Conference of Criminals

[Alydia Ettermire]

Prequel to the Train Heist. Closed to the bad guys.

Alydia Ettermire sat in Bron Retla’s living room, poring over maps, itineraries and schematics. While this was exactly like her, usually her former sometimes-informant and current trusted confidante would either be putting the plan in motion, helping her fine-tune her intentions, research her target, or at least trying to mitigate the damage she was going to do to herself.

Today, the rusty-eyed Alerian glowered at his ebony-skinned friend from across the room. It had been years since she dared attempt something so heinous, so horrible, so dreadfully stupid as the heist she was gearing up for. Rather, he was all but certain that if she intended to go on her own, she would be fine. Thwarted, perhaps, but Aly’s antics had yet to warrant serious attention from any of the serious powers on Althanas, and he would like to keep it that way.

The others she was gearing up to meet, though…?

“Tell me what I need to know about the people I’m going to meet, Bron.” The sultry voice wound absently from amidst the pile of parchments and books that covered what had been his couch and table, and the information dealer’s mouth twisted once again into a scowl.

“Alydia, this is not a good idea. I would advise that you pull out of this insane venture immediately. Compared to what these people have done, and what they’re willing to do, you are -”

“The best thief in the world,” she interrupted calmly. “The Cursed Swordsman and the Sand Dancer are responsible for keeping them busy and thwarting them. Just so long as I get what I’m after. Who am I meeting?”

Bron sighed. “It was one thing for you to go to Fallien in search of a Tear of Fallen Kings. I even sent you some help. But to look for one on a train headed through the Twilit Mountains? Alydia, I have not heard of this, and so it doesn’t exist.”

“It does. I went and checked it out myself a little less than a tenday ago. It is a Tear. I couldn’t get it then, so I need the distraction. No one knows what to do with a Tear. The Book of Secret Histories provides some hints, and legend says it’s either a powerful purative device or a powerful weapon. If it’s a powerful weapon, I sure as hell don’t want Alerar having it so close to Raiaera’s borders. If it can purify the land, it’s better in the hands of the Old Elves. Or in my hands, if I can figure out how to work it. Who. Are. My. Cohorts?”

The olive-skinned elf let out a deep breath through his nose. “The person who called the conference is a man known in these parts as Lyesmith. A little background research on him revealed his true identity as a tiefling named Aurelianus Drak’shal. I believe he needs no further introduction. The second is a mercenary known as Marduk the Black. He seems like a particularly sadistic sort, but I turned up little on him. The last is Catherine Remi.”

He watched impassively as the scarlet-sheathed shoulders tensed and heard the hiss sneak past clenched teeth. Remi needed no introduction either.

“Now will you reconsider this foolishness? Before you get yourself killed? I’ve been in contact with Sintta, Lore, Paige, Deag, Zaki, Hikiko, and Lyusya. We are all in agreement that whatever you intend to do is not worth your life. If there is anyone you should heed on this matter, Alydia Derahel, it is Sintta Ilya.”

A blue eye glared at Bron from beneath the broad brim of a large fedora. “I may alter my plans. Perhaps. But I will not cancel them.” Tan texts and beige paper were consumed by shadow and vanished in an instant, leaving behind a brown couch and mahogany table in room that was comfortable, if spartan. A lithe female figure rose to her full height. A rustle echoed through the room as her coat flicked in her wake.

Alydia Ettermire had decided, and she was off.


~*~*~

The Ssa’s Hoills was a rundown dive on the edge of Ettermire. The dilapidated building had been condemned from the time Aly was a little girl, but still it stood. Law enforcement - not even Karliik, nor her in her more lawful past - dared set foot beyond its threshold. To do so was to invite death. Even now, her scarlet ensemble brought threatening glares from criminals who had met her in another life.

She paid them no mind, soft-soled boots treading silently on worm-eaten floorboards, leaving no mark in the thick dust to record her passage. She headed for the prearranged table, though it was empty. So much the better; the first to arrive got the good seat. On her way, she motioned to the bartender, holding her hand up. Two fingers and her thumb pointed lazily ahead of her, then a twist of her wrist brought her hand so that the palm faced the grizzled one-eyed, black-skinned elf who ran the establishment.

He spat; he’d lost a cousin to one of her investigations not half a century prior, but she was Bron Retla’s. He was not a man to trifle with. The former detective’s silent motions were rewarded with two bottles of malt liquor and another two of heady red wine, which she swiped with a casual motion and exchanged for a few pieces of gold.

She took the chair at the wall. The half-demon was well-known for his armed and armored coat, and the others could simply pay the price for arriving after she did. The drinks she put in the center of the table; let the others pick their poison. As for herself, she claimed a bottle of wine, but waited to open it. There would be a time for it…

When the Conference of Criminals convened.

[Marduk the Black]

Boisterous laughter erupted from a table as men stood up and peered over each other at the spectacle. Two muscle bound men held their elbows on the table as their forearms tensed. One man had his hand in a simple leather glove, his ebony skin betraying his race. He glowered at the man who seemed to merely grin at the intimidating display. He seemed calm and collected for a man whose arm was slowly being worked backwards towards the rough wood of the table. Coins were changing hands as the treasure pot grew.

None of that mattered to the newcomer. In a bar that sought to erase anyone who came into it for being the wrong race, this man had proven more, resilient. They had tried to scare him off, only to be laughed off and told to buy him a drink. They had tried to put acid in his flagon to send him home with a torn out throat, only to find it didn’t harm the man one wit. One had drawn a knife, only to see the man tell him that it was ‘no wonder the ladies avoided him with a useless tool like that’.

That was when the men knew he was one of them. He had taken their best shots and shrugged them off like so much rain. It let them ease up; knowing one of their own was amongst them a gutter rat that knew survival and strength were the keys to victory in this shithole they called Ettermire. Soon it had come down to one of the oldest cons they knew, if they couldn’t take his life, maybe a bit of gold. They had set up an arm wrestling contest between him and their best, a man known for results. So this enigmatic man found himself fending off the strength of the self-proclaimed Gul’dukat.

From what everyone could see Gul was giving the man his best and was slowly inching the man backwards. He merely kept that grin up, as if everything was according to plan. As the newcomers arm torqued back to the near-loss the grin widened. A foot reached out to feel for a chair, only to realize it had shifted away and the arm tensed for the first time. A cry filled the air as Gul’dukat’s arm wrenched backwards in the span of a second slamming hard against the wood. The pot carefully plucked up before he tossed a couple of bronze coins to his opponent, “For the healer, I may have sprained your elbow with that one. Consider it a small mercy for trying to kick my chair before I won.”

The room was quiet as Gul’dukat’s groans of pain echoed through the bar before he grinned and chuckled. A hand slapped down on the bronze before he spoke up, “You’re alright for an outsider, what do I call you?”

“Marduk the Black,” The reply was simple and offered with as much enthusiasm as one would have for the weather. He counted the pot before pocketing it and hearing an odd silence. All the men seemed to tense as one when they saw a Drow woman enter the place.

A wide brimmed hat, the same red as her coat hid her eyes as she looked about and signed to the tender for drinks. Silence reigned as everyone watched her and Marduk could feel the threat of violence, looming and ripe to pluck. He watched with an interested smirk while the tender gave her a look that seemed to scream his desire for blood before he reached up and plucked a few bottles from his reserve. The slapping of the bottles down spoke volumes of the animosity the man had for the woman before she moved back to a cleared table. She sat down ignoring the daggers glaring in her direction even as she looked over the bottles and plucked one out for herself.

