Kim Possible is property of Disney. All original characters are property of author. This is a work for fun, not profit. A Six-string Samurai fan fiction. Broken Tides.
A/N: Expanded and edited for clarity. Chapter One finally complete after for-ever. Cheers!
Chapter One
Villa Gogola, Year 307
Pressing pale fingers against the window pane, the youngest of the Gogola line stared out across still waters, toward the shadow that rested in the middle of the lake. The first of dawn's light had only begun to thin the morning fog, and the isle was still hidden from view. Though, there was no doubting that shape, or the heavy feeling that rested in her belly, just by knowing it was out there. But, no matter how much her dark brown eyes wished, that shadow would not vanish, forgotten, into the mists.
Breath fogging the glass as she tried to think back to more pleasant times, Sheri Gogola stiffened startled when a heavy hand was laid upon her shoulder. The feeling faded within moments as she recognized the faint scent of sandalwood and cedar that her older brother was fond of.
Unmoving, the young raven-haired girl continued her vigil as time marched inexorably onward. Behind her, remaining in companionable silence, she could tell Hector was just as worried. In any other circumstance, he would have said something the moment he found her wandering the halls, but not this time. After all, what could he say in the face of what they both knew was inevitable. Words of comfort would be empty, only a reminder of what they stood to lose.
Still, the grip on her shoulder tightened, almost uncomfortably, and that was enough for her. It conveyed far more than wasted breath, and Sheri knew that her brother would do everything in his power to ensure that this would not be forgotten. The Gogola name would not suffer for this day. That was his unspoken promise to her. It gave her some measure of strength, made brighter the hope that lay at the bottom of her being; hope for a better tomorrow.
"It's about time to go," the distinctive rumble of her brother's voice pulled Sheri's gaze away from the window.
"Already," she asked, knowing the answer. He wouldn't have come otherwise, having spent the morning in a meeting with the Seneschal and the Blue Robe.
"Yes, the boat's sure to be ready. I-I wanted them to give you a little more time, but this was the best I could manage," Hector's firm grip left his sister, trailing off slowly as if she might collapse the moment he let go. "Meno told me you went to see Mother," he paused, uncomfortable with the subject, and they both knew it. "You didn't have to do that."
Sheri glared up at her brother, who towered over her, though she'd been starting to catch up over the last harvest season. "You were planning to stop me," it was as much a question as an accusation.
"No, and you wouldn't have listened to me anyway. I just didn't want you going down there any more than necessary," he turned away, not wanting this to be the way they parted.
"Is it too much that I wanted to see her? Let her see me like this," Sheri stepped away from the window, slippers padding against the cold tiles underfoot. "You're jealous that I wasn't scared to see her," she spun on her heel sharply enough to whip her chocolate tresses through the air as she stormed past her brother's stunned expression.
"You should think about that, Hector. After all, you'll have to do it eventually, or I won't forgive you. I'll hold it against you for the rest of my life. Maybe if you beg, Meno will go with you, but you might have to pay him to," her words were bitingly smug, and all too reminiscent of a Gogola woman. It didn't suit her pale, childish figure in the least. All it did was remind Hector of what they were all losing in this bargain.
"I don't want to talk about this, I just," he threw up his
hands in frustration. The whole situation was wearing on them all, and here he was, only adding to the misery. "This wasn't how it was supposed to be." He watched as his sister paused, halting her steps a few feet away.
"What did you think was going to happen? You knew, just like everyone else. Sometimes, we don't have a choice. Not for our family. Mother knew that, and made sure I did too," Sheri folded her arms in an unconscious imitation of said woman. "I can do this. I'm not afraid," she spoke evenly, while inside, her stomach roiled at the prospect. She stared at her brother, who met those shining brown eyes with no less pride. There was no question about what being a Gogola meant. It was a heavy burden to bear, but the weight wasn't unbearable.
After all, there were only two possible outcomes, either they could save the world, or condemn it. It was no small matter that a girl so young, not quite into her fourteenth summer, was tasked with giving up so much. It was also a thankless task, and must remain so, in order to succeed.
