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He had gathered up enough coin to return to Vantalux if he wanted more jobs or even ride back to Fumehat to drink and relax for a few days. But his days at The Wharf had taught him that he needed a specific goal in life. Something meaningful that he could do that would change the course of his existence instead of just coasting by. So Kris chose to board the train to Haven, a place he had never visited in his travels until now. It was said that Haven was the place to go for both pleasure and sin, so there was most likely fair game for a Mercenary.
The young man bought the cheapest ticket possible and boarded, finding an empty seat by the window and collapsing harshly on the rough cushioning. It would take several hours to reach his destination, so Kris shut his eyes and allowed the rumble of the train to carry him off to sleep. Though as time drifted, Kris would slowly wake up to find an old man sitting in the chair next to him. He was a kindly looking grey haired man of humble appearance with plain clothes and a tired demeanor.
"Hello there." He said. "I saw the marking on your forearm when you were buying your ticket. Mercenary?"
Kris groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat himself up, nodding to the man. "Uh yeah, that's me. Kris...why do you ask? Got a job or something?"
The man nodded back, leaning in his chair and scratching his scraggly short beard. "Call me Tim. I have a package to retrieve in Haven that is of the utmost importance. There are...less than reputable folk watching over the place and waiting for the chance to steal it. I can't risk authorities searching the crate, so trains are out and I lack the skill or strength to defend the cargo during transport. I need to get to Vantalux from there at all costs...and you will be handsomely rewarded."
The Merc stretched outward and yawned loudly. "Sounds simple enough. Guard duty. I take it you can't tell me about the cargo, but hell if it matters to me. Secure the cargo and the transit and I'll meet up with you at the tavern. Buy me a drink and we'll be square. Sound good?"
The two both shook hands and spent the remainder of the trip hammering out the details. Kris was able to ascertain a few more details about the cargo such as it's weight and dimensions but the contents were still a mystery. Payment was discussed and argued, a path was laid out to Vantalux, and supplies were figured out for the trip.
After a few more hours, the train came to a halt in front of Haven. As they departed the transit, Kris parted ways with Tim as the man set off to secure passage for the journey. Kris himself sighed at the thousand steps and began the ascent to the hill, though already pleased with himself for finding a job so quickly. With what little money he had, the red head made a beeline to the tavern. The Merc was starving and sober, so that would be the first thing that he would take care of. He walked in and set down a coin at the bar with a self assured grin on his face.
"Can I get a sandwich and some cheap drink to wash it down?"
The lady at the bar gave a curt nod, took the coin, and reached for a glass that he set down and promptly poured some green drink into. He plopped it down in front of Kris and grinned.
"Milk is good for a boy, I'd say. Let me go get you a sandwich, okay?"
Kris raised a brow at her, feeling like he was being mocked somehow, but he was in far too good of a mood. He took a sip of the drink and smiled at how sweet it was...it wasn't even alcoholic! This was already turning out to be a great day! Now he just had to wait for Tim to come by and they could get the rest of the plan underway.
The wind gently brushed Ezra's face, the sun shining down in it's typical glow on another bright day. Perched atop a wagon, the vagrant listened to the wheels bumped against the earthy ground, the clomping sounds of hooves beating drum-like notes to the sound of journey. As he sat with Mirage's staff resting against his neck, his eyes and ears were on high alert, despite his yawning and tired demeanor. It had felt like a long trip, and a rather ordinary and boring one also. When he was approached during the very early parts of the morning about providing protection to Haven, Ezra didn't really question it. He had just finished ferrying someone, and so he was a bit tired, but it was the job of the vagrant that he had decided to take up.
The contents of the wagon were curiously playing at his mind, as he wasn't informed of the concealed product. The rather ragged, shady appearance and secretive way they communicated was...questionable for a law abiding citizen, but honestly Ezra had seen far more sinister acts from people adorned in jewelry and eccentric ways of speaking. Something is Ezra just saw a fairly poor, meek transporter in the younger woman who didn't want to draw much attention. Probably for the best around these parts...or any real parts for that matter.
