Vandal Valiance (solo)

[Mathias]

Well. It used to say,

"Reliable. Honorable. Virtuous.
The City Guard.
Join Today!"

But that was before Mathias got to it. The rope was snug around his waist, and, after testing the line's stability, he lowered himself in front of the giant sign. As his feet touched the ledge of the bilboard, he carefully found his balance. "I'll show you some propaganda," he muttered under his breath. By mere starlight, he raised a simplistic looking wand to the message. The stick itself was made of plain oak and ended in a diamond-shaped point. When tapped, it sounded hollow, but then again, illusion was one of main ingredients in magic. Whatever enchantment had been placed upon it, one couldn't tell from a mere glance. Although it was not a hefty boon, the simple fact remained that plenty of damage could be rendered from the Vandalwand.

Feeling the energy between his hand and the wand activate, Mathias began to spray out the letters, covering them with a thick, black paint. Before long, reliable, honorable, and virtuous disappeared under a coat of ebony. Replacing them, in the same, large-lettered white caligraphy, were the words, "Lazy, dishonest, and pompous."

Math chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he mused over his own wit. In the corner of the sign, he made a few quick strokes, adding his signature - "Do the Math."

As he finished dotting the sentence, a light swept under his feet. The slick sound of steel ringing forth from a sheath sounded against the walls in echoes. A voice, rough and authoritative, called out from below the boy. "Halt there! Cease your vandalism and come down peacably. If you fail to comply, then I will be forced to take action." Of course, Mathias thought, he'd be forced. It wasn't like he was going to lay down and let himself be cuffed so easily. Taking care not to smudge his artwork, he kicked off from the ledge and let himself fall, his rope feeding through the rig he'd hooked up, until he came to an abrupt stop. He unfastened the belt that attached him to the rope and immediately fell to the ground. The man let out what sounded like a sigh of relief and began to sheathe his sword. As he did so, Mathias sprung to his feet, flashing the watchman a white, toothy grin, and turned, dashing down the street.

Stunned for a moment, the guard blinked. The boy turned had already turned a corner into an alleyway before he had gathered his wits enough to give chase. Rounding into the avenue, the officer broke into a rough sprint. His boots clonked noisly as he trudged through the street, whereas the boy, garbed in all black cloth, padded against the ground almost silently. By the time the watchman had turned the next corner, back into one of the main streets, he realized he had come to the Old District, and along with this revelation, came the next; His quarry had slipped out of sight and the chase could not continue.

Grumbling and flustered, the guard stomped back to his patrol route.

~

Everyone was sitting on the three couches surrounding a medium-sized, round maple table. As the door swung open rather violently, all the heads turned to face the source, rather nonchalantly. Mathias appeared, out of breath and smiling like a devil. "Hey, Vandal," came a scattered greeting. Shutting the door and taking a step forward, Math situated himself between a girl and the arm of the closest couch.

"Hey Cleric. Hey Fingers - hey there, Knuckles. What's up, Matches?" he said, greeting everyone in turn. He looked around, taking stock of everyone. He'd only been gone for a little under two hours, but it seemed like an eternity. And as the adrenaline began to subside from exploding through his veins, he felt the urge to look at everyone and reaffirm his reality once more.

Cleric was a pretty lass. She couldn't have been much older than Mathias was. Her skin was pale and her face was a sort of mouse-like cute. She had rounded cheeks and thin lips that were always bent into a kind smile. She had her chestnut brown hair pulled up into a bun pretty much all the time. She was usually enshrouded in her over-sized black jacket which held most of the vials and pouches and other stuff that she used to patch up the crew whenever one of them fell ill or got injured.

Her older sister, Matches, was rather different. She was drop-dead gorgeous, with a deep, flame-red hair that curled and bounced about her shoulders and down to her upper back. She had freckles, but they obscured nothing and were nicely spaced; not blotchy or anything. She showed off her well-rounded body a bit too much for Math's tastes, though. (Not that it, in any capacity, offended or disgusted him. As a matter of fact, he owed the reason for his dislike to the sheer magnitude to which it distracted him. And he hated being distracted.) She was a bit of a firecracker; her temper was equally unpredictable. She was the absolute contrast to her caring and docile little sister.

Fingers and Knuckles, although they weren't brothers (and you could definitely tell), were two peas in a pod. Fingers was a sly, short young man with weasel eyes and a weasel nose. He had small buck teeth and looked like a skittish rodent. Not to mention, he had a mustache that probably would never thicken or darken, no matter how many times he shaved and grew it back. As per his namesake, he was an extremely deft individual. Lockpicking, picklocking, pickpocketing, pocketpicking. He could do anything, so long as it involved picking and/or pocking of some sort. But Knuckles, unlike his counterpart, wasn't quite as blessed with the agility, intelligence, or charisma that Fingers was. On the absolute other end of the spectrum, Knuckles stood a daunting six feet, five inches tall and had a massive, lumbering frame. From this golem-esque body, hung a whole lot of meat. Whether it was mostly muscle, or fat, or a combination of both - that didn't quite matter. The simple fact of it was, was that when he hit you, you moved. You weren't going to worry about the science of it, or his bodily composition.

"So, Vandal," Cleric said, suddenly, her little squeaky voice piping up out of the soft silence. "How'd it go?"