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The prospect of capturing Iskra was far too tempting for Pentre to not follow on, tracing the footsteps as Aynor lead him to Iskra's presence.

Aynor helped Tron Pentre up the wall bringing him to Iskra. The sight of the defenceless tied up woman came accompanied with a loud laughter from the lord knight, thinking he had the upper hand of the game as he march forth unsheathing of his sword, ready to strike her down.

"Well well well fancy finding you roped up and ready to hang.... I assure you this time there will be no mistakes, no second chances you scurry scallywag" assured Tron walking closer in a steady footing

His attention was so focused on the bandit that he lost track of Aynor altogether, the Slayer wasted no time to cast net and ropes and seize the lord knight. Such unexpected turn of tides causing Pentre to strain, struggle to no avail and growl in anger

As Quintus’ voice echoed to her through the tunnel, her face flushed at the words, but ignored it as she stood still in front of the other harpy. Being face to face with them made her painfully aware of their height difference. She felt like she was shrinking as he looked her over.

At their answer, Atoli fluffed up indignantly and glared. “I-I’m not done growing!...And I think it is my business since Iskra didn’t mention that other harpies would be here.”

Atoli wrung her clawed hands together, her body tense as she stood her ground. It had been a long time since she had interacted with one of her own kind. It was going about as well as the last time, much to her dismay. At his last statement her head cocked to the side.

“Who? I don’t know any ‘Amdis’. But I do know your “Ma’…” Her brows furrowed when he stuck his tongue out. “I saved her. Twice. While you were sitting in that dank hole you call a base.”

Atoli looked up to glare into his eyes for a moment before looking away, disappointed; though unsure at whom. She began to back away; deciding to wait for Quintus to return outside. “Go ahead and fly to Mommy then.” She nearly spat the words.

At the Prince's exit from the cage Quintus nodded once to him stating simply, "we'll get you home safe sir" before turning to Alexei and stating, "get him ready for travel a.s.a.p, " turning heel he marched outwards, head on a swivel through the passages before the light from outside began to enter the tunnel.

Exiting from the cave he noted an irate Atoli standing to the side, "We'll be headed out soon" he stated simply before inquiring, "are you alright?" upon noticing the tense atmosphere between the two harpies. As fond of Atoli as he'd grown, the thought of getting back to the damn mage before their metaphorical timer ran out prevented him from diverging his focus on temporary trivial matters. 'back before nightfall, who even does that? who curses there own allies? and what kinda time limit is nightfall?' Quintus thought to himself, he'd been ignoring the thoughts but unbidden they began to seep out.

Iskra had just begun to wake, blinking the haziness from her eyes away until she heard Pentre’s laughter. Her eyes snapped up to him and she tended up, pressing herself harder against the wall as if she was trying to escape. He was right-tied up, exhausted, there really would be no second chance for escape in the state she was in.

And then came Aynor, with the rope and net. Iskra’s expression quickly changed to surprise, and then a smug sort of pleasure watching Pentre be tied up.

“Vell now, zhat must have been quite zhe backstabbing, hm?” The bandit chuckled. She stretched her legs, blowing a few strands of hair from her face as she glanced to Aynor, “Untie me.”


While Alexei grumbled about some “wanna-be hero” bossing him around, he did pull Merthyr upstairs, getting him equipped with armor for the trip, though leaving him in chains.


Wyvern glared, his feathers beginning to ruffle up around his neck. He ignored Quintus, and the young harpy moved to stand in front of Atoli, glaring down at her, “Oi, Lady. Have more respect for Ma. She took ya in, according ta Dunsten. Burned ya little shed? She’s King here, and if ya disrespect the king, we’ll bury ya in the ice, hear me?” He turned, taking a few steps away and glancing back at Atoli for a moment...It had been a while since he had seen a harpy who wasn’t out for his neck. Leaving the nest meant Amdis, the guard to their queen, was hunting him, and the idea made him anxious, but he knew in this world, allies were better and rarer than enemies.

“The name is Wyvern, picked it myself.” He grumbled finally, watching as a child ran past Quintus. A little boy, who looked hardly seven, with pointed ears and marks that signaled a high elf- the harpy, not skipping a beat, knelt down and allowed the child onto his back, turning to look to Quintus and Atoli, “Ya two are some damn fools if ya just listened ta whatever this magic man said. An Onyx Bandit never bows ta anyone but Iskra- especially not magic men.”

