"Is the mage in position?"
"Yes, sir. He has already begun."
"Very good." The man, shrouded in an oily black cloak, paused as he peered through a telescope at the tower. Perched on the ledge of the large windows that flanked the balcony doors, the only sign that the man was there was the subtle shift at random intervals of the mage weaving his craft. It was if the shadow was moving. He let a small smile rest on his lips. An apt analogy for my men and I.
"Shall I prepare the others?" The second man stepped out of the shadows, revealing armor shrouded by a flowing black cape that looked sleek and blended perfectly with the darkness in the mixed light. While the snow had proved problematic to their movements at first, they had stuck to the shadows and had thus far avoided the attention.
"No, hold off for now." He shook his head, the black wrappings that concealed his face rustled in the silence of the night. "The defector said the Prince would be alone tonight." He turned and watched as the snow fell around them, settling on the shoulders of his subordinate.
"And you trust him?" The other man said with a low voice that wouldn't carry on the wind. There was a mix of hesitation and menace in his voice, but it was not threatening so much as just a desire to complete the mission cleanly.
"Not in the slightest." The first man said with a snort. "But with the increase in guard, one of our men may have been spotted. I fear we may be getting played, but getting the images planted in the prince's mind is one of our primary objectives." He grinned, but no one could see it beneath the shroud he wore over his face. "Why waste a golden opportunity."
"Of course, sir." The seconds said with a trace of hesitation in his voice.
The first dismissed his subordinate's unease as the inexperience of youth. He raised the telescope to his eye again and he felt a solid lump of ice settle in his stomach. "Sergeant... who is that?" He handed the junior noncommisioned officer his telescope and waited, closing his eyes for a few moments, praying he had just imagined something. He ran his thumb and index finger over his eyes. "Please tell me that's one of ours."
"It's not, sir." The sergeant shook his head as he watched the shrouded green and gray cloak clambered up the wall, heading for the balcony. "I don't recognize that pattern. It's definitely not one of ours."
"Shit." The commander growled. "Have the marksman move into position."
"Sir?" The sergeant said with a frown. "I thought we weren't supposed to kill the prince..."
"Not him, idiot." The officer snarled. He took a moment to control his temper and lower his voice again. "You know the directive. No survivors. No signs we were here. Nothing." The commander growled, shaking his head. One death will be well worth the price of maintaining the security of the mission.
"Sir?" The sergeant repeated, his voice now much fainter.
"You have you orders." The commander growled, turning with a swish of his cloak as he turned away.
"No, sir, you're going to want to see this." The sergeant said, extending the telescope back to its owner.
"What are you..." He turned, raising the telescope to his eye, following the sergeant's gesture up the tower. "What in the... oh shit." He watched as a another cloaked figure descended down towards the balcony, dangling from a rope and walking his way down the side of the tower.
"What do we do sir?" The sergeant said with a frown. "The mage is screwed."
"Its probably Demacian special forces." The commander hissed. "Fuck. Get the damned marksman into position. I don't want anything at all recoverable from that idiot's corpse." He spun on his heal, waving his men back. The shadows swirled for a moment, and then watched at six shadows descended, rising up to form the shapes of men. "Withdraw for now. We will meet in two days time. Dismissed." The shadowy shapes, each clad in an oily black cloak, bowed their collective heads and then vanished into the night.
"The marksman reports he is two minutes from firing position." The sergeant cupped his hand over his ear, listening to a small, fluttering creature that looked similar to a moth. It glowed a soft green that illuminated his hands in the dark, snowy night.
"Tell him he is free to fire on anyone he can get a clear line of sight on." The commander growled. "Make sure he is able to get out safely as well."
"Anyone, sir?" The sergeant said, hesitation marring his voice.
"Anyone other than the prince." The commander growled. I want to go blow for blow. One for one, motherfucker.
"Sir." The sergeant said, nodding his head. "It will be done."
"Good." The commander turned his telescope to the mage who was so busy weaving his dream-craft spell he had completely lost track of his position and surroundings. Trapped like a rat. The commander sneered and he turned away with the swish of his cloak. What a twit.
A sharp report came on the door three times, and then there was silence. Delancey paused and glanced at the guard standing next to the doorway to the Prince's bedroom, and waited until the guard nodded that he was ready, stepping to the side and bringing his weapon to a ready position. She took a deep breath and paused a brief moment, listening for anything malicious, be it the sound of crinkling armor, dripping blood, the moan of injured soldiers.
"Ready, sarge." The soldier said, a hardened look upon as his face as he raised his lance over his head for a vicious sideways sweep if need be. Delancey unlocked the door and pulled it open a crack. She saw a sliver of a Demacian Uniform.
"Who goes there?" Delancey said menacingly, her hand resting on her sword.
"Lieutenant Proudmast Vorscham and Gunnery Sergeant Alicia Juniper, reporting as ordered." The man said firmly. He produced a pair of military ID books and poked them through the crack in the door. Delancey pushed the door closed and opened the first booklet. She matched the serial number in the book to the one she had scribbled down on a piece of paper and then compared the second to another number. Satisfied, she sighed and opened the door to look at the man and the woman who were waiting outside. She glanced at the pictures, made sure they were correct, and then ushered them both inside.
"Sorry for the wait." Delancey said, waving them inside. "Please come in."
