(Talon, Brenner, & Lyra) The Echo

[Rickter]

"Wԋҽɯ Ⴆσყ, ɳσɯ ɯԋαƚ ԃσ ɯҽ ɠσƚ ԋҽɾҽ... Lҽƚ'ʂ ʂҽҽ... Lσσƙʂ ʅιƙҽ ყσυ ʂυɾҽ ɠσƚ ιɳ α ριƈƙʅҽ, ƙιԃ. Hαɾԃ ƚσ ƚҽʅʅ ɯԋιƈԋ ɯαყ ιʂ υρ ɾιɠԋƚ ɳσɯ, ιʂɳ'ƚ ιƚ?"

"...Who... Are you!?..."

"ץєєรђ, Շคкє เՇ єครץ! เ'๓ гเﻮђՇ ђєгє кเ๔, ɭ๏๏к, ץ๏ยг รเՇยคՇเ๏ภ'ร 'ภ๏Շ ﻮ๏๏๔' คՇ Շђє ๓๏๓єภՇ. เ'๓ ﻮ๏ภภค ภєє๔ ץ๏ย Շ๏ รเ๓๓єг ๔๏ฬภ, Շคкє เՇ ภเςє คภ๔ รɭ๏ฬ, คภ๔ Շђเภк ๒คςк Շ๏ Շђє ๓๏๓єภՇ ՇђคՇ ﻮ๏Շ ץ๏ย เภՇ๏ Շђเร ๓єรร... ร๏ยภ๔ ﻮ๏๏๔?"

The Echo
77 Glade, 121; Early Evening

He had no idea how long he had last seen light of day... Rickter only knew that his mouth felt dry, after he steadily came out from the coma his fucking drink put him in last night... or the other night?

Fuck, whatever.

The wolf had no clue as to where the hell he was once he'd woken, only that a potato sack had been used to cover his head as his head was slumped forward. A twist of his wrists led him to discover the snug bond around them, which was how his form remained tied to the chair so considerably in his rest. Damn... And these sorry fuckers couldn't have just given him a hangover instead?

A loud crank lock budged to allow a door to slide open somewhere toward his left, which allowed Rickter to consider as a possible exit strategy... if he could get out. Whatever the hell they gave him really did a number on him, the wolf lacking any sense of aetheric perception at all where he sat. Footsteps clicked his way as several pairs of them shuffled momentarily, before quieting to just the one that drew closer toward his position. A brush of fabric crossed his face as his eyes winced, the wolf given sudden exposure to a lamp on a barrel, with a pair of stocky legs covered in dark leather lingered just out of his sight. "Well, shit..."

The wolf's eyes elevated to gaze at the first face of his captor, but the damned bastard was angled so that shadows cloaked his features. "...Could... use a... drink?" He croaked softly as he barely had coated his tongue upon waking, the male captor looked to nearly tilt his head sideways for a moment, but a nod gestured beyond Rickter's left shoulder revealed two things. He wasn't alone but that was already obvious, and, a flick of his hair from that nod revealed either auburn or oaken brown hair.

But this was getting him nowhere fast. Dammit. He needed a way out, he needed... A tug at the hair on his crown and he nearly hissed, the oppressor hesitant before he felt them shove the lip of a bottle or container into his mouth. Was it more of that shit they gave him!? He nearly meant to spit back at the vessel with a pull of his head, but the taste of fresh clean water crossed his lips and he hesitated. Really?! Why!? What did they have to gain by keeping him alive? Before he could think any further on that he needed to swallow, and regulate the flow before he wound up choking on the liquid. After a couple of gulps, the container was pulled away, the wolf exhaling heavily as he finally felt his mouth coated with moisture.

"You really do look like him... But how?" The dark-haired captor inquired as if Rickter knew what the hell he was talking about, the wolf could only raise his eyes in groggy confusion. "Well, suppose it doesn't matter now." From his tone he sounded disappointed but why was he so quick to dismiss it? What did this group have planned? Did they have a reason to target him? His thoughts went to Talon and immediately Rickter thought to reach out, though not before his head started to ache from his lack of connection with aether. The sack was brought back up to cover his head again, as the wolf tried a couple of times to struggle only to fail at budging at all.

When the sack brought back the musty earthen scent of darkness, Rickter's breathing elevated for a moment as he closed his eyes tightly afterward. What if they were after Talon? What if they weren't? There were too much uncertainty, too many variables and for a moment a sensation of immensity Rickter couldn't fathom quite yet. He just... He felt overwhelmed for once and suddenly, needed to be numb for just the moment, so that his headache pain would lessen and he could focus on breathing steadily out his nose.

"Whew boy, now what do we have here." A new voice in the room echoed from the walls, which led the wolf to open his eyes in the direction of the source. Or did he? Was it just his imagination? The footsteps of his captors stopped briefly before whatever door they opened before was pulled shut, the crank mechanism latching obnoxiously loud into the lock before their footsteps went into a gradual fade. "Let's see..." How? Rickter's eyes widened as he could've sworn... Was this his imagination? Was this in his head now? Was he so afraid of being alone that he started to hear voices? Could this not be though... That didn't sound like Talon nor Aoren, so Rickter had no idea how he could be hearing it. "Looks like you sure got in a pickle, kid. Hard to tell which way is up right now, isn't it?"