“What’s her story? Why hasn’t anyone taken a swing at her yet?” Marduk tossed to Gul’dukat.

“She was a constable for Ettermire ‘til she joined up with Bron Retla. She put a lot of my friends in the clink for a spell or two. Some didn’t make it back out,” The Drow replied.

Marduk chortled, “Bron Retla? You mean to tell me someone like that keeps an eye out for a weakling like her?”

“She’s not weak Marduk, don’t get me wrong. You get your hands on her you’ll destroy her, the problem is she hasn’t given anyone the chance to grab her.”

“So she’s a coward too. This just gets more entertaining to watch,” chairs shifted at the Shaman’s proclamation.

“No, she’s smart, touching her is as good as ending up in a gallows. Your feet will be kicking by dawn. Even if the Watch Chief has a bounty on her, he wouldn’t take too kindly to someone offing her. There’s no telling what would happen to the unlucky fuck that got caught by the coppers if they were found beating her up. The gallows might seem a mercy at that point.”

Eyebrows rose, “Both sides protecting her? What is she, some kind of saint?”

“She’s Alydia Ettermire, and if you’re gonna be sticking around here for long, you better get to know about her. She’s got the politics of this place in a knot because of her turncoat,” Gul’dukat finished. He patted Marduk on the shoulder before he said, “I’m getting out of here, before the drink and my temper get the best of me.”

Marduk tapped the back of his hand on the man’s arm before he said, “What was her name again?”

“Alydia Ettermire, you can’t possibly think you’re gonna walk up to her do you?”

“She’s my appointment,” The man said as he grinned. A clawed gauntlet was secured over his hand as he did so. The men about him were eyeing him with suspicion even when he flexed his hand seeing the metal plates articulate into a serrated claw. He kept that lazy grin on his face as he grabbed his helmet and walked over to the table. The helmet slammed down with a clang before he sat down heavily and grabbed a bottle of the hard liquor looking at it. With a practiced maneuver the bottle top was off and he let it clatter upon the table breaking the silence even as he took a draught of the alcohol.

Once the bottle was placed down he looked at it before he said, “Not as hard as the Lavinian shit, but decent in its own way. So when’s the big guy coming in?”

[Requiem of Insanity]

It stank of booze and ignorance within the wooded walls of the establishment. The fact she could smell the latter was a strong indicator of how hard some fought to forget their troubles and let go. Hours earlier a bar fight had erupted between a noisy crying human and a very agitated Orc who just wanted to drink in peace. It was actually the Orc that showed compassion, asking the guy to quiet it down, a seat at his table to talk about his woes, a round to silence his wailing. But none of these things the human wanted. So the Orc figured he wanted a black eye and a nap.

The human grabbed the Orc's extended fist and slammed him into a table, punching him over and over until the cedar flooring had a new color that matched the raggedy, molding rug placed lazily in front of the door for people to ignore wiping their feet on. Why did the human do this? Apparently his wife and kids had been killed by Orcs hours before. Turned out the raid was on the wrong village. Lots of innocents died. Which was why the Orc decided to drink the shame away.

Funny how fate is so deliciously cruel, Aerith Remi thought in the corner of the room.

She sat immobilized in a tiny wheelchair, chains shackled to the hand grips that led to a woman with hair as white as snow. She sat next to the first of the Remi children, a small drink in her hands that she mulled over with twirling motions, sipping gently every now and then. This one was the daughter of Seth Dahlios; kidnapped during the Night Of Debauchery and brought into the fold of the Cult of Blessed Torture.

It was a long process of turning her against her father, but somehow, through patience, mind games, and a little push here and there, Samantha Dahlios began to resist her punishment less and less, gripping the hand rails and pushing Aerith around in her chair like she wanted to. Last night Aerith removed the chains completly. Samantha was still there, for she did not run. Instead, she asked to rest on the bed. Aerith allowed this, even rubbing her sore wrists from where she was imprisoned. She let Samantha rest, letting her rest while she did her homework on this supposed Conference of Criminals.

There was no calculated risk here, for the Cult kept eyes on Aerith at all times. As a member of the Dark Family she was offered superior protection, as well as her mother's wit and guile. One may think to allow Samantha freedom would result in her attacking, fighting for freedom, or even rushing away in the middle of the night. But she wouldn't get far before the Hommonculi she had placed as a back up guardian grabbed her. And should she evade that, there was many, many miles of Cult worshiping territory before she could find a safe house. Even the vaunted Ixian Knights' castle couldn't protect her before. Even the Lavinian Demon himself couldn't protect her. In the morning, while Aerith was in bed, Samantha awoke, turned to her, and said she was ready whenever Aerith was to help her bathe.

How that must chafe the demon so.

How Aerith came upon the train heist was purely based on the vast network of informants she had in the underworld. Mother never really enjoyed the intrigue and duplicity of spy games, but Aerith had much more patience than her mother. As a botanist, patience was not just a virtue, but a necessity. Empowered by her mother's more rational secretive ways when she became a Demi God the game only became just that. Something fun to play, and a severely lacking in challenges.

Her head tilted sideways as she grinned. Perhaps their was one challenger in the form of Rayse Valantino, head of a criminal organization ring who could keep his steps ahead of hers. But there was no reason for the Cult and his benefactors to come to blows. Yet.

She looked over the documents her Cultists had dug up on this little operation, the Cult tossing their hat into the ring alongside this Alydia, Aurelianas, and the relatively unknown Marduk the Black. Once people knew the Remi's personally involved themselves there were no other takers. In some way that made her giddy to think that the fear her mother instilled in others prevented even the movements of the underworld. She grabbed her water and drank a few sips to cleanse her thoughts. Business first.

Alydia was a Dark Elf of no small repute in the underworld. Though mostly brags about how she could steal anything, her mother always did say there is a measure of truth to every lie. Even rumors can be led to a conclusion if enough presented themselves. And that had. No matter how grand the item was, no matter how insane the gig was, there was a constant in all the stories. She was good, quick, and only went after things of intangible value. Artifacts that were priceless and useless to actually try and pawn. That indicated to Aerith she had ideals, and taste. This woman loved her plans and when her sources mentioned where they would meet to discuss details Aerith fell in love with her instantly. They would get along just fine.

For Marduk, there wasn't much. Though he was the first to make it known he was looking for the Conference. He seemed powerfully built, but who wasn't on Althanas nowadays? There was a streak of malevolence to him, but something pulled the strings. Either he was shackled to a faith in something, or perhaps it had broken and he was trying to fill that void. No answers yet in the short time she had to research him. He could be a powerful pawn for the Cult if tamed properly, but should he prove to ignorant to the ways of her mother and fight against her, well...There was yet a challenge her brother Draug couldn't handle.

Aurelianas Drak'Shal was a Tiefling, spy for the Red Hand, and infiltrator in the Ixian Knights. In fact, he was the one who set up the details to begin with alerting his people to be in on this hot ticket. He was assigned the guard duty to the train alongside the Ronin Taka and the champion of the Cell, Astarelle Set'Roh. The woman's named broke a grin into the corner of Aerith's mouth. She supposed she could hire a whore to deal with her.

It had seemed everyone was starting to come together. Aerith looked to Samantha, who smiled to her, weakly as if she wasn't sure why she was, and stood pushing the wheelchair forwards. Aerith placed the papers into her lap neatly and placed her hands in a neutral position on them. When she arrived to the table she looked to her companions with empty smiles, and reached for a simple glass of water.

