FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Snow fell upon the road before the horse-drawn cart as it rolled onward toward the small trading post closest to the Silent Hand's headquarters. Winter had been harsh this year, pouring piles and piles of white, fluffy powder down onto Farlan for as far as the eye could see. Settled in the back, closed away from the cold and huddled under a pile of furs and cloth, were Tacitus and Lore, passing the time by shooting comments back and forth about the mission they'd just accomplished.

"Ok, it's true that you saved my ass that time." Tacitus said with a grin, "But what about when the guy with the gun came into the room? He would have blown a hole in your head if I wasn't there."

Lore scoffed and jabbed her thumb into the fox's side, snuggling in behind him to try and absorb more heat from his warm blooded body, "Yeah, well what about the target? You missed your shot, you fuzzy idiot!"

"Only because you sneezed!"

"I blame your fur! Clearly I'm allergic." the gecko giggled and buried her face into his neck, faking a sneeze as if to emphasize, "See?"

Taci rolled his eyes, pulling his legs in so his feet wouldn't stick out of the pile of warmth heaped on top of them, "Gods, it's frigging cold..."

"Hey, don't you complain. Without you here, I'd probably just die. So you have it easy!"

"I suppose so." the fox leaned back against Lore, shutting his eyes and listening to the sounds of her breaths and the subtle crunch of the snow beneath the cart's wheels.

"Still... It was a hell of a hit." Lore said with a hint of sadness in her voice, a short sigh proceeding the comment, "Guess that's what happens when you don't pay up."

"With the wrong people, yeah."

"Think anyone's ever tried to scam the Hand like that?"

"If they have, they sure didn't live to tell anyone."

Lore nodded, stuffing her hands into her companion's cloak to keep the chills away from her fingers, "Thanks, by the way... for taking the killing blow."

"Hmm? That's an odd thing to thank me for."

"Well, you know how I feel about..."

Tacitus thought back to the conversation they'd had a while back, before their mission at Ironhill. He recalled his first moment of truly understanding Lore, and how she was more than just an annoying, ditsy girl who'd chosen a peculiar line of work... and how that annoying, ditsy demeanor was how she coped with ending lives day after day. He recalled how his own cold, uncaring and closed-in exterior was, in essence, no different from her own front. With an understanding smile, the fox gave her hand a little squeeze, "Yeah, I know. Don't worry about it."

"I know you don't really like it either..."

"Well, I'm more... tolerant toward it." it wasn't a lie. There were those rare, satisfying kills that overpowered Tacitus' conscience. Kills that had to be made, for the greater good, or to remove a particularly despicable person from existence. To Tacitus, these kills were necessary, tolerable... and sometimes even enjoyable. For Lore, however, they were likely all the same.

"Mmh." Lore's response came in a low hum, and she rubbed her nose into his fur again, "Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice, joining up."

"What was your other choice?"

The gecko answered quietly, after a pause, "My old life... except alone."

A realization struck the fox, and before he could consider that it might be hurtful to ask, the question slipped from his lips, "How did it happen, anyway?"

"Well..." Lore sat herself up, detaching herself from his body and leaning against the back wall of the cart, "I suppose you've earned the right to know."

"You don't have to tell if you don't want to."

"It's not that I don't want to. It's just... difficult." Lore sighed, staring down at her hands, "You told me yours, after all."

It wasn't the happiest conversation they'd had, that was for sure. But after Lore had come to his aid, saved him from his own dagger, and carted him and his dead friend back home without any urging to the contrary, then pulled him from a depressive slump on top of all that, Taci had decided she'd more than deserved to know the truth of his own initiation to the Silent Hand. If Lore was willing to share her own story with him, he would gladly listen, and he indicated so with an understanding nod, "Only if you're comfortable with it."

She smiled and searched for his hand beneath the furs, lacing their fingers together when she found it, "If there's anyone in this world that makes me comfortable, Tacitus, it's you." she took a breath and let it out slow, taking a moment to collect herself before starting, "I lived by the ocean, in a small town called Watchtower. It was cold, dark and wet... like it always was in the winter..."

