In the Name of Our Lord, Be Delivered [Closed]

[Oracle]

Evening of Twelve Melora, in the Season of Winter, Era I of the Celestine Mandate, Era XV Post Fractum
OOC Note: Until GM fixes it so the title correctly reflects this, this note serves to remind you this thread is now closed.

The man who walked down the street in the fading evening light was a man, as all men are. He had his hopes, dreams, and desires; he had parents, siblings, a girl he loved and hoped to marry. He had tripped in the schoolyard as a lad and cut his shin, earning himself a little scar, as boys will. He rose early and went to bed late after his duties were done. And there was where the resemblance ended.

He wore the simple clothes of a commoner, suited to the weather - bulky, with a cloak and a hat pulled low to cover his ears to keep them warm. Underneath the cloak was a longsword. While it looked ornamental, it had a purpose, though the man hoped not to have to use it this night. After all, it was a holy blade, dedicated, and if he had to dirty it he would have to go through the entire process of cleansing it before his superiors. That was always a tedious business and a waste of his time, which could be put to much better use.

His left hand rested lightly on the pommel stone of the longsword, covered with a leather glove. Perhaps a bit unusual was the fact that he wore a slender band on his ring finger, above the glove, that had a vague bluish cast to it. The other hand held close to his side, protectively covering the leather portfolio that was thrust under his belt. It was tied with a blue ribbon and sealed with a wax insignia of a sword with an overlapping triangle.

Filled with purpose, he swung along the street, his gaze casually sweeping the street for any intruders. But he did not, of course, look behind him. The scuffle that ensued was abbreviated, and conducted with surprisingly little noise as the two men wrestled with each other for control of the document the mysterious cloaked man wore. At one point in the battle, the man's hat was knocked to the cobblestones, and he let out a howl of rage, swinging his cloak free to draw his sword and enter true battle.

"Traitorous infidel, taste steel!"

[Luit]

It was yet another lonely evening for Luit, trying to remain attentive while walking the empty streets. While stationed in Diana Luit was always technically on duty; but on such a nice evening inside the city gates, how could he suspect anything? "Well I suppose the lack of activity is a good sign; we must be doing something right," Luit pondered as he walked towards the Vigiles compounds. Though a real soldier of the sacred three now, his lifelong dream, he had further ambitions. Luit, being bold and perhaps a little naive, saught battle. He sought to fight and kill for his faith; above all he sought a chance to prove his devotion and ability. Perhaps here he would have his chance.

Luit had no reason to believe that the man he pased in the street would be the source of vindication for him, however. Dressed in rather plain garb, wearing a common hat securely on his head, the man seemed to be just another traveler or pilgrim passing through the city. What caught his attention were the sounds of a scuffle; not the cacophonous sounds of blows and strikes but rather the muffled sounds of two men grappling at close quarters. Though training taught him to un-sheath his longsword, Luit thought to himself, "No. Surely I won't need that here." As he turned, he saw the two men. They were locked in an embrace of sorts, but one of violence and anger not of love. Luit saw some sort of leather folder or portfolio briefly under the strangers cloak, and the assailants hands on it. Just as Luit was about to command the attacker to stop, he heard:

"Traitorous infidel, taste steel!"

Now Luit had no question that he should intervene here. Just hearing the man's tone and his choice of words, Luit naturally trusted the man who was being assualted. His reasoning was based on the pre-conception that people of good faith don't go lurking in the shadows attacking others. Luit drew his longsword and stepped forward, making sure to end up a few paces to the side of the two men. As he arrived and got a better look at the two men, he saw a ring that radiated a tiny bluish light on the strangers finger. Knowing blue to be the color of purity and of the Vigiles, Luit's previous assumptions were confirmed in his mind.

"Halt! Withdraw and surrender in the name of the Vigiles!" Luit bellowed at the assailant, before raising his longsword to a ready position.