"...Who... Are you!?..." Rickter called out with a turn of his head, his mind desperate to figure out who this person was. He sounded male but in a more familiar manner, the tone certainly one the wolf had heard somewhere before. Yet the accent was what threw him off, as he sounded like one of the locals here in Zaichaer. Was that where he was still? Somewhere in this gods-forsaken city?

"Yeesh, take it easy! I'm right here kid!

"Here!?"

"Look your situation's not good at the moment. I'm gonna need you to simmer down, take it nice and slow, and think back to the moment that got you into this mess..." Rickter's eyes flicked from the left to the right, his headache finally dulling as he thought back to what he remembered last. There was... the dinner after another drill with Tarshenna, and then Dornkirk who came in for a drink... Why did things start to get hazy from there? "Sound good?"

"Who are you?" The wolf questioned once more after a moment of silence.

"Callen McCenry, Private Investigator... and I'm gonna find a way out of this for us, just you wait kid."

"Common" "Synskrit"
"Rickter" "Callen"

[Talon]

The Echo

77 Glade 121

He had felt it the moment that it happened. The sensation of being cut off from his bondmate had been jarring and terrifying all at once. The pain had lanced through his skull. The cold dread had twisted his stomach into knots and the absolute horror of losing that connection had made him want to scream. But he had not. He could not. There was no time for that. Across the Bond, Talon was clutching his remaining bondmate tightly to him. The two of them were as intricately bound to one another as the Bond allowed, the very core of their souls open to one another. Both of them needed it at that moment.

Talon was pacing back and forth. He was garbed in his full armor, the black material blending in with the dark of the alleyway where he stood. The sound of cloth rustling drew his attention. It was soon followed by the thud of a large figure dropping from out of the dark of the sky. A pair of black raven wings extended from this figure as he rose to his full height, standing just slight taller than Talon. A pair of infernal eyes that burned with the light of witchfires met his gaze as the figure pushed his hood back just enough to reveal his face. Aoren strode forward, the two of them touching brows briefly in greeting.

“If they have seen him, they are not talking.” Talon felt Aoren’s anger swell. The set of his jaw and the tension in his body told him everything he needed to know. This had been the last known place that Rickter had been seen.

“Let me guess, never heard of him?” Aoren clenched his jaw. “Did not see anything? What does a pigeon like you want to know for?”

The edge of Talon’s anger and contempt for the prejudices he had seen and suffered thus far in Zaichaer crept into his voice. The fact that Aoren folded his arms over his chest and would not meet his gaze confirmed that his guess of the conversation had been accurate. He took a calming breath. Over the Bond he again reached for Rickter. He probed for him, for the familiar steady presence of his wolf’s mind and soul. He was met with a blankness that did not feel empty but rather, his search simply halted abruptly.

“It’s being blocked. His Bond. Either they know it exists or they know that he is a mage.” The fires in Aoren’s eyes dimmed as he stared off into the distance.

“That means whoever did this has been observing him...and us.” Talon stopped probing for Rickter, his fists clenching at his sides as he fought the urge to scream into the dark. First Riven, whom he was forced to push out of his life because of...well...there was no sense dwelling on that. Then he nearly lost Aoren and Rickter because of his own stupidity. Now, his beloved wolf was missing. It was a moment before he realized he was trembling. Not from fear, from anger.

“Hey.” Aoren’s voice interjected his thoughts softly. He felt his bondmate’s hand upon his chin, urging him to look him in the eyes. “We will find him. I don’t think they know what they’ve gotten themselves into. A pissed off Kathar and a furious--”

It struck him then.

“That.” Aoren blinked at him, the question evident in his eyes. “I do not need the Bond to find him. I have another bond I can use to find him.”

Realization dawned on his bondmate’s face but it was soon followed by a guarded expression. The raven winged Avialae looked around, worry evident in his gaze.

“Talon…” Talon reached up to take his partner’s hands.

“I will not allow Rickter to suffer for fear of revealing the truth of who I am.” It was spoken softly and as readily as he might have commented on the weather. If hiding the truth of what had happened to him meant that someone he loved would have to suffer, the choice was easy and obvious for Talon. He met Aoren’s gaze and held it for a moment before his partner nodded. Talon turned his gaze toward the end of alleyway and then he looked further. As he extended his gaze beyond the alleyway in front of him, through the building and even beyond the physical realm of what was around them, Talon glimpsed the edge of that Other place. It existed as a thin line forever just beyond the horizon of his vision. When he chose to stare into it and extend himself beyond it, the world around him fell away as he knew it.

Talon’s vision rose higher until he could before him the hundreds, even thousands, of silver flames burning inside the many residents of the city. These people who cried out for Justice, awaiting an answer that they either found themselves or begged others to help them find. Beside him, Aoren shone like a beacon. Another shone brightly in the city, Pahoran. Then there was another that shone brighter in the distance.

“Rickter.” Talon whispered his wolf’s name. He returned to his present awareness, the vision of that Other place fading but still just within reach. He could still see the light of Rickter’s Emblem in the distance. The world around him had a silver edge to it and Talon knew that the markings upon his body had changed from their usual violet-blue to the silver-white of his demigodhood. He did not care. Rickter needed him. If that meant revealing the truth of himself, so be it.

“This way.” Talon wanted to fly but that would have been dangerous. The chances of Rickter’s captors spotting them, not to mention the possibility of being shot by one of Zaichaer’s soldiers, was risky. So Talon moved with haste but he stayed as out of sight as he was able.

Stay strong, my wolf. I am coming.