"Sheri," he looked as if he were going to say something more, but tightened his jaw, mirroring the resolve on his little sister's face. Instead, he merely nodded. She was right, and there was nothing left to say that wouldn't lead to regret. This was the best way to leave it. The young woman before his eyes deserved at least that much from him, he owed her for all the hardships he and their other brother, Meno, had visited upon her when they were all children. Yet, how they were paying her back? With exile.
It was too much, and it tore at him, not just as her brother, or even as Hector Gogola, but as a young man in search of his own meaning, his own honor. It was a heavy burden indeed, he reflected, as the two of them fell back into silence, walking side by side through the chilly stone halls. "I'm sorry," he ventured at last, just before they reached the arch that would lead them out to the courtyard and out to the docks. "About everything."
"Don't be. I'm not," the raven haired girl looked up at her brother, and then out over the courtyard at the small assembly gathered there. "I don't have to deal with all of Father's mistakes anymore, not after this."
"Or Meno," the broad shouldered Hector smiled, but it made him look twice his age.
"Or him," she nodded, heedless of the hiccup in her voice, or the wetness shining on her cheeks. It was getting harder to keep her feet moving forward.
Before the two made it halfway across the flagstones that divided the courtyard from the garden, they were met by the Seneschal and his retainers. Lord Fiske wasn't a tall man, but one could be forgiven for mistaking him so at a distance, due to his thin spindly limbs, and the haughty way he carried himself. That he was stuffy, demanding and entirely too self-important meant little to the Gogolas present. To them, he was something of an eccentric uncle, a long-standing friend of the family, and one of their father's staunchest supporters.
That the Seneschal, by title, was the voice of the Emperor in the surrounding countryside had little consequence to them growing up. The reality of his position hadn't really set in until three days ago, when Lord Fiske arrived at the Villa amidst a late summer storm, a look of resignation across his brow, and one of the Emperor's Blue Robes in tow.
Things had quickly turned around for the family at that moment. The time had come upon them, sneaking, crawling and worming past all their defenses. Though their station revolved around their role in the continued prosperity of the Empire, for the children, time passed slowly. Nevertheless, this day had come too soon, even with the constant reminder of their mother, a mother so near and completely distant all the same. It was a fate that Sheri now bore, and had been prepared for up until this day.
"Everything is in order, the only thing remaining is your presence, young Gogola," Fiske intoned, waving off the two robed men flanking him. Scratching at the sparse beginnings of a beard, the Seneschal looked off through the rapidly thinning fog, towards the tiny isle where several flickering orange lights could be seen. "I'm afraid we no longer have time to dally," he crouched down, bent at the waist to bring him level with the girl. "I trust you said all of your good byes," the look in his eyes was stern but not uncaring.
She only nodded in response, her attention alternating between that piercing gaze and the lights dancing out on the lake.
"Good, I'd hate to think what your father might say to me if you'd been neglectful," he gave her something that might have been a grimace on anyone else, but for a serious man like Lord Fiske, it was a beaming smile, and probably meant to be reassuring.
"Mother sends you her regards," the raven haired girl spoke at length, when the silence and the smile grew stifling to her. She might have slipped a blade between his ribs for how quickly his expression twisted.
The Seneschal drew up, glaring over Sheri's head at Hector, who met his gaze, albeit flinching mildly. "I don't suppose you might have had a hand in this," Fiske's voice dripped with distaste, and unveiled disappointment. "You should know well enough your father's wishes. Not to mention, have a bit of common sense. This is hard enough on your sister, without making things more difficult that need be."
"Of course, Lord Fiske," Hector bunched up his shoulders, as if he were trying to tuck his head away. "It was my mistake," he flushed, grumbling out a half-apology.