"Greeting, sergeant." Vorscham said, with just a bit of grit in his voice. Brown hair spilled down around his face, and though Delancey could see a scar creeping up from one side of his face, she merely glanced at the picture again, checking the lines briefly before nodding. Vorscham growled, squinting his eyes as he glanced around the room, pausing a bit to stare up at the soldier who stood just inside the door, his weapon raised. He grunted but limped past, heading for the couch that faced the fireplace. He lowered himself down, sitting silently.
"Hiya, Del." Alicia said with a smile, though it faded slightly when Delancey didn't respond in kind. Delancey simply glanced at the photograph, matching the slight striations along her neck to the ones in the picture before she sighed a breath of relief. "What's going on? We passed some really heavy security coming in and we weren't exactly made privy to any new developments."
"Gimme a moment, June." Delancey said, shaking her head. She stepped to the door and looked out along the hall and then to the guards on both sides of the door. Both soldiers stood as still as stone, but their eyes danced back and forth, left and right at quick intervals. Good. "Stay on guard. Challenge anyone who approaches."
"Yes, ma'am." One soldier growled before he returned to his stoney silence.
She shut the door and locked it, then waved the corporal who had been standing guard down. He lowered his lance then fell in at parade rest, his eyes watching the two newcomers warily. Delancey moved towards the fire as Alicia lowered herself into one of the chairs, watching as Delancey approached, her hand still hovering on the hilt of her sword. "Apologies for the formalities." Delancey said as she handed the two their identification papers back.
"This is kinda creeping me out." Alicia murmured, running her arms over the little bit of fabric that was exposed on her upper arm. "I haven't seen the palace on guard like this in ages."
"Apologies for the late summons as well, but the prince has run into some... trouble." Delancey said with a frown.
"Don't tell me he got sentenced to house arrest again." Vorscham mumbled, rolling his eyes.
"Did something happen to Shyvana?" Alicia said more urgently, ignoring the lieutenant's quip. "She was supposed to return to the barracks this evening."
"Shyvana is involved with this too, unfortunately." Delancey said, shrugging. "I'm not exactly sure what is going on, but from what I can tell, someone, or rather, some persons, have begun tailing the prince. Shyvana was faint this evening after eating something and the prince rushed her here to avoid complications with going to the infirmary of the hospital. He seems legitimately worried about the tail though, and he called for a lock down of the entire palace. He beefed up the guard, ordered regular patrols, as well as armed guards posted at essential posts around the grounds."
Something dangerous sparkled in Alicia's red eyes. "Is Shyvana alright?" Alicia said, a worried look crossing her face.
"As I understand it, I believe she will be." Delancey shrugged weakly. "She appears to be sleeping off some sort of adverse reaction to something that may have been secreted into our drinks when we were visiting the Bandle City Ambassador."
"You would suggest subversion from Bandle City?" Vorscham said, raising an eyebrow. "Bold claims, sergeant."
"I don't believe it was by the ambassador's doing, but Shyvana seemed to react to the cocoa she consumed." Delancey shrugged again. "If someone found out some sort of chemical or poison that effects her specifically then there may be a delay reaction or something of the sort. I believe the prince is merely worried about the possibility."
"Uh..." Alicia said sheepishly, scratching at her cheek. "Well, I don't know if it was poison."
"You've seen here react to cocoa before?" Delancey said, surprised.
"Well, it was chocolate cake." Alicia said shrugging. "Extremely rich, dark chocolate cake to be specific. From the bakery on Merchant's row and the intersection with High street? You know the-..."
Vorscham cleared his throat.
"R-right!" Alicia said, shaking her head. "Anyways, I think the chocolate serves as an extremely potent aphrodisiac for Shyvana." She paused frowning, a bit of color tinging her cheeks pink. "Dark chocolate gets the most enthusiastic result from what I can gather, though other chocolates have a similar effect, though much more mild."
"And you've tested this?" Delancey said, trying to hide her amusement. Alicia blushed a slightly deeper shade of pink.
"Not extensively." She tried to hide her pixie grin. "It was unintentional the first time. I thought it might be useful to know more about it so I gave her some chocolates to test her reaction to milk chocolate. It makes her warm and blush-y and relaxed a bit." She shrugged. "But I don't think it will hurt her even in large amounts."
"I see." Delancey said, chuckling slightly. "Well, I suppose that explains that." She glanced at the door and then ran a hand over her face. "And to think I left them alone like that."
"The prince would never take advantage of Shyvana in a state like that." Vorscham said firmly. "Well, I don't think he would." Vorscham's confidence faded a bit but he sighed and shrugged.
"You seem familiar with the prince." Delancey said, crossing her arms over her chest. Vorscham opened his mouth for a moment and then closed it rapidly, his lips forming a thin line. Delancey had seen a window of vulnerability open and then slam shut immediately again.
"Once upon a time, maybe." Vorscham growled.
"It might help to actually tell someone, Proudmast." Alicia said, frowning.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" Vorscham muttered, running a hand over his face. He pushed his hair up over his head, giving Delancey a startling view of the terrifying scar that ran over the entire side of his face, his right ear barely more than a hole in the side of his head. His golden eyes were mere slits as he glared at the gunnery sergeant. Alicia fit him with an angry glare and while he matched her for a few moments he final dropped his gave with a glower. "Fine."
"Should I go fetch Jarvan and Shyvana then?" Delancey said with a frown.
