Re: Sinful Consequences (Closed) (Dated)

[Sassaflash]

Mega blinked curiously at the next question, tilting her head towards him a bit. "It is nice, but why do you ask? Are you not at home here?" She asked, suddenly pushing against the straps again. "Did you get kicked out of your home for being bad and now no one wants you to live with them?!"

[Kroll]

Kroll is literally doing everything in his power to keep his talons from skinning this pegasus alive. If he wanted questions answered, she would need to be alive. "I have not been home...for twenty four years, and I have been stranded in this rotting, hellish city for the past five." Kroll takes a deep breath before continuing. "I was approached..by Felkis himself, and he told me...he told me that if I captured Zweihander...I could go home. I could finally be able...go home."
With a swift motion, he puts his fist through one the window behind her head, shattering it completely. He watches the shards clatter to the alley below before plucking a bit-sized piece from the frame. He turns to face Megabyte, his face full of rage and his eyes willing with tears as he continues his spiel, his voice quivering as he held the glass shard in front of her. "So I am going to give you one. last. chance. Tell me where Zweihander is."

[Sassaflash]

Mega's eyes looked towards the piece of glass held out in front of her in the talon, giggling once again. "No thanks, I don't need any candy." She smiled, her blurred vision making the piece of clear glass extremely hard to discern. She looked up at the griffon's face afterword, her smile still on her face and only growing as the sound of the glass had made her nervous again. "I really don't know, mister."

[Kroll]

That was the last straw. With a swift motion, Kroll jammed a the shard of glass into Megabyte's mouth, and proceeded to punch her in the face savagely, channeling his anger into every blow. "Where? Is? He?!" He knew she was keeping something from him. She had to be.

[Sassaflash]

Mega didn't have a chance to respond before the shard was shoved into her mouth, already able to taste blood as a corner scratched her tongue. Before she knew it, a fist impacted with her muzzle. Again, and again, and again; the blows continued coming as she struggled to say anything comprehensible with the shard to work around. Nose and mouth already dribbling blood to stain her gray coat, she took the abuse as she seemed to almost fall into a state of unfocus, staring at the griffon with her slightly off-centered eyes.

[Kroll]

After a few minutes of this abuse, Kroll stopped punching, giving her time to cough the now much-smaller shards of glass out of her mouth. When she was done, he put the cloth sack back over her head before pulling her chair forward, then leaning it back, so that the back of the chair was barely touching the frame of the window, giving an 'about to fall' sensation. Grabbing the bucket of water, he began to pour water over Megabyte's face, making the cloth sack cling to her face, nearly suffocating her.

[Sassaflash]

Mega coughed lightly as she spat out the glass shards she was able to, small spots of blood-filled saliva dotting the floor in front of her. Not reacting at all to the sack being placed on her head, she simply sat still in her restraints despite the feeling. Almost eerily still as the movements of her chest for her breathing were the only signs she was still alive.

All of a sudden, she was wet. Gasping for breath, she struggled against the straps around her as she slowly felt herself running out of air. Her efforts to breathe only made it harder for herself every time she tried.

[Kestrel]

Down on the streets below The Hunter had continued his hunt, and was slowly growing closer to Zweihanders position. Ducking here, weaving there. He was caught off guard for a moment as a loud bang erupted from one of the alley ways over from him. He stopped for a moment, head flicking towards the direction of the sound.

"Interesting." The Hunter thought, his mental voice a soothing, icy calm; a perfect match for the strange, serene smile on his face. The smile that never seemed to fade. Picking up the pace the Hunter in black began to move closer and closer to his quarry, crossing over an alley at a time as he did.

The Hunters scout had left him for the moment however, leaving him to wander blind. No matter, he'd find his way eventually. He always did.

And just where was the scout one may ask? Why, perched on the sill of the balcony, watching the interrogation of course. It had arrived between blows with a flutter of feathers and clicking talons. It's dark, cold, beady eyes watching the grim display before it. Once again the bird proved its strangeness, its eerie gaze casting judgement on the ones it saw. Predator and prey relations had always been known to the bird, its very master was a prime example of a true predator; moreover his work and code often had him...reinforcing natural relations between predator and prey. But this now? What it was seeing? This was simple brutality.

The Bird condemned the Griffon for doing so, the gleam in its eyes far louder than any spoken word.

[Kroll]

Kroll yanked off the sack after the bucket was empty, and his rage had subsided on the whole. Breathing heavily, he stepped back to admire his work. That was when one of the soldiers came in. He was about to tell Kroll something, but the sight of what he did to the pegasus made the words die in his throat. Groaning, Kroll stepped to the side so that his victim was out of the guerrilla's line of sight. "Unless Zweihander is downstairs, willing to turn himself in, you had better leave."

The soldier paused for a moment. "Well, that's...close, I guess. One of the four you sent out came back...he said that he saw the target quickly advancing northbound..." Kroll cut him off before he could say anymore. "Rally up the others, I want them REDCON 1 in ten minutes, got it?"

The griffon nodded frantically. "Y-yes sir." He peered over Kroll's shoulder. "Is she...?"

Kroll finished the guerrilla's question with an impatient sigh "Dead? No." He walks over and leans the chair back so that it teeters, barely balancing on the frame of the windowsill. "But this ought to do it." With that, he gave the chair a hearty kick, sending it and its occupant into the alleyway below.

Kroll smiles as he pats the griffon's cheek condescendingly. "Now come, we're taking to the rooftops. Zwiehander won't capture himself, you know!" He took a piece of licorice out of a pouch he kept on himself and put it in his mouth, letting it hang out like a cigarette as he walked down the hallway, humming to himself. He was feeling much better.

