Of Death (Open)

//OOC: Have you tried PMing Mitsuo-kun? He usually doesn't do this.

//OOC: Yes, this is weird.

//OOC: I actually tried. Multiple days ago. That's why this rather radical measure, honestly. I'm not one to do this kind of stuff usually. He's also noted that it's not as much lack of time as lack of inspiration, from what I understood in that PM. Weird, indeed, though.

//OOC: Sorry. You're probably going to have to carry on with out me. I'm sure you guys can cope though. I'll try to be on here and there though.

//OOC: Is Tetsu gonna post?

//OOC: Guess not. Welp, time to turn this masquerade into a massacre. Oh! One more thing...YOU AINT SAFE, ALAN! And I'm tired of playing Guess Who? Herdir. I think it's time for the REAL fun to start, yeah?QUE THE LIGHTS!

Severin noted the brown tape on the door as he entered. Opening one of the bins, the Rose pulled out a set of Omni-Directional Mobility Gear. He whispered several words into the silence of the room, and four men popped out from hiding in the various containers in the room. Severin nodded to the men, and they all faced the door, expecting what was coming. He had delt with the Night's Daggers before. Especially when Adar was still in the force. The Rose was adjusting the final straps on the Gear as the door burst open and one of the assassins barged in. And was promptly met with four shotguns. Upon hearing the gunshots, the soldiers on the roof leaped down and crashed through the window, held up by 3DMG cables. The hanging soldiers then opened fire upon the crowd below. As this happened, the Rose exited te room holding Flammende Gerechtigkeit, trailed by four men with muskets. He kicked open the door to the dining hall a few seconds after the men crashed through the windows, and took aim at the vi Raucos, firing all five shots before dropping the clip and dashing towards the nearest pillar. Both the Rose and his men knew that the majority of them would die tonight, just as had happened in Hermiha. But this time, Adar would die. Severin would make sure of it.

//OOC: Did you really think I forgot about the Daggers, Herdir? Also, Alan, there's a high probability your fat captain got shot, but that's up to you to decide.

//OOC: no, I didn't think you forgot the daggers; I do have to wonder how on earth did all those guys manage to hide in one of the best defended homes in the whole known world (both inside the building, as well as one the roof), how do people keep opening locked doors and how can shotguns (which don't exist in this day and age yet) be fired silently enough not to be heard from the main room... Your luck, that I indeed want Adar dead, otherwise, if I begun writing in the same way... Remember this though when trying to force the plot http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/WillingSuspensionOfDisbelief

Upon hearing the gunshot, both hosts reacted very swiftly. Indeed the Rose person didn't have any form of good intention, but they were ready for it. Vastly so.

When the men broke through the windows, the hosts had already risen up and threw pairs of smoke-bombs. In very short amounts of time, two of the guests also did the same, filling the room with black smoke thicker than one could even hope to see through. This would allow more than just relative safety for evacuation, at this point. Thus, the hosts, on their way to the exit, guided by memory, couldn't help but grin underneath their masks when they heard the door burst open and the shots being fired. The poor dude stepped into a deathtrap, not even knowing what he was doing.

The tall man near Alan rose up as swiftly as the hosts have, and forced Alan up to his feet as well. He passed a loaded flintlock into his hand. "Watch your back." He spoke plainly, and rushed over along the tables as the smoke bombs where thrown. On the opposite table, the woman in the green dress, table-mate to the empty seat of the rouge Rose, rose elegantly as well. She took a single leaf from her mask and bitten it, before the smoke covered everything.

The night's dagger on the top floor heard the gunshots, and sighed deeply. After hearing the window break, he left out a second sigh. He threw a pair of long-burning smoke-bombs along the hallway, a hand of caltrops behind him, then silently dashed along the hall. Soon enough, he got to a topmost disguised window, from which he fired a red flare, then through which he left out a single black pigeon. In this night, you'd need an inhuman sharpshooter to get that one down, if even a mere inhuman would do.