Rain. It always rained in Watchtower. Tiny droplets assaulted wood, stone, flesh and cloth, like the sky had declared war on the poor, defenseless denizens of the surface world. Some took shelter, but most paid the rain no mind. They were used to it by now, living so close to the sea. Lanterns pitched and tilted gently in the wind, their weak flames extinguishing one by one, leaving only the tall beacon from which the town's namesake came to offer any protection from the growing dark as the sun retired for the evening.

A figure stumbled in the downpour, falling onto its back and into a shallow puddle with a pained groan. A crowd began to gather, and a man shouted, breaking the near-silence of the rainy evening, "Stupid lizard! You dare try and rob our lord right in front of us?"

Lore tried to climb to her feet, but the angry man, a bald human with a bad eye, kicked her to the floor again. He approached the bruised thief, kicking her stomach, then her ribs, then her thigh, "You should be happy this is all you're getting! This is the lord of your county you're stealing from!"

A voice came from the cart upon which the lord in question was riding, "That's enough, Jethro."

Lore could see the silhouette of a man dressed in royal attire sitting under a fancy awning, keeping the rain off his royal head. His face was obscured by shadow, but she could sense the pity in his gaze. Or maybe it was sympathy. Ah, who was she kidding? They were the same thing, coming from a noble.

"Tch." the human, Jethro, kicked her one last time, "Stupid lizard isn't worth my time."

"I said, that's enough! Control yourself, and stop making a scene."

"Fine. But you know what these lowlives are like. They don't learn through words."

Lore groaned again, finally able to stumble to her feet as the carriage continued down the road, looking down at her empty hands. Not even a coin to justify the beating she'd received. She gathered herself and wiped blood from her snout, pushing her way through the crowd and wandering her way home.

"Home." she thought with a scoff, "Dogs on the street have more 'home' than this."

The tiny shack seemed to hold together merely on the willpower of its tenants. Wooden scraps and bits of salvaged tin and iron lay slapped on as patches and insulation against the bitter cold of winter. A tiny chimney stuck out the top, where the faintest breath of smoke puffed out into the cold, rainy air.

Lore opened the door carefully, shutting it behind her and slipping out of her jacket, "I'm home, mother."

"Lore?" an elderly gecko called from the other room--the only other room, in fact. "You sound troubled, dear."

"I'm fine. Do we have any more bandage?"

"Did you get into another fight, Lore?" the older woman's voice turned sour. She wandered out from behind the thin divider between rooms and gave her daughter a scowl. Her scales were dark and worn from age, a stark contrast to Lore's young and vibrant violet ones. She hobbled along unsteadily on a frail stick that barely passed for tinder, never mind a cane.

"To call it a fight would be an insult to fights everywhere." the ever-humble Lore had had plenty of time to make light of being smacked around by guards, with all the thievery she'd done. She'd gotten better, though, and this particular beating was actually almost a shock to her system. An iota of confidence on her part. Something that anyone with a little bit of money and power was quick to take away from the downtrodden, lest they actually find some self-worth. The gecko rummaged through an old chest, its wood rotten in places from constant exposure to moisture, "Sorry to say, I don't think we'll be eating extravagantly tonight."

The old lizard heaved a sigh and sat down on a torn up cushion that might have been someone else's couch at one point, "So you were out picking pockets again. Got caught this time, hmm?"

"Wouldn't have, if it weren't for that one guard." Lore snorted, managing to find some bandages in the chest and wrapping one around an abrasion on her arm, "Had one bad eye on him, so I figured he'd be half as likely to catch me. Guess he's learned to compensate."

"While you haven't learned a thing. Nobles don't keep lame men around." the elderly gecko sighed again, pinching the top of her snout gently, "You're making me age faster, Lore. You can't keep doing this."

Lore snapped the chest shut and turned, a tired look in her eyes, "We'd have been dead long ago if I hadn't started this. You can hate it all you want, but don't devalue my bruises. Apart from you and this wood and metal abomination, they're all I've got."

Her mother was silent for a long while, staring at the wall ahead of her in silent contemplation. Finally she spoke, motioning to her left with her head, "You're soaking wet, dear. Sit by the fire."

Their little stove, perhaps their most valued possession, added a much-needed layer of color to the otherwise drab dwelling. Old coals and bits of driftwood burned within, providing the single most comforting thing the residents of Watchtower could ever want in bitter winters like these: Heat.