The thin man clicked his tongue, "I don't suppose it matters at this point, but you'd do well to keep your duties in mind, if you plan on carrying the line," he knotted his brows, "It's not enough to fill your father's boots. You have to be able to walk in them, and they are weighty indeed. But, that is talk for another day," Fiske turned away, taking Sheri's hand up in his own long fingers. "Come, we're only waiting on you. I pray that this dalliance is not too late."
Behind them, Hector dropped his head and wondered why it had come to this. Wasn't the country great? The Emperor was next to the gods; his hand reached far and crushed their enemies. That this even came to pass was beyond consideration. It bore deeper thinking, and left him with questions that he dare not ask. That the need for a family such as theirs existed at all was hard enough to come to terms with. In light of the duty they had been tasked as far back as the line was recorded, were they just sacrificial lambs in the end?
Because, that was all he could see, an ill made fate. His sister was the very image of their mother, regardless of the fate the two shared. He didn't want to watch, and Hector knew that his brother was of like mind, as was their father. But, the Seneschals' words rang true. There was a duty to be done. In the end, what was one life when weighed against the country? No matter that it was his baby sister who was being offered up. It was the right thing to do, even if he didn't believe that in the bottom of his heart. It was for the peace of the Empire, and what was one life in light of that? Rationality didn't quash the distaste in the back of his throat.
Shaking his head, the eldest of the Gogola children set his shoulders and hurried after the retreating forms of his sister and Lord Fiske as they headed to the small dock and the boat that would ferry them all to the isle. In just a few short hours, like them, the Villa would be poorer for this.
But, the Empire would enjoy another hundred years of peace and prosperity. The people would once again be safe, spared the waking of the terror that dwelled in the distant frigid peaks. If only they knew. He didn't linger on that for long, for there was more immediate concern. Hector caught up and took up his position just behind his sister on the boat. Overhead, the clear blue sky stared down, far too cheery for his liking.
The ride across the placid waters took little time, and the boat reached the island shore much too soon for either Gogola. But, they had arrived, and there was nothing for it but to finish what had to be done with the dignity expected of them. Because, in the end, they knew full well that this was a fated thing, decided from the moment Sheri took her first breath. Stilling the tremor in her hands, she stepped onto the soft grass as Lord Fiske beckoned.
"Come, I can already see that the Blue Robe is anxious to begin. We've dallied far too long as it is," he took the young girl's hand and led her to the edge of a large stone ring that almost completely spanned the tiny isle. The remnants of seven wide columns surrounded the smooth stone, once supports for large dome, now relics of the first ceremony, ages past.
As countless times before, and probably well into the future, a Blue Robe of the Emperor was waiting to perform the binding. Though the Seneschal mentioned a sense of urgency, neither of the Gogolas present could tell from the nearly motionless figure standing next to one of the blazing braziers arranged around the stone. The Blue Robe might very well have been a statue himself, and looked to remain that way until the end of time.
But, that changed the moment that Sheri stepped up onto the cool stone platform. This was a momentous occasion in her life, and as with everything else important in that short span, her father wasn't present. The head of the Gogola house was seldom around to begin with. She didn't begrudge him this particular occasion though. She would have wished to avoid this if she had a choice in the matter as well. Not that it didn't hurt that he was absent. It was just another memory that she would carry with her for a very long time to come.
Steeling herself as best she could, the young woman took another step toward the center of the platform. The Blue Robe was there, waiting. As from the moment the mage had arrived, she still couldn't make out the face beneath the heavily shadowed hood. There wasn't even enough to say truly whether the figure was a man, or a woman, or something else besides. It lent power to the personage of the Blue Robes, and a dangerous air all at once.
Even out here, away from the heart of the Empire, the Order was feared for their role as the deft hand of the Emperor. They were a mystery, and a legend. As far as she knew, the Order was almost without boundaries. They moved where they wished, and acted with impunity, given lease by the Emperor himself. Her father had told her as much, on the few occasions he availed himself to his family.
Still, the vaguely threatening air about the Blue Robe was little in comparison to her visit that very same morning. She'd gone to see her mother, and recalling that was enough to stop the trembling in her hands. There was very little in the world that could hold candle to the experience she put herself through each time she descended those stairs. Even Hector was too much like their father to make the trip.