[Fidelis Meridius]

Songstamp The Day That Never Comes ~ Metallica

With barely an audible sound, boots caressed the cobbled streets of the holy city as a lone figure traversed its streets silently. From torch light to shadows, the dark-clad figure moved quietly through the darkening. An onyx cloak draped over his form as he moved; nearly everything else about the man's appearance was hidden by the simple garb.

But there was much more to the man out on a mid-darkening stroll. The man was the Wolf of Jorel, and his arrival to Diana could only spell doom to those who fell in his path. As he walked in solitude, leaving Havina at the inn for the time being, he carried himself with a dangerous demeanor. No one of their right mind would dream of approaching a cloaked man with such a gait. This was his one form of peace.

As he strolled on, his mind meditated on his brightenings past, his difficulties at hand, and other various thoughts. None of which were overly stressing or important. The darkening was more of a night off from his relentless campaign.

Stopping in the streets, it was even more evident that there was more than met the eye to this figure. Fidelis was a warrior, born of fire and destruction. His blades had tasted blood all across the land, and through battle tested experience he had become unrivaled by all; he was a Grandmaster... the pinnacle of excellence.

As a phenom with a sword, the Jorelite's senses evolved to level beyond comprehension. It was like a sixth sense; as if his weapons spoke to him, giving him a vivid description of every minuscule detail about him. It was with such awareness he could feel the struggle just ahead. He could see the sense unfold clearly in his mind as his eyesight was impeded by the narrow alleyway he traversed.

"...Interesting." The Dark Knight brooded over the altercation ahead of him. Stepping lithely ahead, Fidelis moved stealthily to the mouth of the alley. Peering around the corner, the warrior's emerald eyes confirmed what he already knew as they fell upon the scene before him.

But instead of acting, the warrior observed. It was amusing that way. He could easily intervene at anytime he desired, and neither would know what ever happened as they passed into the afterlife... but for now, he watched and waited. He would see what would come of the fight before him for now.

[Oracle]

The pair did not notice the two sets of eyes watching them, as they were too engrossed in their momentary drama. However, at the sound of Luit's bellow, both men hesitated for a second, two heads turning to check to see who spoke. Almost immediately, they dismissed him as inconsequential to their current difficulties and went right back to what they were doing. The man in the cloak had indeed drawn a somewhat ornate-looking sword, and was tracking his opponent with the point of it.

"Hold still, you rat, and let me --"

Fidelius would have felt it first before either of them saw it: the little snick of steel as the dagger slipped into the dark-haired man's hand as he lunged under the cloaked man's arm. A neat slice, and it was over -- for now. The cloaked man staggered back with a cry, clutching his hand... not to his side, but his belt, which had been neatly sliced in two. His opponent punched him solidly in the face - and they could both hear the crunch as metal hit cartilage and bone. Simultaneously the other hand was reaching past the cloak...

The cloaked man hit the cobblestones, minus a folio, his belt, and ultimately his hat, which rolled off a few paces down the street before stopping at the mouth of the alley. He groaned, his ringed hand flying to his broken nose, which was bleeding profusely, obscuring his vision. His assailant looked neither at his victim nor at Luit, and instead ran down the street as quickly as the weather would allow, his hands already securing the folio.

[Luit]

"That wasn't I had hoped for. Not at all." Though not a man of great power or renown, Luit certainly wasn't used to being openly defied in Diana. Let alone that the city was a religious stronghold and seldom attracted true criminal types, the assailant had completely ignored his order to stop and his drawn longsword. As Luit processed what had just transpired, he vaguely saw the men return to their struggle after pausing for just a second.

"Hold still, you rat, and let me --"

Luit heard the cloaked man start to mutter these words to the assailant; but then he abruptly stopped. Before Luit could gather what happened, he saw the cloaked man withdraw and let out a yell, clutching his belt area. "Perhaps he had been punched or stabbed in the stomach?" Luit thought as he tried to discern what was going on. The attacking man then punched the defendant squarely in the jaw; and it sounded like quite an impact. Before Luit could even think of how he could help the man, however, he had something else entirely on his mind.

