The trio hurried back to the guard barracks and alerted the guards. Together with Commander Tana, they marched up to the room where Priestess Tak was staying.
After three knocks, there was no—
“Who is it?” … so she was fine.
“Knight Jyn and company,” Jyn replied. Tak opened the door, vulnerable in her sleepwear. Her eyes shot wide open when she saw the small complement of town guards lined up behind Jyn.
Seeing that the Priestess was fine, Tana scattered the guards and tightened patrols around the area. She had had no strange reports beforehand, nor would she throughout the night.
Jyn and Kalender told her about the chicken scratch that Page and Kalender found, which turned out to be some sort of secret code. He confirmed that it wasn’t the Cant of Pastries—which would have been strange, else why would a bunch of shady bakers want to kidnap a Priestess?
It was already well past sundown, and torches were being lit. Still, there were no intruders to be seen, nor suspicious persons lurking about.
To be sure about things, Kalender and company decided to stay the night in the barracks.
Ah! An overnight anti-kidnapping operation! Page had a little trepidation about it, but the variety of things she’d been experiencing over the past few days was just juicy. [+5 Excitement]
Fortunately, the guest room beside Tak’s was free. Of course, there was only one bed.
“W-with Kal?!” Page squirmed. She’d been getting on good terms with the guy, yes, but this was a whole different matter entirely.
“I will be taking first watch,” Jyn said, “and then Kalender, and then Page.”
Two people could fit perfectly on the bed, even if said people tended to twist and turn throughout the night.
Kalender spread an extra bed sheet. They weren’t going to be changing, and all the dirt and sweat they’d accumulated throughout the day still clung to them, so they might as well do the quartermaster a favor by not desecrating a perfectly clean bed.
He laid down, all the tension leaving his body through a long, long sigh. He hugged his sword, still in its scabbard—Jyn had always told him to do this when it wasn’t safe so he’d be ready for any surprises. Still, he’d rather be hugging someone instead of something, though.
Page laid her quarterstaff in the middle of the bed, and she nervously sat at its edge, bringing her feet up and, finally, laying her back to rest. She turned her head to the side, and seeing Kal so close to her, she quickly turned away.
… Yet she slowly looked again. He’s already asleep! That was fast! His forehead was up against the flat of the scabbard he was hugging, and he was curled up, quietly snoozing just like that.
I should get some sleep, too… She closed her eyes, still so much conscious of the weight that was beside her, and the scent that was coming off of him. It felt strange to be this close to him—constricting, as if she shouldn’t move lest a cat be woken up from her lap.
Not soon after, she dozed off.
***
The supposed kidnapping of Priestess Tak never materialized. Could the message have been referring to a different Priestess? Could it have simply been an old message?
No. That specific signpost was new, and had only been there for three days. It was clear that Tak was the target.
The key laid in the missing characters.
“Aha? What’s this?” Sherry bent down to have a gander at the chicken scratch on the signpost. This was not long after she’d packed up her picnic set and disappeared from the slimy scene. “They’re also here?”
The chicken scratch was familiar to her. She knew about the Cant of Pastries, and this wasn’t it. She couldn’t read this one, though, no—but one didn’t need the codemaker’s cipher in order to ascertain their intentions.
The Priestess to Minimine, she thought. This town had nothing going for it, so the presence of a Priestess stuck out like a sore thumb.
Well, there was that, and Sherry’s propensity to bump into kidnappings every so often. She’d rescued just two Priestesses in the past three months, but even with just those two data points, she’d already noticed a recurring modus operandus—the use of dead drops and coded messages hidden in plain sight. It could mean many things—that there was one group behind both of them, or that there was a sponsor who provided the same type of training to several groups.
Still, the indirectness of a sponsor did not detract from the fact that there could only be one motivating intention behind it all. What that intention was, she didn’t know, but Priestess Tak, she knew, was somehow vital to Kalender and co.
She didn’t have any details about it, just a vague feeling. The Inquisition tended not to tell their agents more than necessary, after all. Still, she did the bare minimum to keep herself informed of local events. The local townsfolk had spoken about a cart with a black cloth draped over it. Everyone believed it was an Unalive, and so it was little wonder that a Priestess showed up to conduct a purification ritual.
However, the Priestess should’ve left, and yet, she was still here. The only other aberrances in town were Kalender and Page, who were in the same group. There was no way they and the Priestess weren’t involved if Tak was still waiting.
