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Line of Questioning

Summary: As Corporal Lucius Nepos takes a shortcut back to East Leg, he stumbles across a secret encampment of mages who take him captive.

Cast: Lucius Nepos Seventeen

Air Date: Sometime in the year 623 (June 18, 2011)

Setting: Outside of East Leg

Away from the bustle of East Leg is a quiet, twisting road that eventually leads to a picturesque glade. Just outside of the copse of trees is an open field of deep green, grown almost to a an average sized person's waist. Ancient oaks stretch high into the air and the smell of different flowers permeates the area, a different scent for each time of the day. A small pond is the focal point of this area, with a small stream trickling in fresh water. The pond is full of fish and all along the edges wave cat-tails. It is a place of peace and serenity.

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Quiet night in the glade. A few bobbing lights can be seen along the treeline, a subtle indication that there are multiple people moving around. One stands in the open field, a sentry of sorts. It's a familiar face - the same one who took a swing at Lucius a few nights before.

As usual, Nepos is being used as a messenger for the Imperial Inspector of the Troops, his boss Captain Marron Seamel. Unfortunately, the competent young soldier's comitted an error of judgement tonight, and is both on foot and alone. He's got his backpack on in case he's got to stay the night outside, his shield slung over it. As he approaches the lit area, he squints, dropping to a knee. He slowly pulls his shield from his back. "I'm a bloody idiot, I am." Even more slowly, the Corporal rises up and approaches the lights. He doesn't yet notice exactly who the sentry is, but he walks towards him.

"Bloody shades," the man mutters. "For decades we've operated in stealth and gone unobserved. Where in the Light-cursed mule's ass are all of these people coming from /now/?" A hand falls to rest on the sheathed blade at his side.

"'Ey, mate. What in the Light are you doing on the side of the road?" Asks Nepos, obviously still not recognizing the shadowed figure in the middle of the night. His eyebrows rise, and he stops twenty five, thirty metres away from him. His eyes dart to the man's hands, resting on top of the blade. "Woah, there. You might want to reconsider that."

"It's you," the man half growls, eying Lucius up and down. "Shades, I'll take you in just because of who you are." A nasty smile appears. "See how she twists and turns after that one."

Lucius Nepos shifts his shield so it's in front of him, slowly drawing his sword from its scabbard. "You see this?" He taps his sword on the edge of his shield, lightly, motioning at the painted insignia on it barely visible in the low light. "That's the Imperial Westwatch Regiment. You're talking to a Blade, lad. Tread carefully."

There's a sharp whistle and some of the lights from the trees still and out emerges a few other figures, this time cloaked and hooded. A few more approach from behind Lucius, leaving five in total carrying different weapons. "I don't think we care much for Blades wandering onto our turf," the original man hisses out. "Whatcha think, boys? We make an example out of this one?"

"Into your turf? As far as I know, this is Lomasa territory. And House Lomasa's in the Empire." Lucius declares, his sneer showing a naked contempt, though he mutters a curse to himself, none the less. "Which makes it /my/ territory. If you wanna piss yourselves and run off, I suggest you do it now before I make examples of YOU for threatening one of His Majesty's soldiers." He spits on the ground, assuming a proper defensive stance.

The two standing behind Lucius come at him first in a one two punch, one bearing a mace while the other holds a long sword. The mace comes at the Blade's head, while the sword is in an attempt to distract, aimed more for a jab at the stomach.

"Obviously." Nepos has been fighting on and off for the last six years, and is well trained. More than that, his body and senses are tuned to fighting, so when the patter of feet is heard behind him, the Blade does a pivot on his back foot and drops down. His shield moves tight into the body, simultaneously deflecting the sword blow and rising up to smack the mace away. The next move is made with the shield again, and it's a ram with the centre of the shield, the hard metal 'boss', towards the face of the mace-man.

It's a glancing blow that the mace-man receives, but enough to make him stagger back. Two more jump into the fray, swinging swords and maces to maim and wound Lucius, but none with the intention to kill.

Now he's got three instead of two fighting against him. With further difficulty, he just manages to turn the two newcomers sword and mace away from his body, but his shield is pulled wide. The third man's sword blow lands true in this open spot, but it doesn't do much more than nick him - it's stuck in the bands of Nepos's cuirass. Using the moment of weakness to his advantage, the Blade tries to press him by thrusting his sword to the beleagured assailant's body.

A yelp in pain as the sword thrusts into the man's shoulder. In a surprising move, he just advances, pushing the blade deeper, and therefore making it all the harder to remove. He bats at the blade to try and force Lucius to release it as the others come in for another volley of attacks.

This time it's nearly impossible for Nepos to defend against attack, given that his sword is buried deep in the man's shoulder. He does the next best thing - he releases grip on the pommel, but not before pulling down as hard as he can to try and do more damage. Then he turns around again, batting off the attacks with his shield once more. A dagger is drawn from his belt, but it appears that he's being quickly overwhelmed. He holds his position and looks behind him, offering another backwards stab to the man who's got his sword lodged in him. A very dangerous proposition, as he now has enemies very close to his front and rear.

