So, i'm having fun with this. I'll get to real plot eventually, but for now... Have fun with me not giving the important people names..
The brunette boy crouched in the shadows of the cliff face above Forcystus's Ranch. His slight frame was clothed in down sized Desian armor, a helm sat next to him as his red-flecked brown eyes studied the inner yard. It was late, but the compound still had lights on – to better enable those on Security duty to spot potential escapees. He knew about the ones on the gate, and most of the rest pointed inward. Easy to avoid.
The preteen straightened, sliding the helmet on over chin length hair, making sure the two sheathes – one for a cleaver-like blade that the Desians favored, another for a dagger almost as big as his forearm – were affixed correctly, the short over his left shoulder and the long at his right hip. A pair of Raybit guns at the same locations were drawn, then slipped back into place to be swapped for the blades with practiced ease, before all the weapons were back in their housing, and the boy slipped onto the fence. He spotted something in the yard below, a shadow and a glowing spot higher up, and mentally revised his plan. Other end of yard, sneak in, kill target, kill those who stop me on way out. The boy nodded to himself, and continued along the fence line, before dropping into a crouch.
"Eh? Anyone there?" the boy frowns as the man, on the other side of the yard and taking a smoking break, called out. He checked his helmet, and stood up.
"Sorry." The boy calls out. "The line in the bathroom was too long. I was taking a piss." The man was large, muscled thickly, taller than most people the boy knew.
"Huh... Ain't seen you about afore." The man muses, taking a drag on a cigarette. "New here?"
"I got transferred from Lord Rodyle's." the boy says easily. "But, the key system there's based on Mana, or chips implanted in those with very little, rather than card keys... so I never remember to take mine when I go out..." the boy sheepishly hinted that he'd like to be let in. The large man glanced at where his card key was, then at the preteen.
"It would mean my head if I let you in without ID."
"True." The boy admits, offering a half smile. It could mean your head anyway. "It should be in this pocket..." they were large, the cloth of the uniform only trimmed to his size rather than made for it like the armor. "Aha." He pulled the tag out, and held it up to about chest level on the man – as high as he could reach. In the light of the man's cigarette and the flood lights of the yard, the name Van Grants highlights. "See?" The man studies it for a moment, before grunting, and walking for the door. The boy puts the tag away, following with a smile as the man drew his card and swiped it. He shut the door after both were in.
"So, what's your duty roster?"
"Odd jobs, still. I was on mechanical maintenance at Lord Rodyle's, being so small makes it so I can get into parts they can't, but Lord Forcystus hasn't found one he thinks I fit yet. This is my turn." The boy turns and darts away, hearing the large man mutter 'weird guy' as he ground out his smoke. The boy paused around the corner, listening hard. Not hearing the man's footsteps behind him, he grinned, and continued down the path, reading the labels on doors to aid his memorized path.
A locked door, his door, and he stopped before the panel, pulling a smaller keypad and screen out of one of his pockets, and got to hacking. It opened quickly, and he slipped in, the auto lock kicking in. The Desian on duty blinked at him.
"Are you new?" the confused man asked.
"Yes." The boy says. "But I'm your relief."
"Really? You're early..." the man turns back around, getting up. The boy draws his dagger, holding it behind him as he moved for a better angle. The door opened, and another Desian was there. "Wait, you're Valoren, so who'-" The unfortunate man didn't get to continue speaking, the boy's blade slicing through his neck, his other hand drawing the sword.
"You had to walk in just now, didn't you..." the boy scowls as the man he'd just killed gurgles and falls to the ground.
"Who are you?" the actual relief demands, drawing his own blade.
"No time for that." The boy sighs, lunging forward with sword leading, dagger firmly at his side. The larger male wasn't much of a match for the small one's speed, and the blade that blocked blade fell from numb hands as the forgotten dagger slipped between ribs. "It doesn't matter to you, anyway. You're dead." A twist, and blood sprayed the boy in the face, and the Desian crumpled. With a dying gasp, he reached and slammed a button on the machine. "... asshole." The boy cut the man's throat for good measure, before quickly cleaning his blades on their armor, and sheathing them while sirens wailed. "Intruder alarm... tch, of course." The boy mutters, wiping at his helm to get most the blood off it, before darting back into the hall, keeping his bloodied face down. Most of the other Desians weren't interested in looking at one in their armor, so he wasn't stopped. The door came open to the yard easily, and the boy darted outside. A blast of wind Mana sent the boy to a halt, nearly knocking his helm off. The boy flipped, keeping it on even as the wind flicked the blood from his face and the door shut, landing lightly to draw the small guns.
"Halt, human." Aqua haired and terracotta eyed, the master of the ranch pointed his cannon-like arm at the boy, green gathering at its tip once more. "I don't know how you got into my ranch, but I do know that you have the blood of my men on you." Forcystus's single eye narrowed at the small figure, who had just grinned at his knowledge, marking him as right. "You'll pay for that, midget." That smile turned into a frown.
"I ain't no midget, one eye." Those guns, from a Raybit, fired in rapid succession as the boy darted, heading for the gate. Another blast of Wind Mana sent him off track, and he moved for the walls instead, his helm falling to the ground with a score in it, showing his clearly preteen face and focused brown eyes.
"You're right. You're a snot nose brat." Forcystus says, almost a little confused. It gave the boy time to grab his helm, and pull out a little device.
"Guess here's as good a place as any...Gunna be pissed though..." the boy mutters, glaring at Forcystus as he pelted the Cardinal with a few more bullets – deflected by strong winds. The machine whirred, and the boy vanished in the pulsing of Teleportation Mana.
If you need any idea of fighting style for my 'nameless' brat, go look up the Sellswords soemthing or other, by Salvatore. Artermis Enteri. that's what he fights like. In my mind, it's a bit dance like.