Bluebirch

“I can certainly try,” Fiona says with a firm nod. “There’s a lotta ways to do it, we just have to pick one and hope it works. If not, well, bribes work for some. There’s plenty of ways to hunt a mongoose,” she adds with a shrug. “Besides, you’re beaten beyond recognition at this point, wouldn’t be hard to pass some other dead person as you. Just need your clothes.” She puts her hands on her hips again as she stops and looks back at him. “These guys have bigger fish to catch than you, buddy. The people who they’ll send are probably just going to be some low ranking folk who are desperate to make a name for themselves, and desperation is weak to coin.”

She chuckles as she begins walking again, thinking back on all the bribes she had handed out over the years to keep people quiet, or off her tail, or for information. Most times it was coin that worked, and not a whole lot of it, much to her surprise, but the other times? Well, she had other things to offer. Thus is the illustrious career of one such as Fiona.

Fiona opened her mouth to protest, saying she wasn’t at the bloody in, but the scream cuts them both off. Immediately she adopts a ready stature, a dagger in one hand, her hand-crossbow in the other, both ready to be used at less than a moment’s notice. Her ears prick up as she points her head in the direction of the scream, her heart beginning to race. “So it begins,” she mumbles before her brows knit in a tight frown. “And this is why you don’t create monsters. I swear, everyone should read a story book or something once in their life, it’s all there!”

She darts off, gesturing for him to follow. “Yes!” she calls out, her mind focusing on the task at hand and moving towards a good speed, but making sure not to outpace Mouse by too much. “We have to stop this thing before morning,” she calls back. “If light is such an issue!”

Task one. Find the beast, that shouldn’t be too hard if people are screaming about it now. Task two. Find the Blackcoats, which shouldn’t be too hard either if they’re half as smart as Mouse made them out to be, they should be heading in the same direction.
Task three, make introductions and slip away to watch from a distance.
Task four. Reap the glory.

Not bad for a night’s work. But when does a plan ever come together?

If they both made it out of here alive, well that would be a fine outcome.

“Well, lets hope the locust kills the Blackcoats so you won’t need to worry about them anymore,” Fi says before she turns a corner, panting lightly under her cloth scarf. “We’ll deal with that later, come on!” Of course that added an extra level of difficulty to the problem at hand. Hey, maybe the Blackcoats will be so happy for the assistance that they’ll give him his freedom in exchange. Who knows? “Big Mouse,” she finally corrects.

“Another choice, a real one this time,” she says as she stops at the screaming woman, her mind racing, yet remained focused. “Either stay here and help the woman, or come help me track the beast. I can’t guarantee your freedom if you stay, but you never know. Make your decision quick, because I’m going after him.”

With that, she sets off again at a jog, now knowing where the beast is, and how to track it through the mud. It gives Mouse enough time to make the decision, but not enough time to spend dilly-dallying. Quite frankly, if he was to be killed by the Blackcoats, she would likely be able to live with herself, but right now, she’d rather the help, even if he was just to bait the Locust instead of fight. Anyone with a decent pair of legs could do it.

Now, how to get its attention and where to lead the Blackcoats… hmm…

“That's one way to eliminate the competition…” Fiona murmurs to herself, wondering if she may have known the thief previously, but if he is, or more accurately was, stealing from the little people, there's no way they would have known each other. Fiona kept company with only the finest and most brash of thieves, not petty robbers. “Poor man.”

She goes to speak again when they're interrupted, causing her to spin with a start, ready for anything. Okay, there's the Blackcoats, didn't have to go find them now, sweet, excellent, great to see. Now, time to think fast, because they were now in a little hot water. Time to open that pretty mouth and be as smooth as possible.

“First of all, Blackcoated fellows, touch me and I'll cut your hand off,” she says, opening up a friendly dialogue. Smooth.

“Second, I don't know what youre talking about. I found this man in an alleyway in a panic, how was I to know he escaped your clutches?” They had no proof that she had let him out, she's certain of that. She could be a street urchin for all they knew, her clothing was so soaked it would be hard to discern quality.

