Under the Light of the Midnight Moon

[Raimeiken]

((Closed~ Please refer to this recruitment thread! >> http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=15157 ))

"Hey, Sets-chan! Look at that!"

A warm breeze swept in from the sea, playing with the Kitsuna maidens' locks and light kimono while they strode down the Radasanthian oceanfront. A black-fur foxgirl looked up, following the gaze of another red-hair maiden who was marvelling at the vast open sea.

Nanakaze Setsuna squinted her eyes at the glowing afternoon sky, pitifully shielding the bright orange rays from entering her eyes to no avail. But as the object in question hovered closer into view, she had trouble believing what she saw.

"Stay here, master." The genko discarded a long rod of white oak along with her large pack before hopping agilely onto the nearest railing. With a single powerful bound, augmented by the recoil of the wooden railing sagging under her weight, the maid leaped into the air an snatched the small white piece of envelop from the air.

But it took her a moment to realize where she was landing.

"Aiee-!"

Splash!

~~~

The sun had long died to the relentless void pushing forth across the sky, replacing the crimson blanket with ones of deep violet satin. Specks of shining gems littered the canvas above, giving guidance to the people below.

The two had since taken refuge at the local tavern, Setsuna paying for their room even as she sneezed and whiped her lips in vain attempts at ridding her tongue of the distastefully salty sensation. It was only their luck that their room was well-kept: A pair of fresh towels in the dresser helped to dry her light coat of fur and a bright, burning lantern to chase the moisture from her clothes.

"At least the item you found has yet remained dry, master Konoka." Setsuna remarked, rubbing the soft cotton towel through her hair. "Although I wonder how it could have ended up floating on the winds as we have seen today."

Konoka smiled, turning from the window as she watched the last of the day's presence leave the bustling capital of Corone. Even in the approaching darkness, her lively auburn hair remained as vibrant as the day had yet to pass by.

"Well, there's no seal or special sign on the front. Let's see what's inside, then!"

The master's slender fingers ripped open the paper envelope, revealing a thin piece of paper resting within the holds. Holding it to the bright lantern's lights, the elegant written words appeared from the darkness. One by one...


Dear, whomever received this letter of invitation...

[MetalDrago]

The wind howled as the rainwater fell from the sky, soaking through his cotton cloak. MetalDrago scowled, his green eyes glowing in the darkness. As he came upon a town ahead of him, he saw an envelope without an address. Picking it up, he noticed that the rain seemed to slide right off. This was high-end stuff, enchanted to withstand weather of any kind while being delivered.

MetalDrago walked inside the nearest inn and sat down in the corner farthest from the bar. A waitress came up to him and said, "Whatcha having, hun?" MetalDrago smiled slightly inside his cloak and said, "Some grape wine, if you please. I don't care what the vineyard or vintage it came from is." The waitress smiled grandly. "Oh, and the price can't be more than five a bottle, so don't try shoving the most expensive bottle you have down my throat." At that, the waitress lost a bit of her smile, but five gold for a bottle still wasn't half bad.

"Alright, hun. You jes' wait here and you'll have yer wine." The waitress sauntered off while MetalDrago summoned a small fireball to his fingertip, lighting the candle on the table with it. He held up the envelope and opened it, carefully, with one of his claws. As he removed the paper from the comfort of its original home, he began to read.

Dear, whomever received this letter of invitation...

_______________________________
Less than a week later, MetalDrago was at the dock, waiting for the boat that would take him and the others who received the letters out to the island. MetalDrago had no idea why he'd decided to let this promise of gold and fortune drag him out here, but it was something to distract him from his quest to seek out Terramat. Besides, it sounded easy enough, right? Spend three nights in an old mansion and receive a bounty of gold.

MetalDrago saw two people standing side by side, a little apart from everyone else. They appeared... different, somehow, from the others, and MetalDrago felt compelled to approach them. He drew his cloak tightly around his form, hiding his face completely from view as he did so. He approached them, apprehension apparent in each step he took. He stopped a couple feet away from them (more like five or six) and said, "You two here because of the letter, too?"

[Raimeiken]

... My name is Hamilton Weland and I request your cooperation.

I am a butler in the service of Lord Ferdenand Holmes Bardovo II, an avid explorer and skilled treasure hunter from a faraway country. A few months ago, my lord contracted an incurable illness and has passed away silently in his private manor. Because we have been unable to contact his family due to unknown circumstances, and it is unfortunate that his estate requires a kin to inherit and care for after his passing, I have sent out these letters to invite you to the island manor in order to divide his possessions among trust-worthy and suitable heirs so as to not have these treasures become lost to time.

