Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem.

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Erk and Serra presented a problem to Mark. With their addition to the group, there weren't enough horses to carry them all. So they'd paired up as best as they could. Florina, Lyn and Serra were squeezed on Huey. Erk and Wil rode behind Sain, while Kent and Dorcas rode together with Mark holding on behind them for dear life.

"We really need another horse," he grumbled as they rode along. He could just about see past the mountain of muscle that was Dorcas. He whistled appreciatively as he saw Araphen's city walls rise out of the countryside before him.

As they approached the cities gates, Mark tapped Dorcas on the shoulder. "Dorcas, can you tell Lyn that I'll catch up with you at the castle."

Dorcas turned his head. "What? Why can't you tell her your…" Dorcas felt Mark release his grip on him. He watched as the tactician hit the ground rolling. "…self." Dorcas lost sight of Mark, as Kent rode through the city gates.

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"I'm sorry sir, but we don't stock that kind of thing," the shop assistant smiled weakly at Mark.

Mark sighed dejectedly. "And I'm guessing that none of the other armouries stock them either, correct?" He watched as the girl nodded again. "Alright, have you got binding for a sword hilt?"

"Oh, yes sir!" the attendant nodded enthusiastically. She led him along an isle to where binding of different lengths and widths hung.

Mark smiled darkly. "Perfect," he muttered to himself.

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The thief watched his target with interest. She was moving around the city with a small entourage. He counted two cavaliers, a pegasus knight, a fighter, an archer, a mage and a cleric. He committed these facts to memory, and moved closer to listen in on their conversations.

As he grew nearer, he was shocked as his cover suddenly disappeared. The crowd in which he had been 'mingling' dispersed as its members fled from the streets. "What the…!?" Then he noticed the smoke billowing from Araphen castle. "Interesting," he commented to no one in particular.

"It is, isn't it?" a voice said from behind him.

The thief spun quickly and met the oncoming fist, jaw first. He slumped to the floor unconscious.

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The man had sandy coloured hair and was wearing a red cloak over a light green tunic. Mark had been trailing him for the last ten minutes. He should have been spotted within a minute or so, but his prey was focused solely on Lyn and the rest of the group.

The smoke rising from Araphen Castle caught the tactician's eye. As he stood watching it the crowd he was standing in vanished. As he walked over to the stalker he heard him mutter; "Interesting."

"It is, isn't it?" he replied. His fist lashed out, connecting with the man's jaw as he spun round, knocking him out.

Mark rubbed his knuckles thoughtfully as he looked down at the thief/spy/assassin, whatever he was. "I suppose he could be useful." He picked up his victim and started to walk over to where Lyn was. Mark was so wrapped up in his own thoughts, that he failed to notice an assassin get shot in the back before he could attack Lyn.

Mark strolled into the centre of the Legion and unceremoniously dropped the thief. "You know him?" he asked Serra, upon hearing her gasp.

"Umm…yes. He's called Ma…Matthew." For once Serra didn't sound so sure of herself.

Mark decided not to press Serra on why this was. He'd find out when Matthew woke up. "Old flame is he?" he inquired to change the cleric's mood.

"What!" Serra was outraged. "A noble woman such as myself being seen with a street urchin like him." She appeared to be trembling with rage and indignation. "Only in his dreams!"

Erk sidled over to Mark. "Why did you have to ask that?" he hissed through the corner of his mouth. "She'll go on about this for hours."

"I wouldn't want to be in her good books." Mark smirked. "Look what it's done to your nerves. Is that a twitch I see?"

Before Erk could answer Lyn ran up to them. "Mark where were you?" she demanded.

"Getting supplies," the tactician replied nonchalantly. "Now what's the situation and what need's doing?"

Lyn shot him a quick glare before continuing. "The castle is under attack and the Marquess has been taken hostage. Rath here…" she nodded towards a Sacaen nomad who rode up behind her. "…has told us about a secret passage in the barracks to the north, leading to the throne room.

