They snuck downstairs, leaving the hatch propped open behind them as Ifan led the way.
At the foot of the stairs they paused, crouching low in the recess between the stairs, and he turned to them, pointing with a small gesture to a narrow alleyway opposite the central compund from them. In between was a long corridoor which opened onto to a wide deck with steps at the far end.
Upon the deck sat a lizard and a human in reclined positions next to a drudanae pipe, chatting languidly as they blew the occasional smoke ring.
Ifan knew them as Snakeroot and Honeyhook; they'd joined shortly before he'd set off on his journey, having been assigned to kill Alexander. Honeyhook in particular he found distinctly unthreatening, but he knew from personal experience that nobody tangled with the Wolves without getting scarred, at least in a manner of speaking.
Motioning for the two elves to stay put, Ifan crept around the corner and straightened his posture, attempting to affect a normal stance as he strode towards the Wolf-laden bridge. Raising his hand again as he came into view of them, he called out to them,
"Boss's told me to go fetch the other Godwoken I've been hunting; they're stashed nearby, I'll be back by sundown." Ifan tried to roar cheerily, striding towards them as his palms sweated and heart pounded. "And save some of the grog for my return, ya damn animals!"
Their hands were already going to their weapons.
The burly, foul-breathed man who'd escorted him earlier yelled back,
"Not so fast! We know all about you, Godwoken. Not happy to wipe out those filthy elves and be done with it, eh? Now you're bringing down Voidwoken and threatening us all." The dramatic irony was clearly the most delicious the fool had known in his miserable life, such was the excessive verbal emphasis given to his words.
'Pigsbane could have been planning this little speech for weeks,' thought Ifan wryly.
The assembled men drew their weapons, two of the men at ground level, swords held threateningly, began to advance, circling around to flank him.
Giving up all pretenses, he quickly muttered an incantation and hunched over, summoning Afrit, straightening to shout across the bridge to his hidden companions in a desperate bellow, "NOW!"
His soul wolf let out a haunting howl and leapt onto one of the sword-wielding men, aiming for his throat as Ifan spun, anticipating the lizards' silent attacks a second before he felt a dagger slice past his face, glancing off his armour with a 'ting'. He ducked behind a cart and pulled his crossbow to face front, snapped a bolt into place and aimed at the second sword-wielder. The shot glanced off the man's helmet and Ifan rolled out of the way and grabbed the shiv from his boot, as the other man lunged forward, thrusting for the weak point of armour at Ifan's armpit.
With a wild lunge, Ifan drove the shiv blindly upwards, hearing a scream as the man's hands reflexively dropped his sword, moving to the shiv embedded in his leg through his light leather breeches, the tip deep in his thigh. Seconds bought, Ifan scrambled around the side of the cart as the first arrows from the sentry-towers on the bridges whizzed past.
Knowing that it wasn't long until they notched their bows with more than just steel-tipped arrows, he took the chance to slot another bolt into his bow, moving backwards in a crouch. The man he'd stabbed was still on the ground around the side of the cart. Ifan moved in a flash, standing up, leaning back around the corner, and unloaded the bolt into the man's neck at close range before dodging back into obscurity in the shadow of the enourmous cart.
'Two down,' he thought, 'where are they?' he added of his companions, consternation rippling through him.
Poking his head around from his concealed position, he saw that the sentry guards were no longer firing at his position.
'Yes!' His heart felt like it would burst, pumping with adrenaline, pride and the hope of triumph.
Just then, he heard the sleepy-sounding tones of the drudanae-stoned duo, chatting in bored tones around the corner from him.
"I know, I'm so tired of these mongrels. Intruder, they said. Looked like a Lone Wolf to me, I told him, and besides, I took my shot when I had it, but he's most likely fled anyway."
"It's such a hassle isn't it? As if it's not enough for us to work the contracts, we've got to jump to their dirty work when we're off-duty too?"
A yell drifted from the bridge, sounding like someone either very angry or in a great deal of pain. Ifan didn't think it sounded like Fane, and it was certainly too low to be Lohse, so he stayed put, continuing to eavesdrop out of sight.
They didn't seem to be taking the shouting from the bridge seriously, ignoring it completely as they lightly complained about a variety of topics ranging from the poor quality of their food to the lack of local entertainment, as Ifan struggled to conceal both his position and his mirth. Notching another bolt to his bow, he gave a small shake of his head.
'They'll let anyone in these days!' he thought, a bitterly amused twist in his stomach.
They passed by his hiding spot without a glance while he pressed his body into the side of the cart which obscured him from their view, holding his breath as they came within a foot of him.
When they'd walked about six feet ahead of him, in about the same span of time that it takes to inhale and exhale a deep, calming breath, Ifan again leapt, crossbow aiming true, and felled the one he'd heard called Honeyhook.
'Let's see you "climb me like a tree" now,' he glowered with repugnance, as her blood began to seep from the hole in her neck. Belatedly turning to the sound of a body thudding to the ground, Snakeroot's stoned eyes realised, several seconds too late, what the situation she was in had become.
As Ifan fumbled a new bolt into his crossbow she reached for her wands at her belt, raising them and screaming out an incantaion as he took aim and pulled the trigger.
His body was seized by an electric current, and he felt his muscles spasm outwith his control. He could smell smoke, and feel the hot surge of energy burning his skin from the inside out, as if he'd been filled with fire ants. Ifan fell to the ground, twitching, his head abuzz with the fear that he'd choke on his own tongue before the Wolves could finish him off and he could at least die with honour. When the painful convulsions passed him, Ifan rolled over to see the dead lizard keeled over a few feet away, hands still holding her wands, lying face down, a puncture wound from her chest leaking her blood into the sawdust and sand underfoot.
The sounds from the bridge had increased, as had the volley of yelling which he'd heard.
Scanning to check for other Wolves around him, and seeing none, he stood up into full view, reorienting his gaze to the bridge. The ramparts around it were ablaze, though the bridge itself was still standing for now.
He saw one of the rangers, whom he'd know by the moniker 'Firewater' on account of his penchant for brewing lethal home-made grain spirit, fall from his sniper's nest wreathed in cursed flame, plummeting from the top of the burning wooden structure. The man screamed all the way down to the sharp-toothed ravine below.
Ifan stashed his bow, pulled the shiv from his roll-top boots and crept back to where Sebille and Saheila waited. He beckoned, making shushing motions at them, indicating for them to stay low and follow him.
Together, the three crept across the sawmill, throwing quick, guarded glances at the rising pillar of smoke from the bridge, not daring to stop. The crossed the main square without incident, heading right then turning left to venture up a small wooden snicket alongside the Wolves' quarters. It led them to a laddered deck behind the squat wooden building, which looked over the tranquil sea, and as they saw the sun refracting off of the waves, making them glitter with fragmented light, it seemed to the Godwoken that perhaps a benevolent force was looking down upon them.
Sensing freedom, Saheila smiled at them, her milky eyes gracious. "I go to my people now. Thank-you, Godwoken. May our paths cross again before long."
Sebille touched the smaller elf's arm, and gave her two small vials. "For emergencies, if any arise," she said.
Saheila took them and descended the ladder, crossing swiftly to the fallen tree which bridged the gap between the cliffs and the sea.
Just before the stepped onto it and out of their sight, she turned, waved, and then she was gone.