//OOC: Sorry, a mix of tiredness and writer's block, so excuse the rather poor quality of this post. Also, undercover guards are mentioned in point no.4, as always; Also, since Alan will be away for a while, I'm going to plain declare this under pause until he's officially back. (a good time for me to catch up to my school tests this week, too)

....Would she ever be quiet?
The silver-clad woman on Alan's left had been talking non-stop for nearly a minute, now. She forgot about the core of his question rather quickly. She was now talking about the way differently colored fabrics work well together. Apparently, she was a dress-maker by occupation, and often worked on the various royal garments of the King's family. Alan listened to her intently, but even so he couldn't help but grow slightly weary of her chatter. She seemed knowledgeable enough in her craft, which was important, but to Alan, at least, this craft seemed particularly unimportant.
However, the conversation died down in an instant, as a sound echoed through the great, majestic halls of the Vi Raucos The sound of a shot. Alan eyed the room, scanning for Captain Volkard, whom he was sworn to protect. He spotted his fat figure not too far. He was about to dash towards him, but before he could do anything, the hosts stood up and thick smoke started spreading across the room. Alan stared in bewilderment at the smoke, but was tugged up by the warrior-dressed man beside him. He was given a flintlock pistol, and before he could ask anything the tall man already started running towards the hosts.
Panic ensued.

Alan could barely see through the smoke. He could only smell the scent of gas and gunpowder, and hear the screams and whimpers of the horrified guests. Beside him, the woman was kneeling on the floor, tugging at herself so tightly that her dress started to rip around the sleeves, revealing very pale skin. Alan heard her mutter something about this all being a dream, but it seemed real enough to him.
How could this happen? Alan asked himself, as he scanned the room for the man he was supposed to protect I thought Auth were to keep us safe, to protect us from terror. I thought he knew, that he was prepared. Is this another of his sadistic tricks? Soon enough, his question was answered when he heard the door kicked open and gunshots started filling the hall. Alan saw people all around him fall to the ground, red spraying all about. When a shot hit one of the bells on Alan's mask, just inches away from his face, he knelt beside the silver-clad lady, who was sobbing now.
Adar or Auth would never do something like this he noted coldly This must mean that somehow, killers managed to make their way here.

Alan stared at the pistol he was holding with both hands. He couldn't help but recall the moment he pulled a slightly bigger gun on Cora during her trial. Must he bear arms again?
His duty depended on it. He must.
Alan jumped upon the table and dashed across towards where he previously saw Ralf Volkard. The smoke was way too thick for him to see where he was going, or if the intruders even spotted him. Shots were fired, almost randomly from both the entrance of the hall and its back. Alan felt a tug across his ear, and his mask shattered by the force. Alan kept running, although his ear was ringing. That was likely a shot he concluded briefly, as he avoided the corpses lining the floor like a carpet Hopefully, the mask protected me from any major damage.
Alan finally reached his Captain, only to find him rolling in the floor in screams. He appeared to be missing a finger, which he grasped tightly. All his so-called 'friends' escaped without him long ago. So much for loyalty in the Military Police.
Alan knelt beside the fat Captain and quickly ripped some cloth off a nearby corpse to make a bandage for the Captain. While he wasn't the best healer around, he knew his job enough in order to keep his superior stable.
"Let's get you out of here, sir." he told the captain, that was now muttering something about discharging Alan and selling him on the black market.