And with that, he kicked off the ground, shooting into the air with the child on his back- it would hinder his speed, but something about the way he moved said this was a common occurrence.

Atoli turned to Quintus as he appeared from the tunnel and let out her breath before nodding to him. She began to open her mouth to reply properly, but swiftly turned back to Wyvern when he stepped in front of her, looming ominously above her smaller form. A flash of alarm crossed her face before she glared and bristled in return. The smaller harpy instinctively shifted the position of her wings and squared her shoulders, fanning out the feathers on her wings to make her look larger. The bar of white on the tips of her wings was revealed as she did, flashing starkly against the rest of her dark form.

She held her ground as she replied, a small tremor in her voice. “I’ll give respect to those who earn it…” And watched with relief when he turned away and gave his name. “…Mine’s Atoli.” She replied curtly, but jumped in surprise when the small child ran past her. Atoli watched with shocked curiosity as it climbed on his back like it was second nature to both of them.

When Wyvern turned back to speak, Atoli simply stared at him, still fluffed up but speechless; Her mind blank of any comebacks. When he took to the sky and was out of view, she visibly deflated; feathers drooping back to their usual place and her shoulders slumping in relief. With a shaky hand, she combed her claws through her disheveled hair and through the feathers on her neck before walking back to Quintus.

She gave a cautious glance up at him before looking away; feeling publicly defeated made her cheeks grow hot in embarrassment. Despite this, she stood straight; her face was a mask of concentrated neutrality as she tried to hide how she felt. “I’m fine. Ready to leave.”

Merthyr emerged from the den glad to see daylight again.

He looked at Quintus ready to follow the knight's orders for it seemed he was in charge.

---

Aynor smiled broadly at Iskra's demand for release and Pentre's demand for release, bringing Pentre and sitting him right by Iskra's side.

"Don't you two look like a pair of love doves, so much hatred it could set this barn on fire if it wasn't burnt down already. You know Tron... I love gold... for sure.... but I love my woman all the more than gold. Too bad for you on this occasion that you are not my woman" simplified Aynor taking up a dagger and cutting Iskra loose

"You and I are off to Mercia right away, sultan Cenrid has a few questions to ask about Camelot..." explained Aynor and he paid me so well upfront to make this my biggest task." explained Aynor hauling Pentre up to his feet and looking at the warlock.

"If you could make the wall vanish, it would make lugging this lump all the easier..." asked Aynor looking at Taff who shook his head in refusal

"Until the prince stands unharmed in my presence, the wall is not vanishing and neither is the curse" dismissed Taff preparing food for lord knight Tron Pentre, some more for Iskra, some for Aynor and cheese and bread for himself.

Quintus raised an eyebrow at Atoli's display but said nothing, her embarrassment was evident and pushing wouldn't help, so he simply nodded "I am, once the prince is as well we'll head out" he responded casually, before moving his head to the side a bit. Would it be wise to ask?

"So...what was that about? are you alright?" he asked out of curiosity before the Prince's footsteps took his attention. He'd have to ask his questions later if time permitted. Instead of bowing to the Prince Quintus simply nodded, the Prince seemed ready to go judging by his gear which meant no more delays. "If you're ready sir we can start to head out" he informed him before making his way out of the camps entrance way. If his count was right they would still have a few hours to spare if they headed back now.

“I said I’m fine!” The harpy snapped before shutting her mouth tightly. She took a breath and glared at the ground, refusing to look up at Quintus. When his attention was drawn to the prince she hastily took flight, deciding to go on ahead. The small harpy flapped her wings and soared slowly over the trees, not wishing to catch up with Wyvern and his passenger. She looked at the forest floor in search of the glowing rune knight that had been following behind them. Atoli bit her lip, feeling a little guilty at yelling at Quintus; there wasn’t much to be done about it now.

Iskra seemed to tense up being out next to Pentre, glaring at Aynor before he cut her loose. She rubbed her neck and wrists, before taking a moment to listen to what was being said- the bandit pulled her lips into a small smirk, folding her arms, “Now, zhis is vhere ve have issues.” She chuckled, shaking her head at Aynor as one would to a spoiled child, “I am afraid you cannot take little Tron away from here. It vould be awfully boring vithout him to chase me...”

