The job had been an easy enough one, tracking down some monsters that had made their great escape from some rich bastard’s menagerie. The owner himself had hired Killian, and directed him to the approximate location just outside Darkveil City. A couple of dead displacer beasts later, the swordsman had returned to the city to report the completion of the job and receive payment.

The menagerie owner had insisted that Killian should visit the River Rose Bathhouse and unwind, paid in full by him as an act of gratitude. Killian had tried to decline, but the asshat had been persistent, and Killian now found himself undressing in a private room in the bathhouse. He was forced to leave any weapons he had with the receptionist in the lobby, with an assurance that they’d be returned upon his exit.

Killian sighed, and resolved to try and enjoy the bath, despite his initial reluctance. He lowered himself gently into the steaming water, closing his eyes as his muscles relaxed, and slid down until the water reached his chin. He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling, watching the steam swirl and dip above him.

This is kinda nice, actually.

Thoughts flitted through his mind, and he found himself thinking back to some of the more pleasant memories he had made in recent times. A small smile curved his lips upwards as he thought about that strange dance he had shared with Leandros’ wife, Apogee. The things I do to finish a job…

Killian stayed in the water for maybe ten minutes, far less than most would, but he was never a man to stay idle for long, and soon lifted himself out of the water and started drying off. Maybe that was why he wasn’t killed the second the assassins showed up. He was already tightening the belt of his pants when the door was kicked open and four men in dark leathers piled in, and four crossbow bolts hit the water where he would have been.

There was a moment of surprise from the men as they realized that Killian was already out of the water, albeit still pretty wet and entirely shirtless, and in that moment Killian fell upon them, fists swinging.

He really wished he had his sword.

Killian had learned a fair bit of hand-to-hand combat in the Legions, but it was never an area he had practiced much in, and it had been a while since he’d needed to rely on those skills. He always had his sword on him.

Not today though.

Killian’s first blow broke a man’s jaw; he might not have perfect technique, but he was strong [Bull’s Strength], and knew how to put weight behind a strike. As the man he struck stumbled back, two of the others slammed into Killian, and he found himself being driven back, and before he knew it, his back hit the wall. He tried to bring a knee up to drive into the side of the man on his left, who was wrapped around his midsection, but it was easily blocked. The man on his right had Killian’s arm pinned to the wall, and was producing a wicked looking curved dagger.

Shit.

The fourth assassin was still standing by the open door, trying to find a shot with his reloaded crossbow. This was bad. Killian was pressed to the wall, one arm pinned, his torso grappled, and a near certain death in his future- if not by dagger blade, than by crossbow bolt.

Like I said earlier… Shit.

---

Quest details:

SPOILER: Click to show

Quest Name: Let's get down to business
Participants: Two or more
Location: Anywhere
Post Requirements: 5 post per person, 200 words per post
Reward: +1 Renown
Description: Charon has experienced a wide array of conflict and difficulty over the last three years, with worldwide crisis popping up every few months. The need for strong, brave heroes has rapidly been increasing and the Crown is starting to feel the strain, as military groups are being stretched thin. Capable heroes, adventurers and guild members are being asked to help train a newer generation to help combat the problems that plague the nation. Help by teaching another, be it how to use a weapon and fight, how to cast powerful spells, or how to quietly navigate a dangerous area. Maybe you yourself are the one getting trained, hoping to step up and help defend Charon! No matter the skill set, it will only benefit the land to have more able bodied heroes!

As the assassin takes aim and lines up their sight on Killian’s heart, he’s abruptly yanked backward by the back of his shirt with enough force to sweep him clean off his feet.

“Hrk!”

The other assassins glance over their shoulders at the door where their ally had been standing. A series of loud dull thuds emanate from the hall before it goes silent.

The pair restraining Killian don’t loosen their grip for a second which leaves the guy who got his jaw rocked to stumble over and see what is going on. While all their attention is on the open doorway, Killian might notice one of the puddles of water on the floor is disturbed.^[1] A set of silent boot prints appear on the ground and approach the goons pinning him up against the wall.^[2]

Suddenly appearing out of thin air, the heel of a boot roundhouse kicks into the clavicle of the assassin with the knife. They drop the blade and crumple to the ground in pain before a knee meets their nose and knocks them flat on their back, out cold.