[Sassaflash]

Mega breathed heavily as she watched the two griffons converse, face expressionless, but eyes showing all the emotion needed. There was something no longer right in her head. Teetering on the edge of death, she didn't utter a word, or even move a muscle.

It was sudden, but she was no longer in the building and in the air. She closed her eyes as a sudden, disturbing laugh left her lips as she approached the ground at a fast pace. The laughter came to an end as the sound of splintering wood and the thud of the pony contacting the ground came back up to the window.

Blood slowly began to roll across the paved ground underneath the pegasus as she laid still with her eyes half open, her grin still weakly stretched across her muzzle. She hardly noticed the broken chair leg piercing her side. Nor did she really care.

((Follow Mega's and Steels story here.))

[Kestrel]

The Raven barked as Megabyte was cast from the window and into the alley below. Its wings fluttered audibly, and before leaving totally it cast a final, almost cold, glare back at the griffon responsible for the torture. It's master had done things far worse, but he had always repented. The Raven seemed to think the other griffon would not be so inclined.

Fluttering down the Raven landed in the Alleyway, bouncing over towards the mare; head cocking left and right as it looked her over. It avoided her blood, avoided her form. Like the scout it was, the Raven just watched, eyes once cold now curious.

In some cultures they say the Raven is a shape shifter, a guide of the dead, flying on black wings between the realms of life and death; ferrying souls and guiding the lost. Were this true one had to wonder, was the raven staying to guide the soul of the dying mare? To take the pain from her, and let her soul be free of the chains that bound it to this mortal coil?

The answer came in the form of a ravens cry and the fluttering of wings. Off into the sky the bird flew, leaving the mare behind; a single, tiny, black feather coming to rest in the pool of steadily growing blood beside her.

"Not today." the Raven's cry seemed to say. "Not today."

[Johan Tercel]

*huff* *huff* *huff*

Breathing heavily, Zweihander looked around. He had managed to outrun his pursuers...for now. It was almost a blur to him what had happened. It seemed so...surreal. Indistinct, like cloudy glass. Trying to recall what had happened in the adrenaline fueled sprint he had undertaken, he remembered a flash of light from behind him, and a loud noise. He had also seen...a familiar pegasus. She was the one who dropped the bomb; he had seen the look of surprise on her face. She had provided a distraction, but at what cost?

Looking at his surroundings, he exhaled. He was located in an old, shelled-out hotel or apartment building; there wasn't really enough left to tell. All that remained was the first floor, and even that was in an advanced state of ruin. He was currently in the main foyer, or what was left of it. There was still a "ceiling", although it was full of holes, all of them too small for anything larger than a songbird to fit through. The room was devoid of furniture, except for some tables, a couple chairs, and surprisingly enough, the reception desk.

Must have been a hotel then...or a really top-shelf apartment. Zweihander thought to himself.

Walking towards the still-intact reception desk, he lifted himself over it, and sat himself down, using it as a temporary hiding place, and cover. The way he was set up allowed him to cover all vantage points to enter the room, while giving himself enough cover and distance to react accordingly to any contacts. Having his sword out, he placed it on his lap, and idly began to clean it while he regained his breath.

This will be the day when I give myself willingly to any cur who seeks to slay me. Their nerve.

[Kestrel]

After so much time apart, the Raven and the Hunter finally sync'd up their routes. The alleys and shadows of Manehatten had lead, with guidance from his scout, the Hunter right to an rotting husk of a building. For a moment the Hunter stood there, eerily calm gaze flickering across the shell of a once proud structure. Impressive, that the pony's architecture would last so long. What had the building endured? Bombardment? Occupation? A frontal assault? The Hunter entertained that branch of thought for a moment or two before he let it fall away, honed mind focusing on the task at hand once more.

At first glance it would seem that the only way into the building was to pass through the still firm standing double doors, and enter the foyer. The Hunter was not one to fall for first appearances however. Moving soundlessly the Hunter swept across the perimeter of the building, gaze flickering across the brick and mortar of its construction for a good while before finally finding that which he sought.

A window, frame missing and left gaping; like the maw of some vile beast.

The Hunter made a motion with his right hand before entering, a silent order to his Scout to follow him once again. With a bark the Raven descended and made a perch on its masters firm shoulder. With nary a sound The Hunter pulled himself into the maw of brick and mortar and into the expansive room beyond; taking a moment afterwords to allow his sensitive eyes to adjust to the new lighting.

Furniture of various kinds was spread about, hidden beneath what should have been stark white sheets. The thick layer of mold and dust upon each piece within the room ruined the image however. How long had this room been here, one had to wonder. How long had the love seats and sitting room chairs been left to the harshness of Mother Nature herself? Yet another question for another time.

Acclimated and ready, The Hunter pushed the questions from his mind and began to move. Like a shadow he seemed to flow across the rubble strewn floor; silent and still as death itself. Even his scout made no noise, the creature instead more focused on glancing about its new environs; the same intelligent gleam in its eye as it was lead about the ruins.

The building that the Hunter had entered proved to be quite expansive, and as he moved down the rotting carpeted halls he found himself constructing quite the mental map. Sitting rooms, bedrooms, even a few restrooms seemed to still be in working order. Useful information should his hunt go awry.

It was after a few minutes of mapping that the Hunter found himself approaching the main foyer of the building. This was the only remaining room that The Hunter hadn't searched, meaning only one thing. His quarry was there, inside, and no doubt waiting for him. Perking his ears and focusing his senses forward The Hunter attempted to see if his guess was right. The sound of movement was faint, even to his keen perception, but it was there.

He would not be risking revealing himself just yet however.