Alan put the fatman's arm around him, and helped him up, While he was quite heavy, this was no different from nights when Alan had to help the poor drunk get home after a long night of drinking. The Military Policeman tried to locate an exit somewhere, but to no avail - the smoke was simply too thick and dense. Alan decided on a pillar not too far, and started dragging the nearly-fainted captain towards it. He leaned him against the pillar, and instructed him on how to remain safe.
"Stay put - breathe deeply, and slowly." he recited from memory the words he was meant to tell civilians during a titan attack "Do not make any movements, because that could attract attention. If you are spotted, play dead and pray they decide to spare you."
Alan left the captain, who was out cold by then, and stood up, to face the direction of the door, where the gunshots came from.
He touched his ear, and felt a trickle of blood. It seemed the bullet may have done a bit of damage.
If Auth is to run away - so be it. I got civilians to protect, for their deaths are unjust. he told himself as he crept up behind the long table towards the door. He was clutching the flintlock pistol tightly, and also felt the cold steel of Auth's dagger pressed up against his boot. He was ready to fight - but charging forward would do no good. He popped his head above the table, trying to single out the attackers through the smoke, which was starting to clear by now.
I see a couple of figures he noted But I will not shoot until I am certain these are indeed the attackers. Killing civilians would do no good.
Alan watched silently, as the smoke cleared. He though of all the people he know who were here, and wondered who was among the living and who was among the dead. He did not feel fear, strangely. He was too focused on his mission in order to be concerned.

For all he could tell, Mitsuo was talking to his table partner one second and surrounded in smoke the next. He got up and rushed to the wall behind him, staying flat to it. With no clue what was going on he just figured he'll try to stay out of the way until everything calmed down. That was his plan until he  heard the gunshots firing. 'Damn it,' he mentally cursed, 'what the hell is going on?' He kept close to the wall as he made his way around the room. Before he knew it he got to the door and accidently bumped into a guy with a musket.

Mitsuo and the attacker stared at each other for a while until Mitsuo broke the silence, "I take it you didn't enjoy the food then?" The attacker grunted and pointed his gun at Mitsuo. The masked mechanic pushed the musket out his face as soon as it was pointed at him and punched the armed thug in the face before kicking him in the shin. Mitsuo then tackled the man, forcing him against the wall and making him drop his weapon.

Of course the bandit was not going to go down easy and responded with a few punches of his own. He hit Mitsuo in the stomach twice and elbowed him in the jaw. This made young Shimura topple over and fall to the ground. The man kicked Mitsuo while he was down. The mechanic reached out and grabbed the musket that the attacker dropped and rolled over onto his back, wincing from the pain he was still receiving. He aimed and shot the assailant, killing him instantly. The attacker's body hit the wall and slowly slid to a sitting position. He was now motionless like the corpse he now is.

//OOC: Like I said I'll try and get on every now and then so if you think I'm going to post then wait a day or whatever and if I don't respond in that time then skip me.

//OOC: Point taken, although I thought it was implied that the shotguns/musketoons/boomsticks were heard. Because they're gunshots. Also, if this thread is going under pause, then what do you suggest for a new thread?I'm having writer's block so this is giving me some time to think of what to do, so that's something positive.

//OOC: How about we make a new thread whilst waiting for this one to become unpaused? Maybe one that takes place after the events of tonight?

Severin fired off a round and watched one of the partygoers go down with a hole in their chest. He dashed to another pillar, greeting the man cowering behind it with his bayonet. As the Rose removed the bloodied steel, he was ambushed by two Daggers. They entered a vicious struggle, and it was clear the man in red had military training. Severin managed to hold off their barrage, but was on the losing side. A swing with the butt of a rifle slammed into Severin, sending him back and knocking the lower section of his mask loose. The rose fell to the ground, and Severin's lower face was revealed. As he was getting up, one of the Daggers grabbed his arms while the other went to find another of Severin's comrades. As the Dagger hoisted Severin onto his feet, he twisted backwards and bit into the man's throat. One could almost see the black eyes of the mask glow red for a second. Using his weight, Severin managed to completely sever a large chunk of the man's neck as they both fell to the ground. Getting up, Severin spat out the flesh and picked up his rifle, taking up a position behind the pillar. He aimed for a rather large man and fired into his chest several times before reloading Flammende Gerechtigkeit. "It's time to end this..." Severin muttered as he took aim at the the vi Raucos. He had no quarrel with Auth, for it was Adar he was after. But if Auth died, so be it.