She very much doubted he'd do the same for her, though she'd threatened him if he failed to scrounge up the courage. If he didn't, the guilt would eat away at him, she hoped. That was probably what had happened to their father all those years ago. She'd never allowed herself to see that, but it rang true enough now that she was standing here, where her mother and generations of Gogola women had stood before.
As the Blue Robe affixed heavy chains to her wrists, she waited, trying not to think about her own fate. It was another that she decided to consider. The Empire, the people, the things she was supposedly sacrificing herself for, they didn't matter to her in the least. She wasn't doing this for them, no matter what the Gogola line had been taught to believe.
No, this was for her mother, she decided. Because in the end, that is who would be free. Sheri was only taking the elder Gogola's place. It wasn't even forever. If she was lucky, she would see her mother again in a few years time.
The young Gogola stood in the center of the circle, bound hand and foot, with the shackles linking to chains that fanned out to each of the seven pillars. On her wrists and ankles, the heavy shackles bore inscriptions in a language that she didn't care to understand. Merely looking at the script for any length of time, made her head buzz.
The characters were familiar though, as she had seen them before. Her mother was bound much the same, and had been for as long as Sheri could remember. For now, the manacles were inert, but as the Blue Robe affixed the last chain, that soon changed. The air around the platform grew warmer, unseasonably so, as the Blue Robe stepped away and began to chant, the words too low to make out. The etched symbols started to glow, faintly at first, but brighter until Sheri felt she could see them even with her eyes closed. Then, the first flicker of pain struck, and she couldn't help but cry out…
Fifteen years later…
With a soft thud, the last of three brown robed guards stumbled backward against the side of the carriage, a shaft with green feathers protruding from his shoulder. Muttering curses and struggling to right himself, he managed to get to one knee before the bitter tang of steel pressed rather insistently against the side of his neck. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, the guard glared upward at the figure standing over him on the other end of the blade, "You're making a big mistake. This is going to Escadi…you won't get far," the short-haired guard thumbed his uninjured hand at a large crest painted on the side of the double doors behind him.
Like he said, the marking was unmistakable, a golden lotus blossom over a white field. It would be next to impossible to travel with it on unsanctioned roads; the main road toward the Capitol was out of the question.
Sharp enough to shave with; the blade pressed closer, drawing an angry red line on the guard's throat. He fought the urge to swallow, and spoke in the lightest of whispers, "You don't have to do this…we can work something out. Whatever you want." He tried to focus his attention on his attacker, rather than the threat implied, but the sun was almost directly overhead and nearly blinding.
"Escadi. If it's going there, it's probably for the Baron. Which means it's worth the trouble I went through," the assailant finally spoke, almost thinking aloud.
If the definitely feminine voice surprised him, the guard didn't let it show, "I don't know what you've heard, but the Baron doesn't suffer thieves. You'd be lucky to lose both your hands for the trouble," he croaked out, mindful of his windpipe.
"And you'll be lucky if I let you go crawling back to whatever rock they found you under. Now, be quiet while I decide what to do with the three of you," the shadow stood up straight, though the blade never so much as wavered.
The two of them remained at a standstill for nearly two minutes longer, before the blade was withdrawn and sheathed before the guard could draw a sigh of relief. Despite his self-serving warning, this was only the fourth time he'd worked escort duty on this route, and the first time they'd been ambushed. The Emperor's seal had long been a deterrent for highway robbery. Then again, that was before the problems on the western border two years ago. That was the reason why they'd taken to traveling in groups of three or more.
He shot a quick glance at his fellows, both of whom were laid out flat on the side of the road, almost hidden in the weeds. It was supposed to have been a quick piss break. Now they were up to their necks in it. Shit, they would be hard pressed to keep their jobs after this. Forget telling the Captain exactly what had happened either. This was of course assuming they were heading back at all in the first place. "This mean you're letting us go?"