"You may drink," she whispered to Samantha. The girl looked at the bottles, then with her chained wrists she reached for the Lavinyan Ale and poured a tumbler. Aerith took a sip of her drink and looked to the Dark Elf, waiting for the opportune moment to begin idle chit chat with her, then with Marduk, until the Tiefling arrived.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

Aurelius knew he was being followed.

After a childhood spent thriving in the nightmarish slums of his home-city, and then in every vicious back-alley, plane and den of iniquity he came across, it was almost an insult to him. That someone would have the audacity to try and hunt him? It would almost be funny.. if it wasn't Ettermire. Arrogant as he was, the half-demon knew he had to tread lightly. Swanra'ann was still out for his blood, a year after his first sojourn to Alerar's capital - one didn't give the Queen of The Pit the laugh without incurring some severe backlash. And she was one of the few bloods Aurelius was wary of. Shrugging his battered coat higher on his bladed shoulders, the tiefling clamped a cigarette between his pale lips and lit it with a small lick of Hellfire in his cupped palms. Twin trails of smoke slithered from his nostrils as he lowered the brim of his capotain, keeping his more unique features hidden from casual scrutiny.

The tiefling didn't let on that he had marked the man some distance behind him, continuing on his merry way through the smog-shrouded capital. Lifting a small pocket-watch from inside his coat, liberated earlier this evening from some poor sod who should have paid better attention to his surroundings, the half-breed was surprised to see he was going to arrive at the meeting point early.

First time for everythin', eh? he mused with a small grin.

Parking his ears as he turned off the main thoroughfare, he was pleased to hear the faintest hint of foot-steps trying to match his. It was a good effort. Might even have worked, if the man was tracking anyone else. But one couldn't sneak up on someone who lived and breathed paranoia since he was old enough to walk. Granted, even with the heightened senses gifted to Aurelianus by his fiendish blood, it wasn't easy picking up anything over the horrendous reek and roar of industry ringing through Ettermire. Even at this hour it seemed the factories didn't let up in their production and enormous chimneys belched thick coils of black smoke into the sky, making it hard to tell if the sun had already set. His hob-nailed boots sloshing through shallow puddles of murky, polluted water, the tiefling made his way down the lane, tall walls of sweating, discoloured stone flanking him.

Steam pipes just overhead gasped like emphysemic lungs, expelling clouds of noxious steam into the small lane. It was all the cover the guttersnipe needed. As he continued stalking deeper into the alleyway, he unbuckled the front of his armoured coat, freeing up access to the myriad weapons hanging from his wolf-lean frame. His hand was just drifting to the new knife hanging from his belt--

"Wouldn't do that, if I were you," a voice called from behind the warlock.

His horned head whipped round, the cigarette dropping into the puddles underfoot, fangs bared. Three men stood blocking the alley; two of them were ruddy-skinned elves with crossbows levelled at Aurelius; the only human, who had spoken, wore beaten and well-worn leather armour, and held a flintlock pistol in his hand casually. The original tail appeared a heartbeat later through the steam, grinning viciously and holding his own crossbow ready. He nodded to the other three men, and Aurelianus cursed inwardly as he realised how much of a berk he'd been.

Well, aren't you a pikin' leather'ead? he chastised himself. He had been too preoccupied with the prospect of an easy kill, he'd let himself ignore the chance the man wasn't alone. And now here he was, head in the noose. You're slippin' mate. Let some little group of muggers catch you unawares. The apparent leader of the ragtag group ran a hand through his neat little beard, and stirred Drak'shal from his musings.

"Now, be a good lad and take that hat off, would you?"

He waved the pistol at Aurelius, showing he wasn't in a patient mood. The tiefling, trying to keep his rage at himself in check, did as he was asked. He awaited the normal surprise or unease at the first sight of his demonic features.. but instead, all of the mens' grins got wider. It was then he tumbled to the truth of the situation.

"Aurelianus, isn't it?" the man asked rhetorically.

The warlock ran his forked black tongue over his fangs, serpentine eyes darting between the weapons pointed at his head.

"Well, we just couldn't be happier to meet you, friend," the man continued. "Swanra'ann has offered a very pretty price for you, and me and my associates here are eager to collect. So, be a good lad, behave yourself and come along quiet."

His smile was like an open wound.

"'ow'd you find me then, cutter?" Aurelius asked, standing up straighter, his posture calm. "Skinner put out word I was back in this burg?"

He brought his hand to his mouth and another cigarette appeared between his lips - simple sleight of hand, less likely to get him shot in the face than reaching for the case openly. He lit it, eyeing the men from the corner of his eye as he invoked the tiny spark of Hellfire.

"Nah, she don't know. Bardin spotted you coming out of the Ssa's Hoills this morning," one of the elves guffawed, jerking his head at the human.

"Shut it, Glim," the leader barked. "What difference does it make how we found you, devil boy? Fact is, we did, and now we get that bounty and the Lady's favour."

"'Devil boy'? Aye, real original. Terribly 'urtful and all that," Aurelius replied dead-pan, breathing a stream of smoke from around the cigarette. "So, what you're tellin' me, Bardin, is you're the only ones that know I'm in town?"

Bardin started to feel slightly uncomfortable. Here Aurelius was, facing four loaded weapons, surrounded, cornered and outnumbered. And yet, there he was, smoking away and not showing any panic. This wasn't how these things were supposed to go.

"Yeah. So what?"

The tiefling's lips split back in a nasty smile, his eyes flashing lambently in the gloom.

"And you only brought four men?"


***

By the time Aurelius shouldered through the door of the Ssa's Hoills, he was running much later for the meeting than he had been.

The place was busy, and the tiefling was hit by a wall of heat, and the stink of sweat and blood and booze. He welcomed it like an old friend, and made his way through the crowd. People tried bumping him deliberately - some of them probably pickpockets, others just arseholes - but the majority of them drew back bloodied hands from the jag-sharp blades and barbs poking through his coat from the armour underneath.

Yet another cigarette burned away its brief existence between his pale lips, and with one glance around, he marked every cutter in the room. None of them seemed to pay any more than scant attention to the half-breed, allowing him to breathe a silent sigh of relief. He had made sure to thoroughly interrogate Bardin before he finished toying with the man, but being surrounded by the collected scum of the city, he was happier knowing the Skinner was probably still not clued in to his presence in her domain. The bartender caught his eye and jerked a thumb to the table on the far side of the room. A wry grin slid over his patrician features as he saw the clear space around the small gathering - obviously even these twats were canny enough to stay away from the group. Passing the bar, Aurelius grabbed a spare cleaning rag.

He sauntered superciliously through the crowd and emerged at the table. All eyes turned to meet his arrival as he wiped the red smears from his hands, and the sleeves of his coat.

"Late to me own party," he chuckled, blowing smoke from his nostrils as he took the last empty chair at the table. Tossing the rag on to the knife-scarred table, he let his eyes wander over the ones who had answered his summons. A mismatched lot, eh? he thought to himself. His eyes lingered on the females for a fraction longer than the only male besides him, examining every curve and inch of exposed flesh lasciviously.

"Last appointment ran late," he smirked wickedly, producing a silver hip-flask from inside his coat and taking a belt of the T'keela stored inside. His nose streamed smoke into the already smoke-hazed air of the dive. With a lazy stretch of the neck, releasing audible pops, Aurelius made himself comfortable in the chair. His bladed armour tore gouges in the wood, but where it sliced through the leather of his coat, the material simply sealed itself again. Reclining languidly, he took the plethora of knives from his arsenal and started cleaning the viscous red from the blades.