//OOC: Not sure what to say of an off-thread at this point. I really don't.

In the smoke-covered room, most servants had popped out combat knives, and helped in evacuating the guests. In theory, trained soldiers would be a lot better than them, who, while do trained in combat, were just servants as main job. In practice, when the soldiers lost their range ability entirely, and when the fighting range was extremely up close and personal, the servants who already perfectly knew the layout of the rooms had an upper hand. Guided by the sounds around to spot danger, they took most guests to safety before further harm was done. True enough, the stray bullet here and there couldn't be avoided, but that was not too big a problem. As for the shooters of those stray bullets...

The undercover guards took care of those, going, yet again, by the loud sound showing where the weapon was fired from, armed with sword and flintlock combinations. Soldiers just weren't trained nearly enough for this sort of up-close and personal combat, and certainly not the garrison. Perhaps the Military Police would have a chance, but when talking the usual individual and not elite soldier, the guards were still way ahead. After all, no soldier was trained to fight with his swords against one armed the same. Titans (theoretically) didn't have blades, nor did they move exceedingly fast. Unlike armed humans trained to battle other humans.

The hosts had taken to the next floor, the one meant for their personal living quarters and the likewise. There, they both took on their 3DMGs, always there and prepared for use, and easy enough to put on when you already wore the rest of the suit underneath a spacious cloak. Neither drew the blades, though, but instead each took his own weapon to further this combat with: The black-and-white host, a magnificent claymore of darkened steel, sparingly decorated, finely sharpened, a tool of pragmatism and death; The White-and-black host, an equally monochrome longbow, albeit with some silver inlaid as decoration, and arrows in a quiver at the wrist. So equipped, the pair took position at the end of the hallway, watching the main stair, with the Night Dagger responsible for this level guarding the other, to their back. Caltrops and smoke helped with it a whole lot, too, as no one approaching would be able to avoid having their movement greatly impaired.

***

Farther away, in the Inner District, a single black pigeon landed on a dark piece of steel, made specifically for that. A man approached, petted the pigeon on its head, and took a message from his leg. It read: 'Expectation. Fire. Wind. Unity.'. The figure raised an eyebrow and sighed. With the message in hand, he took down one flight of stairs, and entered a room full of people in dark clothing and 3DMG. They raised their heads when the paper was passed to them, then nodded. They rose from their seats, neared the already open window, and jumped from it. The figure left behind affixed himself a 3DMG, then quickly followed.

In all, there were 34 of them, and with the last shade 35. In the dim lights of the street, none could really notice the figures. Although, if one would have had time to closely inspect one, they would have seen the MP badges on their chests. And even more than that, they would have noticed an embroidery with a droplet of water, made of silver, just above the badge. Distinctive mark of Elite Squad 'Hydrargyrum'. Squad formerly led by Captain Adar vi Rauco...

//OOC: I do not currently see the need for another post. I think this post, along with the newcomers on this forum, will serve as more than enough for us, for now.


As the smoke cleared further, Alan managed to identify the figures before him. They were all clad in dark gear, which looked more suited for combat than for a night of socializing and feasting. Alan assumed that these people were not among the invited, nor of the security the Vi Raucos have assembled for this night. After witnessing one of the men before him fire upon a guest that was dashing across the room, Alan became certain that these were the attackers.
The Military Police patrolsman's eyes darted from one assailant to another, as he was hiding behind the long table. Three men seemed to be armed with guns with large barrels, while one attacker seemed to have run out of ammo and resorted to dual daggers. Alan assumed that he could try and pick one of them off before they notice him. He slowly drew the flintlock pistol in front of him, holding it steadily with both hands. He tried to line up a shot with one of the terrorists, but after firing he realized he missed, and that he drew the attention of the attackers.