Didn't make the journey any less boring though. The cloaked, quiet wagon owner hadn't said a word since she enlisted Ezra's aid, and even the dirt roads were clear as the eye could see, save for the occasional wildlife which seemed to keep their distance. Anyone of them that decided to get a little to close, Ezra could give them a little swat of his vel controlled sand to spook them away. He should probably count his blessings, considering the hostility of the lands, and what he has to deal with before, but part of him just wanted it to be over with. Though their destination being Haven didn't entirely excite him either.
Being that Ezra wasn't the most wealthy of individuals, it was rather obvious that the vagrant was a fish out of water in the city, and more so when wealthy customers made it a point to bring up his lack of upbringing in the upper class.
"We are here." The woman said in a rather monotone pitch and woke Ezra from his thoughts. He peered over to see the towering steps and station for the trains end destination. It seemed they had unloaded not to long ago and were prepping the next cargo and passengers, as always. There was rarely rest for transporters, or vagrants that accompanied most of them. "We'll be meeting our receiver over there."
While the trains had their own station, the other forms of transit were cobbled together, with various people mingling and idly chattering about their travels or what they planned on doing in Haven. Pulling a little ways off, Ezra gave a wide stretch and pushed himself to his feet before jumping from the hood of the wagon. As the woman gathered her things, Ezra's eyes peered over to the insides of the wagon, trying to get a beat on the insides, but the sound of approaching footsteps made him stop. "I see that you are both safe and secure! This is wonderful!" An older gentleman spoke joyfully, almost relieved, as he paced himself over to the transporter.
The woman seemed to remove one of her gloves and reveal something to the man before slipping it back on, being handed a sum of, what Ezra presumed coin, in a small poach. The woman gave a silent nod before setting off towards the rest of the gathered transporters in a hurried, excited manner. Ezra's brow raised in slight wonder and he watched the woman slip away, but it didn't last long before the man approached him a gave a swift response. "Mark?"
Ezra jumped and looked at the focused man, unsure of what he meant. "You know. Merc? That one." He whispered as his stare seemed to bear a strong sense of diligence, burrowing into his soul. "How did you-?" Ezra never told anybody about his origins as a mercenary, nor did anyone really ask. It mattered little to most, but this man seemed insistent.
"I have my sources, but worry not. You are an ally in my time of need. All I need to know is if you are the correct man I am looking for." Ezra inquisitively watched the older man with narrowed eyes. Why did Ezra's past matter to this man? Still, he seemed...trustworthy, to a degree. Ezra couldn't really see any malicious intent in the man, and Ezra couldn't imagine things getting any worst if the man already had somehow found out about his origins.
Hesitantly, and after checking their surroundings, Ezra lowered his scarf to reveal the branding on his neck from his days in the mercenaries. The man eyed the mark with suspicion for what felt like several minutes before clapping his slightly wrinkled hands together in a clap. "Excellent! The name is Tim, and I will be providing further details for the next part of the journey."
"Next part? I didn't think-" The man named Tim jostled the young vagrant over to the wagon, removing a single piece of cargo. Just one. It had several holes punched through it and wasn't the heaviest, nor especially the largest. Still, the man seemed especially careful with the contents, and handed it to Ezra gently. "Come, come. There isn't time to waste! We have a friend waiting, and we mustn't keep them waiting! You must be very gentle with that though."
While Ezra wasn't sure why the man had given him the package if it was so important instead of carrying it himself, those were thoughts best saved for knowing the full story. "We are to meet at the tavern at once. Hope you don't mind the steps!" The man laughed at his jest, to which Ezra sighed and shifted his hold on the package.
The hours ticked on by in the tavern as Kris awaited his newfound employer. There were several preparations to be filled, so it would take the old man a decent amount of time to set things up. In the meantime, Kris hunkered down at the bar and chatted up the locals. Though the sun was going down and the more degenerate types came out with scrupulous intentions, so he chose his words carefully to avoid any altercations. It was mostly the lay of the land, figuring out what Haven was like, and the general client tell of the tavern he was currently occupying.