Turning his head calmly The Hunter nodded to the Raven. It obeyed the order without question. Taking flight the bird began to fly down the hall, finally coming out into the Foyer and flying around for a moment before finding a pile of rubble to perch upon. Black, beady, intelligent eyes focused on the griffon in the Foyer, watching as he cleaned his blade. The bird barked a greeting, the sound almost understandable as a 'hello', preforming two acts; announcing itself to Zweihander, and telling its master that his quarry was near.

[Kroll]

After a brief burial of the fallen squadmate, Kroll and the rest of his group set out, continuing their pursuit on the rooftops above the alleyway. Assuming the marksman from earlier was still around, he had his men move from cover to cover. It was bad enough he already lost a griffon not a day into the mission, he didn't plan to lose any more.

[Bow Strings]

She laughed. She couldn't help it, watching seven griffons bounce from cover to cover in front of her view over the rooftops. Then stop and huddle in place like they hadn't been noticed.

She once again pulled back the all to familiar string, letting it hum, but she didn't release. Instead she let it pull the magic from her form it increase it's own power as she watched one of the griffon hop onto a roof and take cover behind an Air condition. Like that would save them.

She did have to admit that it was like some sort of real life shooting gallery, watching them all bounce in a out of cover, trying to get from roof top to roof top knowing they couldn't fly without getting shot. She watched as the monster moved again, leaped up on to second building with the help of his wings then moved behind a roof access.

She could feel the heat through her iron horseshoe that protected her hooves. The was her signal to let go or get burnt. So she shift a little over and watched as the griffon moved in full sprint heading to the next piece of cover. Too bad he would never make it. She let go and watched as the string shoved the heated droning bolt few to the target. So close he was as the bolt pierced his neck, causing him to over step, and, ironically, slide into the cover.

[Kroll]

Kroll heard a thudding sound. Thinking it was the guerrilla bringing up the rear, he turned around to see the dead griffon, his reprimand dying in his throat. The other squadmates stare in shock, doing everything they can to stop from having a full-blown panic attack. After a few moments of stunned silence, Kroll relieved the downed soldier of his gear, just as he did the previous one.


Spotting the next spot of cover, Kroll noticed that it had a door leading back inside. He turns to the other guerrillas. "Alright. We're going to make a break for the cover on that next building. There's a door. We're going to go inside and take the streetlevel in the alleyways. Marksman shouldn't be able to get us from there. Can you two handle that?"

The griffons nod frantically, still visibly shaken by the death of their friend. Kroll tries to reassure them. "Don't worry. We're gonna find the sonuva bitch that's been doing this, and make him pay. For now, though, let's just get to that cover downrange...ready? Three...two...one..Go!"

With that, Kroll and his remaining squadmates make a break for the next building, and hopefully, to safety.

[Johan Tercel]

Zweihander was surprised by the raven flying in the room. Narrowing his eyes at it, he appraised the bird. Large, black, and morbid, the raven perched on a pile of rubble. Looking at him with intelligent eyes, it croaked as ravens do.

He was suspicious of its intentions; he could swear that this raven had been following him during his entire escape. It was likely a pet, or a spy of some sort. No matter, if its master came, they had better explain their reasons.

[Kestrel]

The Raven seemed unfazed by the suspicious glare it was receiving. The bird instead moved to preen itself as it rested on the rubble. It was methodical in its actions, like a machine, precise and focused as it cleaned each and every available feather it its shadowy plumage.

In the shadows of the hall the Hunter was preparing himself as well. From underneath the confines of his cloak the Griffon acquired a beautiful and intricate sample of machinery. At first look its purpose seemed unknown, a small, but highly compressed, tank of some form of gas formed the majority of the rear of the construct. A large revolving cylinder containing ten razor honed shafts of steel, each within individual barrels, formed the primary section at the front of the weapon. Below the revolving drum was a grip, allowing it to be held like a crossbow, though closer inspection revealed the grip to be secured into a rail of some kind, and from there attached via a mostly hidden pipe work to the tank in the 'stock' of the weapon.

A pump perhaps? To re-pressurize the weapon when it eventually ran out of air?

Between this pump and the revolving cylinder was a protrusion of some sort. Much like the deadbolt of a door in construction. This items use? Simple. It allowed the Hunter to cycle from one barrel of his weapon to the next, loading in a fresh bolt while maintaining the tight seal required to have the weapon function as designed. Pneumatics were so very picky like that. Unlike the purely physical system of a Crossbow, pneumatics required a lot more to get working...though with the right construction and wielder they were just as, if not more effective.

The dead that had fallen to the Hunter's bolts would tell you that much.

The question now remained however, as to what exactly the Hunter was going to do with his newly readied weapon. Was he going to waltz into the main room, taking aim and firing quickly, ending the life of his Quarry? Or was he going to wait, and have his Quarry come to him? As the griffon went over and prepared his, exotic, weapon for use, the question remained unanswered.

It would seem that only time will tell.

[Bow Strings]

Bow couldn't help but smile as they made for the doorway of the building. She could've shot, taken out the lead griffon and stopped them all but why bother? That's just a waste of energy that she didn't want to use right then. Instead she carefully roll onto her legs, levitated the musical weapon into the black case that held it and zipped it shut.

It didn't take long for her to put it on and slowly make her way down stares. She didn't panic or rush, she just calmly and silently walked down the staircase of the building she was in. Once on the ground floor she made a detour to the rear of the building, leaving out of the opposite side that the griffons were on.

She had no where to go now perhaps seeking her crazy bird would be the next best option.