"No." Vorscham said, shaking his head. "Jarvan already knows the story. As for Shyvana... this isn't a story she needs to hear. Not yet at least." He snorted. "I don't need her pity, and she doesn't need to be pitying me either."
"You make it sound like she would care." Delancey said, frowning as she leaned back, tucking her chin into her collar. "As far as I had heard, there wasn't much love between the two of you."
"Shyvana may appear dangerous and a bit of a savage to those who choose to see her like that, but that's mostly the surface. She chooses to be cold and outwardly withdrawn." Alicia said, crossing her arms over her chest and fitting Delancey with a glare and then creasing her brow. Delancey glanced at her lap sheepishly, but Alicia finally sighed and shook her head. "I assume you've seen it yourself: She's akin to a little girl."
Vorscham snorted. "Yeah, a little girl who can turn into a massive, fire breathing dragon."
"I'm trying to make a point here." Alicia said, turning her glare onto Vorscham. He rolled his eyes and sat back, but shut his mouth and frowned. "I read the reports, I did my research and I've heard the rumors. Shyvana was hounded from birth to the point where she and Jarvan actually slew the dragon who killed her father. She never had a childhood, she barely had a chance to experience the things we take for granted." She shook her head. "She actually told me that the first time she ever actually had a cookie... was when Jarvan bought her one when they were in a village."
"That was barely a matter of months ago." Delancey said with a frown, putting the numbers together. "You mean to tell me..."
"Exactly." Alicia said with grave nod of her head. "I say she acts like a child, partially because she never got to be a child." She shook her head. "It's sad, but at the same time, I've made it my goal to make sure she enjoys her time her and doesn't come to hate Demacia." Her glare turned icy as she turned to stare at Vorscham. "Unlike some people."
"If I wasn't so hard on her, I don't think she would turn out any better if she were given free reign to do as she pleases." Vorscham growled, leaning forward, running his hands over his face. "I've watched you and her together, and her curiosity and fascination with the city and the new experiences you've been subjecting her to are enough to keep her reigned in." He stared at the floor, exhaustion creeping into the corners of his eyes and mouth, exaggerating the wrinkles that were just starting to form. "On the field of battle, or in the ring, as close as we can get it, she is nothing short of a demon."
"A demon?" Delancey said quietly, her eyes growing slightly larger in surprise.
"A demon, a goddess, whatever you want to call it, she is decidedly inhuman." Vorscham said shaking his head again as he sunk back in the chair and looked to the ceiling. "She's incredibly smart and incredibly quick on the uptake. She learns at a rate that makes even the best and brightest the Demacian Military could field look like mere children. Her strength is terrifying and her speed is blindingly fast." He grunted something between a snort and a nod of approval. "I saw her get pinned down by the two largest men in our unit as a part of a hold-breaking exercise. She tossed them aside like rag dolls..." He shivered.
"What?" Alicia said, now frowning.
"I know that you and the prince have ever confidence in her, but I'm not so sure sometimes." Vorscham shook his head. "She may act like a little girl and look like a regular young woman, but beneath that facade there is a wild beast itching to get free." He paused, letting a thousand yard stare settle on his face. "I've seen it come close to the surface. When she gets pressured or she feels threatened, her instincts starts to surface. She fights meaner, she hits harder, she reacts quicker." He shook his head. "And there are physical changes too."
"Physical?" Delancey said, raising her eyebrow. "What, does she start to change into the dragon? Cause that's hardly secret anymore." Delancey brushed hair from her eyes, tucking a stray blue stand of hair behind her ear. "I heard the rumors about what she did in front of the delegation from Ionia and Piltover."
Vorscham snorted and chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, if I hadn't been so stunned I would have dressed her down right there, in front of the king, ambassadors and everyone." There was a glimmer in his eyes and the barest of smiles tugged at the corner of his mouth. "The king was speechless and the ambassadors had been dazzled senseless. It wasn't exactly what the Major had been intending when the order had come down the pipe, but it worked wonders." He shook his head and sighed.
"You seem to be developing a soft spot, Proudmast." Alicia said with an victorious smirk.
"Maybe." He said with a shrug. "However, if you see fit to tell her that, I will see fit to reach up your ass and rip your tongue out of your head." Delancey burst into laughter when Alicia blushed and glanced away.
"You know, I never pictured you to be someone into the kinky things like that, June." Delancey said, grinning deviously. Alicia glared at her and sighed.
"Oh shut your trap, Del." Alicia said, crossing her arms over her chest and sitting back, ignoring them both. "You said there were visual changes with Shyvana?" Alicia frowned. "I haven't seen any of them."
"Well, aside from the giant fire-breathing dragon thing, she undergoes subtle changes when she begins to get angry." He paused. "I suppose angry isn't the best term. Furious is probably a better way of putting it. If she's cornered, and she's both angry and afraid, she begins to turn blue. Not all over... just here and there. Particular around the eyes." He ran his fingers across his cheekbones to gesture where. "It almost looks like scales begin to show through her skin too..." He shivered. "And golden eyes."
"That hardly seems menacing, Proudmast." Alicia said with a frown. "If golden eyes terrified me, I would have put in for a transfer a long time ago." Delancey chuckled and Alicia snickered but the somber glare from Vorscham silenced them both.
"Not golden in color like mine." Vorscham shook his head. "They shimmer and glow like molten gold, and they look straight at you like you're not a person, but meat. Cattle for the slaughter."