Lore took a moment to grab a length of rope from the chest she'd just searched, stringing it up close to the stove and hanging her soaking clothes up. She grabbed another set of rags and slipped into them, settling down next to her mother by the fire. She was still in pain and more than a little frustrated, but at least she was warm... and not alone.

"You do realize..." she started, putting her feet up to the fire and relishing in the soothing heat as it flowed through her scales and into the sore tissues beneath, "I'm going right back out once my jacket's dry."

"Yes... I know." her mother said, hanging her head and reaching over to grab her knitting needles, "You should spend your energy more constructively. Try finding a job in town."

"No one wants an employee who's sluggish in the cold, mother."

"Then an indoor job, perhaps? You're nice and friendly when you want to be." that last part was added with some disdain, "Maybe try working at the pub?"

Lore sighed, leaning forward and staring into the fire, "Tried. They said they're full up this time of the year. Winter brings a lot of people in, and they get a lot of hopefuls early on... all plenty more attractive than me, too."

"Oh, let's not have that. You're miserable enough as is without looking down on yourself."

"Yeah, ok." Lore rolled her eyes and then rubbed her stomach, feeling a rumble coming on, "So do we actually have anything to eat? I know leftovers aren't exactly common, but... doesn't hurt to ask."

The elderly gecko pointed to the left corner of the shack, "Still some jerky in there from your last success."

Ah, dried beef. Truly a meal fit for a king. Lore eagerly opened their little cabinet and peered inside, only to find just one piece left. She glanced over her shoulder at her mother, then shut the cabinet. As loudly as her belly demanded that she wolf it down, her heart shouted just a little louder. Lore wandered over to a pile of cloth near the door and flopped down onto it, tugging a blanket over herself and facing the wall, "On second thought, maybe I'll just take a nap."

"Good. Maybe you'll wake up a changed woman and decide not to go out stealing anymore."

"I thought you didn't believe in miracles." Lore grumbled and shut her eyes. Her mother might think that food just magically appeared in that cabinet, but she certainly knew what it took to get something in their stomachs. The irate gecko felt herself start to drift off to sleep. A little rest for her weary body, and enough time for her jacket to dry.

Night had fallen by the time she awoke. Rain still beat down on the metal rooftop, with just as much enthusiasm as earlier. Lore dressed herself and looked into the other room, where her mother slept. The older gecko barely moved, her body slowly rising and falling as she breathed in a sleep-indicative pattern. If Lore was going to get out of the house without being nagged, it'd have to be now. She started to turn, but felt something tug at her heart strings. Fear, perhaps? Shame? She quickly shrugged it off, but did slip in next to her mother and kiss her cheek, "Love you, mom. See you soon."

She shut the door behind her, stepping out into the cold rain and pulling her hood over her head. The streets were dark, and few guards were on duty in this part of town. Not that they would hassle her to begin with. If only they could have known what she was up to.

"Alright." Lore mumbled to herself, looking down each block she passed, "If I were a rich, snooty noble, where would I turn in for the evening?"

There was no way the lord from earlier would have continued on the road that late in the day. He would have had to stop somewhere in town to retire, and there were only a few inns in Watchtower with enough class for a noble to stand sleeping in. Surely enough, she spotted the stagecoach parked adjacent to the closest thing Watchtower had to a "fancy" inn.

"Well that was easy enough." she grinned, casually walking down the road, making sure to keep her face covered. The caravan guards had surely dealt with plenty of would-be cutpurses that day, but there was always the off-chance of them recognizing her and blowing her chance at a clean getaway. She didn't want to rob the lord blind--just grab enough so that she and her mother could eat comfortably. Being poor had taught them to stretch things out for a while. A few hundred gold would last weeks, and the lord would likely never even realize he'd been robbed of that paltry amount.

An examination of the stagecoach found it to be empty, presumably to keep looters like her from making off with any riches. She'd expected as much, but some nobles were careless. This one, unfortunately, was not. She would have to search inside.

"Those guards might be wandering the halls... but they'd never expect a thief like me." Lore nearly giggled. She quickly moved around to the side of the building, checking for any random patrollers before pressing her hands firmly to the wooden wall. Tiny fibers in her palms hooked to the wood, and she pulled herself up with a little grunt. Her feet followed suit, grabbing the wall as easily as her hands. Being a gecko sure had its advantages. Lore climbed up the wall with ease, keeping her body pressed flat against the wood to blend better in the darkness. Now only one question remained: Where was the lord sleeping?