[Brenner Dornkirk]

While Brenner had little personal investment in the wellbeing of some Rathari beastman he'd only exchanged words with the prior evening, the diplomatic stakes for Zaichaer and for his personal political ambitions had him in a tizzy. He was part of the team representing Zaichaer during the summit, and he felt personally responsible for the Kalzasi delegation he'd been tending to since their arrival. It only made matters worse that he'd been present for the abduction, which could be corroborated by any number of witnesses who would recognise him as a semi-regular patron of the venue.

All of this information went into his report to the Foreign Office, which he filed in-person (and inebriated) in the wee hours of the morning when all he wanted to do was pass out back at the manor. Fortunately, bureaucracy had afforded him a few hours to return home, whilst his report made its way up the chain to the Grand Marshal's own office, and eventually orders came back down the chain and made their way by courier to Dornkirk Manor.

Brenner lifted his head from a pillow cased in silk at the sound of rapping on his bedchamber door.

"What is it?" He grumbled, "Enter." And Hochdorf, his dutiful valet, obliged. Stepping to the bedside with a missive folded up on a silver tray in his white-gloved hands.

"A telegram from the Foreign Office." Hochdorf announced as Brenner snatched the order and scanned it quickly. He sighed, unsure whether he should be relieved or further confounded by the situation in which he found himself. The good news was, it didn't seem he was being blamed for anything... yet. The bad news was, if things didn't go well in this next little addendum to his duties, he would very likely be scapegoated for whatever went awry. The best he could do was follow his orders thoroughly and hope to be of better use to the Grand Marshal alive. Failure at this level was enough to destroy his entire family, he reckoned, as he swung his legs around and rose to his feet.

"Ready a working uniform and an espresso whilst I take a whore's bath." He instructed Hochdorf, as he padded over to his bathroom to douse the necessary bits with a bit of soap and water from the basin. He was back at the scene of the crime within the hour, making a b-line from his coach to the front door at a steady clip. He nearly ploughed right into the formidable torso of the obscenely towering Kalzasern prince, as the Avialae royal was emerging from the Red Dragon Inn.

"Highness." He bowed, lower than his typical perfunctory nod of acknowledgement, "Zaichaer is horrified at this slight against the State and our illustrious guests. I am here to offer whatever aid I can, even as our constabulary has teams out across the city searching for your..." The temptation to say 'lost puppy' was almost too great to resist, but he managed, "...missing comrade. Have you already finished up here?"

[Rickter]

The Echo

77 Glade, 121

Rickter would close his eyes hard, blinking away the possibility that what he heard still might've been pure imagination. But the voice he heard that called itself "Callen McCenry" sounded as real as a genuine conversationalist, which led the wolf to suspect that another had to be in the room. That was the only real explanation he had in mind, mostly because they were the easiest to consider at the moment. Right now the voice wasn't important to Rickter, what was important was the fact he was trapped in someplace with no way of seeing. There was no way to relay his thoughts or feelings to Talon either, add in the lack of his connection to the aether, and you can imagine how numb he really needed to feel in that exact moment.

"You gonna sit there and mope, or you gonna help me get you outta there?"

"Help you?..." The wolf remarked with an irked tone as he furrowed his brows.

"Now look, I don't have hands to undo these binds. That said I know for a fact that they're using low-grade tools to do the job, think about it, classic rope on a wooden chair?"

Rickter's eyes widened with a revelation at Callen's observations, the wolf quick to fidget his wrists once more as he felt the bindings rub into his skin. They were tight as hell and given that his arms were behind the chair... An eyebrow corner tweaked higher as Rickter tilted his head, his body slowly shifted forward until he had to nudge with his upper frame. The chair he was tied to had his ankles secured to the legs as well, which made getting onto his feet extremely difficult as is without more force. However he did hear the groaning creak of wood beneath his form, and that suggested what he sat in was what had to be some type of wooden chair. "Yeeeeah, now yer catchin on! Break out of that somehow and you can get this rucksack off your mug!"

Just as he tilted his head forward Rickter felt something, a gently hushed whisper that wasn't Callen's that brushed his ear. Talon? "Hey, you good kid?" The so-called "private investigator" called his attention back to reality, the wolf's thoughts scattered but steadily aligning as he breathed steadily.

"I'm fine." The wolf thought to himself with a loose sense of confidence, more or less to confirm that this voice he heard was in his head when he did.

"Well then let's go! You've got a chair to bust and a band of thugs to ditch!" At last he could breathe a sigh of relief, having one thing confirmed out of all this nonsense he was stuck within.

"Actually this idea is half-baked. We don't know how many there are, much less what their intentions at the moment."

"So what, you're just gonna sit there!?" Callen didn't sound too thrilled by the sound of that implication.

"Fuck no," He barked without hesitation, "but we need a plan of action if we're gonna survive."

"So what, you thinkin' goin' out with a bang then? Got an idea you're just waitin' to spill?"

"Actually yes, but it's risky..." If Callen were to fall silent in anticipation of what it was, this was probably one of those moments where the silence was an awkward relief for the wolf. But rather than dwell on that he focused instead on this idea, his head rolled back as he closed his eyes to concentrate for a few seconds. "I'm counting on you." He believed in his Bondmates more than anything, for he always would, but right now he needed to believe in more for once. He needed to believe in Arcas and the power he shared, in the will of a promise that superseded his own life. As he reached out with his thoughts he felt his Emblem thrum on his forearm, before a fiery sensation radiated from within his core throughout his body. There came the last few thoughts of alignment he needed, a sluggish clarity found to them as he ascertained the situation at hand.

