One Way or Another

(8:00 AM)

"Wait, stop!" shouted Norris, putting up a desperate struggle as a pair of guards pulled him into the alleyway. "Where are you taking me? I haven't done anything wrong!"

The exiled ranger's cries went unanswered as he and Shen were practically carried by the burly guards down toward one of the deeper sections of the district's backalleys, then unceremoniously shoved to the ground against the wall. The ranger winced as a shock of pain fired through his neck on impact. Shen immediately began to stand, but Norris quickly caught the warrior by the arm and forcefully yanked him back down.

As skilled as the easterner might be, Norris didn't know if he'd be able to defeat four well-armed city militiamen. The ranger wasn't ready to gamble away his own continued safety on such an uncertainty.

The most heavy-set of the guards, the one whose insignia marked him as a sergeant, folded his arms as he addressed Norris. "I heard you speaking quite openly out there about stealing something from the local temple. Not the smartest criminal type, are you? Maybe you'd like to go shout the plan from the rooftops? I think there are a few people in the district that didn't hear you."

"Uh, I was just making that up so that people listening would think I was a big-shot," Norris stammered, "None of what I said was actually true. No heist at all."

"Hmph." The guard shook his head in disgust, "I can't believe Cordas would hire such a thoughtless pair of ingrates. I was under the impression this mission was of utmost significance to him."

Norris blinked, wondering if he heard correctly. "Wait… what – do you work for Cordas?"

"Give the fool a copper, he's starting to figure it out," said the sergeant, prompting a slight chuckle from his comrades. "We're not city guards, idiot. These are our disguises for the heist."

Letting out a slight breath of relief, Norris began to stand, "Ah, I see. Well, then I guess we're all friends here after–"

The 'sergeant' suddenly punched Norris in the stomach, slamming the weaker man against the wall. Leaning close, the guard growled in the poisoned man's face, "You were supposed to be here with Horance. Where is he?"

Though he was still coughing from the blow, Norris managed to get out an answer. "He's dead, but I did kill that criminal over the east side of town like Cordas wanted." Although the exiled ranger didn't actually know if the ponytailed fellow perished from the wound, he was convinced that saying otherwise would shorten his life span considerably.

"Just as I feared," muttered the false guard, dropping a hand to the hilt of his sword. "Everything is going wrong. Your duty was to keep the wizard alive, fool. Without the documents he was carrying, we can't gain entry to their sub-level vault. Hells, we won't even be able to get past the front gates." He drew his sword and held it high, "And if we can't even finish the mission, we won't need you alive."

"Wait." One of the other fake guards held the leader's arm back. "Perhaps we should first inform Cordas of what has happened. He may have other resources that we could use."

The leader obviously wasn't pleased with this interruption, but didn't object. He slipped his blade back into its sheath and gestured at his henchmen, "Fine. We still have the magical artifact to contact him, but we'll need to find a large mirror for it to work." He kicked Norris's leg, "Get up, both of you. We're going for a little walk."

(8:09)

"Good to see you again, sir! How can I help you this fine morning?"

Cerdan smiled warmly at the florist, looking as natural as any other customer in the store. He glanced at the door, checking to make sure no one he knew was watching from outside. If his agents learned that he was buying flowers during a guild crisis, they might get the wrong idea. "I'd like to purchase a bouquet…"

"Let me guess sir," began the florist, leaning in with a knowing wink, "Meeting with another of your special lady-friends?"

"Sort of." Cerdan knew that if Selena were here, she wouldn't have taken too kindly at being referred to as his 'lady-friend' in any way.

The clerk raised an eyebrow slightly, but didn't follow up. Making the sale was all that mattered, and judging by the quality of the elf's cloak, this particular customer would be able to pay handsomely. "Ah. In any case, we have a recent shipment of long-stem roses from Cormyr, and–"

"Actually, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to buy the least desirable brand of flowers that you carry in stock."

This time, the clerk's other eyebrow went up. "Er, if you insist, sir. Uh, I think the most unattractive product we carry is a flower called a 'stinkbloom'. It's actually considered a weed in some areas of the world due to the horrid stench it gives off when you crush one of the blossoms. We normally wouldn't sell it, but it wards off flies and larger insects; there's a high demand for it among butchers and refuse cleaners." He gestured around the shop at the other flora on display, "But I would instead recommend one of our more attractive varieties of–"

"Stinkbloom will do fine. Half a dozen, my good man." Cerdan grinned at the puzzled man as if everything was fine in the world.