The new assailant steps to the side, the hem of their long coat sweeping back behind them as they regard Killian’s current situation.

“Excuse the intrusion, I have business with the man you are trying to bloody the bathwater with.”

Golden eyes then meet Killian’s and it takes a moment before a look of recognition crosses the fellblood’s face. “Oh, it is you? Good day, Mister Glae.”

The familiar charcoal-skinned fellblood looks fairly unconcerned with the odd altercation Killian has found himself in even as the assassin with the broken jaw realizes he's there. They pick their crossbow back up from when they dropped it on the floor and attempt to reload it. Zarius continues to pay them no mind, instead giving Killian a bit of a bemused look. 

"Do you require additional assistance?" he asks, gesturing to the assassin grappling him. 

---

[1] invisibility
[2] silent step

Killian blinked in surprise as the assassin by the door got yanked into the hall, even letting out a little “What the hell?” despite his situation. Neither Killian nor the men pinning him did anything as the sounds of violence emanated from the hallway.

He shared a look with the assassin holding the knife, and the man snarled and pulled back his arm, winding up for a strike. Killian’s eyes flickered to the disturbed water on the floor, then back to the assassin a second before a mysterious Fellblood appeared and absolutely destroyed the knife-wielding killer.

Killian gaped for a moment, not recognizing this new player in the field immediately. As his savior addressed him by name, a memory flashed through the swordsman’s head- an embarrassing night at the Rookery.

Before the Fellblood even asked him if he needed further assistance, Killian was driving his now free arm down, his elbow cracking into the back of the assassin still grappling him. The man gasped and released him, and Killian shoved him back a step.

By the door, the assassin with the cracked jaw was aiming down the sights at….at… What was the Fellblood’s name again? Shit.

“Watch out!” Killian called out, then proceeded to tackle the assassin in front of him into the water, leaving the last one for… for… whatever-his-name-was. As the two men quickly sank to the bottom of the bath, they struggled for positioning, both desperate to remain on top. Killian finally got a good position and kicked out, hitting the other man’s chest and propelling himself back to the surface, his head bursting free as he gasped for breath. The assassin surfaced a moment later, sputtering, but Killian was already pulling himself out of the water.

The assassin waded towards the edge of the bath, but Killian delivered a brutal kick to his face from his position above him, and he fell backward into the water, blood from his broken nose reddening the small pool.

Killian stood there, panting, water streaming down his lean form, rivulets of water tracing his muscles and dripping off him to pitter-patter on the floor.

The assassin floated to the surface of the water on his back, and Killian realized he’d been knocked unconscious by the kick to his face. Killian slowly turned to the Fellblood, still breathing heavily and dripping water.

“Good timing. Thanks, uh… uh…” Killian tried desperately to remember his name, to no avail. “... Rookery guy.”

Zarius watches as Killian tackles one of the two last remaining threats in the room into the steaming bathwater. He contemplates going to help for a moment but figures Killian probably can take a single assailant on his own. 

The other remaining assassin takes aim and fires the crossbow at the fellblood, but doesn't even have a second to realize the mistake he made as Zarius catches the bolt and throws it back into his thigh. 

"Aaaugh!" He steps back only for Zarius to have already closed the gap between them, yanking the crossbow forward and then using the butt of it to crack the man's face.

He lets go and reaches up for his bloodied nose when the fellblood gets him in a headlock and tightens his grip on his windpipe until he's gasping for air. After a few moments he stops struggling and slumps unconscious in Zarius' grip while Killian makes his way back out of the water. 

"Zarius," he corrects Killian before dropping the choked out assassin unceremoniously on the floor. "And do not thank me yet." 

The fellblood then goes about the room, crouching down and going through the assassins' pockets looking for anything on them of value or import that could help identify who they are. 

"Any idea why you were targeted?"

He wasn't expecting to have to rescue Killian from getting killed. Hells, he hadn't really expected Killian to be the person he came looking for in the first place. Just goes to show that Darkveil's information network has taken some pretty bad hits in recent times. That'd be something he'd need to figure out how to fix sooner rather than later.

Killian saw the last few moments of the Fellblood’s fight, watching as the assassin was almost effortlessly dispatched. He felt a twinge of jealousy at the other man’s evident skill with close-quarters-combat, but it was quickly swallowed up by respect. This guy was good.