It was a very warm common room with a blazing fire lit in a large fire place. A trophy of a large boar hung over it with it's mouth gaping open in a fierce battle cry. Unlike the bars at Fumehat, the tables were of sturdy wood, well kept, and clean enough to eat off of. Most patrons were merrily singing or chatting in proper tones and the atmosphere felt cozy. It put Kris in a worried disposition, constantly looking around for someone to stab him in the back. There was no way that people were this nice, so when would shit hit the fan?
After devouring the first ham and cheese sandwich, Kris ordered a second one with another glass of the green milk and thanked the strange bartender before making his way to a table in the corner. It was perhaps an hour's time before he noticed Tim walk through the doorway with a dark skinned man in tow, though curious enough...he was carrying a small crate. Was that the cargo? Kris waved them over to the table which the old man casually sat as if he had no care in the world.
"It's good to see you again, my friend. I trust you didn't go and get yourself drunk?"
Kris shrugged and shook his head. "Nah, just passing time. Despite what you may think, I am a professional. So who's this?"
"This is our courier! He will be providing us with transport to our destination, though we may need to offer introductions later."
Kris raised a curious brow as he bit into his sandwich. "And why is that?"
"Because we've been followed." His eyes darted slowly toward the other end of the tavern where a small group was settling down and not doing a great job of blending in. "They're already onto us..."
The Merc slowly nodded, cramming the rest of his food and downing it with his drink. "Alright then, you two make your way toward the transport. It's dark out so stick to the shadows. I'll tail these guys when they leave and we converge on them in the alleyway." He made a gesture of pounding his fist into his palm. "With them taken out, we get the hell out of here. Square?"
As if to spite Tim as well, Kris stuck his hand out with a grin. "Kris, by the way. I hope your as tough as you look, bud. Since we're gonna be fighting our way out."
The trip into Haven was about as standard as it got. It was long, tiring, and mundane. Guess it would be strange if climbing a large number of stairs was anything else. Still, it seemed odd to Ezra how nobody seemed to pay the two any mind despite their rather ordinary, middle-class appearance. Then again, he was likely just overthinking things considering his prior experiences in Haven. Not everyone that lived in Haven was royalty or rich, but they certainly were the ones that made it's citizens believe that they were the only ones that mattered. Such is the power of wealth, Ezra supposed.
Trailing close behind the elderly Tim, who marched with purpose through the streets, the two keeping an eye and ear open for anything suspicious. It wasn't long before they made it to their destination. A rather simple looking tavern, nothing particularly stand out within Haven's boundaries. As they entered, Ezra was hit with a wave of jovial and lively partying, something that the young man was wholly inexperienced with. Crowds tended to not settle well with the independent loner, but even more so when they social butterflies. It wasn't too rowdy or sophisticated though, seeming much more 'homely' than, from Ezra's experiences, most other cities taverns and pubs.
"Ah, over there. He got us a table." Tim's voice woke Ezra's hawk like eyes from their hunting to look over towards a red haired male of similar bodily structure to his own. The male waved them over, Tim easily flowing over towards the table and sitting, compared to Ezra's rather stiff and robotic movements. As Ezra sat slowly, his eyes continued to wander with caution. His mind had all but forgotten that he had been carrying the crate that Tim pushed into his arms as the two passed idle conversation. Ezra typically didn't pay much interest in the chatting of others unless it regarded him, so when the red head questioned who Ezra was, the vagrant turned to join the conversation at his own steady pace.