"I guess that depends on your cargo, and what it's worth," the back lit figure mused, putting a hand on its hip. "Care to enlighten me?"
The guard was dumb-struck. There actually were people willing to risk inciting the Baron's anger on a gamble, even with the recent trouble around the countryside, it was an absurd notion. He craned his head back, glancing at the coach, he eyed the prominently displayed golden crest.
Then again, the Baron wasn't the only person that bore considering. This was a personal delivery from the Emperor, himself. Not that it was anything of particularly high value, or there would have been a much larger escort. At least, that's what the three of them had been told, none of the escorts actually knew what was inside. It wasn't their business, it was enough to know that it belonged to the Baron, the guard conceded to himself. Anyone foolish enough to rob the Baron was only begging for trouble.
It seemed the guard's involuntary silence wasn't the answer the robber was looking for, and a sharp cough bit the air, "You don't have all day. And, neither do I."
The guard turned his attention back, wincing as the motion jarred his shoulder, just as the rough sole of a leather boot slammed into him. The kick caught him in the center of his chest and sent him sprawling flat on his back. Fresh waves of nausea laced pain roiled in his gut from the tumble.
"This works better for me," the lithe figure loomed over the downed guard for a moment, then keeping him pinned with a foot across his chest and upper arm, yanked the arrow free from his shoulder. As the steel tip wasn't pronged it slipped out with only small effort on her part. "Sit there until I leave. One or both of your friends should be waking up shortly. If you three have a brain among you, none of you should have to worry about bleeding to death," the pressure left his chest as the robber stepped away to the door of the carriage. "Now, let's take a look, shall we."
Deciding it was a lost cause at this point, the guard lay there while the carriage was rummaged through, keeping as much pressure as he could bear to staunch the free flowing blood. He could only hope that the injury would mitigate his punishment for failing in his duty. Not that second chances were likely.
She'd been at this for nearly three years now, and her sense of what was useful, and what amounted to little more than an aristocrat's fancy, had grown by leaps and bounds. Most of that knowledge was hard won through trial and error, and of course, making a few friends in the right places. Picking the lock on the doors of the carriage had proved a moment's work, and no sooner said than done.
Throwing the doors open wide to the sunlight and warm breeze the young woman, known to most as the Red Sylph, found the Baron's precious cargo to be somewhat lacking.
"This is everything, is it," the question was tossed over her shoulder to the downed escort, though she received no reply. Indeed, there was very little in the way of cargo, precious or otherwise. Nothing more than a few pallets of folded cloth, two wooden chests, and a few other odds and ends stacked up under a shelf at the back of the carriage.
Rifling through the cargo, she checked the chests first and let the lids drop back down after only a moment. They held several large glass jars, each filled with various colored powders. It might have been spices, but even so was worthless to her. She could probably find a willing buyer in the city, there was just the tiny matter of hauling around the containers. The crates all bore the Crest, and were just asking for trouble, not to mention moving them in the first place. "Well, just great," her prospects were quickly dwindling.
After a bit, she cleared a space through the junk and was able to get to the shelf at the back to get at a tied up trio of leather tubes and a small lacquered box. "Wouldn't it have been easier just to hand carry this," she rolled her eyes, "There better be something halfway decent in here," she unsecured the box, taking it down from the shelf. An intricate golden design was painted across the surface of the dark red wood, just under the varnish. It was a little too flowery, and definitely far too light, for her liking.
As with the door, the maker of the box might as well not have bothered attaching a lock. Popping the lid, she peered inside and it was all she could do to keep from tossing it against the wall in frustration. Nothing but a few sheaves of parchment, not even worth breaking the latch in the first place. Moreover, the scrawl that passed for writing on the top page was horribly illegible. The best she could make of the top sheet was that it appeared to be some kind of writ for taxation. While it might be important to the Baron, it was next to useless to someone like her.
