Cooperative
Straddling a rafter for about half an hour was getting to be more than just a chore, especially considering the pungent stench that got worse and worse over time. He'd begun to go slack where he lay, but drew himself into a taut and alert position of stillness when rattling came from the door. The struggle with the door was strange, and stranger still when he heard the lock smashed before entry. Two cloaks pushed their way inside, recoiling at the aftermath of Nick's death but staying just long enough to investigate.
"It was locked from the outside. How the fuck did he get out?"
The cloak left of the one speaking glanced around some more, and looked up to the rafters -Crispin set a hand on his knife, but even when they made eye contact, the cloak smirked at Crispin... and ignored him.
"Saika must've forgotten to actually lock it, and the kid locked it behind him to mislead her. Which means Grau is going to be very mad..." The implications of the statement seemed to amuse the two, and as they both shut the door on their way out, Crispin didn't hop down until ten more agonizing minutes passed.
The door hadn't been left barred as Saika had, but with the obvious openness the two men had acted with, Crispin still glared the door down for another moment before pushing it open slowly, quietly, and made a swift stab in the small space provided by the opening. He only left enough of his hand out to at worst lose a finger and/or be disarmed, wherein he had the small cleaver in his other hand ready if someone used this situation and tore the door open the rest of the way. No such action took place -he was fine. Pushing the door open the rest of the way, he was still alright, and felt a little silly that he'd thought quite so far ahead for something that didn't feeling was overshadowed by curiosity when he could hear some kind of commotion going on further back from this wagon.
The time he'd spent biding inside had let the sun sink almost entirely over the horizon, trees and clouds masking the very faint remainder of its last sliver of light to lend. Crispin dropped to the ground, rolled underneath Saika's wagon, and shuffled toward the back of the vehicle with more haste than any of his previous actions had had -he was accustomed to moving without making sound in dirt and grass after all. Peering out from here, he could see that many of the cloaks were gathered around two in specific; Saika and another, the tallest of those he'd seen at his own nomadic caravan site. This was Grau, wasn't it? He struggled to remember.
The crowd amassed here wasn't big by any means, but this many cloaks in one place made him want to count to at least know what their minimum was in numbers; he counted eighteen heads strong, including the two that were surrounded by these men in a rough circle, though he could see them somewhat well it wasn't entirely clear of obstacles -one of the cloaks stood near enough to be obscuring some of what Crispin could see. No one was speaking at a very high volume, until the tall one's voice rose, allowing Crispin to clue in on what he was saying;
"... that said, I told you before what would come of ignoring my command another time. This is Heft all over again... I'll have you remember your place in this hierarchy. Face the consequences of your actions, or get on your knees and beg; it's up to you." Saika made a face that suggested she wasn't taking him seriously.
"So this whole thing is about finding any reason to bring us hunters down to the rest of your level? She put you in charge of us only to give the rest of you the idea of standing with us instead of under us. It's a joke!" She sounded almost like a child having a tantrum over favoritism between siblings. The defiant statement wasn't sitting well with the crowd.
Grau spoke up, and his volume overtook the atmosphere. "The Schaless gave me command because I can keep you in line. All of you... if you think that's a lie, I welcome you to prove me wrong."
Saika lunged from her position with an animalistic anger, and the fight only lasted mere seconds. Grau stood still as Saika brandished her weapon -some manner of extending polearm, Crispin couldn't quite tell it from here. Grau made some swift hand movements and minor footwork, nothing exaggerated but enough to easily disarm Saika in the brief amount of time he spent delivering what sounded more like slaps than strikes. She stumbled to the side, and he tripped her, watching her fall into the mud left over from the other night's rain with a splatter.
"If that's all you had to offer, I'm thoroughly disappointed." Grau muttered, just barely audible. She tried to push herself up, and he stepped on her back, pressing her down. Her aura flared, and at first it looked like he wouldn't actually be able to keep her pinned, but she lost that strength when he reached down and prodded her in two spots. Crispin felt a twinge of something in his stomach, but couldn't place what it was.
Grau drew something from under his cloak at his belt, a cylinder in his grasp that extended into a whip of some kind. "Am I on your level yet, Saika? Does this feel like you're standing over me?" He pressed her into the mud a little more, but eased up on the pressure after, enough for her to begin to push herself up yet again. She spat out dirt, cursed at him, and he made a lazy flicking motion with his rightmost whip towards the girl below his boot.
Rather than lash her in any way, the long, dark tendril of a weapon curled around her bicep now that it were up a ways enough to be encircled. She glanced over at the object, still enraged but puzzled. Grau's voice rose again; "Aura is equipped to deal with most any exterior dangers, but if it impeded touch, navigating your surroundings would be impossible. You could never get traction when you run, or climb... because of that, you can still touch something, and find that it's sticky. Such as the adhesive around this fiber."
