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       #Post#: 26246--------------------------------------------------
       The Feather of Vengeance 
       By: GRACETHEDUCK Date: July 29, 2015, 3:01 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [CENTER][B]A Feather of Vengeance
       -
       Prologue[/B][/CENTER]
       "Yes." The Baron replied, narrowing his eyes at the page of Sir
       Jhanred, a fairly young knight who was beginning to grow popular
       amongst the royalty for being one of the three men surviving who
       overcame the [I]Blackbird[/I].
       The Baron found himself scowling at the memory of the one of the
       few times he had found his vaults missing several handfuls of
       silver, and almost destroyed a table in fury. Many people of
       power despised the thieving [I]Blackbird[/I], so when news got
       around that he had finally been put to death, albeit with many
       losses, they were all ecstatic. The Baron had been no different,
       but now after six weeks of joy and celebration, he felt like
       destroying another table. Perhaps several chairs and a wall to
       accompany it, too.
       "Well- um, [I]sir[/I]. Sir Jhanred has reported the death of two
       guards; both of which had been on watch in front of the vaults
       last night on the third shift." The page stopped and avoided any
       eye contact, proving the Baron's thoughts correct.
       "And what of the silver?" He asked cautiously, squaring his
       shoulders and preparing for the news that would likely cause
       another loss of silver to replace a table.
       The page hunched downwards and muttered a soft string of
       connected words that wasn't likely to reached the ears of
       somebody five feet away. It was worse in this situation as the
       young page was situated almost fifty feet from the raised
       platform where the Baron was sitting. Quickly realising his
       mistake, he repeated his mumbled response in a louder voice.
       "Six handfuls are missing, sir."
       The Baron cursed. Was the [I]Blackbird[/I] back?
       - - - - -
       Vanice whistled softly, whittling a stick with one of her knives
       as she waited for the town Chief to appear from his house. The
       sun had yet to rise so she didn't hate him that much for it.
       After all, normal townfolk rarely rose before dawn and left the
       house to check if there was a girl sitting outside with a bag of
       silver. The whistling stopped as a wry grin spread across her
       face. No, she supposed it would be quite unlike [I]anybody[/I]
       to be up this early.
       It was only two hours after dawn when the first of the early
       risers trickled out of their homes groggily to fill up their
       buckets with water from the sparse amount of wells scattered
       around the town or to line up to see the Chief about their
       problems.
       Vanice chuckled as Dahlia - the wife of Lacklhen who managed the
       local Tavern - looked down at her in surprise before attracting
       the attention of anybody in a hundred foot radius by pointing
       out - in a rather loud manner - the extra inches she had grown
       in the past several months.
       "My, my, Vanice! Look how tall you've gotten! You're likely to
       be taller than I am by now!" She yelled excitedly. That was a
       feat in its own. Dahlia, a young woman who was closer to being
       middle-aged now, was a fairly tall person, almost reaching 5
       feet and 8 inches. Vanice found it unlikely that it was possible
       for any other woman to reach her height, nevermind pass it. But
       she had a point, Vanice noticed after a bit. The two of them
       were tall, but Vanice was rapidly catching up.
       It was likely a matter of genes. Both her parents were rather
       tall; her father half an inch from six feet, and her mother
       around 5'8. Her brother was also tall, hovering at around 5'10
       and was still growing.
       Her heart clenched. Lammet was still growing. He didn't deserve
       to die. He didn't even live to see his dream which he had been
       working towards for so long. And now he couldn't do all those
       things he wished to do. He couldn't walk into an ordinary town
       with its grass mowed and the houses brand new and undamaged. He
       couldn't search high and low for a wife that he would cherish
       and live with in a peaceful house of his own. He couldn't,
       Vanice thought miserably, come back.
       "Van? Van, are you quite alright?" Dahlia asked with a look of
       concern plastered across her face.
       Vanice nodded slightly, wiping the moisture from her eyes with
       the back of her hand. She would continue to work towards his
       dream. She would help their little town rebuild, albeit in an
       indirect way, but their hometown would eventually return to its
       normal state, and she would be happy. For her brother. "I'm
       fine, Dahlia. Just fine."
       - - - - -
       Vanice strolled around, looking for old friends and getting up
       to date with the newest gossip. It felt normal, she thought
       wryly. And she enjoyed it thoroughly.
       The Chief had been slightly angry when was attacked with a small
       bag of silver as he finally left his house. But he had seen
       Vanice for the first time in six weeks and had given his
       condolences when he heard the news from her own mouth.