Giving the elf one final confused look, the florist made his way toward the back room where the foul plants were presumably kept. "The richest ones always have the strangest habits…"

The elf pretended not to hear the clerk as he waited, carefully fingering a tightly sealed pouch attached to the side of his belt. If the temple was about to be invaded by the same group that was slaying his guild members, he knew that Selena and the rest of her fellow clergy were going to need a little outside help.

After a few minutes, the clerk returned holding at arm's length a bouquet of long, crusty, yellow-blossomed flowers. Even from across the room, Cerdan could smell the overwhelming stench from the flowers. The clerk, very eager to have the pungent plants removed from the main room, completed their transaction hurriedly and bid the elf a good day.

On his way out the door, Cerdan snapped the small pouch off of his belt and carefully hid it within the paper wrapping that was holding the flower stems in a bunch. Now that he had everything ready, the guildmaster decided it was time to head north toward his meeting with Selena.

As soon he stepped into the street, the elf noticed a group of four city guards coming from the opposite direction. Strangely enough, all were marching out of synch in unusually close formation. Stranger still was the fact that they appeared to be escorting two fully armed and unshackled prisoners; a skinny scruffy-haired fellow and an easterner. Either these guards were new recruits – which was unlikely due to the fact that they all appeared middle-aged – or they were pulling off some sort of show or scam.

Keeping his gait casual and his smile relaxed, Cerdan moved forward with confidence, even offering a nod and a salute to the guards as he passed. Thankfully, the only reaction he received was a slight nod in return from the lead guard, whose tunic bore the insignia of a sergeant.

As soon as they passed each other, the elf increased his pace. Whoever those 'guards' were, it wouldn't do Cerdan any service to waste his time investigating them when he already had enough items on his agenda for the day. Sending a quick glance over his shoulder, the elf saw with a touch of amusement that the party of guards was entering the florist's shop that he just left. Why they'd be escorting prisoners to such a place was beyond the elf's imagination.

Shaking the thought from his mind, Cerdan focused on the road ahead and made his way toward the meeting place.

(8:18)

The florist was opening a window to clear out the lingering stinkbloom odour when the door chimed and a quartet of guards entered his store.

"Er, yes officers? Is there something I can help you with?"

Ignoring the clerk, the 'sergeant' glanced around the shop and noticed something at the back of the room. Specifically, he was looking at a large, mirrored pane just below the skylight of the store. Evidently, the mirror was used to reflect sunlight toward the rows of potted plants growing on all sides of the room.

"Clear out the customers here," he whispered to his guards. The sergeant approached the clerk and gestured at Shen and Norris, who were standing uncomfortably by the door. "These two gentlemen tell me that you sold them a batch of illegal narcotics; some black lotuses, to be exact. We're going to have to ask you to wait in your back room as we conduct a search of the premises." He sniffed the air and made a disgusted face at the smell of stinkbloom flowers.

"What? That's preposterous!" shouted the clerk, "I'll have you know I carry only–"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure," said the sergeant, grabbing the clerk by the arm as he pulled the man toward the rear of the store. Just as they disappeared from sight into the back room, the sergeant reached down and began to draw his sword…

Norris, meanwhile, was busy attempting to convey to Shen that these men were not city guards, but the warrior's fellow henchmen working for Cordas. None of the guards spoke the Kara-Turian's language, and none of them seemed particularly interested in gaining the warrior's trust either.

Apparently Norris was the only one truly concerned about the dangers that might result, should the blademaster mistakenly become hostile toward the guards.

After a few minutes the sergeant returned to the front of the store with an indifferent expression on his face, using a large leaf to clean a smear of blood from his blade. Seeing that the remaining customers had been shown out, he sheathed his weapon and stepped over to the mirror in the middle of the room. The false officer then reached into a pocket on the front of his tunic and removed a small gold circlet ornamented with several runes along the rim.

He adjusted the mirror on the ground so that it was nearly horizontal, and carefully laid the circlet upon the centre of the pane. The officers waited quietly for several moments, then the runes on the circlet began to flare on their own accord, and a water-like ripple extended from the circlet to the outer edges of the mirror, leaving behind a new image in the reflection. Even Norris and Shen noticed the magical effect, and they tentatively stepped closer to see what was happening.

The sergeant stood at the base of the mirror portal and peered down inside, hoping that Cordas was still in his office.