——————

While Wyvern was far ahead, there was something to be seen on the forest floor- an abnormally large wolf, with all black fur, simply sitting in a small clearing. When the creature looked up, it’s eyes were a shocking shade of green, uncomfortably human. And Atoli would hear— no, not hear, feel a voice in her head, one that beckoned her closer to the creature. But this was not the good kind of calling. This was the kind that signaled danger, like walking down an empty alleyway at night. The creature only watched her though, perhaps to see if she would follow through with its demands.

Within a few moments, however, a man had approached from the edge of the clearing, cloaked in all red, with a hood pulled up that concealed all else. He reached out to the wolf and the creature stood, coming nearly to the man’s chest, and the two vanished into the trees once again, in the same direction Wyvern had gone in, heading towards the wall.

————

”if you’re ready sir...” Lev grumbled, mocking Quintus’s voice as he did. Not surprisingly, Alexei didn’t bother reprimanding him for that, pulling Merthyr with them.

“He’s riding with me. We don’t need to risk him running off, not when the boss is at stake.” He said firmly, not liking the fact Quintus was being seen as the one in charge. In fact there really wasn’t much he liked about Quintus at this point, save for the fact he did appear to be attempting to help Iskra.

Aynor crossed his arms along the chest listening attentively

"I am swords for hire... my dear... if you can better Mercia's offering, then the knight is yours..." added Aynor in a nonchalant tone

"Sultan Cenrid is offering me a royal pardon for my best friend's son, Adrian Teach, a youth that Tron Pentre handed over to Mercian slavers and is now slaving away at the ports under Mercian royal guards watchful eyes" explained Aynor narrow eyed at the lord knight

"Cenrid adds a chest full of ranger weaponry which is the finest to be had, elven steel is, after all, one of a kind. What do you have to offer that could match and outweight the current going rate?" asked Aynor rubbing his chin thoughtfully and willing to negotiate

---

Merthyr was rather tired and rather quiet, preferring to follow the given orders, no questions asked, least these thugs changed their mind about his fate and welfare.

He had seen the butchery of his hunting party when he and Taff fell into Iskra's men's hands and he wasn't about to relive the awful experience if he could avoid it at any cost, enduring any tauntings with calmness and concealing all emotions, like princes were expected to do

Seeing as how they were all ready, Quintus saw no use in standing around, with an arm he motioned forwards before setting off at a jog. Atoli's angry response and quick take off had deprived him of a chance to apologize, or dig deeper and now a small feeling of foreboding had entered his gut. He'd have to be careful, instincts usually had some merit after all. He had yet to see the other warrior, which could mean a number of things and with a prince in tow and shrinking window for success, he could afford no mistakes or surprises.

"Move fast and we can put all this behind us, wouldn't want to keep your king waiting now would we" he said glancing towards Lev before giving small knowing nod. He'd heard his discontent, not that he cared. The bandits where the same ones that had been attacking his little village, a point he'd noticed after looking around at all the equipment and insignia's and realizing they were the same as those he'd dispatched. It was curious really, Iskra was their leader and yet the only reason he hadn't decided to kill them all was the odd alliance he'd seemed to form with her....well, that and the curse they now had. He'd be lying if he said it didn't anger him, they'd been responsible for the deaths of quite a few people. Shaking his head he continued forwards, "the mission comes first" he whispered.

Iskra laughed at Aynor’s words, the tone of her voice crass and full of confidence, “You dare trust zhe vords of some noble? Tsk, tsk.” She walked slowly to Tron, retrieving her dagger from her shirt- it was plain, hardly the gem her prized dagger was, but a blade was a blade and she lifted it to point it at Tron, “Noblemen, dear Aynor, are scum.

Zhey are fond of zheir own vill and life, and nozhing more. You may have zhe ear of zhis...” the woman paused, and would quickly butcher the pronunciation of the name, “Zultan Cenrid...But vill you be able to keep your head?” She traced the flat side of the dagger along Pentre’s face, across his cheek and gave him a vicious smile, “Nobleman like zhis Tron, handing off a poor innocent boy to slavers? Zhis is not uncommon. Especially not for Tron, zhe vorst of zhem all.” With a flick of her wrist, she left a shallow cut along Pentre’s jaw, and inspected the blood on her blade with a disgusted expression, as if it was filthy. To her, maybe it was.