Logic would suggest that he would be on the top floor. "Above everyone else" was a position nobles found comfort in, both to satisfy their egos and to provide optimum security. Starting at the top and making her way down seemed like a decent idea to begin with, so she stuck with that line of thought. The gecko climbed up as quietly as she could, reaching the fourth and final floor of the inn and peering through a window. A faint light from the outer hall barely illuminated the open room, showing enough for Lore to see the pristine bed sheets and undisturbed chair slid neatly under a small wooden table. Empty. Just what she needed.

"Well... no turning back after this." Lore took a deep breath and let it out slow. She would be arrested, if not killed outright, if she were caught after this. The ache in her belly urged her onward, however, and with a silent sliding sound, she pushed the window open and slipped inside. The warmth of the inn was a welcome change from the wind and rain outside, which she quickly cut off by shutting the window behind her. If only she'd been here for pleasure, rather than business.

The gecko ducked low and approached the door, leaning out just enough to see an empty hallway. She took that as her go-ahead, slinking down the hall to the right and checking the corner. Again, no one in sight, as to be expected at this time of night. It was easy to sneak around this way, but the lack of guards in the hall made it evident that she wouldn't find her target here.

"Back to the left then." she figured, turning the corner again and heading in the opposite direction. This time her search bore fruit; two armored men stood beside the doorway of one of the inn's finest rooms. Surely her noble would be sleeping here. Now all she had to do was get inside unnoticed.

Lore recalled her method of entering the inn and nodded to herself. The best way to get past those guards would be to never get into their line of sight to begin with. Another open room sat at the end of the hall, just a few doors down from the lord's room. It would have to do.

"Whatever gods are watching, I sure hope you're feeling merciful this evening." Lore watched the guards for a moment, waiting until she was confident that their eyes would remain forward, and then quickly slipped across the hall and into the empty room. She paused and waited, listening for alerted voices or heavy footsteps. After two minutes, she had heard neither. She was clear.

Once again, she was outside, keeping the room's window open this time in case she needed a quick way back in. Lore gripped the side of the inn with all her strength, slowly moving toward her target's room. Looking down was out of the question as she hung over a four story drop to the ground. There was no room for fear now. She came upon the first window between her and her destination, ducking her head below the glass in case anyone happened to be looking out. What an odd, humorous sight it would be, seeing this ragged, soaking wet lizard crawling across a wall in the middle of the night.

"Bastards look silly in their fancy pants anyway." Lore remarked, pushing the thought out of her head. They could laugh all they wanted. She would be the one with the last laugh tonight, if all went well. She passed the second window, once again keeping her head low, and quickly made her way across to the room she would soon be infiltrating. Her arms and legs ached as she pulled herself across the wall, hissing out obscenities as the last window always seemed to be just out of reach after every slow movement toward it.

Finally, after an eternity, she reached the window and peered inside. The room was dark, the door shut. She could see no further than the glass before her, but she knew he was in there. The guards were outside, so he had to be. Lore gathered her courage and lifted the window, quietly slipping inside and shutting it behind her. The sound of the howling wind and pouring rain could easily wake anyone unaccustomed to Watchtower's weather, and this lord probably held court further inland. She almost felt curious about his presence here. What kind of business would the lord of the land have so far from his castle?

"What does it matter?" she reminded herself, pausing to allow her eyes to become accustomed to the dark. Slowly the room came into view, revealing cases of luggage, various odds and ends that nobles felt the need to lug around with them, for whatever reason... and money. Coin purses sat atop a desk next to the bed. The... empty bed.

Empty? Where was the lord? The sheets were pushed up like someone had been here, but the lord was nowhere to be found. Perhaps he'd stepped out? But surely she'd heard someone breathing before...

"Think you climbed up into the wrong room." a gruff voice came from her left, causing her to jump. A figure stepped forward in the dark, lighting a candle and holding it forward to try and get a look at the intruder, "I know climbing through windows to sneak into your lover's bedroom is a cute thing you kids do these days, so I'll tell you what. If you leave nice and quiet-like now, I'll just pretend I never saw you."