"The folder!" Luit realized as his body started moving before his mind had finished his thoughts. Now that the cloaked man was down, the assailant moved swiftly after the folder and left the cloaked man lying in the streets. Luit still had his longsword drawn, and was determined to catch the assailant. The only thing Luit saw was the assailant, and he chased down the alley after him. Luit was ready to pursue the man, as he had often patrolled these streets and alleys and knew them like the back of his hand. Making a mental note of where the fallen cloaked man lay, Luit took off down the alley and tried to get to the folder before the assailant could. If he didn't, he would either try a brief slash with his longsword if he was in range, or quickly sheath his longsword and continue on foot after the man. Hoping to either gather the attention of fellow Vigiles that may be patrolling the area, or to tell the man to stop if he was extremely hard of hearing, Luit bellowed again,

"In the name of the Vigiles I command you to halt!"

[Fidelis Meridius]

Well hidden within the confines of a dark corner, the Jorelite watched the spectacle with mild amusement. From the moment blades had been drawn, the swordsman had at least some idea of what was going on. It was evident that he was witness to a robbery, but it would seem of a special kind... or at least there was more to it than met the human's emerald eyes.

"Interesting indeed..." Fidelis repeated to himself. He was actually looking forward to being the spectator of such a bout for a change, but similar to his own battles, it had ended before it ever really began.

But what was so important that the man sacrificed his life in vain for?

That was the question that piqued the curiosity of the Wolf of Jorel as he continued to watch, unlike the newcomer. Whom like any would be hero, presented himself to the thief as if the man had any real values. Thieves valued possession, not honor... The man would not simply submit, because he was told too.

Pulling a pair of gloves from his pocket, the dark knight slipped them over his hands, and adjusted his fingers casually as if nothing was happening further down the road. There was no sense of urgency to act on Fidelis' part. From the sands of arenas to the mud of a battlefield, the Champion of Jorel was a master of war; a jack of all lethal trades. He had been an assassin, a mercenary, a soldier, even a cold-blooded murderer. Tracking someone through the shadows of a cities' streets was nothing knew to him. They would not lose the bladed-phenom.

As the chase ensued, Fidelis too, pursued the man of question. But his pace was far more silent and methodical; the grandmaster would remain the spectator for now. Stalking the shadows like a predator sniffing out its prey, the man moved over the streets like fluid; one hand guided his way past objects and corners as the other stayed near the belt that supported the twin gladii about the warrior's waist. Should he feel inclined, he would end the darkenings drama with a simple flick of the wrist.

[Oracle]

Luit sure did attract a lot of attention with that ear-shattering bellow of his. It was a wonder he had air enough in his lungs to keep up the pursuit, but he did. Several heads turned, doors opening as people poked their heads out to wonder at the strange sort of foot chase.

The assailant was young and fleet of foot, keeping just out of reach of Luit's righteous grasp. At one point the young man almost had his hand on the man's shirt, but a hard left turn left Luit scrambling for foot purchase on the cobblestones. A missed step toppled him into a water trough in front of a business as his quarry literallly dove into an alley. Thankfully, he heard an acknowledging shout behind him as another patrolman began to hurry their way to take up the chase.

In the silent alleyways and seamier underside of the city, Fidelis slid through the shadows, stalking his prey as a cat does to a mouse escaped from its master's pantry. His fingers were tingling as the information flowed through him, shadows whispering in the back of his mind as thoughts formed and flowed free without restraint. And at last he had his prey. The man had stopped in front of a building, and was beating a rapid tattoo on the door.

"Open up, dammit, I got the Vigiles on my tail." He was breathless, panting, his cowl knocked askew to show a scarred cheek and a mutilated ear. Again he banged his fist on the door, the leather folio clenched in his other fist. In a moment he would be through, and gone...