She moved away from him, her harsh slate eyes sliding to Aynor, “And you? Zhe handsome rogue, trying to be zhe hero? Trust me. I tried zhat once. Tried to get zhis monster and his kind, more lords and knights, to stop my late husband. And you know what happened? I vas beaten. Vithin an inch of my life, I vas. And vhen I returned to my husbands side, bruised and bloody?” Iskra’s laughter had gone cold now, no longer proud and stubborn. Hollow. Haunted.

“I nearly died zhat night. For trying to save zhe rest of you from zhat horrible man. Aynor, fairy tales aren’t real. Zhis boy? Probably dead by now. Your little Z...Zultan is probably vaiting for you to return, and vill happily execute you both.” She slid her blade back into her shirt, where a holster was strapped. Iskra eyed them both with displeasure, but something sparked. Tron would recognize the look; it was the same expression that she made when she escaped from his grasp countless times, a look of mischief and of pure glee. Her lips pulled into a thin smile, but she had yet to speak.

—————

“Let’s get going.” Alexei grumbled, “I’m not fond of being turned to a cripple, and Sir Iskra isn’t patient. She’s gonna lose her temper.”

“As usual.” Lev cut in, shrugging, and Alexei simply rolled his eyes, urging his horse forward and deeper into the woods.

The ride there was mostly pleasant, but somewhere along the trip Lev began to look anxious. His eyes scanned along the trees, and he moved his horse quietly to Quintus’s side, “Oi, Knight. There’s somethin’ out here. I can feel it.” Though he himself wasn’t too talented with the act of spell casting, Lev had magic in his blood, and it often times reacted when other users were near. Normally, this wouldn’t concern him...but whoever (or whatever) was hidden in the trees, it left him anxious.

In fact, the feeling had slowly begun to permeate the air...the feeling of someone just barely out of sight, a shadow moving just beyond the darkness of the trees.

And then, a voice only Merthyr would head, straight in his head, “Would you like me to rescue you, your highness? You only need speak, and I will come to your aid.” The voice was deep and rumbling; hardly the messy accent Iskra had, though there was a faint accent that seemed like her own.

Tron Pentre smirked at Iskra's comment and haunted looks



"Running from your husband and coming to me for assistance was but a mistake from your part and... letting you go back to him... alive...was a mistake from mine. Had I but guessed the striffe you would cause later.. I should have finished you both there and then, when you were of even less importance than you are now.

What made you think you held any worth back then? It still amuses me that you thought you might get assistance without wealth to pay for the services and protection. At the time, you were but one more commoner, very disposable.

Why on earth should I have wasted my time, effort and men to deal with the likes of you or your brute, uh? If your husband ends your life or you finish his it merely saves rope and wasted effort and pointless trials" spat Tron Pentre

"All you are good for, these days, is the dangling ropes of the gallows and I will see to it that it happens sooner or later. You can run, but you can't hide and sooner or later your luck will run out, especially when I find your offspring and run them through with my blade.

I bet all you ever do is breed spawns like rodents do, seeing how easily you seduced this outlaw makes you an even more promiscuous and sleezy woman that I thought you to be. Not bad... for a widow... I guess you must rely on your womanly features and touch to get your men to do your bidding uh?

Always in the run, hiding away, living in the wilderness and stealing others lives, stock, produce and savings, no doubt to feed your brood like pestilent rats do. " smirked Tron Pentre, a look of dangerous warning in his eyes.

Aynor smacked Tron Pentre across the face, tied him better, gagged and blindfolded him for good measure as he spoke to Iskra



"Me? Trying to be the hero?" chuckled Aynor shaking his head "No hero to be found here, darling. I simply do it for the gold, purely selfish reasons, believe me. A man's got to eat after all. No one gives weapons, gold or food for free unless you kill others for them" assured Aynor dispelling any assumptions of chivalry

"As for Cenrid... of course I will keep my head over my shoulders, and a chest full of gold too... the few that ever dared double cross me are but a pile of bones by now. See, my reputation preceeds me, they do call me the Slayer of Mercia for a reason" smiled Aynor

"The only time Cenrid underpaid me, it cost him his father's life... when he had me arrested, it cost him his wife's life... he only has a daughter left, one he cherishes enough to pay up in full and on time" mused Aynor "I always take my dues, one way or other, after all." ascertained Aynor

