The said bound grey-cloaked figure managed a groan. He really would have preferred to spring from the saddle unbound, to draw his greatsword with a ring and make a grand escape - but regrettably, lengths of expertly knotted rope and a splitting headache prevented this glorious vision from quite taking place. The first thing he wondered upon awakening was what if his reputation would quite manage to recover from the blow.

But a close second was the fact that an audience with the detested Vizier was imminent, and some modicum of dignity must be retained.

((Me ))

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Threng grimaced as Jias fell of Storm. Hit didn't fall completely on his behind, but it was apparent that he had not made the most graceful of landings. Threng couldn't help but grin at the antics of Jais and Kjan as they ran to the wagon. Threng kicked Storm into a slw canter and caught up to them just in time to hear Jias announce "Threng helped!" He nodded in their direction.
"Did some one eat the Phantom?" Jias asked. Threng had been wondering the same thing. With the scuffle they had, the Phantom should have caught up to them by now: he knew that. but now that he had time to think, a horrible thought came to mind. They had been ambushed, but he doubted it was his head the hunters wanted. No doubt they were looking for the Phantom. Threng feared they may have found him.

Nataniel glared daggers at Kjan.

As the man pulled himself up in the wagon, he replied, "Oh yes. It was positively delightful. Let's hope someday I have the chance to repay you. With tenfold interest." He smirked jubilantly, and but paused as the Phantom's name was mentioned.

By the celestials, I thought rescues were always supposed to go tip-top in cases like this. We've got the two brave bloke's, but I thought it was supposed to be a damsel, not a phantom in distress.

"Phantom, eh? He's the one that got us here in the first place, eh? And I was all set for a happy ending at the gallows tomorrow."

He frowned in mock sorrow and brushed away an imaginary tear.

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<center>
"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."

Cato said "Good, we are near that route." He gave his horse a soft kick and they started down at a trot. The man said "Do you have any family?"

Kjan's expression immediately sobered. His gut instinct told him to immediately turn around and go look for his friend. He and Phantom had been friends for as long as either could remember-- since before there had been any talk of rebellion or plotting or war...indeed, before there had ever even been a "Phantom Grey."

But for once, Kjan's sense prevailed over his gut instinct. "Phantom told us to get these prisoners to safety," he finally spoke up. "That remains our first priority. If, when they are safe in the keep, we still have not seen him, then we can figure out how to proceed." Without another word, he spurred the horses forward again, albeit at a slightly less hazardous speed.

Ash and the young man came running up to Kjan, apparently too late for the fight. "What happened?" he asked, out of breath.

"Two younger siblings... a twin thats missing. I had an older brother, but he's dead, as are my parents," Elizabeth said.
"I don't think I got your name. Mine's Elizabeth."

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(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

He said "Oh, yes, my name is....Cato."

His name's as strange as his cloths, Elizabeth thought, and nodded...

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(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

"You are the bounty hunter... Falch'nus?" came a laconic and expert inquiry from the door guard. He and his companion crossed glaives before the vast oak doors that opened into the High Vizier's audience hall.

Falch'nus evinced an equally curt nod in response. He'd left his men outside, and he found himself grateful that the Phantom retained the sense to be temporarily cooperative. A few prods in the back with his dirk had seen them uneventfully through the castle corridors and down to the Regent's antechamber.

"Very well," the guard conceded, thrusting open the doors. Amplifying his voice, he announced, "Heralding the bounty hunter Falch'nus, my lord."

Well versed in court protocol, he entered the vaulted audience hall with his head respectfully bowed, the Phantom in tow.

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Jais nodded and reclined in the wagon seat, content to allow the Phantom's second-in-command, the Cook with Questionable Skill (or CQS for short), take charge. Who better to blame if matters went wrong?

They journeyed in silence for the next few hours, as night mantled them and an interesting panorama of stars emerging through the black velvet. The Earth's Teeth stabbed up at their left, and as they entered the mountain foothills, Jais woke up from his hibernation and graced the earth with his annoying voice for the first time in an hour: "Greetings, stranger." The stranger in this case being Natanial, who may or may not wish within the next five minutes that Jais had never woken up. He extended a hand, then proceeded politely, "Who the heck are you?"

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Threng sat uneasily in the saddle. The Phantom should have cought up to them long before now. Somthing was definatly wrong. It was times like these he almosted wished he was on his own again. As a lone assasin, he had no one to worry about but himself. No attachments, no comrades, no caring about men who saved your life....no men that saved your life, for that matter. But he was in this situation. He had chosen to join, and now he had responcibilities to uphold, the foremost being escorting the ex-captives to the base.

Night is a beautiful time. he thought to himself. The stars that dotted the sky twinkled like jewels. He had neglected her beauty far too long, using her only as cover to shade his workings.