The moment this chair broke they would likely come running, ready to subdue him or even put him down, though not before he gave them the last bit of hell he could. That wasn't to disregard his environment either, once he figured out where he was he could hopefully look for the entrance. A quick tuck at that point would give him the initiative to get a sneak attack in, though there was also the possibility of being able to hide as well. It was hard to gauge where things would go from that point, which meant there was only one way to go from here, and the rest would have to be determined after he made his move. His eyes opened for a moment as he braced himself with one deep breath, his head tilted forward once more as he then focused on shifting. Constrained in a chair like this it felt impossible but that was only because of the restraints, sure he couldn't shift into Beast Form without snapping a couple of limbs out of place... but there was honestly a much more sufficient way to go about this. Still difficult but certainly not so strenuous in comparison.

He couldn't help but growl as he felt his skin prickle intensely now, the fiery sensation soft but building with gradual intensity as his bones started to grind. "Wh-wha? Whattya doin? What's?" Callen's blatant concern and anxiety weren't helping, therefore, Rickter ignored him as he breathed in tighter to brace for the moment, where he felt the snug bindings tighten against his flesh. His musculature structure started to spasm as the shift led to their expansion, the cotton shirt he still wore the night he went out shredding in patches from the tension it suffered. The lower half of his trousers did the same as claws poked through the toes of his boots, just as the bindings themselves finally snapped from his wrists and ankles after the incredible tension. The arms of the chair felt as though they were squeezing his outer thighs as the rest of his frame grew in size. The chair having to deal with such a hefty increase in weight also snapped underneath him, the wooden piece of furniture caved in, the wolf having only a grunt to spare when his rump hit the broken pile between him and the floor.

Wow, Rickter actually broke out of that... While it seemed that the easy part was actually accomplished though, the harder part of this escape plan came next, for the wolf had to turn over to scramble onto his feet quickly. With a clawed hand brought up to yank the sac off from his mug, the wolf's pointed ears perked up as his muzzle pointed quickly around the room. Columns and rows of crates, barrels, practically any type of container used for shipping were around him, as he looked to be amidst the center of a warehouse from just the low lighting visible in his area.

"Common" "Synskrit"
"Rickter" "Callen"

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

[Talon]

The Echo

77 Glade 121

Talon got a grand total of three steps before he was nearly plowed into by a uniformed soldier of Zaichaer. His agitation flared for a moment before he realized who it was. Air Commander Brenner Dornkirk looked tired. There were circles under his eyes that told him he had not slept or at least he had not slept well. He listened to the words that came from the man’s mouth and it was all Talon could do to not snap at the man. He was in no mood for the man’s platitudes. He looked upon Brenner not with the eyes of a mortal but with the silver eyes of the patron of Justice. Into his very soul, Talon could see the spark of flames that burned within the hearts of all those he beheld. There was a dissonance between what he saw compared to Talon’s own perceptions. He could see that inside of Brenner burned a desire to uphold the Law and ensure just rewards were visited upon those who opposed the State of Zaichaer but there was a cold edge to what Talon could perceive. It was something familiar to him and yet it was strange all the same. He likened this to being largely unfamiliar with the Zaichaeri notion of what Justice was. It meant that Talon did not entirely know what Brenner’s motivations were, if he had them at all.

Nevertheless, Talon saw it. Just as clearly as he saw the man standing in front of him. He leaned in so that he could more clearly stare the Air Commander in the face. Talon was more than angry. He was terrified that something was going to happen to Rickter before he could find him. He was furious that this happened on Brenner’s watch or at least under his nose from what he understood. The world in his vision was lined with a silver edge to it. Unlike normally, there was a steely chill to what he saw that reminded him of the icy rage he had unleashed in the Warrens, a rage that had decimated everything around him. He felt Aoren touch upon their bond, helping to soothe some of that anger. If only so he did not take it out on Brenner...yet. His jaw flexed for a moment as he collected himself before speaking.

“If Rickter is harmed, Commander Dornkirk, Zaichaer’s horror will be the least of the perpetrator’s concerns.” Talon swept past Brenner, his eyes focused on the horizon as he zeroed in on the light of his beloved wolf’s Emblem. The beacon that tied Rickter to him continued to shine in the night within his vision. As he walked he kept his awareness more lucid so as to catch a glimpse of any that might draw his attention.

“We are done at the pub, Commander. I can sense where he is.” As he spoke, Talon felt a ripple across his senses. He felt Rickter, he felt him more strongly than he had before. It was as if he were extending his hand, reaching out to the well of power that burned inside of Talon. The sensation brought Talon to a halt momentarily. He closed his eyes and focused on the man who was reaching out to him. In his mind he saw Rickter’s hand extended. Talon grasped it firmly answering the question for silent help.

My strength is yours, my wolf. Use it and be safe.

In his mind’s eye he saw darkness but he could not tell whether that was because Rickter was seeing darkness or if his vision was somehow being blocked. He frowned, opening his eyes. The beacon in his vision was still there but Talon’s worry increased. If Rickter was calling upon the gift of his Emblem...that did not bode well.