"So, 'ave we all made introductions? C'mon now, be nice. We're all mates 'ere, aren't we?"

His subtly serrated fangs beamed at the small group.

[Alydia Ettermire]

“Don’t clean your weapons at the table, Mr. Lyesmith.” The lone Alerian at the table reached out a hand, touching the tip of her finger to the tip of one of Aurelianus’s horns. All blood vanished from his person and property, and a flick of her wrist sent it splashing to the already blood-soaked floor. “It’s uncouth.”

“As far as introductions go, this is a business meeting. If anyone at this table does not know who all the rest are, he is not worthy of his place in this venture.” Crimson lips curved upward, and her right hand twisted so it faced up, fingers delicately extended to the half-demon in invitation.

“So, since we’re all aware of who the others are, why don’t you tell us to what point and purpose you have requested our presence?”

The tiefling grinned through pointed teeth again, chuckling out a cloud of billowing smoke. His mouth opened, then shut, barbed tongue rasping against the roof of his mouth. He had planned this endeavor with all the love, care, and deviousness in his shriveled black heart, but now he couldn't remember it however hard he wracked his brain. Something to do with trains?

His eyes narrowed slightly, and the thief’s sardonic smile turned into a very pointed smirk. “I see. Very well, I’ll tell us.”

She reached out and grabbed the bottles remaining on the table, relegating them neatly to the side, then held her loosely-cupped hand slightly above the chipped and scarred wood. Tendrils of shadow flickered from beneath her palm, gently placing a map on the table. Lines, drawn lightly in chalk and graphite, covered the area from the border with Raiaera, converging on Ettermire.

“I took the liberty of drawing up some of my own plans for this heist. This is, after all, my area of expertise.” She withdrew a whistle from within her pocket, setting it down on the city.

“Tomorrow afternoon, after the final checks have been performed and everything is in readiness, a train will depart the city and head east. Aboard is roughly a ton of black powder contained in a very tightly secured car.”

She tapped the table twice in front of Aurelianus, leaving a very tiny patch of black dust in front of him. “I may have liberated a pinch or two when I went to see just what we’re dealing with. If you will?” She tilted her hat at the powder, and the tiefling ignited it with a flick of his fingers and a satisfying little boom that left a scorch on the table.

“The train is guarded by the mercenary faction of the Ixian Knights, led by an Akashimian swordsman by the name of Taka, and accompanied by another Ixian Officer named Astarelle Set’Roh. As Mr. Lyesmith here knows them personally, he’ll tell us more about them in a moment. Ordinarily, I would sneak aboard the train, wait quietly for a while, then take what I wanted and leave.” She waved a hand dismissively. “I do not believe that will be an effective tactic on this heist; the Ixians are alert and prepared for an assault. It is an Alerian government vessel headed dangerously close to Raiaera, and the darthiiris will be watching, despite the blight on that area. Nevertheless, the train will be at its most vulnerable while it is in transit, so we must strike while it is moving.”

She slid the whistle from Ettermire to a hilly range. “The foothills of Kachuk have plenty of places to hide, and if we push our horses, we can get there ahead of the train. Of course, I assume your sister will make her own way to join us,” she addressed the Remi girl, looking directly at her. “But I have horses waiting for myself and Marduk when this meeting is adjourned. Naturally, there are other plans merely a word away from being put into action if this one does not suit you all. Once aboard, your jobs are to get the powder car clear of people. I will take the whole thing, and we can set up a rendez-vous point.”

Alydia leaned back a little bit. “Assuming you all know my reputation, you know that I have little interest in or use for something as banal as black powder. To forestall your questions, what I am after is a little farther back in the train, far less useful to you and far more valuable to some.”

The fingers of her left hand flicked, calling forth a sheet of vellum. “There is a statuette aboard that train known as Lil Salkin Winress or Tel’Wen Salka. The Dancing Maiden. It dates back to just before the time the two nations split, and of course each nation claims it. Alerar can replace gunpowder. Lil Winress is unique and invaluable. If I have it, I will be pursued, which lets the rest of you have your powder and your escape.”

She tapped the tiefling again with a languid motion, returning his own plans and machinations to him. “Questions, comments, concerns, alternate plans?”

[Marduk the Black]

“If the Ixians are aboard that train, then I have a proposed change of plans,” Marduk replied before he took a large draught of his drink, “I get aboard that train as a potential passenger. They don’t know me, you don’t know me, and don’t lie and say you do. As far as things go, I’ve remained silent and hidden for a damn long time. This crazy bitch is the closest one to having an inkling about what I am and what I do,” A thumb jerked at Aerith before he stood up and leaned over the map.

A clawed finger tapped a couple of places, “These are passenger carts. I can imagine the Ixians would make the most of this situation, try to move supplies with them, maybe a few of their contemptible doctors. If the Dark Blade really is there he’s got a track record for efficiency when it comes to protecting the goods. Expect them to be on every car, and expect them to have some way of flagging the other cars to warn of trouble. You need someone on the inside to figure out the signal system and break it down from the inside.”

He scanned his audience with a look of a predator on the hunt. His eyes drank in their details cataloguing anything of note. The drow was typical of her race. Pushy and a drama whore, why say something simply when you can make a theatrical release out of the sentence? She was everything he had been warned about. She probably had a man or two in waiting in case the meeting turned sour. The Tiefling was being obvious about being armed. That meant he never relied on the daggers they were likely a hobby of his.

Much in the same way murder was a hobby for monsters like the three at this table. Anyone could kill, it took a truly demented being to turn killing into art. If this was a Remi, in some small way Marduk might be auditioning for their little group, not that he gave two shits about some crazy ass bitch with delusions of grandeur. The people she attracted as enemies, those were the interesting lot. Of course since this was against the Ixian Knights it only made sense the Cult would be throwing in against them, in some childish game of one upsmanship.

With that he looked at the girl who was timidly drinking the Lavinian ale. He gave her a once over for danger, then for looks. She was passable for certain, probably some whore child that was enslaved by the Cult of Blessed torture. Not that he gave two shits, slavery was just another form of his religious maxims, Strength in all forms. With a derisive snort he looked back at the others and spoke, “While I don’t have any doubts horny here would be able figure out the system himself, being able to eradicate enough links before setting off the alarm will be a problem. Also, if links are being eradicated in two places it hides what the true goal is. Are we after the gunpowder, the statue, or the Ixians themselves? With such a target rich environment we get to play a shell game, and with luck we get all three prizes at the end of the day.”

His eyes moved to each of them before he spoke, “Let’s say we add in a bit more to this game, have Birdgirl hit another weak point. We strike enough nerves and we’re bound to reduce their plans to one gigantic clusterfuck. Given horny and my proclivities, we’d be right at home in that mess. It gives Birdgirl a chance to get somewhere and actually do something worth telling ma about, and good for less here can work on the statue in peace. By the time they’re done sorting us three out we have the drow as a sucker punch they never realized was there. She does her thing, maybe offs a guy or two to pad her already illustrious kill count, and we’re all home for brews and whores by the end of the week after we’ve dodged the heat of the Alerian Military.”

Perhaps the potshot at Alydia was unwarranted, but he hated elves, always had since he was forced to endure the ego that was Kyr Kaital. A mage that couldn’t keep his mouth shut, he was certainly talking when he pretended that he was casting the spell that banished Marduk. Joke was on him though, Marduk was free, and he had never repented. If and when he found whoever Kaital had fucked into existence, he’d be sure to make them suffer so bad even Kyr would feel it beyond the grave. He took a seat and another drag of his bottle he then gave a smug grin to Alydia as he spoke;

“You think ‘ol Retla would be able to swing that? Or should we just hang this up right here because we know I’m right?”

