Knights of the Realm ch. 4: Lies, Deceit, and Hidden Secrets

[Raiden]

Thomas slowly came back to consciousness, a foul smelling liquid placed under his nose. As he snorted away the fumes, the small beaker was pulled away.

Thomas took in his surroundings. He was in a vast throne room, and he could see the taxes of the city populace at work. There was gold wherever he looked, and rare jewels were tossed around like cheap baubles. A chandelier, which honestly looked like it was completely made of diamonds, hung from the ceiling, which had to have been 50 feet off the ground.

Thomas himself was attached to a metal platform with wheels. Chains hung from his neck, wrists, and ankles. The chains dangled down and attached to thick steel bolts on the platform. He wore his disguise clothing. His armor and swords were most likely stuck in some storage room somewhere. He couldn't find Samuel anywhere. He hoped that the hawk had enough smarts to fly to a safe spot. There was always the chance that the bird had been shot down with an arrow, but Thomas kept that from his mind.

In front of Thomas was a long, velvet carpet, lined with very large guards armed with pikes or longswords. The carpet lead from Thomas's platform to a very large throne. And on that throne, sat King Roland the VII. The king had an unpleasant smile on his face.

"Well, you're finally awake. I must say, I'm a little disappointed. I expected you Knights to charge the gate, not sneak in like common thieves. Speaking of which..."

King Roland turned to a messenger next to him.

"What's the status on the Thief of Life?"

The messenger bowed slightly.

"He was not captured with the Knights. It's suspected that he hid himself amongst the performers. We are currently interrogating every captured prisoner. We should find him soon."

"Good. Very good."

King Roland refocused his attention on Thomas. He laced his fingers, and sat down deep in his cushioned chair.

"Now, where are my manners? A good host should always keep his guests comfortable. I used the good chains for you and your friends. How do they feel?"

Thomas spat, the saliva hit the shining tile with a small splat, and stood out greatly against the otherwise clean floor.

"I've been better. You couldn't give me a pillow or anything, could you?"

*Meanwhile*

A guard clacked his sword against the iron bars of the cell. The Knights were all inside the cell, attached to strong chains. Kratos was truly covered in chains, his strength a known factor.

"Alright, kiddos. Time to take your medecine."

Several soldiers went into the cell, carrying small potions.

"These potions will erase your disguises so we can correctly identify you."

Some of the Knights shyed away from the beakers. The guard smirked.

"Look, either you be good little Knights and drink up your medicine, or we'll slip it into your drinking water later on."

[lazy man]

Rulick had obviously lost his disguise already, but the guards seemed to like seeing him squirm as they shoved a potion down his throat. Coughing loudly after they were finished with him, he gave them a glare when they weren't looking because he knew if they were looking, they would probably beat him or kill him. He wished he could call them bastards, but that would result in something much worse than the glare.

It hadn't been long since he'd woken up from his small beating outside, and already he was being treated like crap again. These were the people he'd saved, and now they were him and the other knights like this. It was truly pathetic, but now wasn't the time to worry about it. He had to look for a way out, anything. And then he saw it, something he hadn't seen in years, not since he'd been stabbed in the shoulder by that glowing knife that one thief had. It was a Demon Mark.

He'd never really known what they were, but he knew that he got some sort of ability from them, so maybe this would do something to him. The demon mark was on part of a rusted old chain that had broken long ago, possibly of age, attached to the body of a dead body. He needed to get that broken part of the chain...

Reaching with his legs, he slowly raked the broken chain link over to him, and then, when it was close enough, he flipped the link up to his chest and grabbed it, making sure to keep his fist clenched around it so the guards wouldn't notice. He didn't really know what he had to do with it right now, but he knew he needed this small, glowing piece of metal to do it. Looking around at the rest of the knights, he gave them a look to make sure that they stayed quiet until the guards left. He didn't want them asking why he'd just dragged a small, rusted piece of metal over to himself.

ooc: Remember everyone, only Rulick sees the mark, so the rest of you only see him dragging a small piece of metal over to him for no reason at all.