Tim filled in the basics. About what Ezra's job in this was, but the older gentleman cut the conversation short as he pointed out something that Ezra had picked up since they entered Haven. "So you noticed too." Ezra responded in a hushed, ragged tone. Seemed that Tim was fairly attuned to this type of stuff, making Ezra more curious as to what the crated contained and the man's intentions. Peering carefully over his shoulder, the vagrant saw a group moving in unison over to a table, not really bothering to try and fit the atmosphere. They looked rather vicious, not like a typical street rat. Hired thugs or assassins likely. Judging from their appearance though, didn't seem to be of high class descent, nor did that appear to be exactly the most energy fueled. It was very likely that they have been tailing Tim for some long time, but the man always eluded them.
Ezra turned back towards the other two with a nod of acknowledgement towards the red head. "Sounds as good a plan as any." A simple response as he took the offered hand in a shake. "Ezra, and I know my way around a blade. Let's take the fight to them, shall we?" Ezra gave a slight smirk to match Kris' enthusiasm before motioning with his head. "Alright Tim, let's get going. The longer we wait, the more of them that might show up."
Tim's prior eagerness seemed to waver slightly, but he nodded quickly and the two swiftly slipped out of the building, cargo still in Ezra's tow. Following Kris's advice the two slid to areas of the city that were less lit and watched. Alleys and shady districts that were roundabout paths to their destination, but far more safe than the open if they wished to elude their pursuers.
"They seem to be gaining." Ezra said aloud to Tim as he led the way through the night concealed streets. Shoving the crate into the man's shaky, confused hands and pulling out Mirage from it's slumber, Ezra pushed Tim forward hurriedly. "Once we cut this corner, make a beeline to the transport unless you feel you are being followed, then find safety in the shadows. Kris and I will take care of your hunters."
Tim seemed to want to contest the idea, but silently nodded with a heavy breath as the two cut their next corner. Just as Ezra suggested, Tim darted away from the vagrant as fast as his body could carry him and Ezra whirled around with Mirage tightly gripped in his hand. With his free hand, he pulled it through the air to draw out the vel controlled sand from within Mirage that he had gathered on his trip to Haven. The gravel and sand flowed out like a serpent through the air with Ezra's focused gaze staring at the corner. With a flick of his wrist, the sand exploded into a dust devil that stormed around him.
Just as predicted, one of the followers quickly rushed around the corner with light foot steps, only to be met with Ezra's trap. Like a ant lion, the man was met head on, startled by the sudden attack. With the momentary confusion, Ezra quickly gripped mirage with both hands and, using the non-bladed end of the Was-Staff, swung hard at the man's face. As it connected and the thug reeled, Ezra stepped back, sweeping the weapon to knock the man off his feet.
With one temporarily down, Ezra threw the twister of sand forward, hoping to catch the others as he darted forward within the cloud of concealment.
He kept his head down, sipping at his drink as his new companions vacated the building. In the corner of the room he waited and watched for the thugs to make a move and it was only a matter of time before they started to get antsy with their quarry. There was no way they could afford to allow that crate to escape them and Kris was just one man hardly worth their time, after all. Just as he predicted, the lot of them rose from their table to trail after Ezra and Tim in a hurried clamor.
"Here's where the fun begins." He murmured, swallowing the rest of his drink in one gulp and resting it carefully on the table.
Kris slid from his chair and sauntered toward the door while giving a short wave to the bartender, who waved back with a small giggle. The red head stepped out to the cool night time breeze and took a moment to appreciate the quiet...it wouldn't last. This was a city of luxury with guards everywhere which meant he needed to be fast with his execution. Would these thugs have orders to take them alive? Most likely they were only told about Tim, but these thugs didn't look professional at all, so they wouldn't be quiet or subtle.
He grasped the hilt of Carmilla as he trailed quietly along the shadows of the buildings when he heard a curious sound around the corner. Raising an inquisitive brow, Kris pressed his back against the wall and shimmied toward the corner to peak around to see Ezra whipping sand all over the place! The remaining three were already beginning to encircle the deadly vagrant, but they had their backs turned to Kris.