"You don't think she would ever attack someone, do you?" Delancey said hesitantly, glancing at the door.
"I don't know." Vorscham growled, sitting back and tucking his chin into his chest as he stared at the fire. "I would like to think she wouldn't, but I can't even begin to guarantee that. We're lucky though, I've been skirting pushing her far enough to reveal it but,I've only seen glimpses, and as much as my curiosity wants to see what would happen... I fear for the lives of those who anger her."
"Should I be as worried as I am about the young woman who's alone with my charge?" Delancey said frowning. "I mean she seemed stable enough today."
"She'll be fine with Jarvan." Vorscham said, shaking his head. "Unless someone managed to hurt Jarvan, I don't think we'll have an issue."
"Speaking of Jarvan," Alicia said. "Don't think we've forgotten about your story." Alicia crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, but Vorscham didn't wither, he merely looked perturbed.
"Another time, perhaps." Vorshcam said, settling into the chair. He let his head fall back and he closed his eyes, letting them rest. "That is a tale that need not be rehashed right now." He took a deep breath, held it for a few moments, then exhaled slowly. "Maybe at some point someone will actually need to hear it. Maybe then."
"Proudmast..." Alicia said softly.
"I thought I told you not to call me that?" He opened one eye and watched her for a moment as a myriad of emotions played over her face. "You might a well get some rest. Who knows when we're actually going to be needed." He settled deeper into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and kicking his legs out, crossing one over the other. He tucked his chin into his chest and then was silent.
"And he's out like a light." Alicia said, shaking her head. "Sorry about him. He's a bit grumpy from getting up in the middle of the night."
"I expect most of the guards are." Delancey said, shaking her head. "I can only hope that something turns up and people don't blame Jarvan for it."
"His hunches are usually correct." Vorscham grunted.
"I thought you were asleep." Alicia said, sticking her tongue out at the Lieutenant. He snorted and then pushed himself a bit deeper in the chair. Alicia waited a minute and then shook her head. "He does that sometimes."
"So what do we do now, just wait?" Delancey said, pulling herself to her feet and beginning to pace along in front of the fire.
"I mean, how long have you been waiting already?" Alicia asked.
Delancey looked at the clock and then shrugged. "Close to about three hours since we returned to the castle."
Alicia sighed, glancing at Vorscham. "Well I suppose we can alway-..." The sound of breaking glass echoed from within the Prince's bedroom.
"Move!" Vorscham bellowed as he sent the chair crashing to its side. He vaulted the table that sat between him and the doorway, sending a bowl of fruit crashing to the ground. He hit the deck, rolled and took two massive steps, bowling into the door full force. He crashed through and landed on his stomach, his lance in his right hand, a small buckler in his left.
Three people sat sprawled across the stone floor, one recovering quickly and the other two sitting dazed, holding their heads. One of the dazed men glanced in Vorscham's direction and then clambered to his feet. He began to bolt for the doorway of the balcony, but Delancey had cleared the wreckage of Vorscham's entry, and had a pair of throwing knives in hand. She snapped her arm back and let the first fly, snarling when it glanced off the intruder's armored boot. She let the second fly and grinned when it imbedded deep in the intruder's leg just above the armor and sent him crashing to the ground with a yelp of surprise and pain.
"Got it!" She whooped a cry of victory.
"Get down!" One of the infiltrators screamed, urgency cutting through her voice as she rolled to her feet and started running towards Jarvan. Delancey spun as she drew her sword, the metal blade ringing as it ran along the mouth of her sheath. Delancey slammed the butt of her sword into the woman's gut as she tried to dodge it, crashing to the ground and rolling till she ended up face down next to the wall. She pushed herself up, but her arms were weak, leaving her retching.
"You're a fool." Delancey growled, drawing a knife from her belt and twirling the blade through the air, snapping her arm back and then letting the blade fly. The infiltrator tossed herself to the side, the blade passing through her cloak, hitting the ground with a series of ringing clanks as it pirouetted through the air and skittered to a stop on the stone.
"Enough!" Shyvana roared, flames rippling off of her body in sheet, the entire room around her freezing. She snarled and raised her hands before her, watching as her hands elongated and became vicious claws. She hunched her back and grabbed at her head, snarling and roaring in anger. She snarled as horns burst from her skull, slowly extending, arching back and up to a razor sharp point.
"Shyvana!" The small infiltrator gasped, a hand held to her stomach, her eyes turning to the open window. Shyvana's head snapped up, draconian slits for eyes glimmering and fierce gold, flames still rolling off of her body, swirling around her. She froze, the soft crackle of her flames dancing around her getting drowned out by a whistling sound. Jarvan grabbed her shoulders and tossed her aside, his body sinking slightly backwards. Shyvana shook her head and looked up, shaking away the draconian traits, blinking a few times and holding her head, hissing in pain as the horns retracted.
"Jarvan?" She shook her head and pushed her self up to her knees, glancing at Jarvan. "Jarvan?" He took two steps towards Shyvana and then staggered backwards a final step and crashed to the ground. Shyvana blinked a few times and then glanced down at Jarvan, slowly reaching out as the prince lay on the ground, a crossbow bolt sticking out of his shoulder. He was gasping for breath and clawing at his chest, the crossbow bolt shrouded in a sticky blue liquid, a dark, shadowy mist rolling off of it like evil manifested. "Jarvan... Jarvan!" Shyvana shouted, dropping to her knees.