       [I]"He was a good man, that one." the Chief replied gruffly as
       Vanice finished her recount. "I'm terribly sorry to hear that.
       It must have taken a hard toll on you. I remember how you would
       always ask for him to have a sword-fight using sticks with you.
       He was more than happy to comply."
       The Chief grinned slightly at the memory whilst Vanice gave a
       weak smile. "I remember those days. I'll see you soon then, I
       must get going."
       She had left after the Chief had given a quick goodbye
       accompanied with a slight wave.[/I]
       "Van! Oh my, it really is you! You've grown so [I]tall[/I]!"
       Vanice whipped around at the female voice and was nearly tackled
       to the ground by the force that rammed into her. It had happened
       twice already, and she was quickly learning to brace herself for
       somebody to squeeze the air out of her whenever she heard
       somebody yell her name.
       "Fenica?"
       The head massed with dirty-blond hair turned up to look at
       Vanice at the sound of her name. "Where have you been? I've
       heard of you visiting occasionally, but I never saw you!"
       "Well-"
       "Didn't you think to even stop by and say hello to your
       friends?" Fenica continued, almost on the verge of wailing,
       "Fenny-"
       "Layna and Gailey are missing you too! Have you contacted them
       yet?" Layna and Gailey were close friends of Vanice's as well.
       The two of them were sisters, or specifically, twins. Both of
       them were remarkably pretty and almost as excitable as Fenica,
       though they usually kept a cool head as Vanice preferred to do.
       She almost grinned at the mention of them.
       "Well I sa-"
       "Say something!"
       Vanice rolled her eyes but didn't bother to say anything that
       wasn't necessary. "Shut up."
       Fenica scowled, but almost immediately beamed as she yelled out
       again. "Look, Layna and Gailey are coming right now!"
       "[I]Honestly-[/I]"
       "Vanice!" Two more people pulled her into a tight hug, then
       proceeded to chastise her for her lack of contact with them for
       the past few years. By the time they finished, they were pulling
       her along to their house with Fenica in tow.
       - - - - -
       "We [I]have[/I] to dress her up! She's probably worn that shirt
       for five years straight!"
       Vanice frowned down at herself. She wasn't [I]that[/I] dirty,
       was she?
       "But I want to go horse-riding with her!" Gailey replied, then
       turned to Vanice. "Whip is still there, just waiting for you to
       lead her out of her stall and saddle her."
       It was tempting. Very tempting.
       "You know how much you love Whip, and she probably wants to
       gallop and race with Snuff as well . . ."
       Fenica rolled her eyes. "She rode Whip here, it's not like she's
       gone months without horse-riding."
       Layna chimed in. "And she probably hasn't worn a dress in years!
       Come on, we can just get dressed up and go to the tavern for a
       nice drink or ten."
       
       Vanice watched them argue about where they would drag her and
       what they would make her do, for about an hour before they
       agreed that they would force her into a dress and get her drunk.
       She had absolutely no objections.
       - - - - -
       Vanice led Whip into the sheltered half-stable beside her tent.
       It was late afternoon - about half an hour before dusk and she
       had left the other three girls early in the morning.
       She had socialised with multitudes of people, most of them
       friends and acquaintances that were all glad to discuss the
       happenings of the world with her. All in all, it had been a
       rather [I]interesting[/I] night, and Vanice had left with her
       three friends only slightly tipsy.
       She took almost two hours to unsaddle, empty and refill the feed
       and water trough, as well as rub down the mare. But she
       eventually retreated into the tent after throwing a horse
       blanket of Whip and tethering the grey horse to a wiry tree.
       Her whole body felt sore after a whole day of horse-riding with
       only four or five breaks along the way. It was a pity she didn't
       have any warm water nearby that she could wash away the sweat
       and grit with. She would do something about it tomorrow, Vanice
       decided as she threw a spare cloak over her low bed and flopped
       onto it. She listened to the low buzz of the insects outside and
       the soft whispering of the wind for another hour before drifting
       off to a light sleep.
       [hr]
       Alright, this starting is more of a filler than anything, but
       I'm going to write a series of short stories and put them
       together to make some sort of mega-story! Yes, it's because I
       have no life. So enjoy, y'all! :)
       #Post#: 26247--------------------------------------------------
       Re: The Feather of Vengeance 
       By: GRACETHEDUCK Date: July 29, 2015, 3:02 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [CENTER][B]Chapter One[/B][/CENTER]
       The [I]Hummingbird[/I]; the assistant of the legendary
       [I]Blackbird[/I] who stole from the Lords all around Gaeliahr.