The Mercenary grinned wickedly and dashed out from his hiding spot straight towards the man on the left. His feet padded along silently as he unsheathed his blade and slid the sharp Vanta over the man's throat. In a swift maneuver, Kris gripped the side of the thug's head and pressed skin against metal as he yanked the sharp edge across his jugular. Blood erupted from the wound and the dying man fell to his knees as he gripped his throat in vain, but Kris paid him no more attention. He activated the sword's gimmick, swinging it's weight roughly toward the man on the far right and the blade snapped into a whip that shot past the middle man and wrapped tightly like a snake to constrict the right's throat.
Kris tugged with all of his strength to pull the gasping man off balance and crashing into his friend. The gimmick released, freeing his throat and changed back into a normal blade. Just as the two collided together, Kris kicked forward into a sprint and thrust Carmilla forward to impale them both like shishkabob.
He tore and dug in deeper to ensure their inevitable deaths and ripped the weapon free violently to let them drop like a pair of rag dolls upon the floor below. His eyes narrowed and a faint snicker escaped his lips at the blood that leaked down the sullied sword.
"There's more coming. No way that they sent four guys, Ezra." He glanced at the darker skinned man and nodded with a wide grin. "I don't want to be anywhere near here when their buddies or the Enforcers show up. So how about we make a mad dash out of here, yeah?"
As the group rounded the corner at a hastened pace, Ezra smashed head first into the first of the pack, staggering him just long enough for him to shove the full group back. With the defense secured and the field of combat obscured by his vel power, Ezra grabbed a hold of the man's neck and charged forward into the stone wall. Taking his sand controlled power, he rammed it forcefully into the man's eyes, causing him so wail in pain before the Vagrant elbowed him powerfully in the face and tossed him into one of the still standing thugs.
But Ezra was outnumbered. There appeared to be at least three more remaining, and he only had the advantage before because of the ambush. As he quickly repositioned himself into the shroud of sand and took a defensive stance with Mirage guarding him staunchly. As the remaining men gathered themselves and began encircling the vagrant, another figure burst from the darkness. It was difficult to see in the moonlight and shadowy alley, but Ezra had his suspicions. Timing was everything, and it seemed that he wasn't as outnumbered as he believed.
Much like his own training, Ezra watched Kris slid up to the first of the criminals and, without hesitation, executed him on the spot with a throat slit. Though Ezra couldn't predict the sword launching out like a lash immediately after, which stunned both himself and the middle of the goons. In a rather violent display, Kris gutted the two men simultaneously with prime combat experience. It reminded Ezra a great deal of-
Tuning out his thoughts of the past and of Kris from his mind, Ezra noticed that the first of the thugs that he knocked down was beginning to stand once more, only partially dazed. Taking the momentary distraction as an opportunity for attack. Ezra spun mirage before jabbing the hilt of the staff into the man's gut. As the man sputtered a gasp of surprise, looking towards his assailant, the vagrant side stepped the man and slashed a gash against the hamstring of the man.
Watching the man collapse in pain and agony didn't bring joy to Ezra, who stared down at the criminal with a cold, unfeeling glare. He often didn't even feel human during missions. It wasn't about the money, or the satisfaction of a job well done. It was a task that needed to be done, and somebody had to have the unfortunate task of doing it. Yet...it was becoming increasingly harder for Ezra to justify such a mindset. It was so...immoral to the wandering vagrant.
Turning his gaze from the wailing thug back towards Kris, he watched the red head lavish with excitement in his kills. Akin to lavishing the thrill of the hunt. It was...much like what Ezra saw in his sister back when they worked together. Fire and Ice. Sun and Moon. Night and Day. They couldn't be any more apart. Whether or not Ezra agreed with Kris' pleasure mattered not. This Tim fellow knew exactly who he was hiring ahead of time. He did his research, and that...was slightly unnerving.
"You have to be right. These were likely their recons. No way they would have been that easy to push over." Ezra responded in a gravely voice to the mercenary while ruffling his hair. Four? Why did that seem...off? The red head was right. Their lay three dead and one incapable of pursuing them, but there felt like...a number off.
