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Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown Ch 4-1, Reversal of Fortunes

If the several days spent healing among the underground church had tested Alarice's patience, then the quiet, shadow-to-shadow movement through Newport's city streets that night tested her nerve. The human woman couldn't remember the last time she had been so apprehensive about any covert action and she wasn't certain which likely reason for that was worse. Between her last run in with the Order of the Blades having ended so badly and the thought of having grown soft during her convalescence... neither option really appealed to her. Instead, she simply attributed her jitters to recent dreams.

The night hours had not been kind to her mind; without mental stimulation to occupy her during the day it left her busy brain seeking an outlet as she slept... and that meant dreams... lots of dreams... too many dreams. As recent as the prior day she had been a mess-- shaking hands, distracted thoughts, trouble concentrating... but, as she raised her hand to look at it in the shadowy light where she hid in an alley she was relieved to see that it was as still as stone; there was something to be said about renewed purpose.

The woman had slept well ever since she had started the plans for the attack on the Order of Blades. With renewed conviction and a direction in which she could channel her frustration, Alarice had spent the entire previous day and much of the night in preparation. She once again had a goal in mind and knew the steps needed to get there. The few scant hours of sleep she had taken during the morning and noon-time of the day were far more rejuvenating than any of the prior nights that troubled her with phantasms and images of the past. Her senses were once again astute, and she didn't need to look over her shoulder to know that it was Inigo who was approaching her from the back of the alley.

His voice was hardly above a whisper, "It's a shame you're clothed... I've always enjoyed coming at you from behind."

The bat was apprehensive-- he wouldn't think twice at a lewd remark to anyone else but the only time he presented one to her was when he stress was getting to him. She was not about to condone it, but neither was she about to add more to Inigo's plate. Instead, she simply reached behind her and, without even looking, grabbed firm hold of his belt and pulled him forward until he was right up against her back, "Make it through this without either of us getting killed and you can come at me from whatever direction you like... but until then--" she gave him a push back, "keep it in your trousers and focus on your other sword."

He settled against the wall behind her, immediately returning to business, "The scholars are three blocks back." Alarice had been surprised when the bat had first told her that he had somehow convinced them to help out in the attack but, then again, they were, for the most part proud men... and proud men did not normally enjoy the prospect of being completely and undeniably beaten to a pulp. What it amounted to, she wagered, was that they were just as eager for revenge as she... which meant that she had a very important resource: explosives.

She and Inigo had worked together long enough that she didn't have to be very specific, "How are they transporting it?"

The bat had no trouble understanding her meaning, "Pony kegs... four of them. Alvis is carrying one and Joshew has three." Alarice could hear Inigo's snicker, "I guess Roland has a 'thing' about it... something between him and Joshew... but he's just leading his human like a pack mule... it's almost romantic, in a fetish sorta way."

Alarice rolled her eyes, "Inigo... you are the only bat in all the world who considers fetishes romantic."

Her bodyguard shifted behind her, and she heard him jump to grab hold of a metal ladder attached to a fire escape overhead. Inigo called down to her before climbing up it, "Romance is a fetish itself."

The human woman let the bat go; she had arrived at their rally point, and there was nothing to do but to wait for the group to gather up. It had been Wiesen's idea to travel separately, converging on the alley where she was positioned. The dragon would be traveling southward from the city center while Sada would be coming up from the docks. The scholars, who where the weakest part of the plan, traveled the shortest distance, coming directly from the warehouse situated immediately above the underground church.

Unlike the unfortunate events that had occurred the last time the group had faced off against the Order of Blades, they were much better prepared. Despite being a little stiff and sore from her recovery, Alarice was healed, and she was ready for combat. Her armor had been patched, and she reinforced some areas with extra metal plates sewn into the leather at strategic areas that would further protect her from harm without hampering her agility. She had requested the same for Inigo, and the church had even replaced the blade he had lost.