(8:23)

"It's interesting, really," Cordas said aloud, sunk deeply in his own line of thought, "that so much of a man's faith and willpower can ride on such a small trinket." He held a simple string necklace before his eyes, peering at the small stone-carved unicorn hanging on a tiny front hook. "Take that away, and where does it leave the man?"

The crimelord shrugged to himself and placed it over his neck. That white unicorn pendant, a symbol of the some forest goddess called Mielikki, was once the property of Norris before the ranger lost his honour. Now it was just another pretty bauble, hollow of any noble intrinsic meaning or depth. Cordas kept it as a reminder, not just for Norris, but for the crimelord himself; it reminded the old man of how deeply entwined a person can become with their possessions. And how vulnerable it leaves them.

"Sir? Are you there?" called a voice from the back corner of the office.

Cordas twisted around in his chair and saw that one of his henchmen had appeared in the face of the portal mirror. This particular henchman knew his place, and was patiently waiting on the other side of the portal, not daring to step into Cordas' office without permission.

The old man went over to the mirror. "Report. What have you brought me?"

"Ah, there is a slight complication, sir. You see, Horance…" The sergeant paused for a split second, "Horance lost the papers for entry to the temple of Tyr." The henchman swallowed, not willing to incur his master's wrath.

"I see." Cordas said, an edge coming into his voice, "I don't need to explain to you again just how imperative your mission is. I will deal with Horance later. For now, I order you to use whatever resources are at your disposal and find another way into the tower. You must succeed in breaking into their vault, do you understand?"

"Yes sir." The sergeant gave a formal nod.

The old man was about to return to his chair, when he suddenly snapped his fingers and turned back toward the false guard. "Oh, there is one other thing. We've received word that there is a high-ranking Shadow Thief passing through somewhere in your vicinity. Stay vigilant for a male elf in a dark cloak, but don't pursue him until after you've dealt with the matter at the temple. Understood?"

"Of course, sir." The henchman gave an informal salute, then reached forward and plucked something off his side of the mirror to end the spell, causing the image to ripple and return to an ordinary reflection of Cordas' office.

So, Cordas thought to himself, yet another complication arises. He toyed at the unicorn necklace as he considered his next move. Reaching into a pocket, the old man brought out a gold pocket watch and checked the time.

He trusted that his first team of henchmen would gain entry to the tower in one way or another, but he had less confidence about the second team that he had sent out less than an hour ago. The second group was tasked with travelling to Lancam's Isle prison, off the coast of Baldur's Gate. No doubt they would be back on the mainland within a few hours, but he questioned whether the prisoner they were sent to retrieve would be found in time to appease Cordas' lord.

"So much riding on this quest for a few trinkets…" Cordas whispered to himself, hoping that everything would soon fall into place.

(8:28)

With a yellow hood keeping the sun from attacking her eyes, Selena glanced about the street one last time to make sure nobody was watching her. Holding her robe closed, the elf quickly darted into an alleyway behind a large domed building toward the place where Cerdan was supposed to meet with her.

This particular alley was a good place for secret meetings, as it was located directly behind the city's local mage's guild. Anyone attempting to magically scry in on a conversation here would receive nothing but interference from the magic emanating off the building.

Selena quietly paced down the alleyway, wondering if Cerdan was going to show up late as usual.

"Well now," said a low, raspy voice from the shadows, momentarily startling the priestess. "What do we 'ave 'ere?" A cowled figure emerged out of the darkness and blocked Selena's path. "Now what's a pretty dumplin' like yourself wanderin' alone in a dangerous place like this for, hey?"

Selena calmed down and gave the man an unimpressed look, "I know it's you, Cerdan. Now stop talking like that, you sound like a fool."

Tossing his hood back to reveal a mischievous smile, Cerdan switched back to his normal voice. "Guess you know me a little too well."

"Can we make this quick? I have more pressing duties to attend to today. What's this about, anyway?" She tapped her foot, "Do you have a tip for me? Some illegal trade going on today, or a non-guild thief making trouble for you?"

"Maybe I just wanted to see your pretty face." Cerdan grinned, then reached out and pretended to pinch her cheek.

Selena smacked his hand away, "Stop it. I resent that."

"You're right. Maybe you'd be prettier if you didn't have your hair wound up so tightly all the time," he said, pointing at her red hair tied up in a bun.

"I didn't come here to be mocked. Journeying here was a mistake; I have much better things to be doing. I'm going now."

"Okay, hold on there priestess." Catching her by the arm, Cerdan let the humourous twinge leave his voice. The red-haired woman let out a frustrated sigh, but didn't make an effort to leave.