[Requiem of Insanity]

Oh how the pissing match had already began in earnest. Aerith watched everyone at the table with very confidant, pleasant eyes. As expected, Alydia had a plan, and no doubt several more plans that she wasn't sharing. Marduk, the relative unknown, had shown just about all the cunning one of his brain power could muster. Stating the obvious was really a low brow point of mention, and Aerith had pondered if she should belittle the man's ideal.

"Of course your plan seems solid," Aerith said happily to Marduk, nodding to him in appreciation. "To sever a mighty foe that's well defended, the Cult has used similar tactics. To divide and conquer has been a winning strategy since the demon wars many years ago. Striking the threat in multiple vital areas will no doubt bring us victory," She smiled over to Alydia. "But for who?"

There was a soft pause as Aerith took a sip of her drink. "Naturally, someone has to volunteer to keep Taka and his mercenary company at bay. As for the statue, that will be guarded by the champion of the Cell no doubt. A wildcard in Astarelle. I have compiled a report of her skills and have field analysis on her strengths and weaknesses." Samantha quickly pulled a folder out from the back of Aertih's wheelchair, placing it gently on the table and sliding a copy to each member at the table. "These results have come from my brother Draug as well as my loving sister Catherine."

"Then of course the gunpowder should be considered as well. But for the sake of time and argument, let's just assume we deal with the situation in this proposed method," Aerith flashed a bright smile to them all, lifting out a large map from her stack of papers, unfolding it with Samantha's help. The chains around her wrist clinked against one another and chipped some of the cups as she stretched to fold the map out. "Here we are. The train starts here," Aerith pointed to the large 'S' that was around the depot.

"We will board as normal with several Cultists already infiltrated as train hands. The conductor happens to have a child that went missing. In exchange for her return he promised to get a few members boarding passes. But these Cultists are just the distraction. They will be fodder, going for the gun powder and taking whatever they can down with them. Their goals and objectives can be malleable to whatever needs you all have."

Aerith lifted up a snack from the table, a rich red colored apple, her grin dark and chilling. "Kill them if it suits your needs, they have made peace with Mother's needs." Aerith took a bite, letting the juice of the apple dabble her cheek. She wiped it away neatly and moved on. Lifting her hand to the map. "After the second tunnel they will make their move on the objective. By the time they create their distraction the third tunnel will come along. During this time, dear Alydia, you should be able to easily get into the compartment with the statue. The cult has no need for it so good luck to you on that." Aerith lifted up some carefully loaded pictures and spread them along the sides of the mountain pass.

"From the end of the third tunnel, Marduk and Aurelianus will be knee deep in blood, but no doubt the stubborn Ixians will keep fighting. That's when my dear sister flies in and attacks the train with her elite unit. They will sow panic and disruption in the passenger cart. Innocents will be ripped out of their seats through windows, some families may become broken, but such is life. The Ixians will be stuck between three choices. Defend the statue, defend the gun powder, or defend the weak. Knowing Sei's tendencies, this will grant Marduk and Aurelianus the break they need to steal the powder, Alydia to escape with her goods, and a train full of blood that eerily will dock at the end of the line, corpses strewn in a happy bow tie to remind the Ixians never to deal with the Cult again."

Aerith let her teeth sink into the apple again, her eyes shining brightly with malefic thoughts as she ripped the skin from the apple and smiled. "How is that for a plan?"

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

The tiefling sat back in his chair, his eyes flicking back and forth between the assembly seated before him as he tried to ignore the hubbub of the crowded bar behind him. Letting a cloud of smoke seep from his nostrils, Aurelius sized up his so-called allies in this endeavour, and if he was honest, he was more than a little underwhelmed. One wanker that had more brawns than brains; one knife-ears that used to be a law-dog; and a child in a wheelchair, whose claim to fame was her dear old Mam. Beggars can't be choosers, mate, he smirked inwardly. This job was slightly more rushed than the Anarchist would like, but when a chance such as this arose one didn't grumble. The illustrious reputation of the Remis, and the assurances of his contacts as to the thief's skills laid some of his misgivings to rest.

The ebony-skinned elf was at least mildly impressive. He had allowed the physical contact only to find out how much of her reputation was bollocks, but he had been amused to find the chant on her was fairly accurate. If she could steal the intangible from inside someone's brain-box, then she was more than adequate for his purposes. Play me cards right, I might even be able to use 'er again in the future... He allowed himself a few moments to set some new plans turning in his head before he brought his attention back to the discussion.

As the muscle-bound big sod took his turn and laid out his idea, Aurelius sat forward in his chair, helping himself to a tankard of ale. The brutish bastard was obviously not too canny, but the tiefling could see the vicious streak in him, even without use of his witch-sight. Taking a mouthful of the drink, Aurelius grimaced. "Bloody swill," he muttered under his breath, setting the pewter mug on the floor next to his chair and washing the taste out of his mouth with another drink of T'keela from his hip flask. He was no stranger to bub, but even his standards were above what the tavern was serving. All ale has been passed by the management, he chuckled to himself, remembering the sign above the door of his favourite watering hole back home.

As always, each of the co-conspirators had their own plans and were desperate to show how their scheme was better and more impressive than the ones offered before. Scene's changed, but it's always the same no matter where you go, he thought, finally finishing the cigarette and stubbing it out on the side of his hobnailed boot. Impatience was starting to niggle at the back of the warlock's mind, but he reined it in with an effort, letting the group finally finish their petty one-upmanship. It took several minutes before the Remi girl had finished with her presentation, but as she sat back with a smug grin on her admittedly pretty face, Aurelius finally decided he would put an end to the debate. Time was short, and his temper was shorter.

When the group had fallen quiet again, the half-breed drummed his fingers on the scarred table-top for a moment, before another cigarette appeared between his lips. Lighting it with the barest application of his will, Aurelianus smiled.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm, boys and girls, really, I do. But you're all overlookin' one little thing."

He took a draw of the coffin-nail, feeling the smoke burn its way down into his blackened lungs.

"This is my ride. I've been a connivin' bastard for long enough, and I've already considered most of the points you've brought up. Contrary to what you seem to believe, I 'ave a plan and it's the one we're going with. All I need are the bodies to make it work."

He leaned forward again, resting his arms on the table and exhaling smoke, his voice lowered to prevent it being overheard. Although the chances of anyone picking out their conversation over the background din was unlikely.

"Like our leather-'eaded friend here pointed out, the Ixians 'ave their signals. What 'e seems to 'ave misunderstood is I already know them. That's not an issue. I'll be keepin' 'em wrong-footed from the get-go. Now, final checks are being done tonight and tomorrow mornin' before we set off with the goods."

He noted the look pass across their faces, before the brute and the cripple tried to hide their lack of surprise.

"That's right, we - let's not play silly buggers. We've all 'ad our little birds whisperin' in our ears about the others before tonight, and we all know I'm on their payroll as a merc. Now, it took me a fair bit of arm-twistin' and favour-callin' to get in on this ride, but the other two high-ups were granted the honour, or some such bollocks from their.. master." A sneer and a spit of derision showed the tiefling's views on that. "Taka, I'm none too familiar with. Seen 'im around the castle a few times, and 'eard about 'im from a few of the more loose-tongued lads. A prick, by most accounts, but a pikin' demon with a sword and devoted to whatever job he's sent on. Stick up 'is arse that'd break if he bent over too quick. Chant is that's why the Orlouge wanted 'im 'ere."