Sada, who had previously been armed only with a frying pan, had taken her leave from the Church with combat leather, a knife, and a short sword; while Alarice had no doubt that the otter would be useless in a toe-to-toe fight, she had full confidence that the smaller weapons would suit Sada well with her style of attacking from behind. Although it had been nearly two hours since the human woman had caught sight of the otter, Alarice knew that Sada had as much of an investment on the attack as they... more, most likely, since it was she who had apparently sought the group's aid in it. As if thinking about the otter were enough to summon her, Alarice heard the tell-tale bird call Inigo used to indicate that another 'asset' was in place.

The human woman answered the call with one of her own as she spotted Wiesen. The large dragon somehow managed to blend in easily with the shadows despite his size, and most unfortunate light coloration. Alarice knew the ex-Templar was wearing his combat armor, but, as always, it was carefully covered by a non-descript traveler's robe. Nevertheless, she saw that he already had his sword in a talon and, as she watched him, he brought his other arm up, uncurling his fingers. A small, metallic object took flight, spiraling up into the air... and shot off faster than Alarice could track in the direction of the two story manner-like building the group had sought out as one of the Order's staging buildings.

It was Wiesen's investigative and interrogation skills that had originally uncovered the Order of Blades base. The dragon was certainly a force to be reckoned with and, for was was probably the sixth or seventh time since she had met him, she was glad to have him on her side. Once everything had settled down she even contemplated the idea of offering the ex-Templar a more permanent business partnership... it was quite a lucrative prospect having such a skilled individual working for her.

Alarice continued watching the dragon until she caught the pale lavender glint of his eyes focusing in on her; she raised a hand silently in his direction and his talon raised into the air to signal that he noticed her as well. He followed it up with a gesture and another, most likely identifying that he saw both Inigo and Sada in position above her. With the all of the combatants and their look-out in place that left them waiting for the scholars... which meant only a handful of minutes before Alarice would be able to get her retribution. She decided to make good use of that time.

Despite all of the accessible holsters the woman had available for firearms, she never felt right without at least four slips for holdout weapons. Most pistols were capable of being reloaded if the gunner had extra time, but holdout pistols were a last ditch weapon that could fire only once. Accurate only at very close range they were considered an act of desperation, or a go-to choice for the particularly choosy (and entirely too flashy) assassin. Alarice had learned to use them early in her career when the more obvious holsters just wouldn't get past a keen eye... and she had then made them a more permanent part of her load out.

The woman sat down on a worn metal garbage bin and pulled out the first holdout from where it rested snugly in her bodice. She picked up a discarded scrap of metal and carefully scraped away at the wood of the gun until a very discernible 'Geoffrey' was carved into it. She returned the holdout and took her second out from the other side of her bodice, scribing 'Faula' into its wooden body. That was likewise put away; if she had the opportunity she would fire each weapon, giving her employees-- no... the closest thing she had to friends some taste of retribution, and one final kill each before the night was done.

She was pulled from her thoughts by a very distinct, very distracting buzzing sound. Looking up, the woman froze in place as she saw a large pearl-and-metal dragonfly buzzing in the air directly in front of her, the flawless metallic sheen of its legs glinting a reflection of one of the oil lamps further up the street. In its six spindly legs it held a device that Alarice recognized, albeit, much smaller than the ones she usually saw. The speaking box addressed her in Wiesen's voice, "Ms. Alarice... I have viewed the base, and is only lightly guarded; if it normally houses more than half a dozen men then the rest must be out."

A smile crept upon the woman's lips, and she replied quietly, "All the better... we will take care of the guards have their barracks razed before they knew what happened."

Wiesen's voice came through the talk box, a hint of severity hiding his mirth, "I have a feeling they will not particularly appreciate their preferred tactics used against them."

She responded bluntly, "Surgeons make the worst patients. Nobody likes tasting their own medicine."

"Very well. I will remain here and wait for your signal." and, with that, the beautifully crafted clockwork dragonfly zipped off out of view into the sky. Alarice mused again how incredibly useful Wiesen could be if, once everything was said and done, he was in a mind to join her very worthwhile employ.

The woman waited around for some three or four more minutes before she heard the achingly obvious sound of footfall approaching her from the alley. Turning, she saw the three scholars drawing near; while she assumed that the blind man would be making the most noise, she was actually quite confounded to see that he was much more sure of foot and the majority of the sound generated came from Roland, who kept bumping things with his feet as he searched his way through the darkness... and Alvis, who was scuffing his feet noticeably beneath the weight of the keg he carried. Alarice simply sighed and shook her head at the reminder of why she chose to travel so far ahead of the scholars.