However, to determine the suitable heirs of his inheritance, I have a few simple requirements each candidates should meet;
- Each candidates must rest within the manor for three days and three nights without leaving prematurely at any time.
- Each candidates will be assigned personal rooms; no two person shall share sleeping quarters with one another or the candidacy become void.
- Each of the remaining candidates will receive the inheritance equally. The size of each person's share will depend on the number of remaining candidates on the fourth day.
- Be on time for each meal of the day.

At present, we are unable to determine the value of our former lord's inheritance. However, it is sizable enough that each candidate will receive a profitable sum for your time.

If you wish to enter, a ferry will be arranged to leave for our former lord's manor at the nearest port. Please meet us at the southeast pier of the city.

- Signed, Hamilton Weland

Setsuna huffed after finishing the letter once more in the midst of the chilling ocean breeze. The black Kitsuna wondered about the letter's contents even now despite how much detail it had given out. There was something odd about the conditions as well as the location, but she could not pin-point what exactly the writer had meant.

She could not believe why she, a demon hunter of the Raimeiken Sword School, would have any reason to be included in this sort of inheritance scramble. Adding to the irritation of not finding any reason for the endeavor, the stinging salty air and piercing wind only worsened her mood.

No matter how you look at it... the genko frowned and stuffed the message back into its envelope. One could clearly see this is a fraud. Why would...

Indeed. Why would they have any need for treasures of a foreign noble? But then again, it was not the demon hunter who decided to endure this mindless trial.

"Don't look so glum, Sets-chan." A fire-hair girl giggled, hugging her moody dark-hair companion as they waited for the ferry to arrive. "Think of it as a vacation break with some treasures thrown in as souvenirs!"

Master Konoka... The black Kitsuna maiden sighed. "In all seriousness, Ojousama, I do not see why we should be involved in this mindless game of trinket-grabbing. We have-"

"-Only a few pieces of gold left for our journeys." Her master interrupted the swordbearer's sentence, causing the latter to pause in surprise.

"...Pardon, milord?"

Konoka pulled out their coin purse and shook it in front of her maid, the tiny metal coins jingling lightly within its cloth confinement.

"We're a little short on money, so getting some extra money will help us continue our journey. Isn't that right?"

Konoka batted her eyes as she peered into her servant's, but her statement illicited a different response than what she expected.

"We're almost out of money?! But- Ojousama! What happened to our savings?!"

"Well, you see..." Konoka blushed and whispered into her friend's ear, causing the other's face to burn red with embarrassment.

"B- P- Please... let us hope no one hears what you just said..."

Setsuna had completely forgotten the two of them were merely girls in a foreign land. Mentally checking the lunar cycle as she remembered from her mother, she realized it was certainly that time of month for something like this to happen... but at such an embarrassing time like this.

-Ugh?!

A sharp glare suddenly appeared on Setsuna's face as she threw an arm in front of her red-hair master and stepped in between her master and the approaching humanoid creature. She could not tell who or what it was, but the voice was decidedly male by human standards. Nonetheless, the Kitsuna swordbearer kept the shirasaya sword sheathed in her left hand close to her side.

"Our business is none of your concern, stranger. If you have business with us, then state it and be done with it."

Setsuna kept her suspicious stare upon the stranger hidden under the cloak, probing the shadows for any signs of threat or any observable markings she could use for later identification. She had heard from rumors that assassins roam the streets even by day in search of bounties... no doubt a rival to her master's family would no doubt have sent some to shadow them as well.

"Ah, actually, yes. Are you here for the ferry to Lord Ferdenand's estate as well?"

The warrior maiden's eyes snapped at her charge in surprise. Revealing their intentions was not what Setsuna had planned in mind until they found the ferry, even then she had plotted to merely scout around for potential threats to her master once they were upon the island. By speaking to a stranger with unknown agendas, the swordbearer felt threatened to be put into a vulnerable position.

Ojousama-! What are you doing?!

[MetalDrago]

MetalDrago watched in amusement as the girl put her hand on her sword and addressed him in such gruff terms. He smiled under his cloak and waited as her eyes attempted to pierce the shadows in his cloak. “My, you’re a spirited one, aren’t you?” he said before the other lady, who happened to be much more well-mannered, spoke to him, something about Lord Ferdenand’s Estate. “Well, yes… I suppose I am going to find that ferry. Fancy that.” To better prove his honesty, he produced the very letter that marked him as an invitee.