Alan quickly returned to hide behind his barricade, and loaded another shot in the pistol. Before he could poke his head back up and try to fire another shot, however, the dark-clad man with the two daggers jumped over the table and turned to kick Alan. The Military Policeman was unready for such an event, and took the kick to his stomach. He dropped to the right, feeling blood dripping from the edge of his mouth, and pain spiking across his chest. The daggerman closed in quickly to finish Alan off, but Alan pulled out Auth's blade, which was hidden in his boot, and managed to disarm the assailant from both his weapons at the same time, much like he was trained to during training. Instead of trying to get his weapons back, the attacker just shouted and grappled with Alan, rolling through the blood-stained floor beside the table, exchanging blows and kicks. A rather fierce kick to Alan's side rang through the hall with the sound of a crack. Alan screamed in pain, assuming his lower leg was fractured. He managed to help himself up, and in a flurry of rage he grabbed the attacker, and using all his strength sent him sliding across the table. He drew his flintlock pistol as the daggersman rose from the table, and took him out with a well-aimed shot, which made the terrorist drop instantly.

I am... not doing too well right now Alan noted as he analyzed all the damage he's taken. A cracked legbone, damaged stomach, bruised face and gunshot ear. Perhaps I should find Captain Volkard, make a small retreat, patch up and come back to help he suggested to himself. The idea seemed sufficient enough, so he started shuffling towards the pillar where he'd left his superior Military Police captain. However, through all the screams, and gunshots, and smoke, the figure of his dead Captain lay. It appeared the captain's neck has been completely wrecked crudely by some sort of knife, dagger, or bayonet.
Alan stood in silence, growing sad, disappointed, and above all, very angry. It was his duty to protect this Captain - his only job, and he failed it. Perhaps the un-noble captain deserved such a death, but he also deserved a fair trial, and to face his crimes.
This turn of events will surely not help me rise through the ranks Alan noted, and sighed. He looked around for whoever might have been responsible, and spotted a suited gentleman, wearing a damaged mask that resembled a rose. Alan's memory helped him identify the figure as the violinsman from earlier during the night, also the same person that had to visit the loo during the start of the feast.
Judging by his previous actions, his condition and his weaponry, it's very likely he is the main culprit behind this turn of events Alan silently analyzed, as he started limping towards the figure, dagger in hand. If his Captain was to die, then so be it. He must make sure those who disrespect the law shall be punished.
Alan put a hand on the flower-masked man's back and raised his dagger.

Mitsuo's battle seemed to have attracted the attention of another assailant. The bandit hoisted Mitsuo to his feet and punched the mechanic in the gut. Mitsuo coughed and gasped for breath as he fell to one knee. The attacker hoisted him to his feet again and again punched him in the gut. Mitsuo dropped to the floor once more only to be hoisted up again. This time Mitsuo punched the assailant in the gut and both of them fell to their knees.

Mitsuo slowly crawled away and managed to take cover behind a pillar. He sat leaning against it for a while, taking a moment to recover. When he was good enough to move again he carefully stood up. He saw the Jester going to attack the Rose and slowly made his way towards them. On his way he got shot in the shoulder and fell to the ground. "ARGH! DAMN IT!" He yelled through gritted teeth. 'What the hell is happening right now!? Everything's going so fast!' He inwardly questioned with frustration. He laid on the floor, clutching his shoulder and rocking in agony.

Severin lowered his rifle and backed up behind the pillar to think of what to do. Out of instinct, and maybe muscle memory, the Rose spun on his heel and brought his rifle to bear when a hand touched his back. He was greeted by someone in a (I forgot what Alan was wearing) costume, holding a knife. By now, the person could clearly see the blood dripping from Severin's mouth, and if they shifted their gaze a bit, could also see the victim lying on the ground. After several seconds, Severin dashed out from behind the pillar, racing across the room, and hurling himself out of the window. He used his Maneuver Gear to latch onto the wall, and began making his way across the outside of the building. He stopped when he saw his targets standing in a hallway. They weren't facing him, rather the main entrance. Using gas to propel himself outwards and build momentum, the Rose crashed through the window with a sprint and ran directly at them, using the gear to swing above the group. He managed to dome the Dagger before landing in front of the two cloaked individuals. He aimed at the bowman. "Adar," the Rose stated. "If you have any honor, which I doubt, face me alone. It's time we ended this."

