this is probably the best the children had in quite some time. Too bad it's not permanent."

"The king is a lover of children as was his fathers father. They will be taken care of. Some will be apprentice around town, the older ones at least. The younger one will be sent to the kings orphanage in the capitol."

"That great! I was so afraid for their wellbeing. How goes the search for the missing boy. I can't wait to see him face kings justice. I can't believe he murdered the principal. I don't know why we let these abominations into our land. It's absolutely clear they have different values then us."

"That's exactly  why I summon you here to discuss, Matron. This youth," he drifted through folders. "Here we are. So, he has no name?" He looked toward her.

"Well, since we didn't know how long he will be with us. We decided to forgo that!" She said eyes enlarging.

'Sigh!'

"Birthday? Origins? No picture of his likeness. Also, his results from the test have not been submitted?! Why is that?"

"He was unruly. Vicious and foul! It was hard enough to keep the other children safe from him." She stammered.

"Ahhh.. I see! Here is a few forms on medical care administered at the school." He tossed the annuals and weekly forms sent in by the local healer guild.

She looked over the numerous forms. Her eyes drifting back and forth. Sweat poured down her brow making the black soot run.

"Injuries, bruising, broken limbs. Do I need to continue?" He asked

"No! I can re...ad!" She spoke, eyes looking everywhere but his.

"If I wasn't mistaken, I would say the boy was being abused. But, that's the less of your problems, matron!"

He grabbed another stack. He tossed it toward her and stood. He walked toward his door. He opened it and ask for the receptionist to seen in the Deputies.

"Please! I was only following orders of the principal. This is not my doing. Please-"

"That's is between whatever deity you pray to and the courts to decided." His eyes betrayed his anger. But to respect the office he didn't pass judgment like he would have if this was the frontier. Out there the law was different.

She stood upward. He face darting for an exit. "Please matron. Don't make this harder then what it should be, own up to your crimes."

She bolted toward the door. He moved from her mad dash, the receptionist jumped up alarmed. He shook his head to her. Two man came around the corner, startled. They looked toward the Sargent to get his permission and acted.

                              ❧

A youth walked up dirt path. A sack was over his left shoulder, a dagger hung to his right. He was dirty and barefoot. In the distance a a large dust cloud was seen, screams and twins of crossbow bolts were heard. Men and women were screaming. The ragged breath of mounts, froth foaming at their mouth as they bit into the metal piece in their mouth.

The youth darted off the path. Men came speeding toward his hiding spot soon afterwards being chased by men in tattered jerkin armor. The man on the coach had an arrow in his shoulder.

The woman was working a crossbow expertly, as she shot the chasing men down. Another man trailed on a dark horse, sword flashing as he battled the brigands. Another man laid across the top of the wagon. His bow whistling as he launched arrow after arrow, his ears were pointed. The youth noticed that and rubbed his own pointed ears.

"Yaw, Yaw" he coachmen slapped the reins forcing the beast of burden to give their all. A man riding on some lizard beast raised his free hand, a fiery orb appeared. He tossed the orb toward the coach, his voice trailed after it.

he entombed.

The ball zip passed the defending man. His mare neighed in protest, as he gripped the reigns and pulled sideways. His eyes tracked the orb as it spiraled toward the coach before become a blazing ball of fire.

Startled by the attack, the attacking leather attired brigand nip him across his arm with his blade. "Arghhhh!" He screamed grabbing his arm, blood leaked freely. His good hand gripped the reign, the horse sped up, putting distance between his master and his pursuer.

The fire all erupted against the axel, igniting the metal and old wood instantly. The coach lurched sideways, the wheels wobbling, smoke raised from the back. The woman turn and scream toward the man who was standing up in his seat snapping the reigns pushing the mounts to speed up.

A squeal from metal grinding metal. A crackling of wood burning to ash. The coach hit a rough patch in the makeshift road, lurching it upwards, the woman and the bow-man gripped the coach before they were expelled.

Snap!

The coach landed hard. The wheel shot outwards into the greenery of the path. The coach axel dragged along the ground. Metal axel leaving a impression as the horse sped up insanely.

The bow-man rolled from the top of the damaged coach. He landed on his feet Daggers at the ready. Brigand bearing down on him. Sword raised to slaughter the man.

The coachmen pulled on the reins trying to stop the enraged mounts. Froth foamed on the lead horse mouth. He pulled the reigns harder, the mare neither savagely before its eyes turned white and it head lowered, snapping it neck into the pavement at an increased speed.

The coachman grabbed the woman in a tight hug and and dived toward the side using his body as cushion. He landed hard. The woman tumbled out his hands and rolled across the pathway. Her voice cried out as her arm twisted.

She was dazed. Her arm was broken and she was sure she had a concussion from the ringing in her head. She coughed hard, a coppery taste followed. She rolled on her side. She opened her eyes. Her vision was cloudy.

Voices laughing and a man cry of pain met her ears. She laid their trying to stand, she had to fight. If they caught her.... she didn't want to think of the implications. She stood on her knees her face facing the greenery. Slanted eyes met her renewed sight, curious eyes, crouch oddly in the bushes almost unseen, she choked a scream.

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