"Sniper!" Delancey shouted, rolling away from the windows, pushing her back to the wall.
"June, cover the prince!" Vorscham snarled and she pushed himself up and hobbled forward with his lance raised up. "Stay away from the windows!" He raised it up to swing down at the infiltrator who had shouted as they began to pick themselves up, but golden eyes glared at him frown behind the scarf and cloak, stopping him in his tracks. The infiltrator leaped at him, landing on his chest and then kicking off, sending him tumbling to the ground, sprawled backwards. Another crossbow bolt whistled through, hitting the stone with a crack and a shower of sparks, slicing through the air where he had just been standing.
What? Vorscham slid behind one of the columns that stood between the window and the doors. She saved me? The whistle of an incoming bolt cut through the silence. "Incoming!"
June held her sword between the infiltrators and Jarvan and Shyvana as she slid between then and settled into a fighting stance. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and felt her hair behind the waver in the still air. Vorscham could feel the heat on his face as the bolt exploded and spread fire across the room. Vorscham shielded his face and watched the the bolt expand and envelope Jarvan, Shyvana and Alicia in a rolling ball of fire.
"How the fuck?" He stammered, watching as the flames burned brightly. "What the FUCK was that?"
"Explosive fire bolt!" One of the infiltrators shouted.
Vorscham blinked a few times, looking at the masked intruder with surprise, his mouth hanging open. "Wha..."
"Look!" Delancey pointed at the ball of fire as the flames started to die. Blue light glowed underneath as the fire receded, the shimmering image of Alicia standing defiant over top of Shyvana and Jarvan behind the blue barrier. as the blade she held was bathed in a brilliant blue light. A glowing blue shield dropped down over the three of them, leaving Vorscham and Delancey outside with the other two. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes glowing with the same blue light that formed the shield.
"You okay, Jarvan?" She said, her voice strained with the effort of maintaining the shield.
"Startled, but alright." Jarvan groaned, running a hand over his sweat covered face. Shyvana helped him up and pulled him into a sitting position next to the bed, looking at the shoulder. "Damn it that hurts..." he muttered.
"What the heck happened?" Alicia said, glancing down at the wound and grimacing.
"Jarvan was having a nightmare or something." Shyvana said shaking her head. "I woke him up, but almost immediately after, these three crashed in through the window." She looked angry, but there was a certain amount of worry in her eyes as she glanced down at Jarvan. "That looks bad..." She said, her hand hovering near the black-blue bolt, afraid to touch. No blood poured from the wound though, and Jarvan, while pale for the shock didn't seem to be in too much pain.
"I'm fine." Jarvan grunted, wincing as she tried to sit up.
"Careful..." Shyvana said softly, helping him up. He grunted again, his breaths quickening, watching Vorscham and Delancey with a frown.
Delancey hauled Vorscham to his feet and looked out over the three infiltrators. One stood close to the wall, his dark cloak shimmering and melding with the shadows as he wavered close to the wall. The other two were split up, the one who had vaulted off Vorscham's chest stood crouched in the corner, the gentle curves under her tunic displaying a feminine figure. She held her crossbow pointed in the direction of the black-clad infiltrator, but her eyes wavered on the third infiltrator who was still struggling with the knife that Delancey had sunk into his leg.
"Nice take down." Vorscham muttered as he held his lance in front of him, directed between him and the infiltrator. He wiped his mouth where the woman who had vaulted off his chest had planted a kick, blood dripping from his split lip.
"What's the plan?" Delancey said, holding her sword in her hand, gripping a trio of daggers between the fingers of her left fist.
"Sweep left and take the cheeky one with the bow." Vorscham growled. "I'm going to take the one in black and make sure the third doesn't go anywhere."
"Roger." Delancey said, frowning at the young woman who now crept up to the window, glancing out of it and frowning as she watched and waited, a crossbow in her hands. "Let's go." Delancey readied the knives in her left hand and grinned as the woman looked back out the window. "I'll teach you to ignore me..." She raised her hand back over her shoulder and snapped straight out in a single fluid motion, letting a blade fly at the young woman's crossbow. The infiltrator ducked down at the last second, dropping as the blades glanced off the stone and bounced away, clattering to the ground. Her eyes grew wide as Delancey lunged at her, her sword raised over her head, bringing it down in a cleave that was aimed at the infiltrator's head. She rolled away as Delancey's sword struck the stone, bouncing it back and sending her rolling away. Delancey hissed as pain rain through up her hands, a fragment of stone slicing her cheek.
"What the hell?" The infiltrator stammered, taking a half step backwards and then faltering. She stumbled, dropping below the horizontal slash that Delancey lunged for, sending her crashing to the ground. She rolled immediately left as the blade crashed down again, sliding to her feet in a single motion. She started to dash backwards away from Delancey and the window, but she she twisted to try and bring her crossbow up, Delancey stuck her foot out in a sliding tackle, catching the infiltrator's leg and sending her sprawling to the ground, her small body bouncing as she hit hard. She tried to roll away again, and started to, getting a leg underneath her body, but Delancey jerked her leg out from under her, sending her crashing down again. The infiltrator dropped, but as she did, the young woman twisted her body and lashed out with her boot, striking Delancey's arm and sending the sergeant's sword skittering away.