The thief reached into his tunic and brought out Horance's scroll, which he then handed to Selena. "Take a look at this. Some time today, your temple will be attacked by a group that's trying to stir up trouble between my guild and the Church."

"I see." Selena quickly skimmed the orders, then rolled it up and placed it in an inner pocket on her robes. "Thank you for the information. We'll take the necessary precautions."

"I'm sure you will." Cerdan was sure that they wouldn't. "But before you rush off on that happy note, I'd appreciate it if you accepted this gift." He brought his other hand out from behind his back, revealing the bouquet of crusty, yellow flowers.

"Oh. How… thoughtful." she hesitantly accepted the 'gift', and carefully sniffed at the blossoms. Immediately, a disgusted expression materialized on her face and she instinctively recoiled, holding the bouquet away at arms length.

"You should probably put those in water as soon as you get the chance.," said Cerdan, smiling pleasantly.

Selena nearly threw the flowers to the ground, but she managed to hold her temper in check. "Is this supposed to be a joke?"

"No. You should really put those in water as soon as you get back to the temple." Cerdan stopped grinning and emphasized every word, locking his eyes with hers until she gave a slow nod. The thief then leaned back against the wall as his smile popped up again, satisfied that she would do as he asked.

"Ugh, fine," she said, "Sometimes I wonder why I bother listening to you. You're not exactly the most trustworthy sort of person."

"Must be my eccentric charm and incredible good looks."

The priestess rolled her eyes, "Or maybe it's because the murder rate in your district has plummeted ever since you became guildmaster. In any case, be glad that I draw a distinction between 'justice' and 'law'. Otherwise you'd have spent the last three years behind bars, probably in one of the prisoner cells underneath our tower."

"Lucky me. I should really count my blessings some time," replied Cerdan.

"You should. There aren't many priests in the city that would stoop to aiding a lowly thief."

He put on another smirk. "Not even an extraordinarily handsome one?"

"Those tend to be the worst type of all."

"Ooh," Cerdan put a hand over his heart, "How cruel. Was that an insult? From you? Now I've heard everything."

"Indeed." Selena gave him the barest hint of a smile as she moved away, raising her hood as she returned to the street. "I'll leave you to recover your pride in private then. Contact me if you learn anything else."

Cerdan waved at her back and watched her walk away, waiting behind until she exited the alley. Then he brought a hand out from under his cloak, holding a small coin purse that he'd discreetly stolen from the priestess' belt during their conversation.

The thief gave it a little shake to make sure there were enough coins inside, then he smiled at his own quick fingers and hid the bag away in his pocket.

He knew that Selena might be a little upset… if she ever realized she had been pickpocketed. But he also knew that she would forgive him, so long as he gave her a friendly smile and a smarmy one-liner the next time they met. And so long as she didn't find out what he was planning to use the money for.

"Ah, yes," he said to himself, his tone full of self-congratulatory praise, "If there's one thing I know in this world, it's women."

With a little bounce in his step, the guildmaster began his trip back to the merchant district of the city. The elf was confident that he was now ready to deal with whatever new problems might crop up, so long as he could rely on the talents of his subordinates. He reluctantly suppressed the grin from his face as he made his way out into the street; it wouldn't do well for any local guild scouts to see him smiling during a crisis.

(8:42)

Something wasn't adding up.

Tomar shuffled through the papers atop the guildmaster's desk, looking for something that might shed more light on Cerdan's whereabouts. Finding nothing, he then crouched down and began checking the desk drawers, one by one. As he expected, they were all locked tightly. They were even humming slightly, no doubt sealed with warding spells.

Whatever secrets lay within would remain unknown to the guild lieutenant.

"Just like the secrets that damned elf is hiding in that thin skull of his," Tomar grumbled as he went back to rummaging through the papers on top.

There was something increasingly odd about the elf's behaviour over the past few years. Perhaps Kretia was right. Maybe Cerdan really had changed in some way, and not for the better.

Tomar had just received word that three guild scouts had been found dead near the northwestern exit of the merchant's district. Last he heard, Cerdan had been travelling in that direction as well for some reason. Unwilling to accept those events as mere coincidence, the lieutenant knew he had to uncover whatever terrible thing the elf was hiding. All for the good of the guild, of course.

"Everyone has dark secrets in their past," he whispered aloud. "So why does nobody in the guild know anything about your life before you joined? What could you possibly be hiding, Cerdan?"

