Padron sighed when he returned to the place where he had dropped his captives and found that they obviously had decided not to remain captives. They were gone. Still, today the Phantom had nearly been captured, so the Regent should be pleased that they had managed to get that close--the Phantom seemed to be slacking off.

His boots making quiet thuds against the cobblestone road, Padron walked back towards the more populated areas of the city. Today could have gone better, but still, they were getting closer to capturing the Phantom every day. Once he was captured, Padron hadn't a clue about what he would do. Maybe he would be employed to hunt down the Phantom's followers--they certainly seemed to be in no small numbers.

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Threng tensed as unseen foes attacked the wagon. Three landed on the wagon, and three others on the ground. ONe alreand was killed under the hooves of Ardan's horse. Threng nudged Storm to do the same. Despite having worked alone for so many years, he found that a well trained horse did wonders. He had picked her out himself: She looked to be strong and nimble, even as a filly. With his long patient training she made a war horse even the veteran sodiers would envy. He gave her the signal: a little nudge, a tug on the reins, a heavy seat. She reared, slasihing with her fore legs. She caught the man in the face, sending him reeling backwards into tree. Confident that it would be a while before he got up, Threng glanced around quickly for his next target.

Cato meandered down a dirt road on his black steed. Under his mask was a face engaged in concentration on his current situation. He had been run out of his last abode by a group of Inquisitors, but they didn't understand his mission. Cato wanted to preserve order. He wanted to kill Phantom Grey.

OoC.I'll leave it to someone else to encounter Cato.

OOC: can my character? Sinse she really has nothing to do and has not much interaction with any other character? If not, I'll edit

IC: Elizabeth saw, in the distance, the shadow of a rider. It's figure was hidden by a black cloak, and she couldn't make out any other features for it was against the sun. She ran closer to get a better look of the stranger, and had her slingshot in hand and ready...

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(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

OoC.Ok.

Cato snapped out of his thoughts and noticed the barest shadow moving about the side of the road. He stopped his horse and dismounted, drawing a sword from under his cloak.

Elizabeth stopped a few feet from the stranger to find he had dismounted, and now had a sword drawn. She paused, and reached her her dagger.
"Who are you and what are you doing on my father's land?" she said, bluffing about it being her father's land, for it was now the government's, and stopped at the edge of the rode...

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(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

OoC.g2g

The Phantom had been aptly named. Grey cloak whirling, his greatsword flashed out to meet Falch'nus's rapier with a ring of metal on metal, and before the dirk had an opportunity to connect he had recoiled and lashed out at the bounty hunter's opposite side.

A glance sideways told him that this was an extremely well-planned ambush, and he had little chance of escaping in possession of his life. Time for a change of plans.

Retreating into a defensive position, sword at the ready, the Phantom flung back the hood of his cloak and growled, "You know what you're dealing with, I hope."

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Cato lowered his sword and laughed. From under his mask he spoke "This land belongs to the King if I remember." He stepped closer.

Elizabeth sighed, and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her dagger.
"Well, it was my father's land... until he was murdered. You're still trespassing."

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(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

Falch'nus flowed to the side, the greatsword nicking his leather and drawing a thin gash. He prepared to come in, rapier sweeping high and dirk stabbing low, when the Phantom did a most unexpected thing.

Bemused, he skidded to a halt. Trusting his quarry about as far as he could throw him, Falch'nus signaled his archers on the valley walls. The bounty hunters with him moved in to flank the Phantom. Uncertain, he kept his silence, waiting for his adversary to speak first. Unease nagged at the back of his mind - Phantom Grey's uncanny ability for getting out of tight spots was legendary.

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Within the span of three milliseconds, Jais had decided that these men were not nice people. In fact, they were almost as nice as his grandmother. Bonbon - his newly acquired horse - was now thrashing on the ground in a pool of its own blood. He stole a worried glance at Ardan. It'd been such a thoughtful gift on the blacksmith's part too. Hopefully Ardan wouldn't harbor hurt feelings.

He darted beneath one high sweeping broadsword, scimitar up and stabbing. He could handle himself pretty well, in his opin -

The next strike came within a hairbreadth of taking his head off. Desperate now, Jais glanced around for an alternate solution. His face lit up.