[Kroll]

Kroll sighs in relief once he and the remainder of his squad make it to the rooftoop of the next building. He opens the door that leads inside and hurries them in before closing the door behind him. After a quick breather, they head to the ground floor and back out into the alleyways, keeping a tight diamond formation to avoid any surprises or ambushes on the way to their next rally point.

After a brief trek, made longer by the cautious moving from cover to cover, in fear that the marksman may still be about, Kroll and his squad made it to the rally point, an abandoned cafe of some kind. Regrouping with the scouts he sent forward earlier, Kroll sat down with the others and began discuss their plan of attack.

"So.." Kroll began as he poked at a stale French roll that was probably on that table since before the war. "Where is the current location of the target?" He stopped rolling the ancient bread around and looked up at the three scouts in front of him, waiting for one of them to sack up and give him an answer.

One of the scouts, who went under the reporting name Foxbat, stepped forward. "H-he's currently entrenched in a building 600 meters down from here at the end of the street.." the scout passed an old set of reconnaissance binoculars to Kroll for him to see the location for himself. "Big, blasted-out building, sir. Can't miss it."

"What is that, a bank?"

"No, sir...a hotel I think. Me and Backfin did flyover..whole thing's essentially shelled to pieces, so the target's only option would to be on the first floor of the building."

Kroll smiled slowly as he slid the binoculars back to the griffon. "Good...very good. Excellent work." He turned to the others to brief them on the plan. "Alright, you crusted heaps of gooseshit, listen up. This is it, the final push; we're going to capture Zweihander today, or we come back to Felkis with our talons empty and our tails tucked between our legs, got it?"

The guerrillas nod quickly as they watch Kroll take and old menu and flip it over, using a pen to scratch out a crude sketch of the building. They gather around their leader, not wanting to miss his instructions.

"Okay, here's the plan..."

[Kestrel]

It has been said, by many a scholar, pony and griffon alike, that animals are quite well attuned to the natural energies of this world. Unicorns are so well attuned they can actually shift and move some of these energies, these changes manifesting in what are most commonly known as spells.

Baring this in mind it would hopefully come as no surprise to an outsider that the Raven, using its own natural attunement, began to fluff and squawk, looking around its surroundings for a short while before flying back into the shadows and vanishing, taking perch upon its master's waiting shoulder.

Something had the bird on alert.

The Hunter noticed this and slunk further into the shadows, moving to view, partially, the room before him; the bird upon his shoulder soon calming and going quiet. The Hunter let the shadows caress him like the talons of a long lost lover as he all but vanished into them; their touch cool and soothing. The Hunter, though hidden well before, now was as close to invisible as any mortal could hope to be; none would know he was there until it was time. His eyes, serene and sharp, scanned the room before him; searching...wandering.

He spoke now, for the first time, but not in an audible way, no. His words were silent to all but himself.
"Something approaches." The Hunter mused, calm, cold words echoing about the hollows of his focused mind. He inhaled slowly, the dusty scent of the air filling his sinuses his talons silently to position the mysterious rifle at the Hunters shoulder; his eyes sliding closed as his thoughts continued. "Come then...my prey." the Hunter whispered to himself, his eyes slowly sliding back open. A cool, ethereal mist found itself wafting through his sharpened gaze, a perfect companion for the dissonant serenity present there already.

His talons held his strange weapons firmly against his shoulder, the sights unwavering, as the Hunter waited for something, anything to happen. One flick, one twitch, and a lethal spire of steel would be let loose, pushed by a deadly breeze, into the flesh and bone of whosoever was chosen to fall.

[Freyia]

"Where the hay are you?!" She flew fast right below the cloud line. She scanned the ground of every street and roof top she could. Finding him was the most important thing on her mind. After doing what the Prudentate had ordered her to do, she left it all behind. It was a pipe dream, to think she could be anything more than the maggot she was; to think that one day she could be a Valkyrie. No, she would forever be the crud scrapped off of every boot and gauntlet of these horrid griffons. Forever, till death finally grants her freedom.

These thoughts made her angrier and she picked up the pace. Even if the griffons would not acknowledge it, she was a Valkyrie, a chooser of the worthy, guardian of the slain. Finding Zweihander would prove it. She scanned more streets and roof tops, "Where are yo-...

On one roof top lay a dead griffon, a large pool of blood surrounded him. She quickly landed to investigate. He had been hit by some kind of magic, taken by surprise, obviously a sniper. Not long ago at all, the sniper could still be here. She took cover immediately. "What is going on here," Looking around, she could tell that there were more griffons, moving from cover to cover. They made their way into the building through a door. "Hmm," She said a small prayer for the slain before taking to the skies again, this time entering the cloud layer, barely sticking her head out to observe.

Something told her Zweihander was nearby, and that he will soon need her help.

[Johan Tercel]

The creak of skin on leather could be heard as Zweihander tightened his grip on his sword. Narrowing his eyes at the raven's rapid departure, he looked to the main entrance way. There were no ominous shadows of griffons in the door; no pony scavenger looking for scrap. As far as he could tell, there was nothing apparent that should have scared the bird off.

Which meant that it wasn't an obvious threat.

Remaining seated, he began to tense his body in readiness for the coming conflict. He wouldn't be caught by surprise, he insured that with his strategic positioning. Having a clear line of sight to all points of entry in the room, he was confident that he could interrupt any "ambush" with his sword.

[Kroll]

After a brief huddle, Kroll and three guerrillas from his squad advanced on the building in a tight "V" formation, while the other two griffons stayed behind to intercept the target should he make a run for it.

Once they reached the building, Kroll and his soldiers stacked up on the wall next to the door with one of them on the opposite side of the door. After a quiet count to three, Kroll kicked the door to the building open, and the soldier on the other side of the doorway threw in a smoke bomb. Once the entrance to the room was bathed in gray smokescreen, Kroll and his soldiers quickly filed in, slowly merging from the smoke like ghosts.

