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Briefing and Analysis for DrakeHavok by Draconicon

Hanna was well acquainted with the Order's camps. She'd been through most of them, and while there were differences between each one, it was always due to geography interfering rather than a deviation from the plan. As soon as one accounted for it, one could find anything.

She could have been in Havok's tent over twenty minutes ago, but the lynx was taking the long route there, mostly to collect her thoughts. She barely noticed the eyes on her as she walked through the different lines of tents, her attention drawn further inwards than that. After all, this was something important.

Not the mission, really. That was minor enough, barely something worth sending an accomplished assassin on. Paladins could be handled by the normal soldiers easily enough.

No, this was more about how to handle...him.

Hanna turned, leaning against an unused training post as she thought about this Havok. The lynx hadn't spent much time with him as of yet, but the usefulness of such an accomplished fighter was unquestioned. She'd heard the accounts from Teryx about how the fight against the Inquisitor went on a recent mission, and knew that there was likely more than she'd been told. A fight like that didn't end that quickly, and the idea that he was fast enough to keep up with an enchanted fighter...

I hope that Draconicon knows what he's doing. It's one thing to keep someone close that's useful. It's another thing if they're completely unstable.

She remembered several mages that had been as bad, driven completely out of their skulls by all the terrors that had been perpetrated on them by the Theocracy. They'd been offered safety here, but rather than recovering, they'd turned further down the road to insanity until eventually they'd needed to be put down. By her.

Draconicon knew about it, and hadn't held it against her. It was self-defense as well as defense of the Order, but it still rankled. She didn't want to have to do that, but she knew it wouldn't be the last time. Grief, fury, insanity, it all built up in people that were oppressed. Eventually, it led to a lashing out, and in a camp this size, there were too many targets to risk.

She took a dagger from her waist, hidden among fur-colored pockets, and balanced the tip on her finger. The feline let it sway as she thought about what she knew of the white dragon. How he'd lost his family to the Theocracy, sisters, brothers, possibly parents. How he'd been carrying on a one-man crusade for over a decade, now. How he'd been driven to such madness that he'd gotten into scrapes where he should have died a hundred times over.

There's no question that he's insane, by now, she thought. _Just as there's no question of whether he's useful. It's just a question of for how long.

Perhaps, Hanna, but he's still a part of the Order. Give him his mission, and tell me how it goes.

I...Yes, master._

The brief connection faded, and with it, so did her time. She tucked the dagger away and took the more direct route, arriving outside of Havok's tent in less than two minutes.

She recognized the thunk, thunk, thunk of a blade against a training dummy, and she sighed under her breath. Every time she passed by, she swore that she could hear him smacking something around. Did he ever do anything else? Probably not.

Still, she had a job to do. Hanna put her hand on the tent flap and shook it a few times, making a rippling sound.

"Come."

Stepping inside and letting the flap close behind her, the lynx stood quietly as the dragon continued his assault on the wooden practice dummy. Three arms on each side swung around at the slightest impact, and the white dragon blocked and swung with two practice swords, beating it back and smacking at the central body. It was like watching a blurred beast working at its prey.

Clumsy, though, she noted as some of his swings with his left hand were slower than the ones on his right. _He's still recovering from the injury with the Inquisitor.

He's capable for a mission. I've already checked him out.

Checked him out, or indulged yourself, master?

A little bit of both, though I don't think he remembers the other that well. He was unconscious at the time.

Hehehe...naughty.

Brief him._

Even with the command, she watched him fight for a bit longer. It wasn't just idle curiosity. There was something to the way that he moved that was legitimately fascinating. A self-taught fighter that had become a ruthless killing machine was certainly something to admire, even if he was just a few short steps from utter insanity.

More to the point, seeing how he trained gave her another piece of understanding, should it ever come to a fight between them. Whatever use he had, she wouldn't allow him to become a threat to her master. Or to the goals that he represented.

She gave him another few minutes before clearing her throat, and he stopped immediately, his hand freezing less than an inch from the dummy.

Some good control, as well, she noted as he finally set the blades down and started to work on his armor. Unlike most of the Order - herself included - he didn't walk around in just the mark and the clothing that it gave. He chose to keep his metal armor about, as well as a cloak. It was surprisingly strange to see someone dressed normally after so many years.

She shook her head.

"Draconicon has a mission for you."

"Thought I was still recovering."

"He's judged you to be fit enough for something new."

"Good. Time to fill a few graves?"

"You'll get your chance with this one, trust me on that."

After looking around for a chair and finding none, she settled for the table. She took a seat beside his weapons and crossed her legs. Not out of modesty, but more out of some respect. After all, she doubted someone like him would want to see what she had down there, particularly with his interest so obviously elsewhere.

He didn't bother sitting down, either. Instead, he gestured at her impatiently. The lynx smiled.

"What's the matter? That eager?"

"Been stuck here for too long. I want out again."

"With that arm still in pain?"

He didn't flinch. Good.

"You think that you can handle it if you happen to run into an Inquisitor again?"

