Open The Trenches Unsmudgables Spilling Sweet Wine

[Marble]

Miothiyle's greatest weakness was that she was often far too kind even in situations where she shouldn't be. It had led her into several ambushes in the past but as a warden she was supposed to help people and those in need on the road wasn't uncommon and it wasn't in her to leave them. She should have left quickly, instead of staying and helping the poor folk that she had accidently injured in her rush to escape.

Then there was the Meow, sharp and echoing through the streets. Her bow was out and arrow notched looking back along the street and standing over the casualty as she had been trained to do, protecting them from the fight. Figures descended into the street coming down from the rooftops and out of doorways and very quickly forming around where she was just standing. The vixen did not move holding her ground, bow pointed slightly down with the arrow not quite drawn referred to as a low ready. In an instant she could shift her draw and have a full power shot down range before most beasts could blink, and even then if she had to lose it where it was the deadly shaft would still punch through most armours.

As the strange uniformed group moved she would hesitate unsure of what to do, at the chaos around her. The weasel though managed to break out from the ambush and she had a shot on them, a quick flex and... no it was too risky, she would hit one of the others should she miss and further there was no threat from him as he took flight from the fight. She could step in to stop him but the situation was too chaotic to get involved and do the wrong thing or put herself in danger, plus she had a patient under her guard and getting in a fight would put them in risk. She swore but did nothing, this strange land with it's own laws and culture. It was better to not act and be chastised rather than act and end up in irons

 

[Mariel Rustyfangs]

Mariel was breaking at least a few records of speed climbing... at least in very lightweight kit-teen category for it. Digging all her claws into the walls and trying to get above and onto the roofs as soon as possible. Glancing down only occasionally to see if there are no weapons pointed towards her. It scared her just how many beasts poured out and surrounded the poor fellows on the street but as her mother taught her, heroics were better left to those who were capable of them. Even if she liked the archetype of being an adventurer, she was no hero, more a rogue than anything.

But glancing down and processing her own imagination at the same time made her not look too much up. She climbed at ludicrous speeds until the wall ended.

At which point she abruptly stopped by crashing her head into furry chest of somebeast.

In a split second before the confusion and concussion came in, she remembered that indeed, there were some beasts on the roof, overseeing this process.

But her mind blanked and she collapsed onto a mouse, instinctively clutching onto her dagger in case of any danger coming up.

 

[Ressik Pike]

Ressik did not stop running until the noise thinned behind him, the shouts dissolving into distance and then into nothing at all. He cut through side streets without thinking, over fences and through gaps he’d clocked at a moments glance, his body carrying him on habit alone until his lungs burned and the alley behind him was only another memory he refused to linger on.

When he finally slowed, it was beneath a sagging awning two blocks over, the stink of refuse and stagnant water rising to meet him. He waited there for a long moment, pressed into shadow, listening. Footsteps passed. Voices drifted. None of them were for him.

No pursuit.

A humorless breath slipped from his nose.

Ressik reached into his pocket and drew out the package, turning it once in his paw as if weighing it anew. Not worth it. Not tonight. Not after that. With a sharp, economical motion, he pried open a loose grate at the edge of the street and dropped it into the gutter below, watching it vanish into the dark with a soft, unremarkable splash.

Let them find it. Or not. Either way, it would no longer be his problem.

He straightened, smoothing his shirt as if nothing had happened at all, and slipped back into the flow of the Trenches without a backward glance. The job had gone wrong. That was nothing new. What mattered was that he was still breathing, still free, still unaccounted for.

Next time, he would be more careful.

Next time, there would be no mistakes.

 

[Daniil Ryalor]

As the arrest proceeded, Daniil was in high spirits. Sure, one of the targets had gotten away, but that hadn't been Daniil's fault; he'd successfully arrested the unknown conspirator, uncovering what might very well be a family conspiracy to destroy the Imperium. The more that he thought about it, the more it made sense in his head. Eirene was a former Verfolger, after all, and Bezine was a confirmed and avowed traitor and former MAUL member. The two would have every reason to work with Alkamar to undermine the Imperium's security. Morgan, as their daughter, could be placed aboard the Imperium's flagship, which would give her access to the prototype technology onboard. Hadn't he overheard something being said at the Ministry of War about the mission to Urk going badly because of translation problems in the negotiations? Daniil was willing to bet that Morgan had been that translator, probably deliberately undermining the peace in order to get Imperial beasts killed. There were probably even more acts of perfidity that Daniil had yet to uncover, but he was determined to unearth.

"Sir," Daniil reported to Dory, a chipper tone in his voice that matched the smile on his face. "The spy is secure, sir, and ready for transport. The contact got away, but we all got a good look at him, sir, so he won't go far; and, once we break her," he gave at nod toward Morgan, "I'm sure she'll give up her contact. I'd call this a resounding success, sir."