Delancey snarled as pain blossomed in her wrist, glancing down at where her steel bracer had buckled under the force of the kick. She started to go for another weapon, but as Delancey turned into the woman, the infiltrator tucked her knees into her chest and then slammed both heels into Delancey's breast plate. As Delancey expelled a gasp of breath, she saw the woman screw her face up against the impact between her ankles and the armored chest plate. Delancey stumbled backwards and hit the ground, gasping for breath and wheezing as she pulled another trio of throwing knives from her leg mounted holder, snapping her arm back and letting them fly again. The infiltrator rolled, a sickening crack as her shoulder hit the ground, a yelp of pain escaping her lips as the slid to a stop as the knives clatter away, all of them missing.
"Cheeky little cunt!" Delancey snarled. She pulled a massive knife, the length of her forearm, off her leg and then pushed herself into a kneeling position, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth. "Stay still so I can put you out of my misery..." She raised her blade up and started to push herself to her feet, but an ear shattering screech instantly caused her to wince, duck, and rolling away as a massive bird swooped in, barring massive, razor sharp talons. The bird banked as it shredded through her cloak, rising above the bubble of blue energy and then coming around again. "A bird?" Delancey stammered, taking half a step back and readying a strike. The bird swooped and dived again, extending its talons and grasping at the blade.
"Valor! No!" The infiltrator gasped, trying to find her crossbow. She watched in horror as the bird broke off it's dive at the last second, snap rolling left and coming out, it's talons clicking off the ground as it bounded up and fought for height. "Stay back, Val!" The bird screeched defiantly, diving again, but the infiltrator had managed to get a hold of her crossbow, pushing herself into a sitting position and raising the weapon, trying to get a clear view on the attacker."Move, Valor!" The bird snapped at Delancey as she tried to fend it off with the knife, while simultaneously using it to keep the bird from gashing her arms and eyes. Delancey stumbled backwards, using the knife to slice her weapons belt, pulling the sheath off it to swat at the bird. She snarled as the bird started to back away, but Delancey lunged and managed to find a hit with the long sheath.
"Stupid bloody bird!" Delancey snarled as she went for another knife.
"You bitch!" The infiltrator scrambled along the ground towards where the bird had crashed to the stone and now pecked at his wing, held at an odd angle. The moment of panic faded and the woman rolled, bringing the bow up, but a throwing knife struck the bow and knocked it to the side as the Demacian soldier charged with her hand back, drawing a blade. Delancey pawed her way forward on all four, landing on top of her, lunging and knocking away the infiltrator's bow. Delancey ripped the woman's face wrappings off and then froze, her hand raised, spikes sticking out from the steel knuckled guards of the dagger she clutched in her hand.
"You're... you're just a child..." Delancey stammered, her hand faltering. The young woman whimpered as Delancey used her knee to pin the young woman's arm to the ground. Delancey frowned and then kicked the crossbow away. "What the hell?"
"I'm a friend of the prince." She stammered, wincing as Delancey pushed herself off, and twisted her around, ripping the young woman's belt off and using it to detain her hands. "Please..."
"Just shut the fuck up and stay down." Delancey hissed as she shook her head. She kept the woman pinned, face down, and turned to look for another threat. "Lieutenant?"
"Go after him!" Vorscham snarled, jerking his head in the direction of the balcony door. The man with the oily black cloak was limping towards the door, a massive bloody streak forming along the ground as he dragged his leg, hobbling along. He cleared the doorway, hobbling towards the edge of the balcony. He glanced over the edge of the balcony. Delancey went for a throwing knife but she snarled angrily when couldn't find any. I wasted to many of the stupid little girl! She scooped the weapons belt up from the ground and drew her falcata short sword as she dashed towards the balcony, tossing the belt aside.
"Don't move!" Delancey snarled at the man on the balcony, his head jerking up and around.
"Wait!" The young woman shouted, maneuvering herself into a better position. "The sniper..." As if called down by her words, a the whistle of a bolt and the clank of the bolt striking her armor sent Delancey diving for cover. She snarled, as she looked at the deep gash is her shoulder pauldron.
"God dammit!" She snarled, she glanced out from behind the pillar, snarling as another bolt struck the stone a few centimeters away from her hand. "I can't fucking see where he is!"
"The tower." The young woman said with a frown. Delancey glanced back at her with wild eyes. She rolled across the gap in the balcony and then crawled forward to where the detained woman sat. She grabbed the young woman by the collar of her cloak and hauled her to the side, slamming her into the wall.
"You say you're a friend of the prince but you know these things!" Delancey snarled, her hair now wild. The woman gasped for breath, but Delancey picked her up, bringing her closer to her face. "Speak!"
"Across the way, he's at the very top shooting down." The young woman wheezed, tears forming in her eyes against the impact with the wall.
"How did you..." Delancey began to say, leaning backwards and glancing out the window, a frown contorting her face. She glanced at the bird and then shook her head, pulling the young woman up to meet her eye to eye. "Why are you helping us? How can I trust you?"
"I'm not an enemy..." She said weakly, tugging on the restraints, glancing over at her bird. It still bit pitifully at the feathers on its wing, trying to hold it steady, though the wing still stuck out at an odd angle. The young woman shook her head again. "I'm a friend of the prince and Shyvana!" She was desperate now. "I can explain later!"
"Then what were you..." Delancey shook her head, dropping the young woman and glancing back towards the room. Alicia held the blue magical barrier up still, though Delancey could see that the gunny was getting faint, her chest heaving with every breath, her shoulder and arms shaking violently. "How's the prince, June?" She shouted, but the distraught look from the gunny sent a shiver down Delancey's spine. "Hold on I'm com-..."