[Fuzzydoom]

Damion lies on the ground beside Jilleen (You're still Jilleen right?) and sporadically coughs up blood. He turns towards her and whispers "Seems your pig sticker nicked me on the way up," he coughs violently and splatters blood all over the floor. Then, noticing Rulick's glance, he says in a louder voice "You lot wouldn't happen to have a potion to stop internal bleeding wqould you? Didn't think so.". Suddenly, the scars across his body begn to pulse, and his body is engulfed in darkness. So shocked are the gaurds that they don't even think to cry out a warning before they are knocked unconcious by Damion's Shadow Avatar. He reverts back to his regular self, seats himself upon the floor, and coughs blood all over the unconcious gaurds. "These weapons will have to do until we can get to either the armory or where ever they're holding your weapons." He coughs blood again, "I'm starting ot feel weaker by the second, I can probably get you to your weapons, or through the armory, which I believe is 3 floors up and to the right, and on to an audience with the kng before I collapse. Choose quickly please." With this Damion stumbles and just manages to catch himself on the wall. His scars once again begin to pulse.

[Raiden]

(OOC: Important stuff is going to come up. Hence, no breaking into the throne room until the go-ahead is given. And since you guys took the potions, you're back to your original forms.)

[Fuzzydoom]

OOC: so how bout we go grab our weapons? or should we just sit tight?

[wilysword]

Adin had been taken to the mass cell with all of the circus performers, which was what he wanted. It wasn't hard to blend in, but as the guards came to interrogate people one by one, it wouldn't take them long to figure out the one person who had recently joined the show, along with a certain suspicious group now under arrest. But before that happened, he had his own interrogation to do.

Finding Pilo wasn't too hard. Only having been with the show for mere days longer than Adin himself, he had few friends, and the accident with the rope had convinced poeple he was unlucky. He nursed his broken arm alone in a corner, and didn't look up when Adin came over.

Quietly, so as not to attract unwanted attention, Adin said simply, "Why?"

Pilo's answer was just as quiet, but in a firm tone of voice. "Jealousy." Had Adin been one to show his emotions a little more, he might have gasped in surprise. Instead he merely grunted.

"You tried to kill me out of jealousy?" he said incredulously.

"Not exactly. I would have been the best thief in years, if it weren't for two people: you and Arlen. I joined the Shadoweyes to see if this was deserved praise; it was. I cut the rope for the same reason, to see if you were good enough to deserve the title 'best'. I expected you to save yourself, but I never expected you to save me as well. Not only a better thief, but a better man."

Here he paused, looking at his arm for a moment before continuing. "I know you can't trust me now, nor should you. I've already arranged for another Shadoweye to meet you when you escape." Another pause, and, as if reading Adin's mind, Pilo added, "Yes, when, not if. Maybe we'll meet again sometime, when I've come to grips with being third-best."

The guards entered the cell again, headed directly for Adin and Pilo. "You, with the broken arm. Come with us," they said, roughly grabbing Pilo by the shoulder.

"No need for that," he said pleasantly. "This man right here is the legendary Thief of Life," he added, gesturing to Adin. The guards stood for a moment, shocked by this bold statement, then pulled something like a potion out of a pouch. For Adin, it was more than enough time.

Standing smoothly as the guards approached, his arm snaked through one's attempt at a block, crushing his windpipe. The other started to draw his sword, but Adin had somehow gotten behind him, and his neck was broken before he quite figured out how.

"Check the weapons room," advised Pilo. Drawing one of the guards' daggers, Adin dragged the bodies outside the cell, the circus people crowding out of his way; if the were honest about it, the guards shouldn't hurt them too much.

The cell locked once again, Adin dissapeared into the twighlight corridors, making his way to the weapons room.

[Astral Harmony]

Jilleen...no, Adellah grit her teeth as her body changed back, her larger limbs being crushed by the chains. She was righteously pissed, and her eyes reflected this, glowing with a dangerous crimson red. Her face an expression of pain, she slung her limbs forward and...very literally ripped the chains out of the walls, blood dripping down her chin. She quickly flexed her muscles and, in excrutiating pain, broke the cuffs. She was on her hands and knees, coughing blood and breathing exhaustedly even before the chains hit the ground. Slowly, she came to her senses, and realized where she was. Where they all were. Adellah quickly got up, realizing that she was still wearing the dancing dress but finding it mostly useless. The dress had seen better days, to be sure. It hung off of Adellah like a well worn cloak. She didn't seem to care, really. "Oh, they are gonna get it," Adellah said darkly, then came to another realization. "I haven't felt a blow that powerful since one year ago, when fighting those Englasians. Did anyone get a look at who they were?"

Adellah quickly shook her head. "No, not important." She then went over to Cecilia and worked on breaking her chains. It got harder and harder to do, as Adellah's hands became sweaty, and bruises were slowly forming in her palms, but she didn't relent, focused to the task at hand. They were all probably in the most hostile territory that they could be in. King Roland's castle. They might just need all the help they could get.