Just as Threng thought the scene could get no lovlier, Jais woke up, proving his point.

Nataniel had been reclining in the back of the wagon in a most heroic fashion, with one leg tucked neatly under him, and the other resting atop the shoulder of an old man who was snoring distractingly with drool rolling down in threads of silver off his unshaven-chin. All through the jarring wagon trip he had been grinning at a certain young maiden in the wagon in a benign way, mistaking her faintness of heart for swooning spells. He duly congratulated himself on displaying such a heroic show that afternoon, she obviously had noticed.

But then, Jais's most uncivilized voice grated in his ears, and he was forced to turn his gaze from her adoring eyes.

"What's that? Who am I?! I'm only the man who saved this whole accursed wagon from being next years splinters in little tots feet."

He took the proffered hand with what strongly resembled a superior smirk, at the same time trying to bring his boot off the old man's shoulder. Regrettably he'd never learned to multi-task. His foot gave a slip and bumped the old man in the chin, who in turn snorted, spraying drool over his well-polished boot. Nat let go a few creative words, and added as an afterthought,

"Th' name is Nataniel Trovoglyst. Now if you'd be so reasonable as to tell me where ARE we going?"

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<center>
"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."

The Phantom disdainfully shrugged off the controlling hand upon his grey-cloaked shoulder and proceeded at his own rate.

Ah. There he was, the disgusting epitomy of unsated greed. The Phantom found his lips curling into a sneer and hastily banished it, straightening his broad shoulders as well as he could with wrists bound tightly behind him.

However, he flatly refused to show any type of deference or respect to the fat, gluttonous pig also known as the Regent. So not until receiving a kick to the back of the knees, several prods, and a threat of decapitation then and there was he persuaded into a position faintly resembling the accepted kneel of submission.

The Regent himself regarded them with an air of disinterest until he caught sight of the Phantom's cloak clasp, an object admirably showcased by the fact that a guard had hold of the aforementioned rebel's mane of slightly greying hair. Upon leaning forward to inspect it - it was a falcon, wings spread, the Phantom's insignia - the Regent's bloodshot eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Unless I'm much mistaken, bounty hunter" - he wheezed his words in a rather nasal tone which the Phantom found unbearably reminiscent of a weasel - "you have at your disposal the infamous rebel Phantom Grey."

"You're not mistaken," snarled the said Phantom, and received a blow across the face from a gauntleted hand.

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Padron had been passing through the the castle, his pay received, when he saw a grey-robed figure being prodded along in front of a familiar-looking man. Ah, yes. The bounty hunter that the Regent had been bubbling about a few weeks ago. And the grey-robed man was....the Phantom.

Padron felt his jaw go slack. The Phantom had been captured? How had the bounty hunter managed it? And alone, too? He closed his mouth with a click of teeth coming together hard, and glared. If the Phantom was captured, his primary source of employment would be gone. True, he could still earn prize money from Quarterstaff competitions, but it was not enough. His family was big.

He followed the Phantom and the bounty hunter into the audience chamber. If the Phantom was captured, something would have to be done to make him un-captured, so that Padron would still have a job.

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Cato stopped the horse and seemed to think a little. He said "We are going to the capital." and immediately took off with the horse to the capital of the kingdom.

Jais had never liked dwarves, and the dwarf behind the clandestine door leading into the Phantom's Keep was annoying even by dwarven standards - this and the mere fact that Jais himself, the very epitome of annoyingness, found reason to grind his teeth every time he encountered the stout creature.

Of course, Belnarr's reputation for being the only dwarf in the entire Keep and thus the invaluable stonemason-and-architect-in-one didn't help his irritating disposition one bit.

To the casual passerby, the wagonload of idiots standing idly on the moonlit mountain slopes would have looked quite the interesting sight. Couple this with the fact that the lead idiot was talking to the sheer mountain face, and the mountain wasn't talking back.

"Please?" Jais wheedled, leaning his face in close to the stone. "It's a cold night, and I may catch the Black Plague. I may die out here alone, surrounded by imbeciles. Hardly a fitting verse when the bards sing about my auspicious life."

Silence. Then, very faintly, an elaborate rhythm of knocks could be heard on the other side of the stone.

"What do you mean, you stubbed your toe this morning?" demanded Jais, exasperated. "It's not like - "

A few more knocks, more urgent this time.

"A headache?" he practically yelped. "It's not like it can get past your thick skull in any case."

The knocks fairly echoed off the mountainside this time. Stars above, what was Belnarr so furious about? It hadn't even been an insult, simply a proven fact tactfully stated.

"I've got money," he replied.

And the stone door, once seamlessly blended in with the surrounding mountainside, swung open faster than Jais could say "stupid dwarf."

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