"Don't let him get away!" Vorscham snarled, still wrestling with the first man Delancey had disabled with the knife. Delancey glanced once at Alicia and then back to where the man sat trying to bandage his leg with a strip of his cloak. The glossy black material wouldn't knot and his hands were fumbling. Delancey turned back to the Lieutenant and watched as green energy swirled around the infiltrator's fist and Vorscham slammed his arm to the side. Bolts of visible green energy sprayed out, leaving blast marks on Jarvan's wall, the stink of ozone filling the air. Vorscham tried to grapple the man into a hold, but The man cocked his arm forward and then slammed Vorscham on the nose and sent him sprawling backwards on the ground.
"Son of a..." Vorscham shouted, grasping at his face, blood pouring from behind his hands. The man had rolled onto all fours and was now crawling towards the window, but Vorscham, blood pouring from his nose, lumbered forward and dived onto him, sending them both crashing to the ground again. "Go DOWN you fucking bastard!" Vorscham growled, wrapping an arm around his neck. He tried to lever his arm around to secure and apply pressure to the choke hold, but the man was snarling and kicking with his good leg. The masked man brought his leg up and yanked Delancey's throwing knife from his leg with a snarl and then his hand began to glow orange. A cylinder of light formed around his forearm and his hand began to glow red, the blade coated in a sheath of sizzling orange energy. He reached out and then brought the blade crashing into the side of Vorscham's chest plate.
"FUCK!" Vorscham shouted, ripping the man off and then snarling in pain as he let the man roll away. He grabbed the pain and howled, his hand coming away pink and steaming; the blade was still red hot."God fucking dammit! FUCKING FUCK!" He snarled, grasping at his hand as he kicked his way out of the avenue of fire that ran straight down the middle of the room. Crossbow bolt now rained in a periodic intervals, striking the ground and illuminating the room.
"Lieutenant!" Delancey shouted, pushing up against the wall and watching as the man Vorscham had been stabbed by slunk over the wall and disappeared over the edge. She started to move out of her cover to jump at the first man who was still struggling with the blade that Delancey had lodged deep in his leg. He screamed in pain as he ripped it out, blood staining the snow a gruesome crimson color. He discarded the cloak with a curse and rolled, trying to haul himself over the balcony, but as he levered himself up, his hand slipped in the snow and he landed on his bad leg. Delancey's blade must have shredded his Achilles tendon, because as he caught himself with the bad leg, he snarled and howled, collapsing back onto the ground in a heap.
"You okay, LT?" Delancey said as an eerie silence started to settle over the room.
"Hell fucking no!" He growled, but she watched as he ripped a strip of cloth from his cloak, wrapped it around his burnt hand and then grabbed at the blade. He gritted his teeth, his normally tan skin looking unusually pale as sweat dripped down his brow. He ripped the blade out of his chest plate and snarled angrily as he did, his face contorting in a mix of anger and pain. "Bastard caught me off guard." Vorscham growled. "He was no amateur, special forces training and everything."
"What the hell is going on, sir?" Delancey said, shaking her head.
"You tell me." Vorscham spat back as he unclasped the chest plat and lifted his tunic, examining the blow. It had easily pierced his chest plate and cut into him, but the strike had been precisely aimed, directly into his rib cage, between the lowest two floating ribs. "He didn't get me very deep I don't think." He shook his head and dropped the tunic. "Heat of the blade cauterized the wound and everything. Stupid punk. What about yours?" Delancey pointed to where the young woman was worming her way towards the bird.
"She claims to be a friend of the prince and Shyvana." Delancey shook her head. "Never seen her before. You?"
"Fuck if I know." Vorscham growled. "Alicia, hows the prince?" He turned towards the gunny and then frowned.
"I think he was poisoned." She said, shaking her head, her voice trembling. "Shyvana removed the bolt that hit his shoulder, but there is poison in his system. The dose doesn't appear to be lethal, but we really need to get him to a hospital."
"Hold out just a little longer, June!" Delancey tried to sound reassuring, but the pain in the gunny's chest was starting to show on her face. She nodded bravely, but even through the blue barrier her face was ghostly white.
"Damnit." Vorscham hissed. " She won't be able to hold much longer. What about the other one? There was a third..."
"I got him in the tendon and he screwed his leg up trying to go over the railing. He hasn't been able to get himself up over it and the howling hasn't stopped either." She peeked out and then ducked back, the man was still nursing his lower leg, a steady stream of cursing and yowling from pain poured through the door.
Vorscham leaned out to see the man starting to haul himself up towards the railing. "Fuck he's getting ready to jump."
"Incoming!" Delancey shouted as the whistle of the crossbow's bolt filled the air. She ducked back behind the pillar and waited for it to strike the stone. The shooter didn't seem to be aiming for anyone in particular, just trying to keep them behind cover. The meaty THUNK of the bolt hitting flesh echoed through the room. Delancey immediately began to look around for who had been hit, but flickering orange light lit the stone leading in from the balcony.
"Shit!" Vorscham snarled, watching as the man who had been injured was consumed in a ball of flames. "If he dies..." The man screamed as he finally pulled himself over the railing, disappearing over the edge with a banshee's cry of pain. "For fuck's sake!" He shouted, bouncing his fist off the stone floor. Smoke rising from beneath the balcony confirmed his fears.