He pushed a few more papers aside, and a small black stone fell from the desk, clacking as it fell down on the floor. Tomar paused for a second; that clacking sound didn't come from the stone itself, it came from something beneath a stack of sheets on the desk. Lifting a stack out of the way, the lieutenant saw an identical black stone sitting by itself.

"Ah. Listening Stones," Tomar mumbled to himself. Two enchanted stones that magically echoed sound to each other, often used as eavesdropping devices.

As he bent down to retrieve the first stone, there was a sudden squeaking noise from the door. Tomar tucked the stone in his pocket and ducked down behind the desk as someone entered the office. Peeking below the desk, Tomar relaxed slightly as he saw a child's pair of feet walk in, moving toward the desk.

Tomar suddenly leaped up from his hiding place. "Hey you!" he shouted, prompting a slight yelp from the sandy-haired kid.

Immediately the boy turned and ran, but Tomar was faster, and managed to snatch the child by the ear as he entered the hallway outside. The lieutenant looked down at the kid's face, and recognized him as one of Seffron's new local-area scouts. Dryn, or Fryn, or something like that.

"Tell me, lad. Who are you, and what were you doing coming into the guildmaster's office, eh?"

The boy tilted his head at a weird angle, trying to get the lieutenant to release his ear. "I'm Bryn, I was just going to report in to Cerdan."

"And just why are you referring to the guildmaster by name, rather than rank?" Tomar narrowed his eyes, convinced that this boy might know something about the elf.

"Er, um… he's a real good friend of my dad! They used to go fishing together down by the bay. And this one time, they caught this really huge bass, but they didn't have a net, so they–"

"Stop babbling!" Tomar crouched down, still holding Bryn by the ear, and stared the boy in the eye. "You know, I've heard tell that one of the guild scouts was sent out to deliver an envelope to someone in the north part of the city just a short while ago. Would you happen to know about that?"

"Uh, what's an 'envelope'?" Bryn stammered.

Frowning to himself, the lieutenant briefly considered striking the boy, but quickly put aside that idea. He wasn't willing to go that far… yet. Instead, he released the child, and gestured down the hall.

"I'm going to let you go this time, boy. But know this: I won't stand for any insubordination in this guild. If you tell Cerdan about our little meeting here, you won't get off as easily as you did just now." With a stony gaze, Tomar watched as Bryn nodded and scurried away.

It was obvious that Bryn was going to squeal to Cerdan the first chance he got, Tomar knew that. That's why the lieutenant had discreetly planted the Listening Stone in one of the boy's pockets.

"I may not have passed the thieves' test," Tomar muttered to himself, "But I've picked up a trick or two over the years." He went back to the guildmaster's office to quietly retrieve the other Listening Stone, and to wait until Cerdan returned.

Something about all this wasn't adding up, but he was completely fixed on finding out what the elf was up to. One way or another, he was going to draw out the truth.

(8:50)

Norris and the rest of Cordas' goons trudged through the city's northern alleyways, grim and silent as they each wondered how exactly they were going to penetrate the temple of Tyr.

During the Sergeant's communiqué with Cordas, Norris picked up on the fact that Cordas was still uninformed that Horance was dead. No doubt the Sergeant was planning to leave that pleasant little task to Norris himself.

The exiled ranger quickened his pace a little so he could walk alongside the Sergeant at the front of the group. Cordas' henchman didn't even dignify Norris with a glance.

"How exactly are we going to get into the tower now?" asked the ranger, cocking his head toward the spire that was slowly looming closer, "As far as I know, they only let people inside on official business. People in need of healing to a separate building just outside the tower."

"Something will present itself," the Sergeant replied, "Something always does. Just be prepared to follow my orders."

"What will happen if we fail to break into their vault?"

"Then I will receive a scolding reprimand or two from my boss," said the henchman, giving Norris a dark smile, "While you will be dead."

"And if we succeed? Will I still be dead, or is there actually a measure of decency in black-hearted crooks like you?"

The Sergeant slowly began to clench and relax his fist, "Don't be so quick to condemn us for operating on the wrong side of society. I'd much rather be a loyal criminal than a traitor to my cause." He gave Norris a sly look.

Grimacing fiercely, the ranger knew that the man was making an underhanded jab at him.