Rath chose to speak at that moment. "We need to release three triggers to open the passage way. One is in the guardhouse to the south of here. The other two are in the barracks itself. However they are both locked."

"And we have no keys to open them with," Lyn added. "Maybe the marauders are carrying them."

Mark grinned as he looked around at the surroundings. Near the guard house Rath spoke of were three mercenaries. The path leading towards the barracks was seemingly clear. "The keys shouldn't be a problem." He pointed towards the unconscious thief. "I found him trailing you. When he wakes up I'm sure you can convince him to open some doors for you."

He looked at the Legion. "Serra, Kent, Wil and Erk. You four come with me." He turned to the nomad. "Rath if you'd be so kind as to accompany us. Then you can show us what the triggers look like. Lyn take the others and wake up Matthew." He saw the confused look on the Sacaen's face. "It's the thief's name. Anyway when we're done at the guard house we'll come and help."

Lyn nodded and set off with Sain and Florina. Dorcas scooped up Matthew and followed after them.

Mark turned to his force. "Come on people let's move!" he shouted before running off towards the mercenaries. He watched with satisfaction as the two of the mercenaries fell to Kent's lance and Erk's fireballs. Turning to face the remaining man, Mark saw the enemy lift his hand to his mouth. "Stop him now!" he screamed.

The mercenary swallowed just before an arrow pierced his throat and another stuck into his chest. His body hit the floor with a thump.

Mark walked over to the body and opened its mouth. Seeing that it was empty, Mark cursed. He searched the corpse and only found a boot knife. Calmly Mark lifted the corpses shirt and made a several neat incisions in its midriff. After peeling back the skin and cutting through the muscle he flipped out the stomach before slicing it open. An acidic mulch sloshed out, but nothing else.

The others had watched this in horror. "Eww, gross!" Serra commented.

"Mark…why did you do that?" Kent asked. His voice was shaky as if he was about to throw up.

"When we approached him he swallowed something, instead of drawing his sword. It must have been something pretty important. If Lyn's right about them carrying keys, which she probably is…well I'll give you three guesses at what he swallowed" He turned back to the body. "Alright this is going to get a lot more messy. Everyone except Erk, go and help Lyn."

As everyone trouped off Erk stood there. "Mark, why do I have to stay?"

"Okay, when I said messy, that was an understatement. I'll need you to incinerate the leftovers. Now I'd turn away if I were you."

Erk did so without any more prompting. He stood there for several minutes trying to ignore the smell of blood and acid. His stomach was churning at an incredible rate.

"Great, just great. I'll have to break his ribs to get at it," Mark grumbled behind him.

The wet cracking sounds were too much for Erk. He fell to his knees and began to bring up his lunch.

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Lyn watched as Dorcas dropped Matthew in a water trough. She laughed as the thief spluttered and floundered in the water. "Dorcas, that's cruel," she giggled.

"He was spying on us Lyn." A smile slowly slid across Dorcas's face. "I think that's punishment enough," he said before hauling the drenched thief out of the trough.

Matthew looked at the people surrounding him. It was half of the group he'd been trailing. "What hit me?" he asked.

"Our tactician," Lyn answered bluntly. "Why were you spying on us?" Her voice was now a threatening growl.

Matthew smirked. "Well whoever your tactician is they've got one impressive punch, I'll give them that. In answer to your question well…it's not everyday you see a Sacaen travelling round with Lycian knights, now is it?"

"It's a fair point Milady," Sain conceded begrudgingly.

Lyn nodded. "Well Matthew, we've decided you're going to help us. Or…or…" Lyn faltered.

Matthew grinned as he stood up. "Well it seems you can't think of a threat, so I'll be on my way. It was a pleasure meeting you."

Dorcas blocked the thief's path. The axeman smiled at Matthew. "Or," he continued, smiling. "We'll set Serra on you. She's travelling with us."

Matthew's grin vanished. "Sweet Elimine!" he cried. "Alright, what do you want me to do?" he asked, now a broken man.