“Wait here.” He spoke over his shoulder as he spread his wings. Talon crouched then leapt into the air, using the powers of Seeming to entwine the flow of his aether into the air above him. Once he was clear of buildings he flapped his wings, hovering in place as he oriented himself to where they were. He followed the light of the Emblem’s beacon, his gaze settling upon the district it appeared to be coming from. Once it was in sight, Talon lowered himself, dropping to the ground in a crouch.

“He is toward the river.” Looking to Brenner, Talon rest his hands at the small of his back. “What is the most likely place he would be held in that area? Have your authorities received any sort of a note? A ransom?”

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Over the course of the time Brenner had spent in Talon's company, he'd built up some semblance (not that kind) of comfort with the foreign prince. He might have been a great big pidge, he might have been a mage (or something far greater), but he'd been kind, respectful, even deferential at times. They might have had their disagreements... a lot of disagreements, granted, but even when they argued their cases before the backdrop of a Zaichaeri sunset the prior evening, it hadn't grown heated or vitriolic on either of their parts. As far as Brenner was concerned, Talon seemed like 'one of the good ones'. He'd seen little of the mage and nothing of the monster he'd expected... until now.

There was something in the alien glow that emanated from eyes of unearthly silver that chilled Brenner to the bone. Abject terror revealed itself in his widening ice blue eyes, stripping him of his usual guile and casting off his mask of cordiality, as Talon loomed over him like some preternatural predator. All at once, he was reminded of what he knew of Talon and his ilk and, at the same time, he couldn't help but comprehend from whence those ghastly rumours had derived. He hadn't truly believed it yesterday when the matter had been broached, but in this moment it felt like a certainty that this was a creature which had been graced to blight the world. He pushed down the terror, clenching his teeth and staring straight back into Talon's otherworldly gaze, reflecting back some pale shadow of that which was directed at him.

"If a crime has been committed on Zaichaeri soil," He rasped through grinding teeth, "The horrors are ours to wreak, unless Your Highness would like me to broach extradition with our Foreign Office." Brenner felt a rush of adrenaline at standing his ground before a wrathful, emotive demi-deity and hazarding to remind him of the matter of jurisdiction. It might have been brave, it might have been daft, but if he died here and now for being brazen, his family would doubtless be spared the Grand Marshal's scorn. He was fortified in the knowledge that his death might serve as the casus belli he'd spent his life awaiting and render him the martyr to that righteous cause.

When Talon's eyes broke from Brenner's, the Air Commander let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding in. He let his weight fall back on one foot, and he glanced to a pair of constables who'd been sent to meet him. They stood with their hands ready at the holsters on their hips, but Brenner gestured for them to stand down and to approach him, whilst Talon took to the air.

"Eyes on me." Brenner reminded the policemen as their gazes naturally darted to the sight of a soaring giant leaping skyward, "I want The Order of Reconciliators updated on our progress. I anticipate an over display of magic, which could stir unrest amongst disgruntled mages and incite a rebellion. If possible, we should work to evacuate an areas where the prince will be-... Fuck, he's coming back down." Brenner turned on his heel and returned to Talon,

"I've received no word of a ransom, Highness, but as to probable locations along the river we were tipped off to a few shady characters matching the descriptions I gave last night in the vicinity of The Sweatshop on the East End. There are any number of storage and warehouses thereabouts that could easily serve as their headquarters." Brenner cast a pointed glance to one of the constables, at the mention of the locale, so he could carry out his prior command to inform the Order.

[Rickter]

Within a cleared room decorated with only a few tables and empty shelves, there were five people present there preparing for what was essentially an execution. "That is crazy though," Marko remarked as he stroked the chin hairs of his oaken red goatee, "I've never seen anything like it."

"Low gene pool probably." Barley remarked with a shrug of his head as he inspected his crossbow, more or less passing the time as their newest addition returned from outside.

"The watch hasn't let up yet, we may have to just finish the job and leave it here."

"We were told to dump his body in the river," Eadra spat bitterly with a heavy look of aggravation to the younger man, "now we can't even finish the job because the watch is still out there?"

"You know the bastard he looks like went out that way," Marko weighed as if everyone else were interested in the conversation, "that damn bloke was something else lemme tell you. Never seen a bloodhound like him since-"

Barley growled with a graze of his hand over his bald head, as it was his turn to look aggravated when he glared at Barley. "Nobody gives a shit! The sooner we off this one, the quicker we can get out of here before-" A loud pair of clangs and bangs were heard from within the other room, the group suddenly jerked into their alert positions as Barley looked toward their newest member. Certainly, a younger boy who looked barely older than twenty, the fuzz on his cheeks barely even saturated with color as he looked nervously to his superior. With a snap of the finger and a point to the door, the bald man gestured for the younger blonde to take point and open the door. Eadra wasn't one to take her chances this time around as she moved to a weighty rucksack, quick to pilfer through it for something within as her hooded rogue companion stood close by.

They were the furthest from the door and closest to the entrance, useful information when it helped one to place Barley the Bald centerfold within the room, with Marko next to him as he pulled a steel studded mace from his waist. The blonde pulled up the bar to disengage the lock, before he slid the door open with a few quick and eager steps. The sliding door banged against the wall as everyone peered straight into the other room, the tattered pile of the wooden chair left with the potato sack at the center of the warehouse stock. "Nothing!?"

"Nice work kid, but you might've tried finding a window by now!?" Callen complimented with an earnest tone and emphasis on the escape plan.

"Shh!" Rickter urged as he needed total silence both internal and external, for this part heavily relied on the element of surprise and for that, the beast needed every ounce of focus on his enemies.