Lore froze. She knew she recognized that voice, and when the candlelight went from blinding to revealing, she immediately knew from where: The bald human with the bad eye from earlier. Jeffrey or... Jimbob or... whatever the lord had called him. The man who had seen fit to beat her for trying to steal from the lord in the first place.

"What, can't you hear me?" the man stepped closer, squinting as he tried to examine the figure before him. His expression suddenly lit up, as if in realization. Somehow he seemed to recognize her, and his placid expression turned to one of disgust, "Oh, it's you. What, didn't get enough of a beating last time? I'll be sure to give you more then!"

"I'll go!" Lore held her hands up. She didn't want to go through that again, and he had offered to let her slip away. It would be another failed attempt, but at least she wouldn't have new bruises.

"Oh, no. You're not going anywhere." the guard stepped forward, setting down the candle and cracking his knuckles, "See, I'm actually a kind man, despite what you may think. I do my very best to try and teach people like you not to steal from honest, upstanding nobles like our lord. But when people just plain refuse to learn, it makes me a little... upset."

"I didn't refuse to learn." Lore tried to control her anger, but the man's attitude was less than helpful. Her voice dropped to a low growl, her hands balling up into fists, "I can't get a job. My mother and I are starving. We'll die if I don't take what I can get."

"Well then, what I'm doing is a kindness. When I'm done with lesson number two, you'll get a nice vacation in the city dungeon. They feed you there, didn't you know? Sure, dogs eat better than prisoners do, but it'd probably be a step up, don't you think?"

"Fuck you!" the gecko threw a punch, only to have it caught and her arm twisted painfully. She felt a kick land on her side, and she hit the floor with a loud thud.

"Hey, what's going on in there?" one of the guards called from outside.

"Thief. I've got it." the bald man said passively, grabbing the back of Lore's jacket and lifting her up, "Shame about your mother, though. Doubt they'll lock her up with you. Guess she'll have to fend for herself."

That comment was all it took. Lore's blood boiled in her veins, and all rational thought quickly burned away in favor of blind, murderous rage. She swung her leg forward, catching her captor by surprise and landing a firm kick to his crotch, knocking him back and causing him to drop her. His body landed heavily against the door and slumped. Before he could get back up, she was on him, punching and clawing at his face, breaking his nose and tearing into his skin. It was only when he stopped fighting back that Lore relented, stepping backward and appraising the scene.

"We're coming in!" the guards outside shouted, and the doorknob turned. They pushed in vain, however, as the bleeding man's heavy body blocked any hope of entry. They began to shout for backup, and the familiar sound of heavy armored boots began to reverberate throughout the inn.

"Shit..." the bald man coughed, spitting blood and wiping his torn up face. He looked up at Lore through blurred eyes and scowled, "So, you've got some fight in you, do you? Well don't think this is it. You can take everything in this room and it won't matter. I'll find you... and I'll enroll you in every class my fists are willing to give."

Still in a blood haze, Lore could only stare down at her beaten and bruised opponent. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. Not unless...

"Well, go already. You've earned your freedom... for now."

The gecko's eyes flicked to the right. There was a glint of metal on the table. Long, sharp, edged... A kitchen knife. Something every inn room had, for meals that couldn't simply be eaten at the bar. Lore's shaking hand reached out and grabbed the knife by the handle, and her lips curled into an unsettling smile.

The man on the floor quickly changed his tone, panic beginning to rise up in his voice, "Hey... I said you could go! You don't have to do anything crazy!"

"I'll never be safe." Lore flipped the knife over in her hand, kneeling down to her prey's level and staring into his eyes, "If you die, I'll at least have a chance."

"No, wait!" he reached for his sword, but quickly found his arm pinned to the wall. The little gecko was surprisingly strong when she was angry. "S-Stop, I'll let you go! I won't come after you!"

By now, the guards were hitting the door with heavy hammers, the wood beginning to dent and splinter. Lore didn't care, though. All she could think about now was just how badly this man's life needed to end. She brought the knife back and thrust it forward, growling lowly when her wrist was caught by the guard's free hand. A quick jab at his good eye with her thumb quickly alleviated this problem, as he was now too busy trying to futilely push the dripping blood and ocular fluids back into his eye socket. Lore ignored his screaming and whispered to him, "Die... for the pain you have caused. For the dreams you've shattered. Die!"