Sherry’s next course of action was clear. As a Maid, it was her duty to tidy up the place—discreetly, as if she wasn’t there at all.
After a grocery run that took her around the guard barracks where she guessed the Priestess was staying, she noticed many more chicken scratches, but with no sign of suspicious persons. She decided to do some waiting and walking around, patrolling in case she ever encountered someone trying to read the chicken scratches—or better yet, making the scratches themselves.
It was nearly sunset when her perseverance paid off. A man, dressed as any common laborer, casually leaned against a wall where one of the chicken scratches were. The street was still busy with people going home, and one would think this man was just waiting for someone.
What piqued Sherry’s interest, however, was how he didn’t cross his arms in front of his chest. Instead, he put his hands behind his back. His hands would have been right on top of the chicken scratches.
They read it with their fingers? Interesting. It was a truly discreet method, and one very difficult to pull off. She decided to follow the man as soon as he pushed himself off the wall.
Where else would he go, if not a dark alley?
She let the man turn a corner first before she followed close behind. Her shoes made no sound. Her hearing picked up on every little rat and cockroach scurrying about—as well as the breathing of the two sentries just around the corner.
They were breathing as if in bated breath. They’re waiting. Had she already been detected? If any of them had alley-related skills, that could be the case.
In such a case, she had no choice but to break through.
As soon as she turned the corner, she ducked, avoiding the grasp of the man-catcher that was supposed to be jabbed against her neck. From down low, she propelled herself up to deliver a two-knuckle strike into the darkness.
Someone gurgled and collapsed. Specialists of the dark the enemy may be, a proper Maid should be able to locate the heart of a scurrying rat behind a wall with a precision of five millimeters. They wouldn’t be able to take care of rodent problems, otherwise.
A second attack came for Sherry’s feet. Shadows coiled around her ankle, anchoring her to the earth.
The glint of a blade came slashing down diagonally towards her. She did little more than grab the blade, stopping it completely, and say {Break}. It shattered like glass.
She grabbed a fragment of the sword and flicked it. “{Faster}.”
The second sentry was dead before he even hit the ground.
“What a waste of men,” she muttered. Not even in the last two times she’d fought them that she’d encountered a woman among their ranks.
The dark swallowed the sentries, their bodies and blood becoming dust before sinking into nothing—as befitting of those who lived their lives as shadows with the Blessing of the Shadow Goddess.
Sherry particularly liked dispatching them. They didn’t leave stains on her uniform.
For now, however, whatever nest the rest of the conspirators had nearby was sure to be on-alert. At worst, they could be panicking, packing up, and scattering away by now. She had to pick up the pace.
She ran, as quiet as a breeze. She started hearing panicked voices from three turns away, encountering no resistance as she followed the noise. Did they only have two sentries? It might not be a big operation, after all.
Still, she smelled blood. Although their bodies and fluids left no trace, the smell lingered on, and their weapons would be left on the ground. Someone had been through here.
She was just two turns away when the panicking turned into sounds of—no, it couldn’t be called fighting. They were just dropping like flies.
When she was just one turn away, she peeked from around the corner. She heard nothing. The last thing she heard was a dagger clanging onto the ground.
Ah, but she heard something. It was all around her.
She stepped out into the open and walked on towards the supposed hideout. A door had been left open, a sight that had her imagining a drunk stumbling out of it at any moment. Rather than that, the sound of the alley around her was … following her.
Ah. This annoyed huffing…
“I had heard about certain talents like yours,” she said to the air. “Impressive. I hope mother appreciates your work.”
It was when she was 10 meters from the door when an outline materialized in front of it.
“What is your assignment?” the shadow asked. She didn’t like others simply walking into her territory.
“My ward would be rather inconvenienced by these folk were they to cause an upheaval,” Sherry replied. “Of course, had I known that we were in the care of such a dashing persona—ah, sorry,” she chuckled, “I must respect professional boundaries. If you are here … then I shall return to my groceries.”
She bowed as a Maid, and walked forwards, past the shadow, as a Maid. As she passed the shadow, however, “Don’t be afraid to ask for help,” she said as a sister. She soon left the alley as a Maid.
***
Well into the night, the same shadow who muttered “I finally make the shadows my domain and you’re still butting in…” proceeded to clean up four safehouses’ worth of kidnappers.