Grau thumbed a slider on the side of the whip's grip, and as he moved it up a low hiss was audible, and Crispin took a moment to be able to tell what was happening; it was some function causing the actual woven fibers of the whip to expand... and since it was wrapped around Saika's arm, and stuck like glue, the weapon now engorging like this was putting her arm under pressure. He was taking the function to further extremes, but slowly, as Saika clenched her teeth. "Pressure is also something aura doesn't do well with. Impact is one thing, but receiving an embrace from a loved one or sidling up to a wall is slow and deliberate pressure. Once it becomes threatening, it's too little too late for your aura to interfere with."
There was a loud pop, and Saika's head reared up, but Grau moved his foot to step on the back of her head and put her face back into the ground before she could let out more than a second's worth of her screaming. The man ground his heel into her amber locks, and only now relinquished the expanding whip's hold on her arm after that looped part of her limb had become half the size it was meant to be. How he got the adhesive of the fiber to let go was a question that would sadly go unanswered, Crispin thought... There was an oppressive silence, as Grau swept his line of sight over the audience, and then grabbed Saika's foot and dragged her a bit backwards so he could lift her halfway off the ground by her leg.
She had been groaning unintelligibly into the earth until Grau made to act further now than this lesson had suggested he would, and with panicked eyes she looked over to him. "Grau, Grau stop! Grau I'm sorry for my attitude I'll fix it-" He flicked with a bit more enthusiasm toward her ankle, wrapping it up, and still gradually increased the pressure around the joint but gave significantly less gracious time to this one than he had the last. Her ankle crunched, and she went to shout again before Grau threw her down again. Her body convulsed with sobs quieted by the ground, and he stared down at her for less time than he'd given for the last break between injuries. Lifting her by the hair this time, he held her directly out from him so that she faced the rest of the cloaks, and wrapped the whip around her throat this time. Her pain-addled expression grew more attentive with realization, and she managed a squeak as he applied the slightest of pressure, just enough to labor her breathing.
"I've never liked you much, Saika... for someone who so enjoys laborious and creative ways to hurt people, you can't handle much of it yourself. If you can't stand what it's like, deriving the kind of pleasure you do in delivering it is... hypocrisy at it's finest. A mathematician who adds and adds, but can't subtract, isn't brilliant. They are blind and greedy." He increased the constriction of Saika's neck, and she gripped the thing with her hand that she could actually raise, her aura trying to interfere but being too slow to respond as Grau had explained. Just as it seemed he would slowly asphyxiate the woman, he released her from the whip's hold and discarded her to the side, regarding her coldly as she spluttered and struggled with her lame foot, snapped arm, filthy attire and shattered ego.
"This is as much as I think I need to do to punish her... but she insulted the lot of you, too, and right now she can't defend herself. I don't care what you do from here... she asked for it. Just don't kill her, if you can refrain." Grau turned his back on the huntress, and the pack behind him split into halves; those satisfied with the display, and those descending on the easy prey. From the sounds of Saika screaming hoarsely, thread tearing, and battery, she was going to get the same treatment she'd pitied Vivily for -but from many contenders, if they were all vying for a go. It was like watching ants swarm over a forgotten apple core.
Some of them were pushing each other around, others were just plain hitting her or who was on her, the chaos was hard to watch and harder to comprehend clearly. Crispin waited for the ones leaving to get some distance; these individuals were receiving new direction from Grau now, and he heard 'river kid' mentioned, putting him on edge. He stayed put for now, and couldn't avert his eyes from the woman who was responsible for Nick's fate. He was trying to justify Saika's punishment as a result of karma. It arguably was... but he couldn't stay the gut-wrenching disgust from what little he was seeing, the screams, laughter, groaning. Crispin sympathized, but was angry at himself for it. She didn't deserve for someone to feel sorry for her, so why did he? Had he been witness to too much of things like this lately?
After a few minutes' wait, Crispin crawled out to the side of the caravan that none had taken to vacate, as they'd left more space on the westward side for foot traffic than this end. Leaving the scene behind him physically and mentally, he began creeping along past the altercation and the wagon beyond that, aiming to reach the one they'd tossed Vivily into on their way in. It didn't take long to find it, the sliding door on the side shut and no way to tell who was inside or what might be happening. Putting his ear to the outside, and holding his breath, the material of the wagon itself was so thick that it muffled nearly all sound -and what was left over didn't help him determine anything. The lack of windows still present, Crispin clambered underneath in hopes of finding an alternate entrance; even if he couldn't get in properly, knowing it was there would make for a decent means to escape given he got in elsewhere.