Rifling to the bottom, just to be sure, she ended up tossing it back onto the shelf. Frankly, it didn't really matter to her one way or the other what the Baron, or even the other Landlords were doing. The Emperor's word might be Law, but Escadi was hardly Amadis, the Capitol.
Out here, the Baron and his followers made their own rules, and whether the citizen's money lined their coffers or the Emperor's it was all the same at the end of the day. Everyone did what they had to, to survive. She'd long come to terms with that. And if surviving meant stealing from the rich to feed yourself, then so be it.
Leather gloved fingers closed around the trio of tubes, praying for even a small bit of fortune to offset the time and effort she'd already spent gathering the information on this delivery in the first place. Not bothering to separate the three hard cases, the red-haired robber popped all of them open, peering down into the meter long cylinders. Each bore a thin roll of soft leather. Setting it all down, she withdrew one of the rolls, letting it unfurl so she could see it in the sunlight that poked in through the open doors. Her eye traveled over some of the familiar, and not so familiar markings etched onto the soft hide. "A map…but something's off."
Indeed, a large section on what appeared to be the eastern edge was simply blank. While she hadn't seen a true map of the Empire before, there was little doubt that she was holding such a thing in her hands. It was enough that she found Escadi clearly marked out. The hand was much neater and obviously not the same that had scrawled the writs she'd found. On a hunch, she set aside the first map and dug out one of the others. Like the first, it was mildly defaced. Curios that, but she didn't have the luxury of time to figure it out just now.
Rolling up the maps, the woman who some called Red Slyph, among other less flattering names, slung the bundle of tubes across a shoulder, where they thumped softly against the quiver of arrows on her back. Taking one last quick check around the place, she shook her head and stepped back out into the afternoon sun. It might have been a waste, and then again, maybe not. There were people willing to pay for such finely detailed maps, even if they were a little damaged. The protective casings were unmarked by the Golden Lotus made the possibility of pawning it off much greater.
The downed guard watched with troubled eyes as the future of his career faded away, like the blazing flash of red that disappeared into the tall grass at the edge of the dirt road. How was he supposed to explain this to the Baron? None would believe that three trained soldiers were bested by one lone brigand, and a woman at that. If his shoulder didn't hurt quite so much, he might have laughed at the absurdity of it all.
Instead, he pulled himself back to his feet and went to check on the other two, maybe they were luckier and had only been knocked unconscious. The woman had only implied that she'd left them alive, so there were no guarantees. If worse came to worse, and he found them dead, well he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
Coreb wasn't well known for anything in particular, aside from being a little off the beaten path, nestled snugly between the eastern edge of an expanse of forest, and the wide plains to the south of Escadi. The town, barely large enough to count as such, was pastoral, and nearly indistinguishable from its surroundings. Aside from the yearly tithe collector sent from the north western city of Whitefort, the Emperor might as well have been blind to its existence. The people went about their lives with that in mind, and worked toward keeping their own peace.
Once in a while, a traveling merchant would wander by, and might be welcomed, usually in exchange for news from abroad. Though most wanderers were discouraged from settling down, and usually moved on after spending a night or two lodging in the spare room above the village's general store.
It was there that Red Sylph was currently staying while she decided what best to do now that her recent venture had all but failed. Getting her hands on the escort schedule hadn't been cheap, and she'd been counting on a few hundred Fels, which would have more than made up the difference. Instead, all she had to show for her effort was a set of maps. As good as they appeared, she needed something more substantial. Something that would pay her way across the borderlands and have enough left over to charter passage on a ship.
Though the arm of the Empire was long, its grip was wavering. The Emperor was old, frail. He had been well past his middle years, even in her father's day. Still, there were those that had grown fat and happy in his care, and they supported him blindly to this day. That loyalty came at a price. Land and lavish gifts, those were the price for obedience. The Barons benefited most of all, even ones in the outskirts like here. That fact was exactly what she counted on, since they had to all be hand delivered. It just so happened that her hands were in the right place at the right time, now and again.