The blade sunk into the guard's throat, cutting off his screams with pained gurgles. He lost consciousness in seconds, and in minutes he would be dead. Lore slowly removed her blade and stared for a long time. Her hands trembled violently, her thoughts a haze of white noise and what could have only been screams. No... the screams weren't in her head. They were real. They were her own.

Just as she began to realize what she'd just done, the door finally broke into sections, the guards outside pulling the wood apart to try and rescue their comrade. One of them shouted something, but the sound was too muffled in Lore's overloaded ears. The noise, the screams... they wouldn't stop. She had to get out. The window... yes, that was as good of a way as any. She turned and ran, pushing the glass so hard it broke under her hands. She went out feet-first, climbing down uneasily with two feet and one hand--she still had the knife in the other--until she got to the second story. Her concentration broke for a split second, and that was all it took to send her falling to the ground below.

The soft grass was barely enough to cushion her fall. Lore's body felt as if it would fall apart. She had to keep moving, though. The guards were coming, and they would surely kill her if they found her. She ran, bolting through the streets, somehow silencing her screams for the moment and rushing right past her house. She couldn't go home. Not now. Not after what she'd done.

Somewhere behind her, she could hear guards shouting under the oppressive sound of the rain and wind. Their voices, angry and gruff, faded into echoes as she passed the town border and felt the road beneath her change from cobblestone to dirt. A stray rock caught her foot, sending her tumbling to the floor and covering her in mud.

"No... No, no, no, no..." Lore whimpered, tears pouring down her cheeks. She couldn't get the images out of her head; his one good eye, broken open with the easiest, most natural movement. The crimson blood, shining dimly in the candlelight. The sound of his final breaths devolving into futile gurgles as blood filled his trachea... It was all she could do, all she could say: "No, no, no, no..!"

She couldn't tell how long she'd sat there, hunched over in the mud and rain, crying her eyes out, nor could she tell when the man in black had appeared and held an umbrella over her head. The gecko looked up through tear-stained eyes, wanting to run just as she had from the guards, but having no will left in her legs to do so.

"You've done a hell of a thing tonight, Ms. Alandra." the man spoke in a heavy Old World accent, unusual for the period. His tone was casual, but knowing, his face obscured by a dark hood. "An impressive performance, if I am to understand."

"Impressive..? I just..." she couldn't bring herself to say it, "How could that be impressive? Look at what I've become!"

"You have become something very few others can ever dream to become." the hooded figure seemed to grin, shockingly expressive beneath that obscuring hood, "You should be proud. Not everyone can end a life so efficiently."

"Who are you? Are you with them? How the hell do you know what I did?" Lore gripped the handle of her knife and pulled herself to her feet. She'd already killed one man. What harm would there be in another?

"I represent the interests of a particular organization that values individuals with skills like yours. Your ability to move unseen, to act unheard, and to kill swiftly and efficiently." his head tilted in a nonchalant shrugging motion, "More or less. Your execution was sloppy, but you get points for improvising."

"Fuck you. Do you think this is a game? My life is over because of what I did tonight!" Lore felt that anger bubble up again, and before she even registered that she'd moved, she was lunging at the cloaked man with her knife. Just as quickly as she'd charged, however, her wrist was caught, a firm palm striking the back of her hand and causing her to lose hold of her weapon. The momentum of her charge simply kept going forward as the mysterious man's body just... flowed around hers, sending her down to the mud again.

"An expected reaction. One that can be suppressed, given the proper training." the man dusted his cloak with a gloved hand, kicking Lore's knife into a nearby hedge, "Your life is far from over, my dear. In fact, if you come with me, I can show you how it's only just begun."

"Who are you?" Lore asked again through whimpering sobs, clutching handfuls of mud in her fists, "How do you know who I am?"

"My name is of no concern. My associates know me as Number One, the first and final say in the affairs of the Silent Hand." this 'Number One' stepped toward her and offered his hand, "We have eyes everywhere in Farlan, Ms. Alandra. Wherever the talent to kill blossoms, our gaze will find it, and when the horrors of Sekhem have cultivated it, our Hand shall come and harvest it."

Lore stared up at the offered hand for a long moment, before ultimately declining, hanging her head and wiping tears way with a dirty sleeve, "What do you want from me?"