[Toastburner B]

Nathaniel was glad the cell was dark. That way, no one could of seen he had been crying.

Seeing the Englasian in the bandit group had reopened a wound Nathaniel thought had healed long ago. Every time he slept since, it was the dream about his village being attacked...and of the death of Rachel.

Still...he couldn't afford to think about that now.

Nathaniel sat calmly in his chains. He sat calmly as the guard, even though his magical disguise had already been removed, came over an poured the foul tasting liquid down his throat. Nathaniel didn't struggle, didn't say a word. He just gave the guards a apprasing look...and snorted. Any one of the Knights were worth a hundred of these guys.

And they proved it, quickly. After Damion fell the guards, Nathaniel slid over and tore the keys off of one the guard's belt. It took him a few tries...there were more than one key on the ring, but he nodded with satisfaction when the lock fell away with a click. After shrugging off his chains, he threw the keys to Adellah. "Those might make it a little easier." he said.

He picked up a weapon from one of the guards, a short sword they all seemed to carry...and scowled. "At any other time," Nathainel said, "I wouldn't be caught dead with a weapon of his quality. His Highness doesn't seem to think his guards deserve the best."

Nathaniel leaned his head out into the hallway beyond the cell. "It's clear for the time being."

((OOC: By the way...to avoid future OOC posts, I'm taking the liberty of opening a discussion thread. Hope no one minds.))

[Raiden]

"Not so sarcastic now, are you? Do you still feel like spitting on the clean floor?"

King Roland watched with sadistic amusement as Thomas was pummeled with clubs. There were three soldiers standing around him, each brandishing clubs tipped with bronze. They took turns flailing Thomas on the back, face, and stomach with their large sticks. After a few moments, they stopped. Thomas's face was beaten, but luckily not broken. A flow of blood dripped from his left nostril, the left corner of his lip was bulging with a purple bruise. His left eye, the normal one, was clenched tight from swelling. His ribs were bruised, and one might even be a little cracked. But even with his injuries, he gave out a chuckle.

He deliberately spat again on the floor. This time, his saliva was mixed with blood, leaving a dark crimson splatter on the tile.

"Thanks. I thought the floor needed a little color."

One of the guards bashed Thomas in the back with a club.

"Now now, can't we be civil about this? Surely the Hawk Knight has better manners than this."

Thomas rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve some of the soreness.

"Cut the crap, Roland. Let's get to the point. You sent assassins after each of the Knights, knowing full well that the assassins would never have been able to defeat us. Why?"

"Why? Simply, my good boy. The assassins were never meant to kill you. They were simply used to bring you here, to me."

Thomas looked up at King Roland, his shaggy blonde hair now stragged across his face.

"And why would you want us here? I would have thought that it would be in your best interests to keep us as far away as possible."

King Roland frowned a bit. He stood up, and looked at the soldiers lining the walls.

"Out. All soldiers will report to castle routine patrols until further notice. No one is allowed in this room except for the Royal Protectorate. Now, out!"

A vast majority of the soldiers silently left the rooms, most going to their new patrols, others taking the chance to go into town for some fun. The only ones left in the Throne room were Thomas, King Roland, his wife Nerrana, and a small group of very big guards. Thomas could only assume that they were Englasian. Once the room was cleared, King Roland sat back down. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a smile vial.

"I wanted you here, Hawk Knight. I wanted you, and the other Knights, here. To suffer. To pay for what you did to me. What you stopped me from doing one year ago."

[Lycanthrope]

Devon Groaned and got to his feet "Not thinking of leaving me behind, are we?" he said with a wince. "I may not be at my best, but I'm still probably faster than the vast majority of the guard here." Reaching down to one of the guards. "I want my sword back. Its been too long since I felt it's weight in my hand. Lets get this over with. Damion, lead the way to the armory"

Meanwhile, on the castle grounds, a gray form flitted from wall to wall, tracking the guard to the central keep. There, waiting, he moved in a blur past the guards, then with superhuman speed scaled a wall and ducked into a window. There the hunter took a moment to get the baring of his position.

"Hey--!" a guard started to say as he turned the corner, however before he had a chance to finish, there was a flash of silver. The man didn't get a chance to finish as the sword, Flurry, severed his vocal chords. No blood was splattered: the sword did a spectacular job of keeping things neat, as the body fell, lifeless and bloodless to the ground. The Hunter heaved a shuddering sigh of extacy as the man died. a shame you were merely human he said as he sheathed Flurry and lifted the body. He would have to find a place to store the guard's corpse.