"Lieutenant!" An officer shouted as Demacian soldiers started to hustle in the door. Men with shields pushed up towards them, holding the heavily armored steal plate between the wounded Demacians and the window and balcony. "What the hell is happening."
"Sniper, Far tower?" Delancey said glancing at the young woman. She nodded silently, cradling the bird in her lap. Delancey wondered how she'd managed to get the restraints off, but she shook her head and dismissed it. "I think he's gone now, but two got away."
"One of them is probably dead." Vorscham said, shaking his head as a medic jogged up and dropped to his side. "Executed by the archer." Disgust rolled through his voice. "I don't know about the third. He was badly injured but managed to slip away over the balcony when he surprised me." The medic started to remove his chest plate, but Vorscham smacked the young man's hands away. "The prince needs help." He gestured to where the prince still lay on his back.
"He's getting it, sir." The medic said, knocking the lieutenant's hands out of his way. "Now be quiet before I have you detained. I need to check your injury for poison as well."
"Fuck it." Vorscham muttered, but didn't oppose the young man. Instead he turned back towards where Alicia, Shyvana and Jarvan were. The magical barrier finally fell and Alicia collapsed to the ground, just barely catching herself before she hit the ground. Blue magic energy poured off of her body, draining through her shoulders and sparkling through the air as it dispersed. Her chest heaved and her already pale skin was as white as snow. Sweat poured from her face, but she turned towards Shyvana, a weak smile on her face.
"Is Jarvan okay?" Alicia stammered, her breathing weak. Shyvana's face was a mask of confusion and grief, but she had been shoved aside by the medics. Shyvana glanced at her and shook her head in a bix of fear and confusion.
"I don't know..." Shyvana said, shaking her head. "Its not something I've ever seen before... He's so cold."
"He's weak, and his pulse is thready." The field surgeon said, glancing at the long, narrow cylinder that was pitch black, darker than the deepest void, an eerie blue light glowing from it. Dark blue mist pooled in the bottom of the metal pan it had been placed into, like a malicious soup, swirling and billowing menacingly. "I've never seen a poison like this though." He shook his head. "I can't know if he's going to make it here. I need to get him back to the hospital."
"But what about..." Shyvana began to say but the surgeon shook his head.
"I'm sorry, ma'am." he said, his lips a grim line and his brow knit in frustration. "I don't know what to tell you." He turned to the men who were assisting him. "Get him onto a stretcher and get him out of here. Full guard. Double time." They nodded silently and went about their work, moving Jarvan onto a stretcher.
"Wait..." Shyvana stammered, reaching out towards the prince as he was lifted away and carried out of the room. "But.. Jarvan.. I..."
"Shy..." Alicia murmured, pulling herself up to the dragoness. "He'll be okay." She tried to sound encouraging, but the weakness of her voice and her fluttering eyelids caused Shyvana's stomach to quiver. Alicia collapsed at Shyvana's feet.
"June..." Shyvana stammered, blinking away tears in surprise. "Hey, June..." She shook the gunnery sergeant's shoulders but didn't get a reply. She looked to one of the medics. "Help..." She tried to shout, but her throat was closed up and sore, and tears began to run down her cheek. It emerged as barely a rasp.
"I got her." A medic dropped down next to her and pulled Alicia from her arms. "She's just exhausted. She'll be fine." He said softly. He glanced at Shyvana and blushed slightly, turning back to the gunny, laying her out and unfolding a blanket, tossing it over her.
"I..." Shyvana's voice died in her throat before she could say anything else. She brushed the tears from her eyes as Delancey helped Vorscham over towards the dragoness. Delancey let Vorscham sit on the edge of the bed and then draped a blanket over Shyvana's shoulders.
"Thanks." Shyvana said, weakly, trying to shake the shock she felt off.
"Buck up." Vorscham said, doing his best to sound nice. "Jarvan's in the best care in all of Valoran. There's only a slim chance he might die."
"He might die?" Shyvana said with a small voice, her eyes growing wide. Tears streamed down her cheeks again and she buried her face in her arms.
"Damnit LT." Delancey hissed. She dropped down next to Shyvana and draped an arm gently over the dragoness's shoulders. "There, there." Delancey cooed, trying her best to comfort the dragoness, remembering what Alicia had said before. "He'll be just fine. Don't worry." Shyvana sniffed and nodded silently. "Come on, we'll get you dressed and we'll follow them to the hospital."
Shyvana nodded, as Delancey rested a hand upon her shoulder. Shyvana sniffed a few times and then turned, looking over the room.
Delancey stood up and looked back at the room as well. Blood, fire blackened stone, weapons and armor and the stick of battle was everywhere. She glanced down at the Shyvana and then followed her gaze out of the small gap that the shield bearers didn't cover, getting a glimpse of the tower. She felt a shudder go through Shyvana's shoulders. She started to comfort the dragon again, but when she looked down again, her voice froze in her throat.
Shyvana's eyes glimmered a fiery gold color, and the skin around her cheeks was almost blue in color, slight ridges showing in her skin, the overlapping shape of scales. Delancey took half a step back, blinking a few times as lines of black traced through Shyvana's hair instead of the rich ruby red.
Shyvana hadn't shuddered out of fear for herself of Jarvan, she had shuddered out of pure, unbridled rage.