As they crossed the foyer, the griffons spreaded out trying to make the most of their otherwise neutralizing environment. Upon seeing Zweihander, Kroll and his squad raised their weapons at the purported traitor, ready to extinguish him at a moment's notice.

Kroll stepped forward, his crossbow aimed at the griffon behind the desk. He had managed to combine the two bows that he'd acquired from his fallen squadmates so that he could fire two bolts in rapid succession. Or at the same time, if he desired. Resisting the urge to shoot Zwiehander where he sat, Kroll forced himself to smile at his target. "Playtime's over, Mr. Zweihander. Now we can either do this the easy way, or the hard way, but I'm sure that even a traitor like yourself would prefer an honorable death, yes?"

[Johan Tercel]

Zweihander wasn't surprised by the smoke bomb. If Kroll was as smart as they gave him credit for, it was to be expected that the griffon would use tactics. What he didn't expect was only 4 griffons total entering the foyer... how many had Kroll lost? Regardless, the gray griffon began to speak.

"Playtime's over, Mr. Zweihander. Now we can either do this the easy way, or the hard way, but I'm sure that even a traitor like yourself would prefer an honorable death, yes?"

Zweihander gave them a condemned griffons glare.

I have no choice...I have to fight for my freedom. But how to go about this...

Standing up, he kept his sword in his grip, point down. He had no idea how he would escape. But he knew he would try, at the nearest opportunity.

[Kroll]

Kroll gave Zweihander a disappointed look as he saw the sword, keeping a firm grip on his crossbow. "Do not try anything stupid. I already lost three griffons because of you, and I don't plan to loose any more, understand?" He jerked his head to the side. "Now come out from around that desk. Slowly."

[Kestrel]

Unknown to the others naught but a few feet away from him, The Hunter lay waiting. He had moved since the focus had last been on him, not that it ever really was. His rigid positioning had been quickly broken down into a beautiful display of fluid motion the instant the smoke-bomb landed. Like Zwei Kestrel had been practically unfazed by the sudden eruption of smoke and mist within the room.

Unlike Zwei the Hunter took action upon the smokes arrival. His form moving from rigid to fluid in but an instant, his strange rifle holstered and his muscles flexing and flowing with a grace only a well hones predator can achieve. His experience allowed him to almost flow, silently, like water across the rubble strewn ground as he circled his prey and positioned himself behind the nearest guard.

His eyes told him the room beyond held six griffons in total; a fair number to the Hunter. Two of these were classified as Quarry, Zwei and Kroll being the two chosen for this rare and often lethal role. The others were but prey, obstacles to be observed and eliminated if possible. Most of his kind would have rushed into battle by now, roaring in joy as his blades tore into the flesh and bone of his fellow kindred before him, but the Hunter was not like most of his kind. No, he was patient, cool, calm, collected. A proper, terrifying predator that knew when to strike and when to let prey walk past in ignorant bliss.

"Do not try anything stupid. I already lost three griffons because of you, and I don't plan to loose any more, understand?" One of his quarry said, ignorant of what lurked just behind his guard in the fading smoke. The speaker was known as the Grey to the Hunter, for now. Sharp eyes scanned over the griffon from the safety of the shadows and rubble The Hunter had situated himself in. He was near the same age as the Hunter, of strong build and form, the occasional scar littering the Grey's body; A solider perhaps? Such a common profession these days. Shame, that predators had so fallen to becoming naught but pawns on this chessboard of war and strife.

The Grey's eyes were what the Hunter studied most of all however. Windows to the soul some said, a lifetime of watching and the teachings of his tribe had instilled an almost unwavering ability to scan the eyes of potential prey in the Hunter; without hesitation he turned this expertise on the first sample of his quarry and began to learn what he could. A spark here, a glimmer there. Aggression, disappointment, determination. Yes a solider most definitely, sent on some form of Hunt. The words from the Grey's tongue were rather telling in that regard.

The other that The Hunter followed, the one his scout had told him was the one being chased, The Brown as the Hunter called him for now, had said nothing. Due to discipline or some other reason was currently unknown. He seemed much more stoic and focused than the Grey, his eyes those of a trapped animal, a trapped predator. The weapon he carried was an interesting choice no doubt, such a large unwieldy blade it was.

The Hunter perked a mental brow at this as slowly he reached back into his cloak pulling free the fang-like blades he'd used earlier this day to slay a guard. A trespasser upon the stage before him, a threat to his life and his observation of his Quarry. The Hunter took no true sides in this battle, at least not yet. His choice to strike served only his own means. The Hunter took his aim quickly, with practiced ease. Then, he moved.

Suddenly and without warning the Hunter struck; body moving like a force of nature. His blades singing silent songs with precise lethal tones as they found their holds in the soldiers flesh. The first came from the side; digging into the neck as the griffon pulled his head backwards, a flex of his powerful chest and remaining free hand had the fang like blade biting deep into the eye socket of the guard before he had a chance to gurgle even slightly from the pain, pulling free in an instant as their wielder vanished into the shadows once more. Using the smoke, and his own skill to return to the dark hall where he once resided. Hidden again, his work left to be revealed by the smoke that was quickly fading; blades sheathing and Bolt Rifle coming out once more.

The Hunter mused to himself as he settled back into the shadows and set about watching the room before him without a single spoken word. Time to see what reactions his recent actions would reap.