Hide behind Threng.

Indeed, the bounty hunters were keeping a respectful distance from the man and his rampaging horse. "Threng, my antisocial assassin friend!" he called by way of greeting, making a beeline for said friend.

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Antisocial assasin friend? Alliterationand a compliment he thought to himself. He repressed his nonexistant urge to argue that it was rather a bit of an oxymoron to be considered both antisocial and a friend and instead extended a hand to hoist Jais behind him. After all, this antisocial assasin friend wouldn't want to have the man who so lovingly dubbed him trampled beneath the very horse he hid behind.

The Phantom did not glance sideways, peripheral vision telling him he was outnumbered roughly fifteen to one. Not that he'd had time for any sort of head count. Blast these bounty hunters.

In the silence he flicked through his options. Bluff, and pretend he wasn't the Phantom - his head adorned enough Wanted posters to render his easily recognizable, not much chance of fruition there. Or attempt to escape? Idiocy, he wasn't legend enough to evade this number of seasoned warriors.

Concluding with an air of irritation that likely this one would have to be escaped from in the future, the Phantom took a step forward. A taunting smirk crept across his features. "What, you're not afraid of one man, are you?"

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Sky walked through the forest, not taking any paths, holding a piccillo. The young bard was practicing fingering for a song he had written. He stopped abrutly when voices were heard. Curious, Sky cousiously walked forward, putting away his instrument, and taking out his bow. He came upon a clearing with many men surrounding a gray cloaked man.
That must be the Phantom Grey. I've heard lots of stories about him... he thought, and notched an arrow in his longbow. Aiming, he took down one of the guards by getting him in the head. Another arrow hit the leg of another guard. Then nibbly climbed into a tree, and got a third arrow ready...

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(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

"Hold, please," Kjan said pleasantly, handing the reins to one of the passengers who looked trustworthy enough. Without another word, he swung down from the driver's seat, knives already whirling around to clash with an ambusher's sword. He felt the shock of the impact go through his arm, but he did his best to ignore it.

How did he always manage to pick the biggest, bulkiest, deadliest match in a fight? Granted, most men were already bigger than he, but honestly, couldn't he just once get a moderately-sized opponent? Or at least one that was big and stupid? In all the tales he'd read -which were few-, the enemy's henchmen were often strong, but ultimately quite stupid. Much easier for the small, witty men like him to defeat.

The close proximity of a blade to his head quickly snapped Kjan's attention back to the fight. He really did need to start considering a career less hazardous to his health. He was only 32, after all, and while that was an accomplishment (all things considered), it was also quite too young to die.

Just as he was sure that the brute was going to do him in, his uncanny luck prevailed, for one of the horses connected to the cart decided just then that it had had altogether too much for one afternoon and reared up on its hind legs in panic. It came down on his would-be killer's foot with a sickening crunch, causing the man to cry out in pain. Kjan wasted no time in taking advantage of the distraction and quickly plunged one of his knives into his opponent.

"Got one!" he called out in a voice that was entirely too cheerful given the circumstances.

[Hey, I hope you guys don't mind if I jump in right now? I posted my character bio up.]

Nataniel had just been thrown in prison for assualting a nobleman, told he would be hung on the very next day, broke out of jail by a man who obviously worked for the infamous Phantom Grey, tossed in a wagon that bolted and jolted on the road as if it was continually being struck be lightening, and now held in his hands the reins to said wagon when he had never in his life worked with horses!

Okay. This is a fine happenstance.

"Wait, you there! Man-with-pointy-jab-jabs!! Hullo?"

But the man seemed to be paying no attention to his dilemma whatsoever; and to his great dismay, the horses were getting restless with all the fighting. Oh dear saints above, the wagon gave a lurch!

"No!" he commanded, pulling the reigns tight, or trying to [it looked as if he was holding the thread on which spun the universe, so delicately did he treat them] "...right, you beasts just stand your ground like good men! ...er, beasts."

The wagon lurched again, and he was just about to bellow something rude at the horses when -whoosh! the wagon was moving quite speedily again, as he tried desperately to pull it in with his little patty-cake act, but it was failing. "Coming through!!" he hollered as the wagon plummeted over a hapless guard.

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"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."