[Luit]

It was quite surprising that the water didn't start to steam as it started to drip off Luit's skin and clothes. He was furious with himself, frustration turning to anger and then briefly to self-loathing. "I had the slippery bastard! Curse his vile soul." Luit stood up and tried to regain his composure. Allowing time for a few, sorely needed, deep breaths Luit started to mentally re-play what had happened.

Just as he had turned the corner, Luit remembered seeing that the strange criminal was almost within reach. Just as he thought of lunging out and grabbing him, the shadowy figure moved into an alleyway. Luit then only remembered struggling to stay on his two feet and tumbling into a water trough. "Patience is a virtue," Luit whispered almost mocking his own stupidity.

Standing up, Luit could only thank the Sacred Three that another guardsmen had taken up the chase of the villain. Starting to think rationally once more, Luit decided that he should try to locate the guardsmen going by the sounds of his footsteps and the side-effect of any such event in the city: storekeepers and citizens standing on porches and in doorways looking down the street in the direction where the action had gone.

Luit took off again, this time at more of a controlled pace and followed the trail of the action. Thinking to himself, Luit was suddenly determined to catch the criminal. Assaulting another man, theft, and disobeying the guard; in a city of holy temples and peace no less? Luit clenched his fists and focused all his energies preparing for anything that was to come, including having to use his sword to bring the perpetrator down. Luit's determination led him to thoughts of his fellow brothers in arms, and he knew he could use their help on this night. "Let Aslan be with them," he thought as he stopped for a brief moment.

Finding the first decent looking citizen he could find, Luit stopped them in their tracks. Looking them squarely in the eye, he said, "Citizen I am Luit of the Vigiles. I command you in the name of the law to go to the Vigiles headquarters and find the first officer you see. Tell them that I am pursuing a criminal guilty of assault, theft, and defying the law. Lead them back here, and request that they pass the information on the captain. Now go!" With that Luit pointed in the direction of the headquarters and resumed the chase himself. Luit could only hope his order would work, for he was still new to the role of holy lawmen. Hopefully there were at least some Aslan-fearing citizens left out there.

[Fidelis Meridius]

Moving quietly, the hidden warrior followed the chase, as if only spectating the struggle as Fidelis fed his curiosity. He would know of the contents of the item so fought for one way or another. Perhaps such ways should have been beyond the cold calculating Wolf he had been trained to become, but he could very well have a vital piece of intelligence in his battle against the CoF. It was the holy city, and anything that fought for had to have been of some worth.

As the swordsman continually stalked the member of the Vigiles and thief neared the end of the chase. A small sense of satisfaction filled the warrior as his new found abilities had located the destination of the item in question... If not, he at least knew it would be in the building for a short amount of time.

But this building was no Temple of Aslan, and he would not be using the front door as per the usual routine... Which was rather direct. No, instead he would move to the building, and find a quieter alternate means of entry. Ducking through shadows, the dark knight dodged through alleyways until he made his way to the structure the man had managed to get into.

Once there, the hand about his waist produced one of the ardentium gladii from its sheath, and tucked it away from light, underneath his cloak. Once armed, he would slide in the back and see just what he was in store for... And should all means of entry be locked, then perhaps, the grandmaster would have to dabble a bit in his necromancy.

[Oracle]

OOC: Sorry about the delay: Life got to me.

Luit:

The young grocer's boy blinked, startled, as he was accosted by a soaking-wet man that looked fit to kill and smelled vaguely of horse-trough. The boy shifted from foot to foot anxiously, flicking glances at his father's door as if for support.

"Er, er... um, yes, sir." The pale-faced lad nearly saluted as Luit imperiously ordered him off, and he promptly ran off toward the Vigiles' headquarters as fast as his feet would carry him. It was rather amusing actually - not that Luit would see the humor in it right this very moment. Maybe later, when he was sitting by the fire drying off and mulling over some ale, it would be funny. Now? Now... he was lost.