"He's gone?!" Marko called out with astonishment in his tone, as the wolf could literally smell the tension thickening in the other room.

"He couldn't have! He's still in there somewhere!" Eadra quickly stated as the wolf's ears perked upward at the remark.

"She's clever..." A footstep tapped near the door on the otherside, followed by a hesitant second that echoed closer to the open threshold. "This one though..." One final step and Rickter elevated his elbow by several degrees, the claw clenched into a balled fist as he breathed briskly for just a moment, before the brief intake of air was immediately exhaled with a thrust of his arm. His arm went barreling through the wooden paneling of the warehouse door, his whole forearm and lower half of the bicep wrenched through as he grappled for either a head or a shoulder. What do you know, his hand found a perfectly melon-shaped object to grasp. "Is not." Immediately screams bounced from the walls of the other room, as a loud snap of a twine clicked to send a crossbolt flying. The tip pierced the paneling with a loud thwap as Rickter jerked his head back in alert, a brief snarl given as he pulled his arm straight and threw it into a pull back into the wall.

The wolf didn't hold any of his strength or intent back, not when it came to having the lower hand here. There were six against one and by Gods, he would make every move count, because all that stood between him and survival was a mere kick of instinct. The head of the one he grasped came bashing hard into the wood, as Rickter felt something else hurdle into his arm, something sharp as it pierced its way into the taut sinew of his flesh. It wasn't there... He wasn't hurting. The wolf would not let himself recognize it for what it was, because the lad in his grasp might've stopped with the screaming, but he still fidgeted and that indicated a living threat he could not afford. So with one final throw of his arm, he smashed the blonde's head into the door once more, the wood splintering as a couple more screams filled the room in horror.

Rickter heard the tugging of wire as a spring latched into place, his ears perked away now as he quickly released the grip he had, and pulled his arm back through the hole he created. Whatever had stabbed his forearm, it did the damnedest job of being a thorn pricked there, for the collision of the door's wood against the blade caused it to cut just a bit further; before a twist of his arm allowed the handle to pull through as well. "The FUCK IS HE!?" Marko cried out as Rickter pulled back toward the edge of the door, his clawed hands brought up to grasp the edges and attempt a pull. His right forearm throbbed and felt both hot and cold when he started, but still he ignored the fact it attempted to bother him, right now the one thing he needed was time and he didn't have it. Thus with a throw of his shoulders into the push, the door slid to a clangy shut as the slam caused the lock to reengage moments later.

"Fuckin' bastard!!!" Barley cried out over his crossbow as the rogue pulled another dagger out from his boot, and Eadra looked among her companions still aware of the other problem on their hands.

"Common" "Synskrit"
"Rickter" "Callen"

[Talon]

The Echo

77 Glade 121

Talon waited briefly for Brenner to issue his commands to the constabulary that had accompanied him. He eyed the footsoldiers with a level of disinterest that stemmed from the rising level of impatience building up inside of him. He recognized the importance of avoiding as much of an international incident as possible but his tolerance for the diplomacy of it was wearing thin. The Order of Reconciliators was to be notified. That unnerved him to a degree. The increased presence of Zaichaeri forces in the immediate area could very well tip off Rickter’s captors that they had identified their location. While that was an inevitability, there was something to be said for the element of surprise and an air of swiftness.

“We will get there in time, Talon.” His bondmate spoke softly, coming to stand beside him.

“There was no ransom.” Talon’s voice was strained. Aoren nodded his head beside him. “They made no demands.”

Again, Aoren nodded. The notion of abduction was not new to the Great Houses of Kalzasi. His homeland was not a utopia and kidnappings had occurred in the past. From what he knew of such things, when a ransom was made and demands were presented, the likelihood that the victim was being held alive was much greater. A living incentive was a much greater carrot to dangle when the threat of killing them for not bowing to demands lingered in the air. When demands were not made? There were times when all the Sky Guard found was a corpse, cold and very much dead. Talon had given everything to protect his bondmates when they were nearly killed in the Warrens. It was that event that had led to his rebirth. He was ready to give even more to ensure he did not lose either of them.

“I would caution you to stifle your fear of the aetheric, Commander. You are likely to see and experience rather potent manifestations of it tonight. Whoever took Rickter is either exceptionally powerful themselves or has very strong tools capable of warding off magic. Rickter is one of the more powerful mages in my entourage.” Talon peered closely into the weave of Brenner’s aura. He observed the fluctuations in the man’s mood, gauging the caliber of his nerves based on his emotional state. The man was a trained military officer, Talon was not surprised to see a steadiness to it even with some level of turmoil rumbling beneath the surface.

“You--” Talon’s head snapped in the direction of Rickter. He felt keenly the power of his Emblem weaving itself into the muscles of his bondmate’s body. Pain rippled across Talon’s senses, hot, cold, biting and sharp. Every muscle in Talon’s body flexed in tension.

“We are out of time.” The feathers of his wings bristled as he realized that whatever clock they were one, was quickly running out of time. He did not wait. He did not have to speak aloud his intentions to his raven winged companion, Aoren already knew. His partner spread his wings. Talon did not wait for permission, he reached out, grabbed Brenner, spread his wings and shot forth into the skies.