“And thirdly,” she says, not entirely certain that is an actual word, but she puts her hands on her hips for confident emphasis. “Why are you more concerned with arresting this guy for some reason, and not capturing or killing that man who just killed that would-be thief over there? Your priorities are as silly as your coats,” she says with a sneer.

“Now, the five of us will fare better about that thing than two of you, I say two because I know if you arrest me without leaving a guard, I will escape, I will guarantee you that now.” She tilts her head a little in a questioning manner. With her face covered, she found it the best way to convey her attitude.

“So, do you want to do the smart thing and help me and Mouse man here fix your little mistake, then let us go as if nothing happened? Because quite frankly there won't be much to talk about after tonight other than the band of friends who killed a serial killer. Or, do you want to try and arrest us, using up precious time, energy, and risking injury?” The woman turns, tugging on Mouse's sleeve.

“I know you'll make the smart play, so let's go get this done, and live to not tell the tale, and instead drown the night away with many alcoholic beverages, and a toast to our freedom and courage and the empire, or whoever you serve.”

She turns and walks backwards for a moment. “Time's ticking, boys. The more time you waste being ego stroking nonces, the more damage this thing'll cause, and the more people will see it and talk.”

Fiona is quick to set off after them, pacing them easily with her lighter build. “Free to go, you said it, can't stop me from joining in,” she claims as she catches up just a moment later. “These are my streets after all, if you guys fail this thing'll be after me too.”

She looks to Mouse next, then to the others, feeling just a bit of sympathy for the man. She couldn't go back on her word. “You can't have him either, he's mine.” The woman says as she runs. “He's helping me kill that thing, which is my priority, unlike some people who would rather round up nobodies with tall tales.”

Fiona doesn't get much time to talk though, seeing as the alley was not too far away. “By the way,” she says, looking to the last one of them to speak. “Knowing the sound of a knee joint being ripped loose is really really creepy. I'm surprised you ever get laid.”

As they reach the alley, she pulls out her knife and hand crossbow, ready to join the four in the fray. “Let's do this. And I mean lets, because I'm helping. End of story.”

“Poaching applies to animals,” Fiona grumbles as the man drones on and on about responsibilities, empire this, empire that, yadda yadda, boring stuff to her. Of course he would want to keep whatever monster this is alive, like the good little imperial lap dog he is, begging for a treat and a scratch behind the ear from their commander. Fiona makes it a personal goal to find out who’s in command of these Blackcoats and rob them blind. “That’s a man eating another man. Isn’t cannibalism punishable by death? Especially if its a ‘wild man from the forest’, or whatever imperial lie you guys come up with.”

“And I’ll touch you in a minute, mate, if you don’t drop that high and mighty shit. Blackcoats or fleabitten hobo coats, I’m not having it.”

But, of course, everyone has to be quiet now, making her swallow the rest of her undoubtedly witty and clever remarks, mostly about him not satisfying his wife, and her offer to do it for him for the right price. Perhaps that’ll come later. To see the look on his smug mug would be oh so delicious.

Like the others, she draws her knives and waits behind them. She had that gut feeling that capturing this brute won’t be easy, and one of them is likely to die. Maybe there’ll be a scuffle, and a few well placed knife swings, enough to kill the thing, or the Blackcoats, without rousing too much suspicion.

As for Mouse, well, she had bigger things to deal with. He really hadn’t impressed her so far, in fact now would be the perfect time for him to run, but, at the end of the day, he seemed content to sit and wet himself. She does look to him and jerks her head down the alley, as if to say “Way’s clear. Up to you.”

The woman just nods. She’d smooth things over with the surviving Blackcoats, if any of them do survive later. She could think of a million reasons why he’s gone, she just hoped he could get far enough, quickly enough, and more importantly quietly enough. Surely he had the intelligence to never speak of this night again? Fiona felt she had made that clear so far, so should she never see Mouse again, he’d know to hush up. Keep his head down. Make a life for himself elsewhere.

Back to the action though, she watches as the Blackcoats do their thing. These are the tactics of bagmen, the dissident’s boogiemen, the ones who go bump in the night. She always pictured them as being quiet, more tactful, instead of running their mouth like a regular old guardsmen. Or, perhaps they were a different thing all together and have just been trained by the bagmen.