Most of the commotion had begun to fade down, and he had some difficulty picking up the trail of his companion, but a few kind people (standing well back of him) helpfully pointed him down the right streets. He arrived in front of a baker's shop where he found his companion puffing and scowling blackly. "Lost the little bugger, but he's right round here somewhere, I swear it." There was a narrow alley to the side, with a few barrels lining it, but here, no one was standing outside to watch the chase. The street was eerily empty.

Fidelis:

The building he found himself studying seemed to be an adjunct to a bakery, the smells of baked goods drifting in the lazy evening air. There were a few barrels and crates, labeled Flour and such, but they seemed to be empty. There was only the one door at the base, and a quiet inspection proved that it was indeed locked. And guarded, apparently, because there was a person on the other side. However, there -were- windows, up on the second story. Three of them - two curtained or shuttered, but one seemed bare, in the rear part of the building.

It was open a bit, apparently for ventilation. And he could hear snatches of conversation in some strange language he couldn't identify. The voices were pitched low - two men, discussing something urgent from the sounds of it. Then there was the report of a door hitting a wall - being thrown open - and then excited chattering. The thief had arrived. The voices moved off deeper into the building, leaving Fidelis alone to contemplate his options.

[Luit]

"How odd, good Dianians are apperently scared of their own Vigiles?" Luit spoke to himself as he followed the odd direction or nod that he hoped would keep him close to the chase. For some reason, whenever he stepped towards a shopkeeper or pedastrain they made sure to keep their distance from him. Now he was sure that he was an impressive sight with his longsword close by his side wearing the official garb of the Vigiles, but Dianians should be accustomed to that sight. No matter, he couldn't be bothered with such trivial matters now. He only hoped that the boy he had sent off to the Vigile headquarters would do so in a timely fashion, for he too had seemed somewhat tentative. It certainly was an interesting day for the young warrior.

As Luit jogged up and found his companion bent over, his body bent over and heaving up and down violently, trying to inhale as much air as it could, he heard the man blurt out,

"Lost the little bugger, but he's right round here somewhere, I swear it."

Luit nodded as both as a sign of acknowledging he understood what had happened, and as a sign of understanding that though the man had failed, they both knew he had done all he could. After all, that was what followers of the Sacred Three were called to do. Looking around for some indication as to where the individuals who Luit and his fellow Vigile were pursuing, he spied a rather small alleyway off to the side of the street.

Calling out to his comrade to follow him, Luit crept down the alley slowly. With barrels resting on either side against the walls, Luit was uneasy walking down such an easily encloseable or ambush-laden street. Nevertheless, he knew he had to put aside his fear and fulfill his duty. Biting down hard he withdrew his longsword, waved his companion on, and swallowing hard took off down the alley, walking on the balls of his feet maintaining his sword at a ready position, in search of the mysterious assailant.

[Fidelis Meridius]

oocSorry, classes have kept me busy :(, this will be short

Disappointed by his first inspection of the building, he continued through the alley to see what he could find. He very well could cut his way through the front door, but where was the fun in that? This was a night off, was it not?

Listening to the incomprehensible muttering from the open window, the Jorelite had determined it would take an act of inhuman abilities... lucky for grandmaster, he had evolved to such a physical form, that he was capable of such things.

Placing the ardentium blade back in its scabbard, Fidelis glanced about, from the shadows, looking for enough room to move. ()Taking a bit of liberty in the alley description, please PM if my actions constitute a bunny. :( With a short sprint down the alley, the Dark Knight had gained the velocity he would need. In a parkour-like leap, he ran up the wall with a few steps, before propelling himself towards the opposite side of the alley, and into the other building, before cat-leaping back to grab the ledge of the window. Where it would would take a good portion of his physical strength to hoist himself up quickly, and without too much a scene.

Assuming that the Jorelite didn't make a huge miscalculation, nor did he end up crippled in the alleyway, he would be inside the presumed safe-house, ready to see just exactly what all the fuss was about.