"Besides, Cenrid is not interested in killing Tron Pentre quickly, any time soon. Dead men tell no tales after all. If tavern rumours are certain, Cenrid wants to know about Camelot's defences to capture the prince of Camelot and force a marriage between the two kingdoms to his advantage... for that... he needs this man alive, preferrably able to see and hear and talk" shrugged Aynor

The path was clear for a long while and Quintus was almost at ease if not for his mind going over Atoli's departure. She'd vanished for quite a while now and he still had yet to catch any sign of her. It was troubling, but perhaps she'd simply decided to leave their ragtag group. Dwelling on it was starting to get to him, especially with all the quiet. The quiet....his eyes narrowed. He'd been so caught up in his thoughts he hadn't noticed the extreme absence of noise around them, in fact, he'd been thankful for it. Now it troubled him, it was night, the noise of insects and night time creature should be all around, but there was nothing. An eye on his radar caught faint whispers of a signature flickering into existence and then out just as quick. They were being hunted, his eyes narrowed and he began to examine the forest in front. Past experience usually meant an ambush was being set up, and this was likely the case here as well.

As he slowed one of the bandits, Lex if he remembered correctly moved beside him and whispered
“Oi, Knight. There’s somethin’ out here. I can feel it.”
The bandits instinct simply confirmed his own and he raised a hand in a stopping motion for the group before looking at Lex.
"I noticed it too, no noise, faint movements....like we're being hunted, any ideas?"
His eye was drawn to Merthyr as he waited for a response, the expression on his face brought even more concern. Something was wrong.

Iskra’s smile had only grown more ferocious when Pentre mentioned children. But she let Aynor bind him up, and listened to his words, “Vell I have trade I’d like to make vith you zhen...but I’m afraid I’m going to have to make offer later.”

Her eyes hadn’t once left Pentre’s face, and though she stood calmly, the anger in her eyes was clear. She walked to Pentre, brushing her hand over his cheek, “Now you, you’re a fool. If a true Sokol child...If a child vith my blood is born, oh you’re all damned. I vould raise a beast like no other, I assure you. And who knows, I could alvays ask Aynor to help me vith zhat.” She chuckled, glancing at the rogue, “I certainly have my vays of bending men to my vill, but it involves more violence and less charisma.

But my sons now are...not mine by choice. Zhey’ve grown on me, of course, but zhey’re certainly not blood. Do you remember little vhile ago, vhen zhose elves vere threatening var for zheir missing son, zhe little prince? You’ll be pleased to hear zhat I’ve taken zhe little boy in...My ozher son got bored and vanted a brozher...so he just plucked zhe little zhing off of his balcony.”

“Ma!”

Iskra looked up suddenly, towards the entrance to the barn, and a wicked smile lit up her face. The woman could insist that she hadn’t chosen to take on sons...but there was no denying the pride on her face and in her eyes when she looked to the two boys. She chuckled and patted Pentre’s cheek, “If zhis night goes my vay, Pentre, and it alvays does...you’ll be zhe only one who hangs tonight.” She leaned up on her toes and pecked his cheek with a light laugh, before pushing away from him. Now, Iskra leaned on Aynor, looking at her two sons.

Wyvern sat with his arms folded, the feathers forming a tight sheild around the front of him, and sure enough, holding onto the harpies neck, was the missing prince; the blue hue to his ears and the markings on his face gave him away, not to mention the vibrant peachy hair. They both watched Aynor with eyebrows raised, “...Who are these sods?” Wyvern finally piped up, looking to Iskra.

“Friends,” the woman hummed in response, “Aynor, Pentre, Taff- meet my sons, Wyvern and Theodwin Sokol. The closest things to Sokol children we’ll ever see in my lifetime.”

——————————————

“I got a feeling but...I don’t wanna admit it could be him. The boss killed him years ago, he ain’t...” Lev swallowed anxiously, “he ain’t supposed to be alive. He’ll kill us all if he is...”

“Hey. You two.” Alexei grumbled, “If you’re done whispering, care to inform the rest of us as to what you’re talking about.”


”I’ll make myself known at some point, Prince, but would you rather it benefit you now?” the voice asked Merthyr once more, ”You need only agree; I want nothing from you other than the satisfaction of taking her prey...your life will be assured. I cannot say the same for these Bandits you ride with...but is that truly a problem...?”