       And apparently, she was some sort of myth.
       "It's twice I've seen her! And I can be sure it's that . . .
       That [I]girl[/I] who's doing all of it!" the night guard
       protested.
       Again, he was dismissed. The man's pride wouldn't allow him to
       believe such a thing.
       "Of course," Lord Kharl van der Yelphakhe replied in a derisive
       manner, waving a careless hand at the obviously delirious man
       kneeling before him. "Next thing you'll tell me, she took out
       half of the force on watch as well."
       The night guard shook his head. "No-"
       "Precisely! Now get out of my sight!" Lord Kharl crowed,
       smirking victoriously at the lowly man-at-arms in front of him.
       The soldier hunched even more, but continued on in a nervous
       voice. "Well, she killed the guard force to four men then
       proceeded to enter the vaults and left before the rest or us
       could drag ourselves to the bolt and lock her in. I'm fairly
       sure three men suffered some injuries from the wall as well."
       The Lord's smirk dropped instantly, and he gestured for the
       soldier to stop talking. He then beckoned for six of the guards
       standing beside him and pointed to the cowering figure at the
       foot of the raised platform. "Bind him and give him a good
       lashing or two. And find the other three swines who were on duty
       last night, as well."
       The guards nodded and took the whimpering soldier by his arms
       before leaving the hall.
       "A [I]girl[/I]," the Lord muttered to himself. "Hah! The lad's
       eyesight must be so bad he can't tell between a girl and a man
       anymore."
       But he was slightly doubtful. It was possible that the soldier
       had been telling the truth. There were rumours that there had
       been somebody who helped the [I]Blackbird[/I] steal silver -
       specifically a girl - but nobody knew whether this was true or
       not, as soldiers seldom saw anybody else with the thief.
       The [I]Hummingbird[/I], Lord Kharl thought wryly. [I]The legend
       might be true.[/I]
       - - - - -
       Vanice whistled softly as she drove the grey mare from a canter
       to a slow trot. It was hardly an hour after dawn, she noticed,
       glancing up at the sky. The clouds were rolling in, and the wind
       had noticeably strengthened. There would be a storm coming in a
       few hours, she thought to herself, then dismissed the worried
       furrow her eyebrows had assumed. She would be back to her tent
       by then. It was no matter.
       She halted a bit away from the door and dismounted the horse,
       keeping a tight hold on the reins. It  hadn't even been five
       days since she was last here, but once again, she found herself
       at the door of the Chief's house and hurling another bag of
       silver at him. This time, he managed to catch it before it hit
       his head.
       "Well now, I guess my job is done for the week." Vanice chirped
       before mounting the obedient horse and began tugging on Whip's
       reins. The mare had only just begun to turn when a voice called
       out behind her.
       "In four days? Why so early?"
       Vanice gripped the reins, annoyed by the interruption. She was
       hoping he wouldn't ask about the short space of time between the
       last delivery and the most recent one. She had her own reasons.
       With that thought, she forced out a short answer between her
       clenched teeth. "Just appreciate it."
       She disappeared in a matter of minutes.
       - - - - -
       The [I]Hummingbird[/I] had reined in and tied her horse to a
       tree about a hundred feet from the forest edge before travelling
       the rest of the way on foot. It was an hour after midnight, and
       wisps of grey cloud slowly crawled past the thin slice of light
       in the canvas of black above. There was a slight breeze
       whistling through the woods as well, softly rustling the leaves
       higher up in the trees as their branches swayed and bumped into
       others.
       It was a peaceful night.
       The [I]Hummingbird[/I] peered around the thick trunk that stood
       near the edge of the forest, slowly turning her head back and
       forth to search for cover points that led up to the castle wall.
       The inhabitants had cleared out a large amount of space between
       the castle and the tree line - a few hundred feet at least.
       However, they had done so in a rather sloppy manner. Tree stumps
       stuck up at different heights; many of them more or less knee
       height, but there were a few thinner ones here or there that
       could've reach up to the [I]Hummingbird's[/I] hip. She could've
       sworn that she saw one that was around waist height.
       "Too careless. Would've thought they'd be smarter." She muttered
       to herself under her breath.
       Finally, after a few minutes, she found a path that would easily
       conceal her from sight - at least from the sentries stationed
       around the outer walls. She inhaled deeply, then ran to the
       first point; a fairly thick tree that nearly reached her hip,
       and would hide her well. She crouched down for a few seconds,
       listening for any shouts or sounds of alarm that told her she
       had been spotted.
       The night was still as quiet as it had been before.