Extending his senses across the aether flux, Talon wrapped his kinetic grip around the three of them. He grasped the flow of the flux around them and then propelled them through the air at a much faster speed than they would normally fly on their own. He held Brenner closely but carefully, ignoring the man’s protests as they sped toward the warehouse district. It was only when they were approaching it that Talon slowed them. He brought them to a halt above the warehouse where shone the light of Rickter’s Emblem. He dropped to the ground, using his wings to control his descent. As soon as his feet were on the solid earth, he released the Air Commander.

It was a non-descript building. A warehouse like any other that was assembled along the river that flowed through Zaichaer. Outwardly, there was nothing to say that it was being used as the den of a group of people intent on hurting or even killing someone Talon loved. He stared at the building as though he could simply demolish it through sheer force of will alone. Talon had a feeling, if he truly wanted to, he could accomplish exactly that. The muscles in his jaw flexed.

“I will give them one chance.” His eyes shifted to stare at Brenner. “If they attack, I will not hold back.”

Talon strode forward. He opened his aetheric senses. Across the aether flux he extended his awareness. He wove it together with his gift of Semblance, using it to glean insight into the potential people who lurked inside. The world illuminated in his vision. The warehouse became a blanket of smokey wisps, the wood used to build it emanating an echo of the trees they had once been. Inside, Talon beheld several rooms, within which he could make out at least twelve figures...and Rickter. Their aura’s were feint due to the interference of several walls between him and them. He could not make out the details of their emotions or even a glimpse of their intent using his magic alone. But it was enough to be given a sliver of insight as to what awaited him. He dismissed his heightened perceptions after sharing the image of what he saw with his bondmate.

“Twelve. Posted throughout the interior. Rickter is deeper inside. Alive. For now.” Aoren folded his arms over his chest as Talon raised his voice.

“I will say this only once.” Talon’s voice echoed in the night. “Give him to me alive and unharmed and I shall forgive your trespass against me. Refuse...and I will come for him.”

"I am Justice."

[Brenner Dornkirk]

Brenner stood back and stood by, as the pigeon prince worked his way through the cogent probability that his friend was already dead or would be soon. The Air Commander had no idea whether the twain bore some fell, eldritch connection that would alert the birdman to the wellbeing of the wolfman. If that were so, then perhaps Rickter really had survived the day. If not... Brenner would have to brace himself to see more of that arcane ire Talon had directed at him moments earlier, unsettling him to a point he'd never before breached.

His reveries on these matters came to an abrupt end, when Talon turned back to address him with a warning.

"When a man has seen such blighted horrors called forth from your 'aetherium' as I have, his fear is righteous, but don't concern yourself with my state-of-mind. My fear is a tool, not a handicap. I am its master, and I work well under pressure." He did, cast a glance to the men of the Watch at Talon's forecast of a great deal of magical activity impending. The warning complemented Brenner's orders, and meant that the need for Reconciliators on-hand would be that much more important. Beyond whatever damage their witchcraft might wreak, there was also the matter of the roiling wroth of the Zaichaeri populace to consider. If some over display of sorcery were to light the skies of the city, it could rouse ambition on all sides of the divide and lead to riot in the streets from mages and their opponents alike. He thought to append his orders to encourage an evacuation of the area, but before the thought could be phonated he felt a strong arm encircling him.

"What the-..." And up they went. Brenner's eyes went wide as the buildings before him became a blur and the cool, evening air whipped his hair and reddened the parts of his face that hadn't gone ghostly white. A stream of guttural, Kathar curses were hurled forth from his throat. It was not an altogether unfamiliar sensation. It felt a bit like a leap with the rocket-pack Stefan had designed for him, but they were going faster than that and for longer than its charge permitted. The most important and operative contrast with the rocket pack was, of course, that Brenner was in control of the apparatus whereras he was completely at Talon's mercy at the moment. It felt like a violation- to be swept up, unconsenting, into whatever magicks augmented the power of his wings.

After the initial reflexive horror began to wane, the Air Commander (by definition accustomed to great heights) felt a rush of euphoria supplant the terror. He wasn't afraid, anymore, and his racing heart pumped out of excitement instead. It was a view of Zaichaer he'd never enjoyed, and it was a sensation he'd never really experienced- No Zaichaeri had. For a moment, he felt like the king of the world. But, when that moment passed, he resented Talon for being the one to deliver it unto him.

The whole experience, however long it had been, felt like it lasted an instant and then Talon alighted and he was released onto unsteady feet. He held his arms out for balance and staggered a few steps to a lamppost, resting a hand against it to stabilise himself as Talon spoke.

Brenner looked up at him with determination in his icy eyes and steely voice:

"I will urge you to consider the laws of this land and that greater consequences are at stake than the life of a single Rathari. Does one life matter more than the thousands who might perish if you fail to restrain yourself, just because he happens to be one of your favourites?" Brenner didn't expect to sway Talon with reason, but he would have hated himself if he failed to try. Still and all, when Talon trod forth to engage with the captors of his pet, Brenner drew his ZADF-issued pistol and followed behind him with clear eyes and cautious steps.

You're in the crucible now, Brenner, he thought to himself taking a steadying breath and keeping his head low as they entered the warehouse.

[Rickter]

Eadra had drawn her own dagger from her waist now, her expression caught in a scowl as she watched the body of the red-painted blonde droop to the floor. Having nothing to support him save for the door, which moved moments after the beast beyond pulled it's arm out, their newest to the group had wound up nothing more than a ragdoll with a bloodied bent in face.