The Dragonian smirked underneath his hood at Setsuna, his emerald eyes glowing from within the shadows. He pulled one hand up from within his cloak and pulled the hood back, revealing his face. His emerald eyes shone in the light, and he smiled. “As for you, milady,” he said, the smirk still on his face, “you don’t have to be so defensive about it. I’m not here to hurt anyone. I know you were looking under my hood in order to find some describing characteristic.” He walked a little closer to her and smiled. “This enough for you? I’d imagine it wouldn’t be too hard to describe a silver-scaled male with glowing green eyes to the guards, now would it?”

MetalDrago looked at Setsuna with an almost unreadable expression on his face. He was intrigued by the pair. He turned and looked at the woman who was obviously in charge. “We’ll be travelling together, it seems. Might as well take some time to get to know each other. I’m MetalDrago Scorpio. I’m a wandering warrior, I guess.”

MetalDrago looked at the two women casually, waiting for each of them to introduce themselves. Of course, if Setsuna drew her sword, she’d be in for a bit of a surprise, and MetalDrago’s left hand rested lightly on the hilt of his own sword, hidden by the cloak he wore.

[Raimeiken]

-GH!

Setsuna could not think. A single thought flashed into her mind and that was it - no action, reaction nor impulse. She could not move her hand to draw her sword nor even move a step forward when the draconic man approached her.

-Hayai-!

He was too fast for her, the Black Kitsuna realized in utter shock. She was not even able to predict his outright offensive behaviour; if anything, she was extremely blessed the opposition meant no physical harm.

His burning emerald eyes scorched into her mind.

"It is nice to meet an acquaintence of this journey, Mister Scorpio. We are travellers from a faraway land, therefore I must apologize if my friend has offended you. Her name is Setsuna and mine is Konoka. Again, we are glad to have met a courteous person such as you so early in this ferry."

A warm hand lighted on Setsuna's shoulder, startling from her battle shock. The foxgirl turned to her master, who comforted the girl with a smile. Wordlessly, as there was no words in need of exchange to understand, the sword maiden eased her grip from the sheathed sword.

But the ensuing silence only casted doubt on the maiden's own skills.

I'm sorry, Ojousama...

"Would it be acceptable if we accompany you in this travel?" The radiant Kitsuna smiled politely as she addressed the warrior. "We are not familiar with the territory and would greatly appreciate your guidance."

But before the two Kitsuna could hear the man's response, Setsuna heard someone scoff at them behind her back.

"Ha. Just like I thought. Nothing but a bunch of gold-diggers and beggars. Don't waste our time and just skedadle, you three."

Setsuna spun abruptly at the outrageous statement, angrily gripping the white oak sheath.

"Aha, and a bunch of furries, too. What a disgusting group!" The same person spoke again, holding her nose to an imaginary stench as her peers sneered and laughed.

Filthy curs! Setsuna fumed.

"Uncivil curs!"Boiling blood compelled the black-haired maiden to draw her sword. "I will not allow you to disrespect my master as such-"

However, a calm hand stayed her sword before it could even be unsheathed.

"-?! Ojousama-?! Why-?"

Konoka merely shook her head, eyes pleading her to withdraw from the fight. Setsuna froze in her stance with the mocking words of the accosting party being tossed about in the background. Why did her master stop her? Why is it that she had to bear those tarnishing remarks?

Setsuna, still confused about it all, finally relented and released her hand from the sword's handle.

"Like I said, this ain't the place for the likes of you to just hop on board." The speaker remarked once again, throwing her long brown hair over her shoulder. "Unless you have the letter of invitation from Lord Ferdenand Holmes Bardovo II..." She pulled a white envelope from within her jacket out and waved it in front of the party. "Don't expect to get a free ride on this pleasure cruise."

[Taskmienster]

The southeast pier was unusually quiet for being tied to one of the most influential cities on the entire island of Corone. Commonly the docks would be filled with people, deck hands and crews unloading goods or loading new stock to take to whatever destination the ship was bound for. Port officials would be scurrying about checking freight and looking for illegal merchandise being smuggled in, as well as slaves that could be coming from any number of places – slave trade seemed to be on the rise with the civil wars and national downfalls spreading across Althanas. Next to the officials would be the employees of the port, helping catalogue incoming goods and sorting them, sending them to the respective warehouses and businesses that had ordered the shipments. However, the ant hive of activity that anyone would expect was delayed heavily by the rain, keeping everyone in taverns and bars for the night.