The Capitol was stirring, and few knew what to make of it. Even here in the outskirts, tension was beginning to spread. Visitors were fewer in number as the Emperor sought to tighten his hold on the main roads, restricting travel. Official traffic was also avoiding the countryside routes more and more often, confined solely to the Emperor's road. Writs of Passage were becoming the norm, and check points dotted the provinces bordering the center of the Empire.
All told, it was steadily making the Red Sylph's job that much harder, more costly, and increasingly dangerous, as she generally worked alone. There were her contacts of course, those dissatisfied with the current state of affairs. But, none of them so willing to put their necks firmly on the line, as she did. Their trade was limited to information, not action. She couldn't fault them for it, not completely. Besides, without that sort of aid, she wouldn't be able to continue on as she was. Unless the whispers of rebellion were of more substance than shadow, and that bore looking into.
However, any change would be slowed in reaching Escadi and its environs. The Baron would see to that, and he was a capable man indeed. She had a healthy respect of the man, and was wary of crossing him openly. If anything, this latest attempt to procure funds was reason enough to move on. Coreb was quiet, but that just meant her passing through would be all the more noticeable.
Much like elsewhere, no one here owed her anything, so she'd made well sure to keep her activities far from the nearby roads. The trek back from the coach had been a long one, nearly half a day on foot. None of the guards had been left in a position to follow her, and she'd made sure to double back more than once on her own trail to throw off any unlikely pursuit.
For the moment, she was holed up in the little room above the General Store. The store keep was nice enough to rent it out to her through the week's end. That meant she had one more night, and would need to be off on the road again come dawn, which was fine by her.
There was little need to bring trouble into this little hamlet. She rather liked the peace and quiet, and might have a need to pass through in the future. That was of course, provided she didn't strike it rich as she firmly planned on doing. But, a more pressing matter had her attention over flights of fancy. Current profits, and how she could make them, took precedence.
It had been approaching dusk when she'd made it through what passed for the gate into Coreb. The light swiftly faded this time of year, and holed up in the tiny room, the sole window was already covered in shadow. She'd already shed the forestry garb and was lounging about in her small clothes. The bolt to the door was shut as habit dictated, and the red haired thief was pouring over the maps that she'd liberated earlier by candlelight.
All three proved to be missing portions. Though she found that could be possibly remedied, and began laying them all down side by side. As the third map was blank to the west and southern region, it wasn't hard to put the three back into the right order. Crouching down, the redhead considered her handiwork.
"So, this is the whole of it then," her eyes roamed across the lands that the Empire spanned, the original country lines still visible, but in most cases renamed as either protectorates, or doled out to various Lords in longstanding service to the Emperor's seat. It was all very current as far as she could judge given her penchant for travel.
There were a few curious things about the combined layout, but the one that caught her eye was a spot not far from Escadi. Unlike the rest of the otherwise pristine skin, this section appeared to be deliberately marred, almost like someone had started to burn it off but then reconsidered at the last moment. Under the charred blotch she could barely make out a few bits of blue that might be a lake, or a spring.
Given the sheer size of the map, it was hard to judge distances, but the blotch was somewhere to the north east of the city, close to the foothills. Maybe one of the locals would know a thing or two about it, though she wasn't too thrilled with the prospect of digging for information up in Escadi proper.
Still, someone had gone through the trouble of shipping this particular set of maps all the way from Amadis. The Baron was meant to have it, but things hadn't turned out that way. Something was clearly hidden, and kept from common knowledge. An important something if the feeling in her gut was anything to go by, and it usually was. It spoke of money, and that wasn't a feeling she was inclined to ignore.
Reaching for one of her knives in her pack slung around the headboard, she gingerly scraped at the scorched area, removing a little of the char at a time until it was eventually uncovered. There was script beneath the burnt layer as the ink had evidently soaked down into the map. The hand was barely legible in the first place, but she could just make out a portion of the two words near what had to be a lake. "Gogol-," she mouthed, the name not holding any particular meaning that she could recall. But, it was something she could start pressing her contacts in near Escadi with.