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"So Erk, how long have you been a mercenary?" Mark called over his shoulder. He'd removed one of the corpses lungs, allowing him access to the gullet.

"Not long, this is just part of my training. After I've escorted that pink haired demon to Ostia, I'm free to return home." Erk was grateful for the conversation. It took his mind off what was going on behind him. "So, how long have you been a tactician?"

"Too long," Mark's tone was dark. "Shit, this things tough," he muttered. He looked over his shoulder. "No! Erk, don't turn around. Got it!" he cried triumphantly as he removed a key from the bloody mass he was crouching by.

Mark stood and walked over to a nearby water trough. He thoroughly washed the gore off his arms and the key. "Erk turn around, but keep your eyes closed. You don't want to see what you're doing, trust me. Just aim for the stench," he instructed the young mage.

Luckily Erk knew the fire incantation off by heart. He blindly aimed at the foul smell and launched several fireballs towards it.

Mark watched dispassionately as the remains of the dead mercenary were turned into ash. "Right, lets open that door."

"And hope no one else swallows anything," Erk replied dryly, as they set off.

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Sain nodded as the door to the barracks swung open. He had to admit that the thief was good. Tightening his grip on his horse's reigns he urged his steed forwards into a gallop. As he rode through the barracks, the mercenaries waiting there turned to watch him. He turned the horse round and raised his lance. "Come you curs. Today you shall fall to the Green Lance of Caelin.

He watched as the Lyn and Matthew crept through the door closely followed by the rest of the Legion. The mercenaries never knew what hit them, as they were cut down from behind.

"That worked better than I thought it would," Lyn declared. She sighed, as Matthew ran over to a chest.

"Treasure time," he said happily to himself, before he set to work on picking the chests lock. After a few moments it opened with a click, revealing an angelic robe inside.

Serra rushed over and grabbed Matthew's find. "Don't you think this suits me Lyn?" she asked, as she held the robe against her body. She eluded Matthew's grasp and hit him in the chest with her staff.

""Why do…you get it? I…found that," Matthew wheezed in protest.

"Yes and you naturally gave it to your superior, as a tribute to her dazzling beauty." Serra answered glibly.

Lyn just shook her head and walked further into the barracks in search of the triggers. As she turned a corner she spotted another chest. "Matthew! There's another chest round here!" she called, already getting used to the thief's company.

After what seemed an eternity of searching rooms, and turning corners, Lyn stepped through a door, bringing her face to face with a brigand. She dodged to the side of the wild axe swing and drew the Mani Katti. The blades bright glow temporarily blinded the brigand in the dim light. Lyn saw her chance and thrust her sword through the man's neck.

The brigand fell over backwards onto a raised tile. Lyn herd a grinding sound as the tile sank into the floor. There came a distant rumbling sound from the way she had come. Lyn turned on her heels and ran back down the passage. "Well now we know what the triggers look like."

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As Mark and Erk walked up to the barrack's entrance they heard the sounds of fighting coming from inside. Hurrying their pace they skidded through the doorway. Before them the legion were fighting against a knight and two archers.

The knight was holding off Kent, Sain and Dorcas, while the archers were sheltered behind him taking occasional pot-shots. Wil and Rath's arrows were bouncing off the knight's armour ineffectually.

Mark turned to Erk. "Do you think a fireball or two would even the odds a little bit?"

The mage nodded and took out his fire tome. As he began to chant a glowing rune appeared in his hand.

Mark kept his eyes on the archers, as they seemed to have noticed Erk. He drew his daggers as they notched arrows and let them fly. He stepped in front of Erk and somehow managed to deflect one of the arrows. The other lodged in his shoulder and spun him to the ground, just before Erk sent two fireballs screaming at the knight.

They hit the heavy armour and burnt their way through to his flesh. The knight dropped to his knee's screaming in agony. His screaming was cut of abruptly as Matthew entered the fray carrying an armorslayer in his hands. He deftly brought the weapon down on the knight's head cleaving helm and skull alike.