Aurelianus' grin widened into a razor-edged wound in his ashen-skinned visage. His next sentence started with a soft, lascivious hiss.

"Ssssset'Roh..." the deviant half-demon licked his pale lips and barely suppressed a shudder of lust remembering her. "I was in the Cell with 'er. Never found 'er that impressive to be honest, but the body on it.. my my, the things I would do to that girl given 'alf a chance..."

Another stream of smoke joined the already hazy air, and the tiefling idly scratched the tattoos along his scalp.

"Besides the point," he chuckled. "Anyway, she's made a name for 'erself that says she'll be a problem. Luckily for the rest of us," he flicked his serpentine gaze to Alydia, "she's your problem, luv. She's posted as a guard for the little relic you want. You take 'er out, you're welcome to the thing."

The elf nodded softly, tilting her hat. No doubt the chit had a dozen potential ideas for how she would do so, and it made no difference to Aurelius which she chose. He turned his eyes back to Aerith with a sly grin.

"Your family needs no introductions, luv, and neither does your barmy rabble. You get your lads on board, as you said, and keep 'em on a tight leash until you get the signal to go."

Horned head turning to Marduk, Drak'shal stubbed out another cigarette on the table, his thumb circling the stump of his right ring finger habitually. He still missed the missing half of his digit.

"Muscles, you'll be going with our cross-trader," he gestured lazily to Alydia with his roll-up before it went back into his mouth. "She'll take you along and 'elp you get on board the train once it's already movin'. You're the signal to go - when we mark you, the Cult goes batshit, and the Ixians come runnin'. Aerith luv, make sure whoever's leadin' 'em tomorrow goes for the passengers. The more Ixians we draw away from the powder, the better for everyone. Marduk, you'll be backin' the Cult up, keepin' 'em busy for as long as you can. You'll be the face of the opposition, cutter. When they're lookin' to you and the cultists, I'll be workin' away behind their lines, takin' them out and misdirecting them as best I can."

The short, bulky human sneered, which Aurelianus took as consent.

"They don't know I'm not on their side, and if I can keep it that way, then so much the better for me. Now, while all this is 'appenin', Alydia's goin' to be nabbin' 'er payment for the job. While she's dealin' with Set'Roh, I'll be makin' sure the powder-carriage is empty. I can take care of Taka easily enough," he assured them, his tone contemptuous of the swordsman's reputation. "As soon as we're clear, the cross-trader will take the powder. The entire carriage. The rest of us don't 'ave to worry about movin' it."

Pleased by the mild looks of surprise shown, he continued outlining his plan.

"Why keep a dog and bark yourself, eh? She'll take the chance to make good 'er escape while we're all still keepin' the Knights busy. Only me, 'er, and my lads will know the rendezvous point for the powder." At this, the tiefling's pale hand flicked towards the thief, a small slip of folded paper appearing between his fingers. Simple sleight of hand again, which paled in comparison to the Aleraran's powers as she plucked it from his grip and made it vanish into Powers-knew-where. It detailed not only the exact location for delivery of the cargo, but the proper phrases that would allow his Anarchists to recognise her.

"Far as I'm concerned, the minute I know my cargo is safely off the train, our business is at an end," he told Aerith and Marduk. "I get my powder, Alydia gets 'er trinket, and you two get to bloody Sei Orlouge's nose. Everyone's a winner."

As his oration wound down, the warlock allowed his gaze to wander, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to scan the crowds.

"If you want to get your darlin' sister involved, feel free," he said, turning back to face Aerith and her attendant servant. "But as I said, soon as I get what I want, 'ow you make good your escape is your problem." His tone made it clear to everyone at the table what they already knew - this was an alliance of convenience, nothing more. There was very little chance any of them would end up as friends after this venture.

He didn't voice his next thought aloud. If I play this right, I can limp in to the station with any surviving Ixians, and play the part of poor, aggrieved victim. I get to continue pikin' up their plans from within, everythin's fine and dandy. Blame goes to the Cult, and I get what I want.

"This plan ain't elegant, and it ain't fool-proof. But it should suffice to get what we want."

His mouth dry from rattling his bone-box, the horned malcontent lit another cigarette and sat back in the already ravaged wooden chair, his armour taking a toll on any furniture he got near. Puffing one, two, three times to get the roll-up properly lit, Aurelius waited for the no-doubt numerous complaints and amendments to his plan to come rolling in.

[Alydia Ettermire]

Nothing irked Alydia more than consummate unprofessionals when she was on a job. This Marduk going right for the lazy insults told her exactly how little he would be worth; she would be lucky if he could serve even so basic a purpose as being a signal. She preferred the condescending contempt from the Remi and the tiefling. It was almost elven.

The burly human’s surly snapping set off a chain reaction of pissing around the table. First he presented his useless plan, then Remi presented a plausible but inefficient plan. If they went with hers, the only powder anyone would get would be what the men could carry in their arms; why have her along at all if they weren’t going to utilize her talents? Drak’shal, at least, had taken her skill into account. His plan was simple, it was crude, it was workable. And she didn’t need to piss over him to get to a plan she’d already made.

“Plan four contingency two, then. Coarse, but…” Her right hand brushed the brim of her hat back and her visible eye traveled over the group, lingering on the dark-haired male. “Considering what we have to work with…”

Marduk opened his mouth, doubtless to give her another bit of lip. Before he could form his first sound, her hand lashed out, quick as a snake. Her glove brushed his bicep. A tendril of shadow cracked at his arm, and he dropped to the floor like a gutted fish. He tried to rise, but the weight of his own body was crushing him. He tried to breathe, but his stomach couldn’t expand to pull the air into his lungs. Only his heart beat, and that only barely.

A few heads turned at the thud of heavy body on rotting boards, but no one moved to the aid of the human. If the people at that isolated table started killing each other, the smart move would be to leave. No one survived their first day in Ettermire’s underworld by being stupid. No one.

“I saw you speaking with Gul’Dukat when I entered. Doubtless he told you that if you got your hands on me, you would end me. Dukat’s information is outdated. Get your hands on me, and you will be dead. And before you are dead, you will long for ten thousand years of extra-planar isolation. Am I clear, auflaque?”

The Dragon Shaman glared at her with all the hatred his golden eyes could manage while asphyxiating, and she planted a foot on his head. “Get up, rivvil,” she spat. “You’re disgusting.”

Strength trickled back into Marduk’s body, letting him breathe, letting him feel his extremities again. He grabbed his chair with all the bravado he could muster, hauling himself back into it.

“My kill count is as illustrious as you so sarcastically implied because I do not advertise the lives I have taken. Come. We leave.”

The Alerian stood with an imperious grace, red trench coat rippling around her with a sinister elegance. She cast a cool eye over the three people who would not ride with her, settling on the shark-skinned hellspawn. “When leaving here, Mr. Drak’shal, you should return to the Ixians with all haste. Stick to the broad streets where the lights don’t gutter; your good friend is in quite a foul mood of late.”

Ettermire was her stomping ground; of course she knew of Swanra’ann. Of course she knew of the Pits. Perhaps she’d even seen them and met their queen.

Alydia turned for the door. “Is it not fortunate that we all did not meet here this night?” Soft-soled boots moved across the cracked and dirty floor with delicate surety. She didn’t even look to make sure that Marduk was following her.