They swarm like insects, aiming for light cuts along Lucius' body to weaken and cause pain. While thusly distracted, the fifth and most likely leader of this group approaches from behind and lays a hard blow against the back of his skull with the flat of his blade, probably a bit harder than necessary to bring him down.

While his armour and shield both do a very good job of protecting him, and his knife blow to the man behind him sinks the dagger deep into the man gut, there is only so much one man, disarmed and surrounded, can do. The blow hits him hard, his eyes going glassy and a surprised gasp escaping from his mouth. The gasp takes all of his breath with it, the Blade stumbling for a few moments before he collapses in a heap.

"Bring him," the leader says with a grunt. "Warren as well. We'll see to his wounds back at camp." One of the cloaked figures hefts Lucius up, while the others are a bit gentler with one of their own. It's about a half a mile hike to the glade and through it to the deepest reaches where a few campfires burn in small, controlled areas and many cloaked figures roam about, most of them unhooded, therefore revealing their features. "Someone fetch Seventeen," the leader calls.

It's said by healers that it is very dangerous if a man knocked unconcious does not come to within a few minutes of being knocked out. Well, Lucius has been coming to... and passing back out several times, already. He's still not fully aware of his surroundings once he's in the camp, but he's at least not severely damaged. The strong, now very dented helmet probably attributes to that.

Lucius is dumped rather unceremoniously by a tree and the men go about tying his hands and feet together before binding him to the tree itself. Make sure he doesn't go anywhere and all of that. Sooner or later, the mage known as Seventeen appears, though slightly out of the Blade's range of sight, and barely seen through the milling figures. She appears to be conversing with the leader of the small group before, "YOU DID /WHAT/?!" The voice is furious.

Lucius Nepos begins to seriously wake up now, with an absolutely awful migrane pounding his head. "Ugh.." Are the only words he can manage as his eyes open half way. He leans forward and vomits on the ground. Once his bleary eyes have cleared a bit, he tries to shift a bit to the side, out of the way of his vomit. The Blade is in no way ready to survey his surroundings. That mace hit him /hard/.

"On what authority do you think you had the right to do such a thing?" The angry voice of Seventeen still echos through the encampment. "How dare you defy my orders. You were told to leave the Blade alone. Garren, be warned, you are on thin ice."

Garren himself doesn't seem too worried, in fact pleased by the turn of events. "So what will you do with him? He could have vital information. At the very least, you need to question him. I know of ways to make him talk." He smirks. "If nothing else, you can't let him go or he'll go running off to tell on us and then we're all royally screwed."

Lucius Nepos begins to blink a bit more. This is a good sign for him, as he's becoming fully conscious of what's around him. "Tied up..." He winces at the sounds of people yelling. None of this is good for his head.

There is a growl from Seventeen as she strides toward the bound Lucius, drawing up her hood to cover her features. Others move side for the smaller woman, and she stops in front of the Blade, scowling. "Listen to me, Blade," she says coldly, voice ringing with anger. "You will tell me what I wish to know, or you will suffer pain as you have never experienced before." Garren slips up behind Seventeen, just to watch and enjoy the show.

Lucius Nepos doesn't seem to remember who is speaking to him, despite the fact that she was in his head the other night. He's still very dazed. "Uh." Is his only answer.

"Listen to me, Blade." Seventeen's voice says loudly. "For your life could depend on it." Her eyes narrow. "How many know where you went tonight? How long will it be before they start a search for you?"

"My boss, and second in command knew." Nepos says after a few moments of silence. He shakes his head, still snapping to reality. "Uh... don't know. Tomorrow? The day after? I took a shortcut... they don't know I went this way."

Seventeen smiles slightly, "Where were you headed, Blade? What was your task?" She takes a few steps in, kneeling to take a thin blade from her boot. "What information have you gathered regarding the mage presence in East Leg?"

"I was ordered to deliver a message to a platoon outpost at the crossroads of Wedgecrest, just before the Gate of Onions on the east side of the city. Instead of taking a detachment of three, I went alone. And my horse is down with something... don't know what. So I didn't take him. Or any other horse. I'm a bloody idiot. Took this 'shortcut' on the way back." Nepos grimaces, shaking his head a litle bit. The pain caused by such a movement makes him wince, but he goes on answering. "None, really. I saw that idiot noble guard take a swing at one the other day." He seems to regard the blade as if it's not much of a credible threat to him.

Seventeen smirks, "They're all idiots, Blade," she says coolly. "Are you certain you know nothing of us? What of the situation between Lomasa and Zahir?" she continues. "What have you gathered on that?"

"That someone wanted me to believe that the Zahir were planning an attack on the Lomasa." Nepos squints his eyes, trying to remember something. He's quiet for a moment, before he frowns. "It was you. You led us that day. "

"Yes, I did," Seventeen agrees. She rises to her feet and smirks. "You are awfully talkative for a Blade," she muses. "I wonder if this is just a tactic to ensure we don't dig too deep into your answers."

"What's the point of not telling you what I know? I'm a Corporal in the Blades." He nods at his bracers, which display his rank. "I don't know much. If I don't tell you what little I do know, you'll probably figure it out. Besides, I'm your captive. I'm tied to a bloody tree. What in the Light would you do?"