"Yes, that's right," said the Sergeant, turning back to face the road, "Cordas told me all about your old deeds as a forest defender. It'd make a mighty fine series of bardic tales… except for that sudden bit at the end." The henchman made an elaborate show of stroking his chin, playing at a confused expression. "Tell me, I keep forgetting, how many people was it that died, exactly? Five thousand? Five hundred?"

"Just five," Norris murmured through grit teeth.

"Only five? A pittance. And yet, that seems to make it even more tragic, doesn't it? Five innocent souls that trusted you, were depending on you… and were buried because of you. I guess resurrections just don't come cheaply these days, do they?"

"Enough."

"Did you ever get around to informing their families? Then again, maybe they'd be better off in the dark. Wouldn't want to hear that the man their relatives trusted turned into a stone-cold murderer, hm?"

"Enough!" Norris lashed out, slamming the larger man against the wall, and used his forearm to pin the man's neck against the stone.

Immediately, two of the other henchmen appeared on either side of the ranger, and began to pull him back, raining their fists down on the back of Norris' head. Searing pain ran through the ranger's neck as the burning sensation from the poisonous wound intensified. The Sergeant shoved Norris away to the ground, and joined in by giving the ranger a swift kick to the mid-section.

The leader waved his fellow henchmen away before they did too much damage to the ranger. "Guess that's a tender spot for you, hm?" He crouched down beside Norris and spoke softly, "I may need you yet, so you'll remain alive for now.

"You want me to help you get that antidote from Cordas? Impress me. So far, all I've seen of you is a sniveling fool." Without another look, the man stood and slowly continued walking toward the temple. "So much for 'stone-cold murderer'."

The remaining henchmen, including Shen, resumed their pace as well, marching past the collapsed ranger in pursuit of their leader.

Norris felt nothing but pain. The burning feeling from his neck was becoming worse; whenever he moved, even the slightest turn of the head, it felt like his flesh was being scalded. But the worst pain came from seeing the five familiar faces in his mind's eye once more.

Five faces. He remembered their light expressions and eager looks from so many years ago. But that memory only further soured the ranger's mood when he thought of the last time he saw those same five faces: twisted, grey and lifeless as they lay upon the cold stone tablets in a dark morgue.

"Hurry up, ranger!" called one of the henchmen from further ahead.

Forcing himself to ignore as much of the pain as possible, Norris struggled up and leaned on one hand against the wall for a moment, breathing heavily. He glanced back over his shoulder for a moment, and winced at the pain.

Then he stopped and did a double take. His eyes were still affected by Horance's Eagle Eye spell, and he could spot a hooded woman walking down an alleyway far off in the distance, moving in the same direction as his own party. More importantly, plainly visible hanging from her neck was a simple shiny medallion, a holy symbol of Tyr.

"Wait!" he called to the henchmen, "I can see a cleric of Tyr coming this way!"

The false guards all turned to face the ranger and began squinting in the direction he was pointing. Whoever was approaching was certainly out of earshot, but that didn't stop one or two of the henchmen from whispering at Norris to shut up.

The Sergeant took a tiny spyglass out from a back pocket and peered down the alleyway through it. "Well, ranger. It seems you're good for something after all. Sharp pair of eyes can be an asset, indeed."

Norris remained silent, not willing to explain the truth about his temporarily enhanced vision.

"This gives me an idea on how we can get into the tower," said the Sergeant. He reached for his belt and removed a long knife, which he tossed to the ranger. "Go murder her."

"W-what!" Norris gaped. Sniping at a criminal from a distance was one thing. Slicing up a faithful of Tyr with a dirty knife was another level entirely. "But that's – why don't you send Shen to do it instead? He's much better suited for–"

"I can't speak with the easterner clearly enough to get my point across, and quite frankly I think you are much more expendable than he is." The Sergeant pointed to the knife in Norris' hand. "Now take that blade and kill her. Time to impress me."

Swallowing the lump that had just formed in his dry throat, Norris stared hard at the blade in his hand. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the yellow-robed follower of Tyr, still far off in the distance and apparently unaware of the party waiting for her ahead. Guilt was beginning to enter his heart once more, but the man knew he'd rather live in shame than die with a clear conscience.

"Sorry, miss," the ranger whispered under his breath, "Only one of us is going to outlive the day, and I don't plan on becoming nothing more than a forgotten corpse in this damned city." He reversed the blade so that it was pointed low for a downward stabbing, then held his arm slightly behind his back so the weapon couldn't be seen.

A solid frown etched on his face, the exiled ranger walked briskly back down the alley, ready to sacrifice another person's life to preserve his own.

(9:00 AM)