[Marduk the Black]

Claws dug into wood at the flogging his pride took under her lash. Marduk wasn't expecting what had occurred, it was one thing to steal the tangible, but whatever she had done had robbed him of strength. To a vassal of Tiamat, this was a concerning development that bore some forethought. Much like a predator wounded by the prey he had to take a moment's assessment to figure things out. Marduk let his mind collect its thoughts while his lungs greedily collected a comfortable supply of useful air. He grabbed his drink and finished it before the sneering grin slashed his face once more.

He could already see Aur about to tell him to go with the Drow before he nodded and got up, his chair shoving back a foot. He looked at the retreating Alydia before he looked back over his shoulder, “Tell your sister she better be ready to be more than useful. She should know how I like my fun.”

His words delivered to Aerith who seemed to nod almost sarcastically at him he grabbed his helmet heavily and put it on his head. His visage disappearing behind the metal as he growled out lowly, “She can wait a spell, if she was truly worried about time she wouldn't have waylayed me. I find it fun when they punch first though...”

Aur seemed to bristle at the comment before Marduk looked at the teifling, “Don't worry about it, I won't punch her skull through the back of her head, yet. I'm not some idiot that can't figure out when he's been one upped. The little songbird has a bit of fight, just means it'll be more satisfying when I make her beg for her life and take it anyways. Besides, my kind don't take their revenge in the heat of the moment, that's far too humane. I want her to suffer so thoroughly that she will regret ever insulting me like that.”

His hand flexed as he could almost feel that soft flesh under the serrated claws. He grabbed another bottle before he nodded, “One for the road as they say. Its too bad, I wish we could have worked out an arrangement. I guess body guarding the girl is all you want from me, I can manage that.”

He then looked at Aurelianus before he spoke, “But I also know you better than you think Lyesmith, all I want, is if there is real fun to be had on that train, an invitation to make some of my own. Let me know if you want to rock the boat, I can capsize it at the drop of my helmet...”

He left the table rather than wait on any further words, he could almost imagine the Drow waiting, with a barbed tongue. He was going to enjoy annoying the crap out of her. She won this round and because of the Lyesmith she was untouchable. He was sure that he would probably get more “lessons” meant to curb his nature. She would learn fast that all it would do is make him annoy her much more. While yes, she was untouchable until the task was complete, so too was Marduk. He would relish reminding her of it when she moved to touch him. She might torture him, but every time she used that strength sapping ability he would get more of an idea on how it worked.

Eventually she would tip the full hand, and then, then he would be holding all the cards.

[Requiem of Insanity]

What had transpired was a shock the shackled woman behind Aerith. How Alydia managed to floor Marduk with but a touch was beyond her scope of reasoning. Humbled by the elven beauty and writhing Marduk caved in his own way, and all Samantha could do was gape her mouth in awe.

Yet Aerith needed more than humbling a brute by mere touch to impress her. Not to say what the dark elf did wasn't impressive, it highly was and aerith made a mental note to add that ability to her list of concerns. However as a daughter of the Goddess of Blessed Torture, the bar was quite understandably high. She merely drank her cup down and sighed pleasurably. It was quite presumptuous of the tiefling and the shaman to demand anything from the Cult, but the party was already over. She got what she wanted out of this meeting.

The wheelchair squeaked as she rolled backwards, Samantha quickly grabbing the handles and aiding her as she made way for the exit, stopping before Alydia. "I have enjoyed our time together Ms. Ettermire, we should get together with tea and pastries when this is over and discuss a more lucrative business venture." Samantha politely nodded as she rotated the chair to address the other two in the room. She gave them a charming smile, but the vileness in her eyes couldn't be contained. True, they would no doubt care not one wit about her gave or anything about her for that matter, but it was a necessary reminder that she represented one of the strongest families in the world.

"Mr. Drak'shal I hope that my Cultists will be of use to you, and in the future you will consider us again when you are fully in control of the Red Hand. As for you Marduk," Aerith turned away allowing herself to be pushed away. "I would be mindful of the lesson Alydia taught you gratefully about barking at your betters. My sister will be there and you can see for yourself how she'll bring it the way you like it."

She left the meeting at that. Genuine parting for Alydia, a casual reminder to Aurelianas that theCult was watching, but not opposed to his plans or goals. To expect respect from the tiefling was just a simple matter of knowing it wouldn't happen. His kind grew up in a society of might makes right, or so she had been told. Which reminded her. She lifted a hand in pause, and turned her head to the demon man.

"My sister, Catherine, would like you to pass a message for her to your ally, Ms. Freebird, and her company. A simple warm greeting and the promise to shed more blood in the coming months. She has not forgotten her debt to Madison, and the Cult always pays their debts."

As the chair moved forwards once again Aerith returned to her thoughts, unsure what plans she should proceed with. There was a palpable feeling in the air as the events that took place seemed to be off. Something in the air was wrong, but she could not find the source, so she left it at that for now. When she wheeled into her room she sighed heavily dismissing Samantha with a wave of her hand.

"What a miserable waste of time. I should not have had high expectations, but thats always been my weakness. I expect far too much sometimes." Samantha said nothing as her chains rattled in the air behind the cripple. Aerith removed her boots with some strain, feeling nothing in her legs as she huffed bending over to release the ties. "Alydia was just as i expected; efficient, organized, prepared. But the other two i would have liked to see more subtly in their veiled threats. Marduk's desire to show power was a boon for me, but leaves me far less confident in his abilities than i would like."

She moved herself off the chair just a bit, angling to remove her corset when a feeling washed over her that made her jump in alarm. Fingers gripped the intricate lacing and ripped the backing off, causing pain in her chest. She looked to see a frightened Samantha looking to one in her mistress' bed chambers. She followed the trail to see her dear sister, feral mask on her face as she breathed heavily in and out, nostrils flaring. Spit collected at the side of her mouth and she looked ready to kill as she angrily tossed the laces aside.

"Hello, Cat," Aerith purred. She made no indication of the concern she felt when her sister was like this. It was a risky gamble, but she found a way to calm her sister even in the worst of moods. It wasn't a solution she minded herself either. Her fingers gently lifted up and brushed her sisters. She snatched them away, glaring daggers at the cripple. Aerith remained calm. "You are troubled, sister. What is wrong?"

"I want to murder them all," she seethed. "This plotting and posturing, it's all meaningless." Her hand went to her ax, but this time Aerith insisted her fingers lock with her sisters. There was a tense moment as the crimson angel looked to the grip, but she sagged her shoulders and gripped lightly back, a longing sigh escaping her lips.

"Patience is not your virtue, i know this, but this is how the game is played. They all showed exactly how much they were willing to show at that meeting, just as I had."

"There reputations means nothing when there is an axe in their heads!" She shouted and slammed her fist in the dresser, shattering the top shelf. She seethed looking to the blood that dripped down her knuckles. She quickly brought her hand to her mouth and licked the blood, before Aerith took it in her hand. She saw her opportunity clear as day.

"You are very wound up, Sweetheart, why is that?" Aerith said softly, rubbing her thumb against her sister's hand. Catherine looked side to side, before she lowered her head. Her heaving was replaced with deep sighs before her fingers lazily began to rub her sisters.

"I just," she started. "I wanted to ensure i could kill Astarelle, but it never came up. You let the dark elven whore have her. I want to teach that sand slut not to trifle to with Avatar of Blessed Torture!" Aerith brought her sister in for a hug, wrapping her arms around her. The woman's heart paced li,e a race horse and Aerith merely ran a finger through her hair. She soothed the beast despertely crawling out of Catherine.