There is a considering silence before Seventeen looks over her shoulder. "Bring her," the mage says gruffly. Out of the darkness comes three figures, which solidify into two dark cloaked men dragging a smaller, more delicate figured woman with blond hair and blue eyes. Avelyn. "My companion," she nods towards Garren who is positively gleeful, "Has informed me of your soft spot for the girl. Maybe bodily harm on her will convince you to be brutally honest with us."

Lucius Nepos's eyes widen at the sight of Avelyn, his heart beating a mighty cadence inside his chest. Were it not for the cuirass which covers his torso, it might even be audible to those around him. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out at first. He composes himself a little more, looking from Avelyn to Seventeen. "I..uh. What do you want me to tell you? I told the Duchess Lomasa about seeing the Zahir guards. I know that both Houses are building their forces, but that's it!"

The form of Avelyn whimpers a little as one of the guards tightens his grip on her arm, fingers bruising her delicate flesh. "Please let me go," she whispers. "Please." Her voice is soft, barely floating across to where Lucius sits, bound.

Seventeen just chuckles, a cold, cruel sound. "What were Zahir and Lomasa's responses to these rumors?" she asks, twirling the blade in her finger as she steps across to where the little tailor stands, drawing the tip of the blade up, over the laces of the woman's corset, cutting the ties and letting the fabric fall to the ground.

"I don't know about Zahirs. I haven't talked to any Zahir about anything since before the whole thing, except when I saw the Duchess Zahir drunk the other day. But she was bloody coming on to me in public and I was trying to act proper, so I just shut my yap completely and hoped I wouldn't be noticed." Nepos says, looking alert now as if he had never been hit at all. "You know, you may well leave her alone. I get the bloody point. As far as the Lomasa, well, she wasn't too sure if it was real or manufactured. Zahir territory's on the other side of Fastheld."

"Oh, but I think I am rather enjoying watching you squirm, Blade," Seventeen murmurs. The knife cuts at the little blond's gown, revealing some pale shoulder. "Hmm." A long, shallow cut is drawn across her chest, a few inches above the neckline of the dress which elicits a sob of pain. Avelyn struggles but is held firmly against her will.

"I bet you are." Nepos's lips form into a thin line, and he watches the knife go across Avelyn's chest without comment or change of expression. He steels himself with a deep breath.

The butchering of Avelyn's gown continues, with little slashes here and there revealing more and more of the tailor's luscious figure and smooth skin. Seventeen turns to eye Lucius for a moment before gesturing toward Garren. "Take your little whore back and entertain yourself for a while. Once your done, kill her and dispose of the body." Now Avelyn shrieks in fear, her struggling getting kicked up a notch. "Lucius, help me," she pleads.

Lucius Nepos let's out a great big sigh as Avelyn is dragged away, but keeps his expression steely eyed and stonily neutral. His hands, though, clench behind his back, tied up as they are. He looks back at Seventeen, finally. "Well? What?"

The sobbing doesn't stop as Avelyn disappears into the treeline. Seventeen eyes Lucius for a moment, "Well you're no fun, Blade," she decides. "Guess it's true what they say then. Soldiers have no hearts and are quite content to let anyone else suffer in their stead."

"I told you what I knew, witch." Lucius answers to that, not moving his eyes. They stay locked on where Seventeen's eyes would be, presumably, were she not hooded.

Seventeen's arms cross over her chest. "Would you like to save her, Blade?" she inquires. "Be her hero and come running to her rescue as the bad man seeks to defile her?" She just chuckles. "It doesn't exist. Heroes are just a figment of our imaginations."

"You're right. They are. I never claimed to be a hero. But you know about yourself, deep in your heart, even if you don't care. That," Lucius nods towards the direction in which Avelyn was dragged, "will not reflect well on you. So. What?"

"Call it my curiosity to your reaction," Seventeen muses. "To see if you would break in the face of a loved one being threatened. Hat's off to you, Blade, you did not break. So her death can be on your shoulders, for caring more for your pride than her." The mage turns away, starting to walk away.

"Don't patronize me. Her death is on your shoulders. You had no good intentions." Nepos sneers at Seventeen, spitting on the ground.

Seventeen chuckles, "I have no illusions of the type of person I am," she replies. "But at least I am honest about them." She turns back to Lucius. "Did you ever bother to tell her she meant anything to you, or did you let her suffer? Well now you'll suffer because despite your words, I'm sure you /will/ believe you are responsible for her death. And you are."

"No. I'm no lad anymore, witch. Your words don't work on me. I know what I know. If you think this is the first time I'm around people like you, you're wrong. Maybe they weren't mages, but followers of a darker path, anyways. What's your whole point then?" Asks Lucius, not bothering to conceal a hostile tone.

Without another word to Lucius, Seventeen wanders off, back toward camp, gathering a few of her cloaked brethren to her as they speak in low tones.

Lucius Nepos falls silent as Seventeen wanders off, the headache returning to his skull. He lets his breathing slow down, regulating it carefully.