       Immediately, the [I]Hummingbird[/I] dashed to the next point and
       ducked down, listening intently for any sound of alarm.
       Again, there was none. And again, she ran to another point.
       When she made it to the last point - a rather thick stump that
       stopped a little above her knee - she stopped for about a minute
       to calm her heart rate and breathing, as well as giving her a
       little rest for the climb ahead of her. The outer wall was
       around thirty feet high, with a ledge that stuck out about foot
       or so. The wall had plenty of small ledges and handholds, though
       - that much she could tell, even from several hundred feet away.
       Once the [I]Hummingbird[/I] was sure that most of the adrenaline
       had faded away, she rushed to the wall and pressed herself
       against it, listening for any shouts of alarm before beginning
       the climb. It was simply too easy.
       - - - - -
       "INTRUDER! INTRU-"
       The [I]Hummingbird[/I] threw her dagger at the guard, not
       bothering to glare daggers at the man, as it never seemed to
       work. A soft gurgle replaced the final syllable, and the
       [I]Hummingbird[/I] nodded to herself in approval as her sharp
       eyes found the dagger protruding from the guard's throat.
       She ran past him, collecting the dagger as she ducked around his
       flailing arms and out the door. The inner courtyard was to the
       left of her, seeing as she had exited the Keep from a corner
       entrance, and a small force of men-at-arms were blundering
       around, attempting to get into formation before the intruder
       left the Keep.
       In the confusion, the [I]Hummingbird[/I] made for the open gate
       where soldiers were rushing in and out. Sticking to the wall,
       she slipped out of the courtyard and edged around the inner wall
       for a while until her view of the gate was obscured by the stone
       base of a tower.
       She breathed a soft sigh of relief, and decided to let her heart
       rate settle for a few minutes before making for the outer wall.
       She leaned her left side against the rough stone, tilting her
       head so her right ear could pick up any noise.
       Shouts could be heard where she was standing, but otherwise it
       was relatively quiet. Which was why she was taken by surprise
       when she heard a soft - almost silent - [I]hiss[/I] of steel
       against leather no more than twenty feet away from where she was
       standing. She tensed, silently berating herself for not having a
       keener ear for the world around her.
       [I]Blast it,[/I] she thought to herself in an annoyed manner.
       [I]Blast it, blast it, blast it![/I]
       Now that she was aware of the unwelcome presence, she could hear
       the shallow breathing and the occasional muffled footstep behind
       her. Again, she felt a surge of annoyance that somebody could
       sneak up on her like this without her knowing until they got so
       close.
       Another footstep, another two feet closer.
       The [I]Hummingbird[/I] closed her eyes, trusting her ears to
       supply all the information. Her right hand, still clutching the
       dagger that had killed the guard back in the Keep, itched to do
       the same to the person behind her who had nearly reached her
       without her knowing.
       Well, she still had the element of surprise on her side.
       [hr]
       I now see why people like to end at cliffhangers so much.
       A bit shorter this time around, but it's more of a chance to
       show what goes on in her head, and more practical information
       about her identity.
       #Post#: 26248--------------------------------------------------
       Re: The Feather of Vengeance 
       By: GRACETHEDUCK Date: July 29, 2015, 3:02 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [CENTER][B]Chapter Two[/B][/CENTER]
       "The sentries at the east wall abandoned their posts, curious
       bastards that they are."
       The [I]Hummingbird[/I] flung her right arm out backwards at the
       first word, but brought it to a stop when she realised the man
       behind her had made no move to yell for the guards or attack
       her. And by his rather deep voice, she knew very well it was a
       man.
       "Bloody- [I]Ow![/I]" A soft thud followed the former
       exclamation, and the [I]Hummingbird[/I] could only assume that
       the man had flinched away from the dagger point and crashed into
       the stone wall instead. She dropped her arm and pushed herself
       off said wall, turning to face the man with an eyebrow raised.
       "Interesting. I'll be sure to heed your advice." She said,
       ignoring the man's glower.
       He simply made a [I]humph[/I] sound.
       "And who, pray tell, are you?" The [I]Hummingbird[/I] continued
       on, eyebrow still raised. She glanced him up and down, quickly
       assessing his build and height. He was rather tall - even taller
       than her brother it seemed - and slim but fairly built, which
       she could tell even with the thick, black-dyed woollen coat he
       had donned. Short, dark-brown hair covered his head, and he was
       clean-shaven. He couldn't be more than a few years older than
       her.
       "Some sergeant or something, don't really care to be honest-" he
       began, but stopped when he saw the blank look on her face. "Oh,
       you were asking my name- [I]Oh[/I]."