Crispin inspected the bottom of the wagon, finding nothing. He clenched his fists against the surface, lying on his back, so close but unable to overcome his fear of what was inside. Of course they would have someone watching over the apparent prison, but the longer he stalled, the worse could be happening inside... it was Vivily all over again, where his hesitation could be costing someone a part of themselves they could never get back. It was time he quit beating around the bush and took action.
Moving back to the other side of the wagon, Crispin checked for witnesses, having to wait out the passage of one cloak coming from the front of the chain of caravans. After this, he dragged himself out into the open and set a hand above the sliding door, while using the other to knock on it. Quick as he could, Crispin leaped up and got into a crouch on top of the mobile room, turning around while holding his own cloak so that it wouldn't make noise. He made it up just in time, as the door clicked and rolled open hardly a moment after he had tapped on it. With the empty outdoors greeting this man, he poked his head outside, ripe for Crispin to make his move.
Slipping his feet back so he could lay prone with his chest over the edge of the roof, Crispin looped his fishing line as a garrotte once again but he'd known he couldn't just lift a fully grown man off the ground like this. Rather than choke him, he looped it around his neck as he would in this case but switched to hold both ends in one hand. As the Cloak began to react, Crispin used he free hand to take his knife and plunge it down into the soft flesh at the side of his neck while yanking the fishing line upward; The choking of the garrote restrained the loud gargling of drowning in his own blood to a few cough-like attempts, and even as the man died in seconds his collapse nearly took him over the edge of the roof Crispin held the line as well as he could.
As the victim's arms went slack, Crispin swiveled into a sitting position and moved from the roof down to the ground, catching the body as it began to fall and clenching his teeth beneath the weight. He pushed it up until he could shove it back inside the caravan, and followed it up inside, pulling himself in to his hands and knees facing the longer half of the caravan's interior.
He had expected it wouldn't be so easy, and of course, he was right. Another Cloak was waiting with crossbow ready at the end of the interior, certainly more aware than the guy he'd just seen die in a doorway. Crispin had no time to dodge the bolt, but lifting the corpse he'd just pushed back inside and hiding behind it was the perfect option as he was still right next to it; the stake was rather quiet as it landed, and Crispin dropped the body to roll over it and scramble to his feet, moving toward the Cloak with haste.
Reloading the crossbow would take too long, a problem Crispin was familiar with himself, which was the reason he rushed his approach toward the man. As he wasn't going to be able to get another shot off properly at this distance, the man dropped the weapon and drew his own knife, making Crispin second-guess his choices for a second before they came within range of one another.
Crispin made to stab the man in the stomach, but the knife coming at his own chest made him step aside halfway through, only cutting the guy's upper pantleg and leaving a shallow cut while diverting the Cloak's knife into his shoulder. The gash was deep enough that he could feel the edge grind against the bone, but he couldn't afford to dwell on it. Flipping the knife in his hand, Crispin brought his arm back from having gone wide and aimed to stab the kidney this time; the Cloak stepped back, withdrawing his weapon and dodging this return trip with a fresh spray of blood onto the prison bars from the cut dealt to Crispin. One step back and two forward, the Cloak brought himself around for another try on driving the tip of the blade into Crispin's throat.
Ducking to the left, Crispin felt the blade pass through his hair and leave a cut on his scalp, turning around to grab the outstretched arm of the Cloak and lead his momentum into the bars, swinging him chestfirst into the cell on their left and wasted no time using this opportunity to stab him in the side a half dozen times, using his other arm still wounded to pin him for what time he could hold him down for these injuries. Twice in the kidney, one in the lung, and multiple more stabs that he wasn't sure of later, and the man's strength finally began to leave him -but not before breaking free of the hold on his arm, turning it, and bringing it back down to his side behind him, piercing one last wound into Crispin's arm an inch above the elbow.
Crispin hissed the pain through his teeth shut tight, throwing the man off the bars and onto the floor to bleed out. He returned to the sliding door of the caravan, shut it, and put his back ot it, legs buckling and giving way to a sitting position. He heard someone talking to him, ignoring it for the time being in favor of attempting to stop hyperventilating. It was once the spur of the moment had run out that Crispin saw the two men he'd killed for what they were, and the blood soaking half his newly acquired clothes and shaking hands; he scrambled on the wet floor, unable to keep his eyes focused on any one thing, trying not to scream and failing to catch his breath as he'd sat here to try to do.