And now? Just as she and the rogue turned to listen to the voices outside, Markos and Barley screamed as the bald-headed man himself swore continuously at the damned creature. Yet it had been injured though, she had seen her comrades dagger when he'd thrown it at the beast.

Barely of course was never that bad of a shot, and yet still, even he allowed his panic to cloud his judgment when he fired that damn crossbolt. Eadra here seemed to be the only one clearly focused on her goal, and that was to put down a target that she had been glad to silence. What was one greenhorn among their ranks? There was still time to finish the job, though that window of opportunity had grown slimmer by the sound of a voice that called out to them not long after things quieted again.

Rickter had shifted back from the sliding door he'd forced close, his left claw wrapped around his forearm as he felt the blade linger between his fingers. He wanted nothing more than to yank the damned piece of metal out of him, yet time was of the essence and he couldn't afford to waste any of it. Thus when he pulled back toward the second row of crates piled, he hid behind them for a moment to perk his ears toward the door. Wait a second... Was he hearing Talon's voice from beyond?

"I will say this only once." The faint echo of a tone he knew brought his lungs to swell with hopeful air then, as he knew Talon was just outside and waiting for this band of thugs to surrender. "Give him to me alive and unharmed and I shall forgive your trespass against me. Refuse...and I will come for him." There was that curtain of relief that he just wanted to embrace, and yet the wolf knew he couldn't allow himself to just yet, because no matter how powerful Talon was he still was just a mortal man. Well, half mortal, but still a mortal regardless. Though the wolf had no doubts about his power and capabilities at all, there was the fact that time and odds were not in either of their favor this time. They had Rickter trapped and the enemy was now cornered, and that meant things were about to get desperate which never led to anything good.

"Oh, I think they're serious..." Markos remarked with a concerned peek out the side of the window, while Barley pulled him away quickly with a few low curses spat to him.

"There's still time to finish this," the Siltori muttered venomously as she too recognized the tone of that voice, "Lark, get our exit ready. I'm gonna blow this dump." When she looked to her hooded companion his head shifted to face her, a slight drawback found in his shoulders as though the bloodlust in her eyes sparked a genuine chill. Eadra would not walk away from this empty-handed if she could, she would finish the mission whatever the cost, and that is what intimidated the others as well when the rogue nodded his head in turn.

"The hell?!" Barley muttered lowly as the rogue stepped through another doorway further into the warehouse. "What kinda fucked up plan you got in that elven brain of yours Eadra!?"

"Just focus, and make sure you get the shot this time." The Siltori demanded lowly with her eyes glanced toward the door. "I'm going to buy you the time we need to get it done." Barley looked to her confused but after she took a bolt out from the pouch at his belt, she popped a cork from the bottle she'd held so that she could lower the tip down into an emerald green substance that resided within. When she handed the bolt back to Barley she nodded for the same door the rogue went through, before lowering to pick up a few bottle that glowed a liquid cerulean. Barley primed his crossbow once more as he gestured for Markos to follow him, until Eadra was the last one in the room with the first of the three bottles held in her left arm. With her sight set on the lock mechanism she threw the flask at the door, and caused the container to shatter as her concoction within reacted to the impact. Immediately upon contact the cerulean substance splashed all over the door and it's frame, before turning into a solid sheet of ice three seconds after it had settled there.

As she heard the footsteps of the wolf's damned cavalry draw nearer, she quickly raced through the doorway behind her peers, with the structure slammed shut just moments before Talon and Brenner came to enter the room. Another smash of glass and once more, ice began to coat the other side of the threshold. She knew it wouldn't buy them much time given his damnable kinetic power, but by gods, Eadra was determined to by her companions enough time to pull this off.

As Rickter had flinched from the shatter of glass against the door, his eyes widened as he witnessed the reaction of ice condensate through the wood. So the bastards had magic on their side too huh? Well, now he really felt fucked. "Well what now kid?" Not him again... not now... Just as he didn't want to deal with this Callen character just yet, a patter of footsteps echoed from further within the warehouse toward his right. "Kid behind you!" He didn't need to hear that. Rickter could've heard the damned bastard approach if Callen would just shut the hell up, and yet the moment he was warned the wolf quickly spun to thrust his right claw forward. A dark-haired man came forth within the dark of the room, a loud and pained groan quick to replace the confident huff he'd made when he attempted to lunge toward the wolf. Long and dark fingers became coated with red as the tips of his nails tore into the flesh of his gut, the wolf quickly using his left hand to parry the thrusted blade away from him as the body tumbled to the floor.

"There's more?!" His mind started to race with adrenaline now as the asshole he downed groaned out in pain, his arms wrapped over the area where the wolf had stabbed now that the wolf had retracted his arm. Another set of patters and with a few bangs of cookware from somewhere behind him, Rickter found that he was being assailed by two more thugs in the dark. One threw themselves at him with a saber thrusted down, though Rickter was able to pull back enough to swipe his left arm at him. The second however slipped past his defense as he flanked the wolf from the right, and stepped in to slice at the back of his right thigh as the wolf knocked the first into a pile of crates. The loud commotion called for everyone else to stir into action then, as Rickter growled out lowly before muffling the noises with deep, intense breathing. Not here. No pain. Not for them and certainly not before...

Little did Rickter suspect that while he did everything to fight off his new oppressors, Barley entered the room with his crossbow pointed out, with a line of sight made for the wolf before he took aimed at the large mass that fought within the warehouse.

"Common" "Synskrit"
"Rickter" "Callen"