KeeperAbra (2022-11-03)
This'll be the last of the daily releases :( Expect the next in 2–3 days :)
The trio hurried back to the guard barracks and alerted the guards. Together with Commander Tana, they marched up to the room where Priestess Tak was staying.
After three knocks, there was no—
“Who is it?” … so she was fine.
“Knight Jyn and company,” Jyn replied. Tak opened the door, vulnerable in her sleepwear. Her eyes shot wide open when she saw the small complement of town guards lined up behind Jyn.
Seeing that the Priestess was fine, Tana scattered the guards and tightened patrols around the area. She had had no strange reports beforehand, nor would she throughout the night.
Jyn and Kalender told her about the chicken scratch that Page and Kalender found, which turned out to be some sort of secret code. He confirmed that it wasn’t the Cant of Pastries—which would have been strange, else why would a bunch of shady bakers want to kidnap a Priestess?
It was already well past sundown, and torches were being lit. Still, there were no intruders to be seen, nor suspicious persons lurking about.
To be sure about things, Kalender and company decided to stay the night in the barracks.
Ah! An overnight anti-kidnapping operation! Page had a little trepidation about it, but the variety of things she’d been experiencing over the past few days was just juicy. [+5 Excitement]
Fortunately, the guest room beside Tak’s was free. Of course, there was only one bed.
“W-with Kal?!” Page squirmed. She’d been getting on good terms with the guy, yes, but this was a whole different matter entirely.
“I will be taking first watch,” Jyn said, “and then Kalender, and then Page.”
Two people could fit perfectly on the bed, even if said people tended to twist and turn throughout the night.
Kalender spread an extra bed sheet. They weren’t going to be changing, and all the dirt and sweat they’d accumulated throughout the day still clung to them, so they might as well do the quartermaster a favor by not desecrating a perfectly clean bed.
He laid down, all the tension leaving his body through a long, long sigh. He hugged his sword, still in its scabbard—Jyn had always told him to do this when it wasn’t safe so he’d be ready for any surprises. Still, he’d rather be hugging someone instead of something, though.
Page laid her quarterstaff in the middle of the bed, and she nervously sat at its edge, bringing her feet up and, finally, laying her back to rest. She turned her head to the side, and seeing Kal so close to her, she quickly turned away.
… Yet she slowly looked again. He’s already asleep! That was fast! His forehead was up against the flat of the scabbard he was hugging, and he was curled up, quietly snoozing just like that.
I should get some sleep, too… She closed her eyes, still so much conscious of the weight that was beside her, and the scent that was coming off of him. It felt strange to be this close to him—constricting, as if she shouldn’t move lest a cat be woken up from her lap.
Not soon after, she dozed off.
***
The supposed kidnapping of Priestess Tak never materialized. Could the message have been referring to a different Priestess? Could it have simply been an old message?
No. That specific signpost was new, and had only been there for three days. It was clear that Tak was the target.
The key laid in the missing characters.
“Aha? What’s this?” Sherry bent down to have a gander at the chicken scratch on the signpost. This was not long after she’d packed up her picnic set and disappeared from the slimy scene. “They’re also here?”
The chicken scratch was familiar to her. She knew about the Cant of Pastries, and this wasn’t it. She couldn’t read this one, though, no—but one didn’t need the codemaker’s cipher in order to ascertain their intentions.
The Priestess to Minimine, she thought. This town had nothing going for it, so the presence of a Priestess stuck out like a sore thumb.
Well, there was that, and Sherry’s propensity to bump into kidnappings every so often. She’d rescued just two Priestesses in the past three months, but even with just those two data points, she’d already noticed a recurring modus operandus—the use of dead drops and coded messages hidden in plain sight. It could mean many things—that there was one group behind both of them, or that there was a sponsor who provided the same type of training to several groups.
Still, the indirectness of a sponsor did not detract from the fact that there could only be one motivating intention behind it all. What that intention was, she didn’t know, but Priestess Tak, she knew, was somehow vital to Kalender and co.
She didn’t have any details about it, just a vague feeling. The Inquisition tended not to tell their agents more than necessary, after all. Still, she did the bare minimum to keep herself informed of local events. The local townsfolk had spoken about a cart with a black cloth draped over it. Everyone believed it was an Unalive, and so it was little wonder that a Priestess showed up to conduct a purification ritual.
However, the Priestess should’ve left, and yet, she was still here. The only other aberrances in town were Kalender and Page, who were in the same group. There was no way they and the Priestess weren’t involved if Tak was still waiting.