       The [I]Hummingbird[/I] heaved a sigh of annoyance, and drawled
       out in a sarcastic tone. "Yes, I was asking your name."
       "Well then, I'm Carpher Gholsvel- hey, don't judge my father's
       name!" The last part was directed at the disbelieving look she
       threw him. "Yes, whatever- laugh it up, I don't care. Now I
       believe you owe me your name?"
       "The [I]Hummingbird[/I]." She replied icily, then tacked on.
       "Now I believe I should be making my escape instead of idly
       chit-chatting with a stranger whom I've only just met."
       A loud clanging sound rang from the inner courtyard, as if
       trying to prove her point. Carpher nodded. "Point conceded. The
       north-east tower should be unoccupied, so that's where I'd go."
       She nodded her acknowledgement and mock-saluted to the man
       before taking off towards the tower he had mentioned, leaving
       him in the darkness.
       - - - - -
       Vanice slid the small oak chest from under the low oak table
       that was smothered in maps and stolen castle-blueprints. The
       well-oiled hinges allowed the lid to swing open without a sound,
       which she was grateful for. She had no desire to interrupt the
       silence of the night - save the occasional low buzz of an insect
       or gentle rustling of leaves as small animals scuttled by.
       The inside of the chest was half-filled with extra silver her
       brother and herself had stolen when the town didn't need it. It
       was more of a back-up for a rainy day.
       At the thought of her brother, her mouth set in a hard line and
       she hurriedly emptied the bag she held of its contents before
       clasping the chest shut again. Without any thought, she held out
       a hand to push the chest back under the table, then paused as
       her hand came in contact with it.
       The dark oak was rough to the touch, but it felt somewhat
       comforting. Lammet had made it himself, and she realised that it
       was one of the few things left that reminded her of him. She
       stared down at it, taking in the warm dark brown that swam
       before her eyes.
       With a small smile spreading across her features, Vanice
       remembered why he had made it in the first place.
       - - - - -
       [I]"Dammit," Lammet cursed when he reached the clearing of their
       tent.
       Vanice looked up, eyebrow raised. She had been whittling a
       decent sized stick that she had found whilst scouring for
       firewood. It had several notches and leaves on it, but after she
       got rid of them and neutralised it, it would be suitable enough
       to make an arrow and she could attach a spare arrowhead and some
       fletching to make it so.
       "Apparently the merchants didn't pass through yesterday, and the
       coffer's still full." He explained, seeing his sister's
       expression.
       "Right," She replied, going back to whittling the stick. "So why
       don't we just keep it until they do?"
       "Well, we could. But what if this happens again in the future?
       Are we going to leave a massive sack of silver by the tent
       without any safe-keeping?"
       Vanice's head rose again to stare incredulously at her brother.
       "Are you planning on robbing more castles than necessary?"
       "Well no . . ."
       "Then why on earth would we have a massive sack of silver by the
       tent?"
       Lammet sighed. "Just saying, I want to avoid something like
       that. It's just an idea, but I was thinking we could make a box
       or something where we can put any extra silver we get. Just to
       avoid having a massive sack of silver by the tent."
       Vanice shrugged. "Whatever you want. We have nothing to do with
       that silver anyway. Make yourself whatever you want to make."
       "I'll be back in a couple of hours," Lammet called from the
       stable-like shelter they had rigged for their only horse, Whip.
       It was a simple shelter; made up of a large sheet of oil-skin
       attached to two branches of a large oak, and two younger trees
       slightly further away from the larger, thicker one. It had been
       a convenient spot they had found when they were looking for
       firewood after settling in another clearing slightly closer to
       the forest trail. They had relocated their simple camp into the
       clearing they were living in now. "Just going to go to
       Haltesville to look for some good wood."
       Vanice looked up, startled. She hadn't even heard him move, and
       he was already mounting their mare, holding up the small
       moneybag and shaking it slightly. The soft jingle of coins rang
       around the clearing.
       "I'll see you in a couple of hours or so." Vanice replied
       simply.[/I]
       - - - - -
       Vanice sighed, and slid the chest under the table again. It had
       certainly come to prove it's worth, she thought. It had reminded
       her of a memory she had shared with her brother. She needed more
       of those these days.
       - - - - -
       "Sergeant Gholsvel." An icy tone rang in his ear. Dammit, the
       Commander General was scary, he thought silently to himself.
       "Yes, sir?"