Everyone except one person kept dry. In the rain, drenched from head to toe, was an individual hardly anyone took notice of. In one hand was a nearly empty bottle of what could have been any range of alcohols, from bourbon to rum. For him it was rum though, his wallowing-in-self-pity drink of choice. The bottle rested on an edge against the soaked wooden planks beneath him, his hand wrapped tightly around the neck as if someone was going to try and steal it from him at any time. Overhead a single light post held a lit candle contained inside a glass housing. The light flickered and wavered with every driving wind that brought with it a curtain of rain.

“Fuck’n rain,” the man stammered as he took another swig of the rum and let his head rock back and forth. In his other hand, barely lit by the light overhead, was a letter addressed to “who it may concern”. At that moment, the drunk was sure it concerned him, which is why he was waiting so impatiently for the ferry and whoever else was supposed to go to whatever island the rich, dying prick was on. “Rain rain, go away, come again another day… I can’t even light a cig with you around, so fuck off will ya?”

In response to the man’s demands, the rain suddenly blew through another gust and nearly made the paper fly out of his hands. Bloody rain, the man thought as he pushed the water proof piece of paper inside his jacket. As he took another swig he saw some light flicker from around one of the many ‘taverns’ that lined the docks. They were little more than whore houses for the sea bound merchants and travelers, something to do while not busy on their trade routes. The one the light was rounding, The Hidden Flask was one of the two that the drunken man had been into and promptly kicked out of. Scruffy, loud, drunken visitors were not welcome to come in already drunk… they were preferred to be sober and drink at the expense of the tavern instead.

“Oh me, oh my,” the man said as the group carrying the torch through the torrent appeared. A contingent of individuals dressed in the livery of the newly formed Corone Empire rounded the corner in all their glory. Colors of the upstart governmental cause covered the finely crafted steel chainmail they wore, the emblem of the guard on one shoulder and the Empire on the other. “Someone called the cops? Fuck ‘em, I’m busy.”

They were obviously there for the young man though. Without rhyme or reason they pushed through the rain and were promptly waiting at the feet of the drunken loiterer. “In the name of the Empire we demand to know what reason you remain in this area in this terrible weather. You are greatly requested to move elsewhere after complaints by local establishments. Who are you and why are you here?”

“I, good sir… sirs… am Ethan Calhoun, though you can call me Lars if you feel like it.” The man attempted to rise, slipping on the wet docks and dropping to his backside in a splash of water. Had he been sitting in a puddle? Probably, though the man didn’t know it before then. “As for my business… I’m a man lost in the world of Althanas. I can’t seem to get out of this place, can’t see to get back to my own world. I am, after all, an alien from another dimension.”

The man’s explination and subsequent laughter did little to create any sense of the situation. He instead took another swig from the bottle and shook his head in the most dejected and base way he could. There was no going back; he had found that out quickly enough. Most did not understand anything he said while drunk, since most of what he said was gibberish to the vast majority of Althanas. In truth though, what he attempted to relay to the men was no less the truth. He was a man created of pixilation and advanced computer software, a mere aberration created in a virtual reality world… also known as Althanas. “My reason for bein’ ‘ere, this!”

The man passed the guard the paper that was half crumpled, but not in the slightest way touched by the rain that fell around him. The man who had yet to explain who he was took the note and read it, half muttering to himself as he did so. Was he slow? Who knew, the way he read said a lot to his education level though, not a few times did another guard with him have to help him read the letter. As soon as he was done, and looked around to make sure that the drunken Lars was in the correct place, he handed back the letter. “Then carry on,” the man said with a nod. Collected rain water fell from his bent helmet comically as he bent over and nodded. “Just keep out of the taverns and you’ll be good… though if you don’t sober up I’m sure that you won’t do too keen with the gaining the reward that’s offered.”

“Lemme be the judge of that, good sir!” The belligerent man said as he snatched the letter away and tucked it into the safety of his jacket. He took another swig and smiled a cheeky smirk. “You wouldn’t happen to have an umbrella with ya, wouldja? I could sure use something to cover the rain long enough to light a cigarette. No? I assumed as much… oh well. Have a good night and catch some of ‘em criminals that roam around, I know you guys are experts with that shit.”