[Kroll]

Kroll was about to say something to Zweihander when he heard a light thump behind him. He turned slightly, his focus on this target temporarily broken. He looks up at the other soldier in the room with a brief look of worry. He starts to turn back towards Zweihander, his bow still aimed at him. "So...it looks we're the only ones here..."

[Johan Tercel]

Zweihander looked at the gray griffon with a mixture of disgust and hate. He had been nothing but a thorn in his side since he had ambushed him today. He inhaled softly, fixing Kroll with an icy emerald glare. Taking a step towards the side, he began walking to the exit of the desk.

Outside, it began to thunder, as the storm got worse.

[Freyia]

Freyia sat in the storm clouds and watched as the griffons entered the building.

Alright, two guards outside. If I engage them, then I will be a traitor. I would probably have to desert the army. That is only worth it if they really are after Zweihander...they better be after Zweihander.

The white pegasus sulked into the clouds as the storm grew worse. Like the old tribal stories about the gods she would hear as a child hiding in the bushes, she hid in the storm, almost becoming one with it. Lightning cracked around her. She focused herself, ignoring the thunderous roars. Her eyes closed, her breathing stopped. Silently she prayed; an old Northr prayer of the storm. Patiently she waited for the right time, the strike that would signal her arrival.

The storm seemed to grow angry at her intrusion, cracking lightning and roaring loudly all around her. She did not move. Her spear locked on her arms, ready to act, urging her to strike.

She finished her prayer, and smiled.

[Kroll]

Kroll smiled at Zweihander as he eased his way out from behind the desk. "That's it...easy does it. No need to try anything now..." He moved behind his target, his crossbow still trained on the traitor as he ordered him to start heading towards the door. "Slowly now, unless you want to get shot."

Despite all the trouble he'd gone through to catch Zweihander, Kroll found that things were finally starting to work out in his favor, and he was glad that the griffons in his squad hadn't died in vain. At least, not entirely.

He nodded at the surviving guard. "Bring the body back to the rally point. We'll regroup there, then head back to 'Quarters." The guard nodded, and began to drag his fallen comrade out the door, muttering something about not signing up for this sort of thing.

[Kestrel]

The Hunter readied his weapon and lined up the sights as the results of his actions were seen. Grey was rather accepting of it all. Was that the word though? Accepting? Hmm perhaps not, but it would fit for now. Patient as always, the cloaked predator waited. The guard, following his orders, mumbled a minor complaint and began to move his fallen comrade.

Tsst.

The Hiss was a quiet sound, silent even, like that of a ghosts whisper upon a slow winter's breeze. And should the guard, Grey, or Brown hear it, it would be the only warning they would receive before the Guard jerked his head backwards as if struck by a powerful force. He fell naught but a few scant moments later, atop his comrade, soaking the both of them in a slow trickle of blood.

A length of sharpened, hardened, steel jammed firmly through his head.

It had entered at the meeting of the beak and facial tissue, in a small patch of fur/feather. Its honed tip eaisly sinking past the bone and flesh there to tear through the soft meats of the brain, severing its stem, before exiting the back of the head. Its silvery form glistened with a vivid crimson, small rivulets running along the bolts body.

Had they any reason to care about it, Grey and Brown would notice that unlike normal bolts this one was, while of the same general thickness, completely forged of metal. No feathers existed to guide its path, and the tip was made simply by rounding and sharpening the shiv into a razor sharp conical shape. The biggest difference however, was the length. The average length for a griffon or pony quarrel/bolt was around 20", this bolt was much longer. Should one somehow ignore the current scene and bring forth a measure of some sort, one would find this bolt to be a solid 24". A full two feet of silent, piercing, death.

The Hunter reached forward on his weapon and grabbed the mysterious handle from before. A quick pull/push of the bolt and the cylinder atop the Hunter's weapon rotated, locking another bolt into place. The mechanics of it all were smooth, and whisper quiet; ensuring that the Hunter would remain hidden.

Two down...and only his quarry left.

[Johan Tercel]

Zweihander remained impassive as Kroll's lackey was impaled with roughly two feet of metal. There was no way of telling who helped him, but that was irrelevant at the current moment of time. Now...there was business to be done.

Still approaching the gray griffon, he kept an even pace, appearing non threatening, even...compliant.

That could not have been farther from the truth.

[Kroll]

Kroll heard another thump and turned his head. Upon seeing the guard, he emitted a hiss of his own."Ssshit!" using the side of his crossbow, he forcefully nudged Zweihander out of the building. "Let's go! Move it! I've seen old griffons screw faster! Out the door, now!"

[Kestrel]

The Hunter moved his aim to the side, taking in the form of Grey as he did so. One twitch, that would have been all it would take. Then the Quarry would fall, life's spark extinguished.

But the Hunter held firm, and remained unmoving.

Why you ask? Simple, he was but observing for now. To interrupt would have been foolish, rude even. After all, it would seem that Brown had something planned.

[Johan Tercel]

Zweihander allowed himself to be led outside. He couldn't help but let a smirk escape his lips. The bloody griffon hadn't even prevented him from keeping his sword unsheathed. But, the first thing he had to do was figure out how much "help" Kroll had left.

As they exited the building, the smell of fresh rain and ozone reached his nostrils. The gray, shelled out street was completely wet, and the rain hammered down like so many tiny fists on his feathers. Lightning flashed in the clouds, and the sky was a twisting, turning maelstrom of black.

How ominous. Zweihander thought to himself, wiping the smirk from his face. He didn't know if Kroll had seen the smirk, and didn't care. All that remained was to execute his second gamble in the last few hours. It was dangerous, but his alternative was death at the hands of the savage Guerillas. That was quite... unneeded.