Things FINALLY quieted down again when Roland stopped the party and announced in a quiet tone, "We're here."

Joshew was quick to ask for a layout of what they were approaching and Alarice grit her teeth at the worrisome chatter. It was necessary, of course, as it was up to Joshew and Roland to set the charges-- the former because of his familiarity with the explosives and the latter because he was, out of the three of them, most familiar with engineering... or so he said. Once the description was complete, Joshew got straight down to business, "Where do we set the charges?"

Alarice turned to regard the wolf-dog as he cleared his throat, "Well... uh... the building is a LITTLE larger than I'd expected at first."

The woman sighed and went straight to the point, "Do we have enough to level the thing?"

Roland hesitated before answering, "That... depends on what the interior is like."

Alarice frowned, "I thought we were going to destroy the outer walls and collapse the thing."

The wolf-dog shrugged helplessly, "We can implode it... but that means setting the explosives inside.... otherwise we could probably take down an entire wing, but that's about it."

The woman returned her expression to neutral as she realized what the opportunity presented, "No... Wiesen already said that the building is almost empty... we came here to do the job so we're going to do it right."

Alvis spoke up at a whisper, "If it's almost empty then we won't really be hurting their manpower... is it worth the risk?"

Joshew chimed in, "This is about making a statement, not about killing people... and I agree... we'll blow the whole damned thing and that should get the idea across."

Alvis' tail tucked slightly, "Or just make them mad."

The human scholar ignored the objection, eyes gazing (albeit, unfocused) right at Alarice, "So.. what's the plan?"

The woman paused, taking a moment to consider the options. They had a number of different possibilities, of course, the fact that the explosives weren't sufficient did change her original thought on the matter. As she weighed her options she heard the sound of Inigo dropping down behind her. She asked him without turning around, "Did you count the sentries?"

The bat reported immediately, "One hanging out near the door and two on balconies."

She nodded, "Wiesen said that he counted six... to be on the safe side we'll assume you each found different men, so that makes a total of nine."

Alvis fidgeted, "Can't we assume they saw the SAME men? I mean... I'd rather have to deal with six instead of--"

Roland frowned, "This isn't a 'best case scenario' or 'what we hope will happen' thing, Alvis... we have to assume 'worst case scenario' here."

Alarice let the scholars get their bickering out of their systems, taking the opportunity to give them a once-over. Thankfully they were all better prepared than they were for the last fight--they all had combat leathers, and both of the sighted scholars were also properly armed; Alvis had a sabre and a main gauche while Roland had a rapier and a short sword... Joshew, unsurprisingly, still had his staff, and remained otherwise unarmed. The woman didn't hold it against him; not only was he not a fighter, but being a blind non-combatant didn't really lend itself to swordplay.

As that thought stuck in her mind, a new one entered. "Here."

Joshew seemed surprise by the light impact of the pistol-butt against his stomach, "What?" he questioned, taking hold of the weapon, "Is... this... what I think it is?"

Alarice rotated it in his grasp until he was holding it correctly, "With any luck you won't need it... but, if you're in trouble, hold it just like that and pull the metal catch with your finger... whether you hit or not it should catch your attacker by surprise and might get you a few extra seconds of life."

The scholar's milky white eyes narrowed as he scowled, stowing it in his robe, "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Alvis' tail ALMOST wagged as he noted gruffly, "This isn't a 'best case scenario' or 'what we hope will'-- OW!" he yelped when Roland punched him in the shoulder.

Inigo glanced between Alarice and the scholars, "So... not enough boom-juice, huh? We're really going inside then?"

Joshew tisked, "It's not juice.... it's powder."

The bat shrugged, "Whatever."

Alarice's response was very succinct, "Shut up." Once everyone did as was demanded of them, she knelt down and began formulating a very rudimentary map of the area. She felt her heart begin to pick up the pace-- it was really going to happen! "Alright... this is what we're going to do..."