[MetalDrago]

MetalDrago smiled easily as the woman who was apparently in charge addressed him easily, and asked if they could accompany him. Unfortunately, that was short-lived. The Dragonian warrior was quite unsurprised when a bunch of racist bastards walked up on them and began issuing remarks of a very unacceptable sort. Her boots clacked, echoing against the dock upon which she was walking. When one of the women brandished a particularly familiar piece of paper, MetalDrago smiled evilly and took out his own. “You can be sure, you peon, that we have our letters. As it happens, I wonder how you got yours. You stole it, I assume?”

MetalDrago heard a couple of others in the group jeer and laugh at MetalDrago's vastly better insult. And to dig a little deeper into the other person's psyche, he added a little something special, “Besides, you're hardly a looker, yourself.” At that, a few of the men behind the woman gasped and turned away, walking very carefully to avoid not only the woman, but the debris being scattered by the wind. It felt like there was a storm making its way to the waterfront. This was not promising at all. At that, MetalDrago was almost certain that the woman had a temper likely to amuse him. She could attack him if she dared. MetalDrago moved his hand, easily placing it over the hilt of his sword, waiting for the woman to make the mistake of attacking him.

His wings were hidden underneath his cloak, so as not to make him appear more ferocious than he actually was, but that didn't stop the decidedly deadly look in his eyes. He wasn't going to start a fight, but he would be more than happy to end it. The woman was worthless in his eyes, at any rate. She might have received the letter, but it made no sense, even as far as that. She was a worthless scoundrel who thought a little too much about her own beauty, and MetalDrago was downright determined to knock her down a few pegs. This was going to be the beginning of a very interesting journey, of that he was absolutely certain.

[Raimeiken]

"Kh-?!"'

The woman took a step back when she saw the white envelope in the Draconian's hand, unblemished by the constant rain not unlike her own. Swearing under her breath at the warrior's remarks, she turned her attention to the two fox girls off to the side as the red-haired one drew out her letter.

"It appears we also have the very same letter, miss." Konoka remarked with a disarming smile whilst Setsuna withdrew to her master's side, apprehensively touching the hilt of her shirasaya sword. The sword-bearer was reluctant to cross the woman, but nevertheless felt threatened by her presence. "So i believe we will see more of each other during our stay. Hajimemashite yoroshiku."

"What?! Don't patronize me with that furry slang of yours!" The woman reeled back a full meter, taken aback by the politeness she received but could not come to accept it as a greeting. "Don't you know who I am?! I..."

The sky was darkened by the approaching storm, saved for the few breaks in the sky which sunlight shone down like spotlights from the heavens. A beam of light comically reached down onto the woman as she stood atop an old crate, pointing her finger at the sky.

"Am Alexandra Marco, daughter of the greatest treasure hunter ever to live in this small country! No matter what treasure there is in this world, my family is sure to have once seen and touched it with our own hands!" She gave out an ostensible display, drawing an applaud from her small band of entourage.

"Therefore~!" She pointed her finger down at the three below, striking a dominating pose with a hand on her hip. "I will be sure to not let the likes of you hinder my quest for treasures from Lord Ferdenand Holmes Bardovo the Second!"

The woman declared her purpose loudly, drawing attention from the few remaining people as they scurried away to find shelter. Some found it amusing for a young lady to be making such an outrageous display while others were too preoccupied with the weather to give her any thought. The sound of approaching raindrops, however, caught the maid's attention and she quickly alerted her master.

"Ojousama. I advise that we seek shelter from the rain, lest you catch a cold." Setsuna relieved her hand from the hidden sword and looked around for a store front awning nearby. Luckily, there was one which overlooked the southeast pier large enough for everyone (minus the human lady's entourage).

The red-haired Kitsuna acknowledged her servant's suggestions and turned to the draconian warrior at their side. "Would you please accompany us to that awning? The rain is fast approaching and it would do us better not to be caught in the rain."

But as they were about to move away, a gust of wind slammed across the waterfront, lifting loose papers and flimsy skirts with the force of a dragon's wingbeat. Amidst the shrieks of surprise, Setsuna caught glimpse of a white letter envelope darting into the sky.

Oh no-! Is that-?!

"Sets-chan~!" The maid immediately heard her master's panicked cry over the rushing wind. "The letter!"

But before she could see it against the darkened sky, it had been blown well beyond her reach.

-Too slow?! Her mind raced, ears and tails twitching in panicking contemplation. No-! Not yet!

Setsuna ran.

The letter fluttered idly as the wind finally died down, but it continued its drift out to sea. In only a few moments it would fly past the last dockside building and nonetheless into the sea, but the Kitsuna saw a chance to catch it before it did. Bursting into a headlong run, she pushed her sword sheath against the cobblestone road and propelled herself onto the side of the building, kicking as hard as she could and reaching out for the letter just as it drifted by.