Either way, the bagmen would never get the best of Fiona, she decided that a long while ago.

Her eyes go wide in horror as she watches the bizarre almost-man twist and deform like that, and the first Blackcoat go down. It was blind anyway, so she didn’t quite get the idea of putting a bag over its head in the first place. To protect against its bite? If it could rend human flesh, it could rend a bag. That meant it relied on smell and sound. Which is good for Fiona, because she’s silent.

She digs into her utility belt and pulls out a small glass bauble filled with greenish yellow liquid, about the size of a thumbprint, but the skull on the front of the glass warned it may be potent. Just the way she likes it. Her silence meant it wouldn’t find her sound. Smell though? The woman waits until the Blackcoats were far enough away before throwing the stink bomb at the nearest, hardest object, and waits for it to smash and release its smelly payload.

As it sails through the air though, she gestures to the others to keep quiet, hoping they get the picture. Leaving the creature without sight, without smell, and only sound would be of the greatest advantage.

Then, as a bit of good measure, she lifts her hand crossbow and takes aim at the creature’s head, or where it would be under the cloth. They could try capture it if they wanted, but Fiona? Well, she was a person of the people, surely. She had not a care in the world for the secret, underbellied activities of the Empress and her precious Empire. If the Empire didn’t keep the people safe? She would. While stealing from the richer bunch. Why not?

Thwip!

Whoops, missed… but did it? Fiona decides that no, it didn’t, and yes, it was intentional. Sort of. Mostly. Lets just run with it. She goes to say something, mostly ‘shut up’, but the Locust cut her off by pouncing on the man. Before she can do much about it though, the other Blackcoat had sprung into action. Would she put a dagger into the locust? Would she claim its an accident?

No, lets see how this pans out.

“It was trying to remove the bag,” she hisses at the Blackcoat. “If it had, you’d have teeth to worry about. But no, instead of thanking me for hitting that thing in the neck and pinning the bag down so you only have to worry about arms and claws, which you’ve pinned down easily, you decide to berate me, the woman who’s smart enough to notice it can't see because of the bag. Can’t see, can’t smell now because of me, that only leaves sound, which your friend here,” she jabs a thumb at the injured Blackcoat who she hopes it helping the dying one. “Doesn’t seem to realise. His wife must hate him for being so damn arrogant.”

She reloads her crossbow as she walks and sneers at the others, making sure that next time she doesn’t miss. “How about a little gratitude for the help, huh? You pissheads might have the brawn, but it seems I have the only brain in this equation.”

“As for that thing,” the woman says, pointing at the locust in absolute disgust. “It should be destroyed, wherever it came from, not captured. Take it to your little researchers as a corpse, study it that way. The only reason I can see for taking it back alive is in hopes to make more, and as a citizen of this Empire, I am abjectly horrified at that idea. Its a cruel, senseless thing that can only from the most unholy sources, you should be looking for cultists. Only the most evil would ever make something like this.”

Make them seem like the bad guy, perfect. She always knew the Empire wasn’t pristine and perfect, it was time their own people felt the guilt.

“Hit me and I'll hit harder and where it hu-” Fiona begins before she'a cut off by the sudden burst of electricity, sound, and light, dulling all of her sense. She squeals for a moment, before coughing through the smoke, blinking her bleary eyes and peeking through the slits of her gloved fingers.

As her senses come to, she starts to make sense of what happened. “Oh dear…” she mumbles as she looks at the struck corpse of the Blackcoat. “Talk about bad luck.” She takes a moment to look up to the sky. “Hey, we're still good, right?” Without an answer, she takes it as a yes.

What were the odds?

She scampers back into alley after regaining her composure. One down and one injured from the Locust, and one down from seemingly divine intervention. What a night. She almost wishes she could swap with Mouse, but he would likely fare worse, for sure. This aught to give him a great head start at least.