       Commander General Perlthsvel sneered at him, then gave him an
       annoyed look when he didn't seem affected by it. "Where were you
       last night, when there was an [I]intruder[/I] running around the
       castle?"
       "Waking up, sir," Sergeant Carpher Gholsvel replied easily.
       [I]Well . . .[/I]
       The Commander General seemed displeased by his answer. "And why
       were you not awake already?"
       Carpher resisted the urge to grin. "My men and I weren't due for
       sentry duty until dawn. I heard the intruder incident occured at
       around 0200, and none of my men except for two slept in the
       Barracks last night, sir."
       "And why were you not in the Barracks last night, hmm?"
       "Well, you see sir, some of my men and I were down at the local
       Pub dri- [I]socialising[/I] last night." And they had been.
       Until midnight.
       The Commander General shot him a disbelieving look. Likely about
       the socialising part, Carpher thought to himself. "I see. And
       you were [I]socialising[/I] until two hours after midnight, were
       you?"
       "Oh no," The urge to grin was back, but he continued to keep a
       straight face as he was interrogated about his whereabouts the
       previous night. "Not at all, sir."
       A flash of disappointment flitted by the Commander General's
       expression. Carpher knew why; if he had said yes, it would've
       meant that he was both waking up and staying up late at night
       socialising at the same time, which was rather unlikely to
       happen. Not that he had actually been doing either of those
       things at the time . . .
       The Commander General was good at this, he thought. Very good at
       this. "Right. Then where were you at 0200 last night?"
       "At the local Pub, sir." That was technically a lie. His
       soldiers had been, he hadn't. He definitely hadn't.
       "But you said-"
       "There are spare rooms at the Pub, sir. If you're not aware,
       sir." Carpher dead-panned, watching the Commander General's eyes
       narrow.
       "Of course," the Commander General spat out between his teeth.
       "I'm aware. Very well, you're free to go, Sergeant."
       Carpher kept a neutral face as he replied with a "Yes sir. Thank
       you sir. Of course, sir. Bye sir. Have a good day sir.". Then he
       marched out of the office with a faint "See you soon, sir.".
       "How did it go, Sarge?" A voice hissed out from the left of him
       just as the door closed with a soft [I]click[/I].
       Carpher turned around to face the person who spoke - one of his
       men and a close comrade of his - and ushered him away from the
       door with a cheerful grin. "Well, I just saved all your asses
       from two months of cleaning up duty."
       #Post#: 26249--------------------------------------------------
       Re: The Feather of Vengeance 
       By: GRACETHEDUCK Date: July 29, 2015, 3:02 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       [CENTER][B]Chapter Three[/B][/CENTER]
       Lady Farnia van der Hairnsther skimmed through the reports with
       a frown. "First spotted exiting the  coffer . . . First spotted
       leaving through the sally port at the inner courtyard . . ."
       She dropped the rapidly thickening sheaf of paper on the
       polished oak table, heaving a sigh. All the reports stated the
       thief had first been seen when he or she had been attempting to
       leave. And each attempt had been successful, she thought
       bitterly. There had to be something the thief did to escape all
       of these soldiers that were alerted as soon as he or she had
       attempted to leave.
       But this was the point where Lady Farnia always drew a point.
       There was no particular pattern the thief had used when robbing
       castles, either. He or she always seemed to strike at random.
       Lady Farnia muttered a soft curse under her breath. She couldn't
       allow this thief to meddle in their business. It would ruin
       everything, and they needed all the silver they could get.
       This was a difficult case.
       - - - - -
       "Vanice! Is that you?"
       Vanice whirled around, prepared for an attack. The town she was
       stopping by was a small, humble town - one that she had never
       been to before. As a result, she had been given many suspicious
       stares, and a lot of glaring. The voice sounded familiar though,
       but she couldn't let that affect her diligence.
       "Hey, hey, put that knife away will you?" The man called out to
       her, stopping several feet away.
       Vanice stared at him for a couple of seconds before realisation
       dawned on her. "Barlen?"
       Barlen grinned and held out his hand. "Glad that you remember
       me. According to Fenica, I look very different from five years
       ago."
       Vanice smiled sheepishly, but shook her hand with the one
       outstretched towards her. "Well, you do. I could hardly remember
       you. It's been five years, huh?"
       Barlen nodded and replied with a wistful expression on his face.
       "How are they, anyway? Is the village getting better?"
       Vanice's smile widened. "Far better than a couple of years ago.
       You should return soon and have a chat with all of us and catch
       up instead of having your sister visit you every couple of
       months."