-Got it! She smiled in triumph as the crunch met her ears, bits of white paper extending beyond her fist signifying the letter's reaquisition. What she forgot, however, was the landing.

"-Ghuh-!" It was a two-meter drop from the sky onto the uneven rocky surface. Luckily for her, there was a pile of thick rope to break her fall but it was still far from a painless landing. The girl threw herself into a roll, but the force of impact shook her thoughts into oblivion before she came to a stop in a pile of rain-drenched crates.

Ughu... at least I have the letter... Setsuna resolved to just lie there for the time being, wondering if she had bruised her ribs.

[Taskmienster]

“Only one problem,” the guard commented with a smirk as he started to step away. “That ferry is going to land at the south east pier; you happen to be at the north east one. You should get moving down to the south if you wanna catch it.”

Perhaps it was that the paper was wet, yet peculiarly unblemished that caught the attention of the drunkard. Or perhaps it was the simple fact that the reward for the mansion was far less interesting than lighting a cigarette at the time. Whatever the case was, without a second thought the man removed the paper once again, tucked a cigarette in his mouth under the make-shift umbrella, and flicked his zippo. Lars felt as if he had crossed the finish line of an all out sprint, a split seconds before his opponent. The acrid scent of burnt tobacco filled the air as soon as he finally let out the smoke, the sweet release of an ideologically perfect nicotine buzz coursing through his body. He inhaled another long drag, never letting his pursed lips loose enough for the butt to fall.

How long had it been? How long had he been sitting there, much less trapped on the world of Althanas? Neither question could be answered, at least not by a mind lost in a self-created miasma of drunken confusion. Only the second question really mattered to him anyway, the question of his entrapment was one that was paramount. Ethan had toyed with the reality of the world, had long since come to the conclusion that he did not have the means or intelligence to understand the issue from the inside. For all intensive purposes, and it was this fact alone that made him laugh at the problem, he really was an alien from another universe.

“Damn hacks, damn job, god-damned Althanas!”

The words were spewed with ragged breath as he attempted to still a coughing fit. The world around him was an illusion, and he the sole disillusioned. It was a temporal anomaly created by technology, that much he was sure of without a doubt in his mind. However, explaining his circumstances was much more difficult than just saying that he was in a game. To him Althanas was a computer program, one with lines of codes and the undeniable ability to make him hate his life. It had been one month, five days, and three hours since he had found himself ‘stuck’ on the server. That long ago he had logged into Althanas, coming in through a backdoor he had created, and had gone on a small excursion with a friendly little lass in the Raiaeran Red Forest. After his fun, he had tried to log off, return to the world of Earth and true reality, but had found that there was no such return to be had.

“Did they close the backdoor? Do they know I’m here and what I’m doing?”

TechFront, the rival company to the virtual reality corporation that he worked for, had been on his trail since he had forced his way to the world. His pay raise and promotion within his company, GramVR, put him at the top of the corporate ladder. The youngest Chief Programmer ever hired for any company, and yet that did him no good if he was the one inside and the dolts he worked with were looking in. TechFront had been searching for him, attempting to remove him for the better part of three months prior to his unwanted stay. The administration and moderator teams had been unsuccessful, and perhaps still were maintaining their lack of success day after day. With the only way in and out inaccessible, however, Lars highly doubted that they were not the ones that were behind the extended stay.

He took another drag of his cigarette and slowly stood, his weight being partially put on the thick glass bottle in his free hand. A sudden gust and the paper was tossed about, allowing rain to fall on his sharp features and as close to his cig as the metal stud that punctured his bottom lip. Without thinking he pulled the paper closer, almost balling it up. The edge caught the ember ending and sizzled and cracked with the heat touching whatever slick substance kept it waterproof. A quick movement and the paper was forced in the muddy puddle he had once occupied, but so was his cigarette.

“To hell with it.”

He kicked the puddle, sending a spray of water and city refuse through the air. The rain may have had a nearly magical influence over cleaning the material faults of the city, but the hacker had the opposite influence with spreading it once again. His precious cigarette was laying on its side, drenched and on the safety of a raised cobblestone. Only a moment passed between thoughts of picking it up and trying again before he turned instead, walking to find and board the ferry the guards had told him was coming to the docks at a different location. Hopefully the others that were accompanying him, though he hoped for none, would not be too unopposed to the drunk.