“I'm not leaving,” Fiona says as she gets to the injured Blackcoat, and turns to the Locust, putting herself in its way. “If you die and this thing continues its rampage, I'll be dead anyway, along with a lot of other people. I'd rather die saving their lives than die alone among the rest.”

She grips her dagger in one hand, crossbow in the other, eyes narrowed, glaring out of her soaked hood. “You would think, after all of this, Mr. Blackcoat,” she says as she lifts her crossbow, putting the creature's head in her sights again. "I don't care what your orders are, I don't care how much trouble you get in for tonight, and quite frankly, I don't care what you think."

“Tonight we might not have a choice. Your plans have failed, my wife obsessed fellow. Better pray mine don't.” She closes one eye and puts a finger on the trigger. “And that's to aim for the head.”

Thwip!

“Didn't listen to a single word,” Fiona says as she loads a fresh bolt into the crossbow. “Thought I'd return the favour. Didn't I say I had a plan? Seems mine worked a lot more than yours did.”

As she speaks, she has many options going through her head, deciding what to do. “You lost two friends tonight trying to capture this thing. Your buddy there? Dead, blood loss. He may have had a family, I dunno. If you aren't the wife obsessed one, then I assume he was. Regardless, he's dead, and the other died from some sort of divine intervention. I don't know if you're a praying man, but I'd be asking for forgiveness from your gods after tonight, for being involved with that thing.” She follows the man as she continues to speak. “If it wasn't for me, you would have likely died too, then the rest of the town, and I guarantee you, the dead would include more than panty raiders like that poor bastard.”

“Second,” she continues. “You would never be able to arrest me by yourself, even if I did let Mouse out.” She holds up a hand to stop him speaking with that new information. “No, shut up, I'm talking now and you're going to listen. Try to arrest me with anything, and I'll fight back, and unlike you, I'm fighting fit and I have a crossbow. Now, let's not let it come to that.”

She stops with her hands on her hips. “Three. This will stay quiet if you agree to a few things, and I don't care if your superiors agree or not. First, inform your superiors that they need to shut this thing down. Coming from the woods, what, do you think I'm stupid?” She asks as she jabs him with a finger “No, this is some serious shit that should never have happened. Keep to catapults and wooden war machines, no more eldrich abominations. This never happened, and it never will happen, understand?” It should be noted that her knife is now clutched in her hand and she is very close. “Study it, then kill it and never make another one. Same with the other one you captured. I think that's a fine compromise.”

“Next, you never saw me, and Mouse died at the bandit attack. He's dead and was burned or buried with the other bodies.” Well that wasn't true at all! “Never to be heard from again. If he was alive, I'd find him and make sure he never speaks of this, theoretically of course,” she adds with a shrug. “He may not have been of much use, but he still tried to help, and I will commend him with that. Plus I made a promise to the man, and I'm the honest sort… at times.”

“Now, are those terms accepted?” She says. “Never to have those creatures again, and for myself and Mouse to never be harassed about tonight? If so, we can let this rest. If not…” her voice is low, but authoritative as she steps back, hand up and her fingers wiggling. “I have my fingers in all sorts of pies in Isra, among the people and the bourgois. I'll tell anyone who will listen, and I'm certain someone will believe. Ever seen wildfire through a forest? Have fun putting it out. Or I'll just kill you now, then the creature, then the other one you captured, even if it takes a thousand cuts. That option sounds much easier to guarantee what I want, but I'm feeling nice.” Her knife was still easy to notice, so close to him, as if she was proving her point. “You seem smart enough. Take the right choice.”

“And finally.” One of her eyebrows raise. “Asking a hooded woman with a scarf over her face to hide her identity what her name is? That's just silly. Make up a name if your superiors ask. The Thief of Isra, the Hooded Woman, a crazy bitch who said she was the rightful empress, I don't care.”

“Now, are we clear, big man?” She asks, knife still held close. “I hate to threaten you, but this is bigger than either of us, and lets just say I have loose morals when it comes to getting the greater good done.”

Such passion and authority in a woman so much shorter than he. At this point, her aim was to make him very afraid, and she hopes he's smart enough to be so, even if it was fear of a crazy woman instead of a skilled one.