"There will be time for that, dear sister. But you have to play your part for now. Will Taka Benjiro do for now?"

"It will have to," Catherine muttered with no enthusiasm. Aerith pulled back and let her fingers reach the back of her sisters head. Admittedly, her heart fluttered to be close to her sister like this. Usually she was always the instigator, but this time Aerith was surprised her sister pressed her lips against hers. They kissed for a moment, hands running up and down, before Catherine broke it off. She smiled, brokenly, to Aerith, before she moved to the window and cast it open with a flick of her wrist. "I must go, mother just summoned me," she snapped the words with wrath.

"Do NOT go see mother angry," Aerith warned. Catherine sighed, but nodded in agreeance. In a beat of wings of she was gone. Aerith looked out the window, longing for her sisters touch, but instead that feeling suddenly returned. No doubt spies of the others saw her sister fly away. Some must even known they kissed. It wasn't the end of the world knowledge, but it was an unnecessary showing of weakness.

This whole conference was starting to become bothersome. She adjusted on the chair and looked to Samantha. "When do we leave?" She asked sternly. Samantha quickly responded, her chains dragging as she raced forwards.

"Cultists are ready at a moments notice. We have one mage in the area who can teleport us back to Moth-" Samantha stopped talking the second the word slipped. Aerith's eyes widened. The child shrank looking away. Aerith wheeled her chair over quickly.

"Finish your thoughts," Aerith said lightly.

"At the mansion. They could teleport us back to the mansion." Samantha was bad at hiding things and Aerith smiled.

"Yes," she said slyly. "Let's go make haste and return to mother, shall we?" Aerith smiled as Samantha gathered their things, taking joy that it was possible this trip wasn't a waste afterall...

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

Aurelianus smirked as the party wound down, and his guests took their leave.

None of them got more than a cursory nod from the tiefling as they departed, each well aware of their roles in the upcoming heist. He sat for long after the group left, nursing his drinks and rolling himself cigarettes to whittle away the time. His alabaster features were calm, but inside the wheels were spinning. His mind was dissecting the plan they had agreed upon, as well as the players in his little game.

Ettermire had proven her skill - that was beyond debate. But she had also shown herself easily riled. The taunts from Marduk had been childish at best, and yet the dark-elf had been unable to resist proving him wrong and humbling the brutish big bastard where everyone could see. She had pride. That was always a useful lever for those who knew how to use it. Aurelius inhaled a lungful of smoke as he mused. His grin widened as he recalled her parting words. Of course she was aware of Swanra'ann, and of course she knew how badly the tiefling had given her the laugh. But did she know how best to use that little snippet against the guttersnipe?

Wait and see, cutter. She pushes you, you pen 'er in the dead-book. She proves useful.. well, then we can reconsider.

"Aye, you've got a point," he muttered before realising he was talking to himself.

His serpentine eyes flicked briefly around the room at the other patrons, but most of them were canny enough to keep their gazes away from him. Another swallow of T'keela wormed its way down the half-demon's gullet to spread warmth through his gut.

Next was Marduk. His pride had taken a severe boot to the bollocks, but the basher had composed himself well enough. Aurelianus idly ruffled a hand through his bloody-red quills as he played out the event again in his head. A small chuckle slithered from between his fangs. If Ettermire proved problematic in future, the warlock knew he had someone that would gladly make himself useful in removing her. Marduk's parting words had piqued Aurelius' curiosity, he had to admit, but it wouldn't take much to find out what sort of aces the human had stashed away.

The tiefling craned his neck from side to side, leaning forward to crush out his cigarette on the table-top. He made a mental note to dispatch a couple of spies, find out a little more about the armoured brute. He already had a handful of his lads out in the city tonight; they had been given simple orders to follow Aurelianus' co-conspirators back to their destinations and whisper any darks they discovered back in his ears.

Almost as if his thoughts had summoned them, one of the Crimson Hand agents slid into Ssa's Hoills. The woman, her pretty features hidden under a heavy cowl, made her way through the crowd to the warlock's table. A few of the tavern's patrons made to accost her, but when they marked who she was coming to speak to, they thought better and went back to their drinks. She paid the crowd no heed, and knelt next to the half-breed.

"'ello luv. Got anythin' juicy for me?" he asked, cocking his head to face the she-elf.

Marla, the agent in question, was still not used to the informal manner of her new master, but she did not let her distaste show on her ivory-skinned features. She bowed her head and held out a slip of paper for the tiefling's scrutiny.

It was snatched from her grip and Aurelius scanned the contents with an unreadable expression. There was a small burst of Hellfire in the warlock's palm, incinerating the missive as he allowed himself a warm snicker.

"Aaaah, those Remis," he grinned, "keepin' it in the family."

Marla said nothing, still kneeling by his side. Marla couldn't say anything, as it happened. As a show of devotion to the Crimson hand, the barmy chit had cut out her own tongue to show she would never betray the secrets of the Crimson Hand to anyone else. Aurelius, when he had heard the chant about this, didn't much see the sense of it. She can still write. So, what was the point of that grand little gesture? Then again, he thought, if she'd cut off her 'ands as well, she'd be no bloody use at all. Either way, he shrugged off the thoughts as irrelevant.

Instead, he dismissed her with a casual flick of his fingers and made himself another cigarette.

The information his spy had brought him was, admittedly, probably not unknown to others. There were rumours all over about how.. close the Remi family was. But, their dabbling in "taboo" practices didn't bother the tiefling one jot. Hells, he had perpetrated worse in his House of Sin on an almost daily basis before he set out for Alerar. No, what interested him was simply that they were an exceptionally useful horde of sadists. And as Aerith herself had alluded to, they had no objections to partaking in the malcontent's machinations.

Leaning back in his chair, bladed-armour gouging the chair again, he exhaled a cloud of bitter smoke.

His ego bristled a little at her using him as a messenger to Madison Freebird, but Aurelius was fond of the Briarheart. And he was well aware of the debt Catherine Remi owed his frequent partner-in-crime. If he could manage to get a family with such an expansive reach and potentially limitless resources in his own debt...

It was getting late.

Aurelianus finally finished his hip-flask, cleaning out the last drop with the tips of his forked tongue. Sighing, he clamped the cigarette between his lips and got to his feet. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, but his black heart pumped faster at the thought of the chaos that would be sown. Throwing on his buckle-laden coat with a grim smile, Aurelianus dropped a few coppers on the table and stalked out of Ssa's Hoills.

He sat his wide-brimmed hat atop his horned brow and started the long walk back to the Ixian lodgings - if he was gone much longer, they might start to get suspicious, might decide to come looking for him. Aurelius couldn't have that. Oh no, when he stuck in the knife, he wanted to savour the surprise...

Tomorrow was going to be a glorious day.

[Philomel]

Name of Thread: Conference of Criminals (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?27982-Conference-of-Criminals)
Judgement Type: Workshop Submission
Participants: Alydia Ettermire, Marduk the Black, Requiem of Insanity, Aurelianus Drak'shal

Rewards:

Alydia Ettermire (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?8606-Alydia-Ettermire) receives:
420 EXP
40 GP

Marduk the Black (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?13545-Marduk-the-Black) receives:
290 EXP
40 GP

Requiem of Insanity (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?13479-Requiem-of-Insanity) receives:
470 EXP
40 GP

Aurelianus Drak'shal (http://www.althanas.com/world/member.php?16463-Aurelianus-Drak-shal)receives:
420 EXP
40 GP

[Lye]

EXP & GP Added!