"I want to give you a place, Ms. Alandra. A home for these young, but undeniable talents of yours. A place where you'd be of proper use." he put his hand at his side again, "Join the Silent Hand. Become an instrument of death, and finally take what life owes you."

Lore sniffled, pulling herself up into a sitting position and staring down at her ruined jacket. Since the guards had seen her, all of Watchtower would soon know her face. Even if she could go back to see her mother, she would never be able to face her after murdering someone. She was homeless now. A vagrant in an unforgiving world, with only one way out being offered to her.

Number One stood up straight and checked a timepiece stored in his pocket, "Oh my, look at how late it is. It's going to be dreadfully cold tonight, Ms. Alandra. I suggest you make your choice quickly."

The gecko dragged herself to her feet. It was either take up this assassin's offer, or subject herself to a life of poverty... which would have been just fine, had she been able to go back home. At least her former life wasn't lonely poverty. She took a deep breath to stifle the sobs that still threatened to bubble to the surface, giving the cloaked man a wordless nod.

"Excellent. Come along then, and do try and calm down." he offered her the umbrella, but she declined. With a little shrug, Number One took the lead down the road leading away from the town. Lore took one final look back and mumbled a silent goodbye to her mother, squeezing her eyes shut and leaning her head back to let the tears wash away in the rain. It always rained in Watchtower.

Tacitus bit his lip as Lore finished her story. It wasn't dissimilar from his, after all. Knowing she could never go back home, out of fear for her mother's safety or her reaction... It rang in the same tone as his feelings about his own family, back in Duskden. He searched his mind for the right words, but found none. There were no words for stories like these. All he could think to do was place an understanding hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you." Lore slid closer and leaned against him, sniffling back tears, "Now you know."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Like I said, you've earned the right to know. I just wish that telling it could change it somehow."

The fox could only nod in response. How many times had he thought the exact same thing? How many nights had he spent wishing he'd done things differently, punishing himself for being the coward he was? In a way, Lore's reasons were easier to justify than his would ever be. She ran away from danger. He'd ran to escape the truth.

"It's all the same, though." Lore said after a moment, burying herself in his fur, "Poor and oppressed, rich and oppressed... The gold I make on missions doesn't set me free. It only keeps my belly full and my scales warm."

"What do you mean?"

"Look at us, Taci. We're stuck where we are, don't you know? There is no retiring from assassination. You can't quit and go back home, you can't start a quiet little farm out in the country. We're stuck." her hands gripped the fox's cloak and squeezed, her body beginning to shake softly as silent sobs found their way to her throat, "When do we get to choose what we do with our lives, Taci? When do we take the control that's been denied to us?"

"Lore..." Tacitus didn't have an answer to that. Not any that would satisfy her. He rested his chin on top of hers, gently patting her back and squeezing her a little more than he intended. A means to comfort her, perhaps... and maybe comfort himself as well. He didn't want to tell her she was right, but it sure didn't stop him from knowing it.

"I'm sorry, Taci." Lore tried to regain her composure, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, "I should be used to this by now, I know. I've been doing it for a long time."

"The moment you get used to it is the moment you lose everything that makes you who you are, Lore." Tacitus leaned back against the wall of the cart, staring out the window in the door across from them and watching the snow fall, "And if you are who you say you are, then you'll never truly get used to it. Neither will I. And maybe one day we will get out of this line of work... Make something of ourselves, rather than just make corpses of others." he didn't really believe it himself, but it sounded good, at least.

"Yeah... maybe." Lore sighed and lay her head against his chest, closing her eyes and hugging him around the waist.

"I'm always here, Lore." that was something he didn't have to lie about, "If we can't pick ourselves up, we'll pick each other up. Agreed?"

"Agreed." her tone lightened a little, and she slumped a little against him, "Thank you, Taci."

"Yeah, yeah." the fox managed to smile a bit. Even if he didn't believe his own bullshit, at least he'd managed to cheer her up a little. It'd have been an awfully gloomy cart ride if she'd spent it crying, and if anyone could tug at his heart strings, it was Lore. He breathed a little sigh of relief when he felt her breaths deepen and her body slump a little more. Sleeping off the rest of the trip sounded like a great idea. He whispered a goodnight to his friend and shut his eyes, trying his best to push her story to the back of his mind for now. It reminded him a little too much of his own.