[Kroll]

Kroll smiled as he stepped out of the building, enjoying the change in weather. He sighed a little as the two guerrillas that stayed outside came up to meet with him, glad that they were still alive. "Alright, I want you one one side, and you on the other. Stay close, now..." Kroll looked back at the old shelled-out building. He'd have to go back for those two later. Turning back, he nodded at his two remaining squad mates, and they started heading back to the old cafe they used as a rallying point.

[Kestrel]

The Hunter watched without comment as his Quarry moved out of the
building, the griffon waiting for a moment before he himself turned and
moved back to the entrance he had used. The old broken window was just
as easy to slip through now as it had been before. The gaze of the
Hunter drifted upwards to the swirling mass of Thunderheads and angry
clouds above.

"Thank you." Kestrel thought to himself, muttering a silent thanks in another tongue to the sky before he turned to his Scout. A few moments of quiet staring and the bird flew off, into the sky and then over the city. It would follow the others, tell its master when to move and when to stay within the shadows. All without looking suspicious in the least.

Serene eyes and a calm smile faced forward as the Hunter, slowly, began to move forward down the alley he was in.

[Johan Tercel]

[i]So...there's two left, and Kroll. I'm liking these odds..."

Looking to the sky, Zweihandersaw a black shape in his peripheral vision. He suspected it was that raven from the hotel, but he wasn't especially sure. Regardless, it did not help him out at all in his current..."situation". The two Guerillas were a minimal threat; Kroll was the most apparent and lethal, problem with his double crossbow. Zweihander wouldn't walk away at this range if he was hit. But if he didn't act...

He wouldn't survive Feliks ministrations. Or Kroll's for that matter; both were sadistic griffons, that would take joy in interrogating a "traitor to the Kingdoms". With a sigh, Zweihander resigned himself to the pain that would soon occur.

With a quick motion, Zweihander turned with his sword outstretched to the gray griffon, aiming for his weapon.

[Kroll]

Kroll stepped back as he saw the blade coming his way, keeping his crossbow trained on Zweihander. The two remaining guerrillas raised their weapons as well. As far as he was concerned, Zweihander just tried to kill him, and according to doctrine, Kroll could respond accordingly by unloading both bolts into his opponent.

But for some reason, he couldn't. It was as if something was keeping him from pulling the trigger and ending this wild goose chase once and for all. But what was it? There was no clause in his order that kept him from shooting; the order was dead or alive. And even then, all but two of his squad members were dead, and killing the traitor would be the closest thing to closure imaginable...so what was keeping him from ending this?

And just then, it became clear, and Kroll couldn't believe that he didn't see it sooner: he'd left the safety on. He made a mental note to hit himself for that rookie mistake later. With a quick motion, he flicked the safety of his crossbow off, aimed at the griffon's right shoulder, and fired.

[Johan Tercel]

With a surge of hope, Zweihander thought he had succeeded in his gamble... until the griffon sidestepped his blade. Before Zweihander could re-compensate his swing, Kroll pulled the trigger. It appeared the crossbow misfired;now was the ti-

*thwip*

Zweihander felt the searing pain of a crossbow bolt embedding itself in his right shoulder. Piercing his flesh, he felt the bolt chip a bone. His right claw going limp with the pain, he barely managed to keep a grip on his sword with his left claw. Falling to his knees, Zweihander looked up at the gray griffon. Hissing in pain, he stared at Kroll with defiance and pride.

He had at least tried. But he wasn't done yet. With a snarl, he gave an adrenaline fueled swing with his left arm, sending the sword in a vicious crescent towards Kroll.

[Kestrel]

Behind the two battling griffons The Hunter lurked, staying hidden within the shadows as he moved. The Scout had lead him onwards, towards his quarry without much effort. The Raven now perched on a lamp post, preening itself as birds were prone to do. It's master?

He watched, and waited. Taking no part in the battle taking place a couple dozen meters before him.

[Kroll]

Kroll instinctively raised up his crossbow, hoping to stop Zweihander's sword from cleaving him in half. There's a loud thunk as the sword's blade embeds itself in the side of Kroll's crossbow, cutting the drawstring in the process. The remaining arrow goes hurtling into the sky in an arc, disappearing over a building.

Kroll pushes his now-ruined crossbow down and away from his body, the blade of his opponent's sword still lodged in it. He gives Zweihander a smirk as if to say "nice try" before delivering a kick to the wounded griffon's face.

[Freyia]

The white pegasus was still in the cloud waiting for the right time. Suddenly a bolt scraped against her armor, the cling barely ringing in her ears. She opened her eyes. Through the clouds she saw it, a gray griffon kicking Zweihander, two others watching, laughing. Her rage built up beyond her control. She closed her eyes again and said another prayer, this time a prayer for the deaths of her enemies.

The storm grew stronger, winds raging, rain flying in all directions, lightning flashes and thunderous roars cracked all around.

She finished her prayer, and smiled.

[Johan Tercel]

Feeling the kick impact the right side of his face, Zweihander was sent spinning with the force of the blow.

With a splash, Zweihander landed in one of the many newly formed puddles on the street. Laying on his right side, on his wounded shoulder, he opened his beak in a silent scream of pain. Blinking back tears, he used his sword as a support to get himself back up. Looking up at Kroll once more in pained defiance, he shook off the crossbow with one jerky motion.

[Kroll]

Kroll smiled at Zweihander again, though this time, it was a smile out of admiration.

"You know, as odd as it may sound, I really don't want to do this; you got a special shine to you, ya know? You're persistent; even now, you fight to stay standing, even though you've so clearly lost...admirable...but mistaken."

Kroll leans forward and presses down hard on Zweihander's injured shoulder with his foot. "It's sad, really. I would like to believe that at one point, would've been possible that we could've fought alongside each other, rather than against...but there's no point in musing over what could've been, is there?"