"Last time was a mistake. Won't make it again."

"Oh, I don't know about that. You seem very angry, after all. What's to stop you from losing your temper, running into a rage and throwing yourself against him like the last time? What's to stop your rage from consuming you and turning you into a ravaging machine of destruction?"

"Mistakes don't happen twice."

"Don't they?"

She crossed her arms under her breasts, looking him in the eyes. They were hard, just barely covering over the fires she knew were hiding behind them. He was already angry, perhaps furious. It wouldn't take much to push him over the edge, she thought. Perhaps she should see if she could do it.

Then again, it would only delay things, and perhaps even start a fight between them. Hanna was pretty sure she could win - she wasn't restrained by an injury, and she was better trained than him - but it wouldn't solve anything. No, better to just probe around.

Waving her hand as if dismissing the topic, she hopped down from the table, walking towards the other side of the tent.

"You'll have plenty of people to kill, this time. Draconicon's sending you to a small trading outpost, set up near the northern border. Apparently, he wants to draw more paladins out, so you're going to kill a small squad of them. All of them stationed there, apparently."

"All? How many?"

"Perhaps seven, in total, divided into patrols throughout the day, from what our informant tells us."

"Too easy."

"Oh?"

As she turned to face him, the lynx pulled a knife from one of the hidden pockets in one smooth motion. With another, she flicked it back and threw it -

And he caught it just an inch away from the side of his head. She nodded; she'd expected no less, but it was still rather impressive.

"Perhaps it will be, at that."

"Why?"

"Just a little curiosity of mine. You're quick, but I haven't actually seen you in action."

"Don't need to. I'm good."

"I like to see what the other officers are...capable of."

He cocked his head to the side, and - for the first time in her experience - smiled.

"Don't trust me?"

"I'll admit I don't."

"You trust others."

"I can manipulate the others. You...I can make you angry, if I want, but I can't push you in one direction or another. You're too far gone for that. You only care for one thing."

He nodded. She almost wished that he hadn't; it was one of the few times she would have liked being proven wrong.

Hanna caught the knife as he tossed it back, but rather than tucking it away, she kept it in hand, tossing it from one to the other as she shook her head. It was not her style to be so open and honest with the people in the Order, despite Draconicon's orders, but she knew she wouldn't get anywhere with manipulation here. In a way, it was almost refreshing. In another, it was galling.

"What is it that killing gives you?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm curious. I'm very good at killing, myself, but it's not something that I particularly enjoy doing. I do it because I'm good at it, and because it serves a purpose, but I don't have a true need to do it like you do. I'm curious just what you get out of it, to pursue it so much."

"It...helps."

"Helps what?"

"It just helps."

These damaged ones, always so annoyingly quiet about how they felt, what things were like for them. Hanna shook her head.

"There's always a reason why people do something. If you're not killing, you're training to kill. If you're not training to kill, it's because you've broken another training dummy and you're waiting for us to bring you a new one. If it's not that, you disappear somewhere else completely."

"...You know about that?"

She fixed him with a steady stare, and the white dragon rubbed the back of his head.

"You know about that."

"I'm the right hand of the Order. I know about everything."

"Then why ask?"

"Because I want to know I'm right. What do you get out of killing?"

"...Relief. I get relief."

"Relief from what? From anger? That's never going to stop. From pain? It's going to keep hurting."

"From the emptiness."

She sighed, rubbing the butt of the knife against her forehead to soothe her building headache. Emptiness. It would be that; everything else was easy enough to fix and work someone through, usually without them even being aware of it. Anger just needed a good target and reward. Pain needed something else to sooth it. Emptiness was just...there.

Then again, if I wasn't here on orders... The mission was what drove her, and sometimes her own affections for the black dragon that ruled them all. It did a great deal to drive her forward, to give her reason for what she did. If she didn't have that...

But it wasn't like she could give a mission to Havok and just fix him that way. It didn't work like that, no matter how much easier that would have made her work.

She tucked the knife away. She was getting too many temptations from it anyway.

"You could do more things than train and kill, if you want to get rid of the emptiness."

"Nothing fills it. Not that easy."

"You'd be surprised."

"Family leaves a big hole to fill."

"..."

That is an insanely unfair advantage, she thought, knowing it was a peevish thought even as she had it. Taking a deep breath, she tried to walk off her frustration, pacing around one side of the tent to work off some of the energy building up.

"Havok, I'm trying to offer a bit of help here."

"Don't need help. Just give me the mission."

"You won't have missions forever."

"No. But I won't be here forever, either."

"Are you planning on dying?"

"I'm not trying to run from it, yet."

"So, you'd deny your master a good tool, one of his best for striking at the paladins?"

"...What do you mean?"

Well, that's something, she thought. It wasn't the opening that she expected, but she leaped on it.

"I mean that you are one of the best assassins and fighters that we have in the Order. When someone is almost as good as me, they become very, very valuable. Not just because of what they can do, but what they can teach. You think that your fight with the Inquisitor hasn't spread through the camp already?"