       Barlen was Fenica's older brother, and one of the closest
       friends that Lammet had, quite like Fenica and herself. The bond
       had been there since early childhood, as both their parents had
       been very close neighbours.
       Barlen gave a sigh. "I probably should. But I have to get back
       to Ythrange and finish my apprenticeship. Come by the local
       smith and tell me when the village is rebuilt, will you?"
       Vanice nodded absent-mindedly, then titled her head to the side.
       "Ythrange . . . That happened to be the place I robbed four days
       ago."
       "Ah . . . Yes, I had heard of that. You gave the local Baron a
       real nuisance. Angered the Commander General a real lot too,
       from what I heard." Barlen shot her a wry grin. "Real sorry
       about Lammet by the way, he was the best friend anyone could
       ever have. I suspect he was an even better brother."
       "I'm inclined to agree," Vanice nodded. "Do come by the village,
       though. They could use another smith."
       Barlen grinned and nodded back at her. "I'll keep that in mind.
       I'll see you around, then."
       "Soon, hopefully." Vanice shot back, but smiled and waved
       farewell to him. She turned and continued her brisk walk.
       - - - - -
       Baron Greth van der Ythrange looked at his Commander General in
       an inquisitive manner. "Anything?"
       The Commander General shook his head. The Baron had given him a
       task to find out who the thief had been, or at least some
       sufficient enough information to organise a hunting party. And
       so, the Commander General had begun a three day search through
       his records, and eventually issued a month off mess duty to
       anybody who could supply even the smallest bit of information
       about the thief. He had become desperate.
       The Baron turned a disapproving eye on him. "Nothing? It has
       been five days, and yet you have nothing?"
       The Commander General grit his teeth. It had been a hard task
       that the Baron had given him to begin with, but it had been
       gruelling to carry out. He'd love to see if the Baron could
       achieve anything better. Nevertheless, he kept his tongue and
       replied in the best respectful tone he could. "No sir. Nothing,
       sir."
       The Baron simply observed him fir a short while before replying
       in a calm tone. "Commander General?"
       "Yes, sir?"
       "You are aware that you were chosen to be the Commander General
       because of your experience in warfare and tactics, yes?"
       "Yes, sir."
       "And so, I expect a full report of what was wrong with your
       defence plan and how the intruder managed to [I]intrude[/I] in
       the first place. Understand?"
       "Yes, sir."
       The Baron scrutinised the tall man in front of him for a while,
       before nodding slightly to himself. "Very well. You may leave. I
       expect a report on the fault in our defences in two days time."
       The Commander General looked up at the Baron one last time
       before turning on his heel and exiting the large, barren hall.
       The Baron watched the bulky man leave the hall before shouting
       for one of the servants standing in the corner whom was supposed
       to be there to tend to the Baron's every want and need.
       The servant hurried over and bowed as deeply as he could whilst
       stammering aloud a "Y-Yes, Milord?"
       The Baron didn't seem to notice. "Ask for Lady Farnia, would
       you?"
       The servant nodded frantically and continued stammering as he
       retreated to one of the doors in the corner of the hall. "Yes,
       o-of course! La-Lady Farnia! R-Right."
       The Baron still  paid no heed and continued staring at the two
       large doors that made the entrance to the hall, deep in thought.
       - - - - -
       Footsteps rang on the cobblestones behind her as she quickened
       her pace. Her horse was tethered to a gate post right around the
       corner. If she could reach it before they-
       "Vanice! Wait!"
       She stopped. Those who knew her name usually knew [I]her[/I],
       but that didn't mean that she could let her guard down when she
       didn't know who it was. Her hand crept towards her throwing
       knife, but she turned around nevertheless.
       "Oh, thank goodness! Honestly, I don't understand how you can
       walk so fast without runni-"
       "What do you want?" Her voice cut through the stranger's
       rambling like a knife, and he stopped, leaving only his ragged
       breaths echoing softly around the alleyway.
       Several seconds passed before the stranger spoke again. "I'm
       Kurt Gholsvel."
       Another few seconds passed as Vanice pondered the name. She
       could recall the name - more specifically the last name - but
       she had no clue where she had heard it from.
       The stranger continued when he saw that Vanice wasn't going to
       say anything. "My brother is a Sergeant of the Ythrange Army
       Forces, not that you'd care, but I like to think that it's
       something somewhat special. I, myself am an apprentice under one
       of the blacksmiths in Ythrange alongside these two other kids
       called Derian and Barlen, whom I saw you were talking to earlier
       in the morning, so I was just curious who you were so I asked
       him who you were and he- okay, I'll shut up!"