Caught up in the mayhem, Ezra didn't really have the time or patience to consider why this felt wrong. Tim was potentially in danger and waiting for them, and as Kris said, these thugs were no longer the only ones they had to now risk the danger of encountering. Enforcers would likely throw them into the slammer just as quickly as the thugs who attacked them if they saw the corpses before them. With an assertive nod towards the grinning mercenary, Ezra leveled Mirage out and let the vel controlled sand funnel it's way into the eye of the blade once more.
"Right. Let's get while the getting is good. I told Tim to meet us at the transport and get things ready. Unless he was ambushed, we should be good to go as soon as we arrive.
With the scene clear, the two slipped and rushed as quietly and inconspicuously that their legs could carry them towards the entrance to Haven once more. Which meant...
"These god forsaken stairs-" Ezra grumbled with frustration as he rapidly descended the steps with care to not topple over to his very likely demise. "I am not coming back to this damnable place any time soon!" As he stormed down the steps, Ezra's eyes widened as he passed a familiar, slightly humble looking gentleman attempting to make his own pace down the stairs.
"Tim!?" Ezra blurted out and turned around while snatching the cargo back out of his hold, a greatly confused look upon his tired eyes. "No time to explain. We got to speed up the pace, like...right now. Probably a few minutes ago. Let's move."
Not looking to protest, Ezra didn't wait for a proper response from the man and he bolted ahead once more. "D-Do be extra careful my boy! That is extremely valuable and fragile!" The older gentleman called out with slight fear as he trailed behind with new found vigor.
Arriving at the wagon, Tim waved down the chatting wagon rider from before with haste. "We gotta get moving! Get things packed and let's go!" The old man called out in exhaustion to the bundled up woman, who jumped to her feet in alert. Ezra slid the crate into the back of the wagon and jumped in with it before turning to help the other two in.
Kris cracked a wide smile toward Ezra in regards to his assessment. They were both in agreement that this was merely a small recon scouting team to gauge the strength of their defenses. It was a guarantee that more were already on their way as they spoke, which did not bode well for the Vagrant and the Mercenary. Luckily the scouting party was a bunch of pushovers, so Kris wasn't beginning to sweat quite yet.
"After you, Ezra. I'll be hot on your trail!"
As they moved, Kris regarded the weapon in his companion's grasp. It was fairly large and judging from the way it was handled, it was fairly obvious that it was a Vanta Weapon similar to Kris...which also coincided with the massive sand storm that was conjured up. So an Eme as well, eh? Tim really knew how to pick his allies...it made Kris wonder if he was just as poor at finding his enemies?
He snickered at the comment of the stairs, even though he also was letting out a drawn out sigh of exasperation. Who in the hell designed this city? Only a maniac would ever go up and down these stairs more than once a day! Luckily it was a downhill sprint, though that also came with the danger of momentum and gravity overtaking their speed and sending them careening in a mess down the steps.
Ezra called out Tim's name just as he passed by the hobbling old man and snatched the crate from his grasp. They needed to really speed things up and Ezra had the right idea as he was dashing at full speed to the wagon. Kris caught up to Tim and gave him a piggyback ride, rushing down the rest of the stairs and helping him up to the driver's seat. With Ezra helping to load the wagon, Kris rushed to meet up with him and stuff the cargo hold with their supplies. With both men, the task was over before they knew it and Tim was already ushering the horses onward!
It was bumpy and rough in the back with Kris hanging on for dear life, but the steeds were sure footed enough that they were already vacating the city. Though cheers would soon be cut off as several coaches and single rider horses were already coming out from the forest near Haven to ambush them from all sides. Kris grit his teeth and rushed to the front of the wagon, yelling toward Tim.
"Old man! Take us into the forest! We can lose them in there!"
"Aren't there monsters in the forest!?"
Kris grinned wickedly and Tim only had to see the look to understand his point. Into the forest the trio went with their raiding party following close behind.