//For effect: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xjK21yKoS0Y

The pair of hosts heard the 3DMG cable strike the wall, but only guided themselves by sound, resisting the urge to turn their heads. If the man was who they though he was, he would've got fooled by it. And if not, then the Night's Dagger would have been able to off him. Either way, the white-and-black host tensed on the notched arrow he had.

As soon as the man flew through above them, the white-and-black host fully drew the bow, and in the time it took the man to aim after landing, took aim at his head as well. At the same time the other one gripped his 3DMG with one hand, should it be required. Both hosts couldn't help but smirk underneath the masks when the man launched his challenge.

The black-and-white host suddenly pressed his 3DMG trigger, sending the cable flying directly at the Rose's chest. Simultaneously the white-and-black host strafed right, virtually covering behind the other host, and shot his arrow, towards the right of the man and not straight towards. This way, the man was forced to choose: take the 3DMG cable in the chest, dodge right, towards the window, and take the arrow, or dodge left, to be faced straight up to the sword of the other host. Not an easy choice. Especially when you were faced with someone wearing a bulletproof vest underneath the cloak, and the face protected the same way.

*****

The Night's Dagger on the last floor took a few steps to the window. Back covered by a solid wall, left and right by the favourite smokebomb and caltrop combination, there was only the window left. He leaned with both elbows on it, inhaling the night air, and letting a deep sigh. He took a flintlock from the ten underneath his cloak, and took aim at the windows below. Nothing could be above without him hearing it, for the roof was made to make a lot of sounds when stepped upon, and nothing could come from below without him shooting at it. It could've ended actually fun, if many guys tried to get out that way.

*****

Back in the main room, it was all now just a chaos of battle between the guards and attackers. In that chaos, a figure in a green dress spotted Alan among the crowd, made few quick assessments from the body shape and manner of acting, and took a dash towards him. Among the way, she ducked underneath the dagger of an attacker, struck a long needle into his ribs without stopping, put a hand on the shoulder of a guard, used that grip to jump all the way over him to land in the head of an attacker, to stab him in the neck while raising back up and quickly tackling Alan unto a pillar, and throwing a needle into the mouth of the attacker that was taking aim for him. All three men dropped dead, from insanely fast acting poison.

The woman's gaze checked the surroundings at the speed of lightning, and after seeing no danger, turned back to Alan. She looked at him with deep green eyes from underneath the three-quarters leaf mask, and extended him a pair of leaves. 'Military, I know. I'm Sangwa.' She pressed the leaves into his hand. 'Technically, those are drugs. Practically, they'll force your body into alert mode, virtually tripling your speed and strength, and increasing your perception tenfold.' She spoke fast, yet crystal clear. 'Each will last you fifteen minutes. Make the most out of them.' She took a step back, plotting her escape route. 'Hydrargyrum will be here soon. Assist them in any way possible.' With that, she dashed back through the room, disappearing through a door.

*****

In the distance, a careful watcher could already see the MP close in. They were very hard to distinguish in the dark storm, but if you looked for a bit closely, you could see them. True enough, they still had a ways to go, but it wasn't much. Soon, they'd dawn upon the mansion. With all the famous, deadly efficiency they were storied by.

//OOC: Alan, if you're curious about Sangwa, just pop open Other-3. Tell the others what you find there, too, while you're at it.

//OOC: this is pretty much the only active chapter at the moment, but it's moving quite quickly. How would you guys recommend entering a new character into it, if that's even possible? And yes, I've read everything written here so far.