       It had clicked in her mind when he had mentioned that his
       brother was a Sergeant from Ythrange, but Kurt had continued
       rambling on about something or other, which had left her
       slightly annoyed, and with a lot of glaring to let out of her
       system.
       "You're Carpher's brother." Vanice stated as she examined Kurt's
       face. He had almost all the features that his brother had, maybe
       a year or two younger, and now that she thought about it, he was
       rather similar to him as well. "Makes sense, you ramble quite a
       bit too."
       Kurt's mouth fell open. "How do you know Carpher? Have you
       spoken with him? Just saying, he probably rambles far more than
       I do- Ow! Okay, I'll shut up!"
       Vanice released Kurt's elbow, and watched coolly as he hopped
       about trying to relieve the pain her grip and her twisting had
       caused him. "Next time, I'll actually dislocate it."
       The other man let out a shuddering gasp and nodded frantically.
       "Noted."
       "Now what are you doing here? Ythrange is north-west from here,
       and I've been heading south for quite a bit."
       Kurt had stopped his howling and whining now, and quickly
       replied. "Ah, you see, I was supposed to go further south to get
       some of the better steel that's available there, and Barlen was
       only at that little town back there to get some extra iron for
       our Master Smith back in Ythrange."
       Vanice nodded, thinking over what Kurt had told her. Everything
       he said seemed reasonable, and it didn't seem like she needed to
       be extra wary of him. It didn't explain why he had approached
       her though. "So what do you want?"
       He looked at her quizzically. "Sorry, what?"
       Vanice simply looked back at him with a blank expression. "What
       do you want?"
       A few seconds of silence went by before Kurt opened his mouth
       again. "What do you mean?"
       Vanice was tempted to strike out with her arm and hit him over
       the head, but she kept her temper, attempting to explain her
       question instead. "It's all very well to explain about how you
       knew who I was, but why in Gaeliahr would you just come up to me
       and strike up this [I]lovely[/I] chat, if you didn't have a
       bloody reason to?"
       Kurt blinked, but after a torturously long time, he seemed to
       understand what she was asking. "[I]Oh[/I], yes. Ah, I was
       wondering whether you'd mind if I just tag along for a bit then,
       seeing as we're both heading south anyway."
       Vanice's blank stare turned incredulous even before he finished
       his proposal. "[I]What?[/I]"
       "It'd be somewhat convenient, I mean, a little company on the
       road would be nice and I can-"
       "No."
       Kurt stopped his blabbering and tilted his head at her.
       "Pardon?"
       "I said no."
       The man didn't seem to get the message. "Why not?"
       "First of all, you've already wasted five minutes of light, and
       I'm trying to make good time to where I'm heading, not idly sit
       around chatting with some idiot who can't keep his mouth shut."
       Kurt had opened his mouth to deny it, and in return, Vanice had
       shot him a look that said that he was simply proving her point.
       "Secondly, I have detours to make, and unless you want to take a
       path that'll take at least ten times as long as it usually
       would, you'd be wise to go on your own way."
       Again, Kurt allowed several seconds to pass by before replying.
       It seemed to be the only time he would actually quieten down.
       "I wouldn't mind, I need a vacation anyway."
       Vanice narrowed her eyes at him, deciding that she'd had enough.
       "Let me tell you this; I go about my business alone. I need to
       get to places quickly, I need to do my job, and I certainly
       don't need to waste another five minutes arguing with you about
       this. Go about on your way, take your bloody vacation if you
       need to, but I travel alone."
       With that, she turned on her heel and left as dramatically as
       she could.
       #Post#: 26250--------------------------------------------------
       Re: The Feather of Vengeance 
       By: GRACETHEDUCK Date: July 29, 2015, 3:03 am
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       Re: The Feather of Vengeance 
       By: GRACETHEDUCK Date: July 29, 2015, 3:03 am
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       #Post#: 26252--------------------------------------------------
       Re: The Feather of Vengeance 
       By: GRACETHEDUCK Date: July 29, 2015, 3:03 am
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       Reserved for future purposes
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       Re: The Feather of Vengeance 
       By: GRACETHEDUCK Date: July 29, 2015, 3:04 am
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       Reserved for future purposes
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       Re: The Feather of Vengeance 
       By: GRACETHEDUCK Date: July 29, 2015, 3:04 am
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       Reserved for future purposes
       #Post#: 26255--------------------------------------------------
       Re: The Feather of Vengeance 
       By: GRACETHEDUCK Date: July 29, 2015, 3:04 am
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       Reserved for future purposes
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