"So what?"

"So, it means that you are something of a legend. No normal soldier could have done it, and most of our mages would have had difficulty, at best. You slaughtered him, and you managed it without getting yourself or your partner killed. Do you know what that means?"

He shrugged, and that bothered her. She broke off her pacing and walked right up to him, stabbing a finger against his chest.

"It means that you're a hero right now."

"...A...No, no, that...that's not -"

"You better believe it, Havok. You did something amazing to them, and now, you are a hero to the men of the order. They're jealous of you. They want to be like you."

The words seemed to hit something, hit something hard. Where there'd been casual non-involvement before, the dragon's eyes now blazed with fear. Something she'd said had triggered a memory, and she wasn't going to let up. Hanna grabbed him by the shoulders when he tried to run, and pulled him in until they were eye to eye.

"If you think that we're losing someone that the men call a hero, someone that they look up to, someone that they idolize, you're wrong. You might have a death wish, Havok, but you are NOT going to let someone grant it for you. And do you know why?"

"Please...please stop...no..."

"I'm not going to stop until I hear it from you, dragon. What is important right now? What is more important? Killing...or staying alive for those that need you?"

"..."

He was hyperventilating, barely staying on his feet as he shivered. Hanna could feel his heart racing through her touch, and she knew that she'd hit something hard in him. What, she wasn't entirely sure, but it was important enough to get through that mental armor he carried around himself.

She shoved him back against the table, and loomed over him.

"I don't know what you're carrying in your head, Havok. I don't know what happened, in your past, that's leading up to this moment now. But trust me when I tell you this. I'm not going to forget. And I will dig deep enough to find out what happened."

"You...you don't need to know. Not about her!"

"I need to know everything, Havok. I am Draconicon's right hand. I protect him, and I protect the Order. And that means that I protect you, even from yourself."

She put her hand on the black footprint on his chest, and she pressed hard on it, just enough to feel his heartbeat hammering away beneath her fingers.

"This means we're bound to the same cause. For better or worse, until the very end, we're working together. And I am not going to lose anyone that we don't have to. This is my cause as much as yours, and I am not going to let you throw yourself away."

His eyes were fading, thrown into the past. She wasn't even entirely sure that he was listening to her anymore, stuck where he was. Something had dragged him into his memories, something that she'd said. The lynx groaned, pulling back from him with a shake of her head.

_He's been hiding something. Either from me, or from Draconicon. Master, are you there?

I am here.

What did I say? Why is he -

It's part of his past. You've reminded him of everything that he's lost, and sent him back to the worst part of it. It's...hazy in there, but from what I can see, he's re-living a night of hell._

"Rhecla...Rhecla, no..."

The wheezing whimper from the white dragon sent a little shiver up her spine, and she turned to see him with tears running down his cheeks. Hanna groaned, shaking her head a few times.

"Oh, damn it..."

I'd suggest giving him time. He will recover, though whether he will remember this or bury it is up for debate.

She agreed, slowly walking out of the tent and pulling the flap shut behind her. The last thing she needed was for other troops to see what had happened to someone they looked up to. Morale was a tricky enough thing as it was, and she didn't need to sink it when it didn't have to be.

Returning half an hour later, she found him back on his feet, but not with the training dummy. Instead, he sat with his back to the flap, his eyes closed and his hands on his knees. He seemed to be...meditating, of all things, and more surprising, he spoke up before she did.

"Hanna."

I hadn't even taken a step...if he heard me, I'd be surprised. The air, probably, stirring.

She stepped inside and closed the tent flap, shaking her head a few times.

"Are you back to normal?"

"I'm fine."

"As you ever are, I guess. Are you ready for your mission?"

"Yes."

"Are you going to turn around?"

"Don't need to."

There was no sign of whether he was alright or not, whether he had recovered from the fit, or whether he was still crying. That body was too still to read, and there was no time to really get into it. She'd wasted enough pushing him into the breakdown as she had.

Shaking her head, she sighed.

"Alright. As I said before, your mission is to take out a squad of paladins at one of the northern trade posts. We're wanting to lure as many paladins to that area as we can before we let Dresnath loose up there, just so we can make sure that the battle looks 'winnable' for them when the time comes."

"Reasonable. Seven will be easy to kill."

"You're allowed to be as bloody as you want, but make sure that you keep it from being too public. Take the bodies and remove them from the area. We don't want to show off as assassins; we're doing the dirty work of the order here."

"I can do that. Geography?"

"Mountainous. It's part of the large range on the border, though it's part of the smaller end of it."

"Doable. Seven bodies, seven hidden cairns."

He sounded so calm, now. It was different from the hidden rage from before, and she wasn't entirely sure how to deal with it. It was...strange, to put it mildly, and she didn't like it when she couldn't pick apart something strange.

Even so, at least it was something different. She just hoped this wouldn't come back and bite them in the butt. She shook her head, continuing the briefing.

"There's several members of the Order there, if you need supplies or help. You can find them..."

The End