//OOC: Wow. That's quite a lot of reading you've managed to do so far. Good job - it seems you're really serious about this. Truth is, my guess is that this RP will reach its conclusion in a few days, seeing the way things are heading right now. I suggest that instead you start a post somewhere, and people will probably join (Such as myself).

/OOC thanks! In fairness to reality I started reading it a bit a few days ago while I was waiting for the final seal of approval from William, but I'm happy to stay out of it. I will need to read up more on the background of the Vi Raucos though, which is why I was slightly confused about the plot and how I might enter the chapter. Well, I'm happy to start a new post, but is there any particular time I should set it? Such as after the events of tonight? Or would you (and the rest of the RPers here I guess) like to set it at a different time?

//OOC: Well, you could join in the next few days, as Herdir and I have something planned for this thread. You'd be able to join in when that happens, no problem at all.

//OOC: ok then, thanks for telling me. I'll join when you guys give the go-ahead with regards to your and herdir's plan, and you're welcome to join my new thread whenever you want.

//OOC: Here to do multiple things. First of all, to tell you I'm amazed at you really reading all this crap here. Didn't expect that. Secondly, the vi Rauco family history ain't really written anywhere, now tht I think of it. A bit in Auth's backstory, and the rest via rp-ing. Perhaps I should write a topic about it all sometime. And lastly, I'm here to reinforce Nerd's (I first wrote Severin's...) point. Indeed in a... not too long time this post will reach a point where joining could be easy. At the same time, you could also have a post where your character just notices Hydrargyrum flying above the Central District, for example. Do whatever you think is fit for your character, friend.

//OOC: Sorry I took so long! I got a couple of things to say <_>
To Nerd - I suggest you give the old posts a read if you forget something (Like Alan's appearance). It's nice to keep things logical and canon and stuff
To Herdir - I have no idea what you have planned up your sleeve, but I'm loving it so go ahead
To LateComer - join whenever this thing Herdir and Nerd have been playing happens
To Mitsuo - stop throwing spanners
And because Herdir wanted me to say - the woman clad in green has been Auth's mom and Adar's wife this entire time.


As soon as Alan's hand touched the back of the Rose-musician - or perhaps even before - the disguised killer spun around on his heels and deflected Alan's knife, which flew a feet away. Alan got a second to gaze at the face of the man responsible for his failed mission - where once a rose covered his face, now blood dripped out. In his eyes, Alan saw a fury - one that was beyond his comprehension. It was the look of an animal, but not of a scared one. It was the look of something wild, perhaps even inhumane, full of dedication and hatred and focus. Alan staggered back, weaponless and hopeless. In his condition, he couldn't hope to bring down this person, whoever they were. Alan dropped to his knees in front of the Roseman, but it seemed that he didn't pay him much mind, because quickly he ran off to continue his terror. Alan watched silently as the gun-wielding musician disappeared into the smoke.
Killing him.... wouldn't have been right a voice in his head spoke Just like the dead captain, he too deserved a fair trial, to face his actions. Have you forgotten what you told Cora back then? What are you worth, if you don't uphold the justice of redemption you preach?

Alan was brought back to reality when a figure pushed him up against a pillar in a blur. Alan heard a thump as an assailant fell dead next to him, but all he could do was look at the woman clad in green and black in front of him. She seemed to almost radiate strength, in a fierce sort of way.
She spoke quickly but efficiently of things. It seemed she knew who he was, and claimed to be called Sangwa. It took Alan a few moments to remember that Sangwa was the name of Adar's wife, but she was long gone to the smoke by then. She left 3 leaf-drugs with him that were supposed to increase his ability for the time being, but Alan wasn't so certain if he should use them.
One word flickered in his mind for a while - 'Hydrargyrum'.