Sherry’s next course of action was clear. As a Maid, it was her duty to tidy up the place—discreetly, as if she wasn’t there at all.
After a grocery run that took her around the guard barracks where she guessed the Priestess was staying, she noticed many more chicken scratches, but with no sign of suspicious persons. She decided to do some waiting and walking around, patrolling in case she ever encountered someone trying to read the chicken scratches—or better yet, making the scratches themselves.
It was nearly sunset when her perseverance paid off. A man, dressed as any common laborer, casually leaned against a wall where one of the chicken scratches were. The street was still busy with people going home, and one would think this man was just waiting for someone.
What piqued Sherry’s interest, however, was how he didn’t cross his arms in front of his chest. Instead, he put his hands behind his back. His hands would have been right on top of the chicken scratches.
They read it with their fingers? Interesting. It was a truly discreet method, and one very difficult to pull off. She decided to follow the man as soon as he pushed himself off the wall.
Where else would he go, if not a dark alley?
She let the man turn a corner first before she followed close behind. Her shoes made no sound. Her hearing picked up on every little rat and cockroach scurrying about—as well as the breathing of the two sentries just around the corner.
They were breathing as if in bated breath. They’re waiting. Had she already been detected? If any of them had alley-related skills, that could be the case.
In such a case, she had no choice but to break through.
As soon as she turned the corner, she ducked, avoiding the grasp of the man-catcher that was supposed to be jabbed against her neck. From down low, she propelled herself up to deliver a two-knuckle strike into the darkness.
Someone gurgled and collapsed. Specialists of the dark the enemy may be, a proper Maid should be able to locate the heart of a scurrying rat behind a wall with a precision of five millimeters. They wouldn’t be able to take care of rodent problems, otherwise.
A second attack came for Sherry’s feet. Shadows coiled around her ankle, anchoring her to the earth.
The glint of a blade came slashing down diagonally towards her. She did little more than grab the blade, stopping it completely, and say {Break}. It shattered like glass.
She grabbed a fragment of the sword and flicked it. “{Faster}.”
The second sentry was dead before he even hit the ground.
“What a waste of men,” she muttered. Not even in the last two times she’d fought them that she’d encountered a woman among their ranks.
The dark swallowed the sentries, their bodies and blood becoming dust before sinking into nothing—as befitting of those who lived their lives as shadows with the Blessing of the Shadow Goddess.
Sherry particularly liked dispatching them. They didn’t leave stains on her uniform.
For now, however, whatever nest the rest of the conspirators had nearby was sure to be on-alert. At worst, they could be panicking, packing up, and scattering away by now. She had to pick up the pace.
She ran, as quiet as a breeze. She started hearing panicked voices from three turns away, encountering no resistance as she followed the noise. Did they only have two sentries? It might not be a big operation, after all.
Still, she smelled blood. Although their bodies and fluids left no trace, the smell lingered on, and their weapons would be left on the ground. Someone had been through here.
She was just two turns away when the panicking turned into sounds of—no, it couldn’t be called fighting. They were just dropping like flies.
When she was just one turn away, she peeked from around the corner. She heard nothing. The last thing she heard was a dagger clanging onto the ground.
Ah, but she heard something. It was all around her.
She stepped out into the open and walked on towards the supposed hideout. A door had been left open, a sight that had her imagining a drunk stumbling out of it at any moment. Rather than that, the sound of the alley around her was … following her.
Ah. This annoyed huffing…
“I had heard about certain talents like yours,” she said to the air. “Impressive. I hope mother appreciates your work.”
It was when she was 10 meters from the door when an outline materialized in front of it.
“What is your assignment?” the shadow asked. She didn’t like others simply walking into her territory.
“My ward would be rather inconvenienced by these folk were they to cause an upheaval,” Sherry replied. “Of course, had I known that we were in the care of such a dashing persona—ah, sorry,” she chuckled, “I must respect professional boundaries. If you are here … then I shall return to my groceries.”
She bowed as a Maid, and walked forwards, past the shadow, as a Maid. As she passed the shadow, however, “Don’t be afraid to ask for help,” she said as a sister. She soon left the alley as a Maid.
***
Well into the night, the same shadow who muttered “I finally make the shadows my domain and you’re still butting in…” proceeded to clean up four safehouses’ worth of kidnappers.
KeeperAbra (2022-11-03)
This'll be the last of the daily releases :( Expect the next in 2–3 days :)