"Crispin! Crispin, snap out of it, they're dead!" Vivily said, hands on the bars. Her clothes had been taken again, but not all of them, just the protective layers. He took the time to actually process the rest of his surroundings; Vivily was in a cell by her lonesome, but the one next to it had her mother, Trillia, who looked to have seen better days. Wearing a rag that was the remnant of her dress, and she was speckled wth bruises heavy and light, and one of her hands was mangled as if someone had taken the time to break her fingers individually. She was sitting staring wide-eyed his way, and in her cell with her were two of the children from their nomadic group, Matthias and Olivia.
Matthias was about 11 years old, and Olivia a tad older but not by a full year, if he recalled. The poor kid looked like he'd gotten pretty weighty punch judging by the swollen purple eye, messing with his already round face, not much of a surprise as he'd been scrappy to begin with. His hair was black, disheveled and short, still left with a shirt and pants but his shoes were gone like everyone else. To flee barefoot would always be more difficult. Olivia was a kid with a lot of charisma, active and clever for her age, face befreckled and oak-brown hair done up in a mid-height ponytail oftentimes. She looked rightfully terrified, but oddly enough, mostly unharmed. The two kept a close hold on Trillia, in a defensive but desperate way.
Crispin had gone from savage, to tired, to frightened, and now he'd been dazed until Trillia spoke up. "Crispin, it's alright now. You're safe right now, honey. Please, get the cell doors open." Her soft tone shook a little, and only managed to be soothing through an undertone of hoarseness he didn't want to think about. He tried to push himself to his feet, first with his arm that had a gash in the shoulder and flinching from the pain, then with the other that still had a knife shoved through the muscle of his bicep causing him to recoil with a sharp inhale and fall onto his side. He whimpered, hit his head gently on the floor, and settled for the less painful of the two options he'd just tried.
At his feet, He trudged through the room to the keyring on the second dead Cloak's belt as pointed out by Olivia. Cutting the belt to take the ring off faster, Crispin fumbled through the keys as only one of the four seemed to be for the cells; what the rest handled was currently unknown to him. He got Vivily and Trillia's cells open, and checked the others to make sure they were truly empty, finding they were. "This is too few. Is there another holding caravan?"
Olivia nodded. "There's a 'testing group' that most of them were put into and taken someplace else. It's just the four of us in this prison, now."
"Turner and his wife were here, but they were... released." Trillia said, Matthias making a downcast expression. Crispin wondered if maybe that was the same way Emy had been tossed aside, but couldn't see it being the case when he hadn't seen any signs of them on their way chasing the Cloaks. "Nick was also here briefly, but a blonde woman dragged him away."
Crispin scowled, and screwed his eyes shut briefly at the name. "You guys... won't be seeing him again. Nick's gone." The reactions were tame, being that they all had suspected as much, but the sorrow still grew heavy. Crispin winced at his arm's condition again, wanting to remove the weapon still lodged in it, but he had to leave the knife in until he could correctly care for the wound. Being the worst for bleeding he had gotten yet, there was still a significant flow of it staining his sleeve, but he had no means to staunch it if it got any worse. They had to flee first, and tend later.
"Can you walk, Trillia?" He asked, extending his better hand for her to take if she needed it, but she physicaly recoiled from it when he offered. he quirked a brow, but he could guess as to why. Whatever had been happening to her was likely at the hands of people wearing the same cloak he had right now... she was holding up strong, but probably only for the sake of the children it appeared she'd been shielding up until now. The woman could crack anytime.
"Vivily, help your mom. Matthias, back of the line, watch our ass end. Olivia, between me and Viv." He said, pushing the cleaver he'd stolen into Vivily's free hand and handing one each of the small torture picks he'd taken to Matthias and Olivia. He kept one for himself, his knife, and pilfered a crossbow off the dead two. There weren't enough bolts between them for Crispin to want to equally arm more than one of their group, so he kept a crossbow and their collective seven bolts, one loaded. The supplies taken off them were also handed out evenly so no one would have to be the mule of the group and risk one person losing it all.
Crispin's quick orders gave Vivily a puzzled look. "You don't want me up front?"
"I know the layout better than you." Crispin said, earning a nod from her. Two kids, an injured woman, and a huntress without her sword... He sighed, and dragged a hand down his face, feeling his strength lacking. He wouldn't have long to act without feeling the blood loss soon.
"That's all the time we can afford to waste. It's time to go... we're taking Trillia and the kids out of the camp, somewhere safe, and then you and I will come back after I get my stab wounds figured out. Does that sound fine to you?" Vivily gave him another confused look, but nodded, appreciating the newfound fearless leadership.
"That does not sound fine to me." Trillia said, about to continue beyond that, but Crispin held a hand up to silence her.
"Argue later. Move now."