The....Hydrargyrum are coming? he asked himself Adar's old squad.... and his wife wants me to fight alongside them?
Alan rose slowly, and looked around him, trying to see through the smoke.
This is great honor Alan told himself, as he walked to where he dropped Auth's dagger It means the vi Raucos trust me... and believe in my quest for justice
Alan grabbed the dagger off the floor, and forced him to chew on one of the leaves. He was planning to keep the rest for people more meaningful and capable then himself, but if he had to fight alongside Adar's men, he had to improve his condition.
Alan leaned against the wall, toying with his dagger, waiting for the drug to take effect. He expected the sound of gunshots and screams to increase, due to improved senses, but instead it seemed to disappear, clearing his mind.
A drug does not have the ability to alter my strength nor my speed Alan reminded himself, although more faintly than usual Therefore, it is likely these leaves work on some sort of 'Placebo effect' that makes the user ignore all harmful distraction and conditions.
Alan felt peaceful, despite all the death and carnage around him. A faint smile appeared on his lips. He playfully played with the dagger in his hand, and looked around. He managed to recognize several figures through the smoke - some poor guests, some terrorists, and some guards. He finally stopped leaning against the wall, and started dashing towards the host of troublemakers. As one of them approached him on the right, he turned his knife and hit him with the blunt end on the back of his neck, effectively making him pass out instead of killing him.
No one else has to die the Military Policeman told himself as he took down one foe, and then another All these criminals will answer the courts, and the justice system. No more blood shall be spilled. All I have to do is hold them off until Adar's men arrive.
The fighting seemed more like a dance to Alan. Things were so much clearer - what his enemies were thinking and doing, what their next course of action was going to be. Alan's mind was racing, thinking of different outcomes, different ways to stop his foes from doing any harm. He noticed he was receiving cuts and hits here and there, but under the effect of the drug, he could barely notice them. They were irrelevant - unlike his ultimate purpose, the goal given to him by the lady vi Rauco.

Mitsuo struggled to his feet. His had that held pressure on his wound was now covered in blood. He was weaponless once again and that made him vulnerable. The assailant from earlier spotted him and decided their fight was not over. The bandit forced his way over to Mitsuo and elbowed his back. Mitsuo fell to the ground out of shock and pain; he rolled over and was greeted with a boot to the face which had the force to break his mask. Blood trickled from the right edge of the young Shimura's mouth and the left nostril of his nose. As the attackers foot was about to come down again, Mitsuo grabbed and pushed against it and at the same time kicked his abuser between the legs. The assailant fell over, clutching his crotch. Mitsuo forced himself to his feet, only just being able to stand, and started kicking the bandit. He kicked the bandit in different places; kick to the ribs, stomped on his leg and kicked him in the face which knocked him out. Mitsuo then limped away without a second thought about what he just did and now having an indifferent expression on his face. He managed to make it to a flipped table and sit down behind it.

Using the gas of the 3DMG, Severin launched himself into the air, dropping the rifle and drawing the blades as he soared over the arrow. "You will die tonight, Adar! The time has come to atone for your sins!" The Rose shouted as he flew. Rebounding off the wall, Severin hurled himself at the sword-wielding vi Rauco in a momentum-aided flurry of strikes, and his eyes seemed to be glowing red through the mask. "You cut me down, now I shall cut you down, you damned monstrosity!" As the blades arced towards the vi Rauco, the droplets of blood on Severin's lips departed, creating small works of art along the floor and wall. Inside the main room, chaos continued as the soldiers fighting for Severin clashed with the Daggers of Adar. The dining hall had turned into a battlefield, and the two sides had mainly taken a side of the room, firing from behind tables and pillars. A large amount of combat still continued in the middle of the great room however, and the dead and dying lay scattered, on the floor, resting on tables, leaning against pillars. Food had gone from the plates to the ground, and masks shifted where they had left their wearer's face. Smoke gathered at the roof and crawled out of the windows as muskets and pistols spat fire and lead.