Kroll uses the claws in his paws to pinch the bolt lodged in Zweihander's shoulder and twist it back and forth.

[Johan Tercel]

Zweihander winced as Kroll put pressure on his shoulder as he began monologuing. The griffon was heartless; he was only egging himself on to inflict pain on Zweihander. Bracing himself for the pain, he gripped his sword tightly to focus himself.

Focus, focus...brace myself for th-

Opening his beak in pain, he felt the bolt twist and destroy his flesh even further. The pain was immense; even still, Zweihander never broke eye contact with Kroll. Never gave up his look of defiance.

[Freyia]

Soft whispers, lost in the thunderous roars of the storm leave her lips...

"Strength in mind..." Her wings begin to close in...

"Strength in body..." Her body folded, her head now towards the ground...

"Strength in spirit..." A flash of lightning and she was gone.

The bolt struck a tall building right next to the griffons in an deafening roar. The blinding flash lasting only fractions of a moment. The two griffon guards flinched and covered their eyes. When they finally opened them, in the space between was the white pegasus, arriving with the lightning, just like the stories.

Kneeling with her spear locked in her right foreleg tip down, she remained still, her eyes closed. As the guards moved to grab their weapons, she smiled.

The one to the right swung his polearm without skill. With a swift kick of her hind leg, her spear flipped around, her arm folding to go along with it. It connected with the weapon, lightning flashing as it did. Taking the returning force, she turned as her spear moved in the other direction, implanting the back end in the center of the griffon.

At the same time, the other griffon swung his polearm at her neck. As she turned, her head lowered, the weapon passing through her golden mane. Stopping her turn, she faced the second griffon, thrusting her tip into his gut after striking the first one.

Beginning to turn back, she swung the spear across the first griffons chest, slashing deeply in between his ribs and splitting his sternum with the force behind it. Blood sprayed into the rain drops and poured from the wound. The griffon spun the same way before falling face first onto the wet sidewalk.

With a twitch of her foreleg the spear unlocked from her armor and continued the momentum while she stopped. Lifting her head, her neck allowed the spear to move to her other foreleg. With a flap from her wings, she lifted into the air and with a twitch of her left foreleg, the spear locked into place. Using what is left of its momentum, she thrusts, putting the tip through the eye of the second griffon. As she falls back down, the griffon falls with her.

The whole event lasted only seconds.

Once planted she pulls out, placing the tip against the ground. The spear scrapes the ground as she turns to face the two remaining. Her eyes still closed.

After another lightning strike she stands up fully, pointing her spear at Kroll.

"Leave him be," the words barely audible over the storm. Her eyes open trained on the gray griffon. Other than that, she remained completely still.

[Kestrel]

Safe within the shadows The Hunter watched, ethereal, gold eyes blinking slowly. The display before him told the Hunter much about his quarries, and in this age information was more valuable than any precious stone or metal. Grey proved himself a lover of suffering, taking his time in doing what The Hunter would have hurried through. Brown, showed deiance still. A strong spirit, even now.

To the sides, the guards laughed. Cold, amused their chuckles were. The Hunter contemplated for a moment bolting them both. T'would be simple really, a flick, a twitch, and two, rapid hisses; then both would fall.

Yet again The Hunter held.

Above in the heavens the storm grew stronger, and the blood of the heavens pouring fast and hard as the sky slit open its veins. The Hunter did not waver however. His cloak kept him dry, and never once did the serene smile leave his beak. Puddles began to form soon after, leaving many a pool and pond upon the streets of Manehatten. The Hunters scout, fluffed up and preened, returned to its masters side, moving with little hops to reside under the dryness of The Hunters cloak.

Turning his head down a bit the griffon in the shadows let the rain begin to run along his masks beak, long feline tongue flicking forward with purpose, sampling the fluids running down its length. Rain, it was a sacred thing. Purifying the air, as well as the spirit. The rain too told the hunter much, and the information was recorded for later study. The griffon took his fill of the Sky's blood before he stopped again, his eyes having never once shifted from the scene before him.

What would happen next in the ever growing play?

The answer came in the form of a spear-maidens fury, quickly and skillfully delivered. The Hunter blinked slowly, The Scout barked. Ah, so The Hunter was not the only one to assist Brown? And such a flashy entrence. Had The Hunter been of little knowldege and control perhaps he would have swooned and broken into a wide grin. He knew the stories of the other tribes, and his own. It was impossible to miss the similarity to the scene before him. Yet he did naught but watch, same smile, and same eyes focused ahead; ethereal and calm.

"And what role do you serve, Valkyrie?" The Hunter thought with a silent, breathy chuckle. He knew the pony there to not be one pf the great spirits of ledgend, yet the title seemed to fit her for now, and so she should be named until the time for introductions came.

[Kroll]

Kroll looked at bodies of his remaining two squadmates, their open wounds pooling water like bloody wells. He sighed, shaking his head as he turned his attention the pegasus before him. "Long time no see, Freyia. I'm going to hazard a guess that Felkis managed to string you along for the hunt for this traitor here?" He jerked the arrow in Zweihander's shoulder with his paw again, this time in a circular motion.

Kroll shook his head. "You didn't need to kill the last of my squad though. That was a bit unnecessary, don't you think? If you'd just simply asked, I'm sure we could've worked something out so we could both get what we were promised...I take it they offered you to have the title of Valkyrie that's eluded you for so long?"

Though he never took his eyes off of the pegasus before him, Kroll was frantically searching for something he could use as a weapon before the air of diplomacy would leave them both.

[Sponsored content]