Kent and Sain charged forward on their horses and finished off the two archers.

Mark sat up, and winced as his felt the arrow in his shoulder. It felt like it had lodged just under the collarbone. He quickly yanked it out with a grunt, and threw the bloody arrow to the floor. Rolling his shoulder painfully, he decided that it wasn't too bad and could wait until later. He'd just have to use his right arm more in a fight. Looking around, he saw that Dorcas was nearest to the remaining trigger. "Hey Dorcas! Stand on that raised tile until it sinks into the ground!" the tactician called out.

The fighter did so and with a loud grinding sound a large portion of wall slid into the floor. Rath rode up to the tunnels entrance and nodded his thanks to the tactician. He muttered something to his horse and they both vanished into the tunnel.

Pressing his hand against his shoulder to stem the flow of blood, Mark stood up and when no one was looking his way, followed the nomad. As he walked down the subterranean passage he rummaged in his pack and found an old vulnery. Pulling the cork out with his teeth, he proceeded to pour the runny salve over his shoulder.

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Lyn cursed her luck as she attempted to retrace her steps for the fourth time. These barracks might as well have been a labyrinth. She paused as she heard the sound of talking. Drawing her sword as a precaution she followed the sound to its source.

As she turned the finally corner, Lyn saw Kent talking to Dorcas. Sighing in relief she ran up to them. "Sorry, I got lost," the Sacaen admitted shamefully. She spotted the tunnel that hadn't been there when she left. "It looks like we succeeded."

Kent didn't look too happy though. "Yes Milady, we did. Although…" he paused unsure how to brake the news to her.

At this moment Dorcas took up the thread. "Regrettably, Mark was wounded in the fight."

All the colour drained from Lyn's face. "What! Is he alright!" she demanded.

"We don't know. He's disappeared again." Dorcas looked at the floor. He'd lost their tactician twice in one day now. He just hoped it didn't turn into a bad habit.

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"Rath! How can you speak to me like that?" Marquess Araphen demanded. "I have treated you well, have I not? I have paid you well. I have treated you better than your kind deserves."

Rath just shook his head. "You will never understand. My service ends here." With that the Sacaen turned and strode out of the throne room.

Once the door had closed a figure stepped out from behind the pillar to confront Marquess Araphen. "So how do you feel about people from the Western Isles?" He smiled inwardly at the Marquess' panicked face. "Relax. No harm will come to you if you answer the question honestly." As an after thought he tried to wipe the blood and soot from his face. He only succeeded only in smearing it.

"Tho…those barbarians are worse than the Sacaen savages," Marquess Araphen growled. He was becoming angrier by the second, as this man treated him like a commoner.

The man nodded thoughtfully. "Do not speak foul of people better than you, fool." He ignored the outraged calling for guards, as he cleaned one of his daggers on a nearby tapestry. "Fool indeed," he muttered to himself. What's the point of calling for guards when the last surviving one just quit? He sheathed his dagger and proceeded to clean the other one.

When his task was done the cloaked figure walked to the door of the throne room, ignoring the shouting behind him. As he opened the door he felt a hand grasp his shoulder and spin him round. He raised his fist and used the force of the spin to send his aggressor sprawling to the floor. "One last thing Marquess." Mark let venom drip from his every word. "If I ever hear you referring to a Sacaen in such a way again, and I'll know if you do…Then I swear I will kill you."

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Mark found the Legion's camp a mile south of Araphen's gates. The sun had set an hour ago, making him almost invisible as the green of his cloak blended in with the surrounding countryside. When he was satisfied that they hadn't set a watch, he entered the camp.

He smirked when he realised that he had been wrong. Lyn or Kent (most probably Kent,) had set Erk the task of keeping watch. Mark patted the slumbering boys head as he passed him. Setting himself down by the campfire, the tactician retrieved his latest acquisitions, drew his daggers and set to work.

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That's the end of the overhauled chapters. Everything after this will actually be new.

Until then,
Spingleburt.