“Zarius. Right.” Killian moved over to the water and reached in, grabbing the floating assassin by the leg and pulling him out of the bath, grunting with the effort. With that done, he turned and watched as Zarius methodically started searching the assassins, presumably for information.

I mean, maybe he’s just robbing them.

Killian pushed that thought aside; Both Kamille and Caedes seemed to trust this man, and even viewed him as a friend. Killian could give him the benefit of the doubt. He tilted his head at the Fellblood’s question.

“I can think of a few people who might want me dead. I’ve had my hand involved in the destruction of more than my share of gangs and other such criminal organizations. Any remnants of those groups would have it out for me.”

Killian didn’t voice a darker possibility- that maybe it wasn’t a criminal that had tried to get him killed, but someone who might hold a grudge over Kenting. Whether that was a surviving family member that had been away at the time, or even an angry former comrade of Killian’s from the Legions who might harbor resentments over how his actions reflected on his battalion. Admittedly, these options were unlikely, but Killian couldn’t rule anything out.

“One thing I can say fairly confidently though, is that while I may not know why I was targeted, I can guess as to how I was. I was basically strong-armed into coming here tonight. A rich man, someone from this city by the name of Avery. I doubt it was a coincidence that he was so insistent that I come here.”

In fact, now that he was thinking about it, the whole job had been too easy, and they had specifically asked for Killian to travel to Darkveil just to handle it… It was likely that the whole thing had been a setup.

Killian looked down and cursed softly under his breath.

I’ve been an idiot.

Zarius pulls a few pieces of crumpled paper out of one of the goon’s pockets. Unraveling it, he glances over the writing while listening to Killian explain how it’s not out of the realm of possibility that someone wants him dead. Picking fights with criminals in Charon’s most well-known criminal haven would predictably end poorly.

“That would do it. You are aware that Darkveil is entirely made up of gangs and criminal syndicates, correct?”

It’s also no secret that the Legion have made it more difficult for the criminal syndicates to do as they please even on their home turf. Maybe that fact emboldened Killian to stick his nose in where it doesn’t belong.

That said, Ash Landers aren’t known for just sitting by and taking shit from good ol’ boys in armor upholding the laws of the religious and rich. Perhaps Killian feels otherwise.

“If you offended any of them, it only makes sense that they would target you.”

Finding no evidence of that in the scraps of paper, Zarius pockets them then continues to check for anything else of interest amongst the assassins’ belongings. He only pauses when Killian mentions a name.

“Avery,” he repeats. “Hm. Interesting.”

Avery isn’t a nobody, but he’s not exactly a big player in Dakrveil. Last Zarius has heard about what the man’s been up to was that he was licking Count Mallock’s boots in order to make sure his own morally grey operations wouldn’t get taken out by the Legion or the Stablemen in the wake of the Vulcadreus cult investigations. That’s about as much as the fellblood knows about the man, which doesn’t leave much to make any conclusions on why he’d set Killian up to get murdered in a bathhouse.

“Any idea why he would request you specifically come here?” Zarius goes back to pulling a few odds and ends out of pockets, still not finding anything particularly useful. “An ex-legionnaire hardly seems like someone worth his time and ill-gotten gold.”

As Zarius continued his investigation, Killian moved over to the corner where his clothes and armor were piled. He pulled his tunic on, followed by his boots. He leaned against the wall as he tightened the straps on the boots while Zarius made some comments about Darkveil. “Yeah.” he muttered in response. If I “offended” any of them, huh?

He looked up in interest as the Fellblood expressed recognition at the mention of Avery. “You know him?”

Killian finished putting on his armor, the black leather slick from the moisture in the air. He grimaced. Should have left it with my weapon. He had just finished tightening the bracers when Zarius let something slip. Something that made Killian stiffen.

An ex-legionnaire…

How did Zarius know that? What else does he know? Killian looked at the Fellblood out of the corner of his eye, and didn’t respond for a long moment. Then he bent down and picked his dark cloak up, slowly wrapping it around his shoulders and pinning the clasp in place.

“Legionnaire, you say?” The tone was colder than it had been before, though still bordering on neutral. He didn’t confirm or outright deny that he had been a member of the Legions. If Zarius knows things about me, then maybe this wasn’t a chance meeting. And if it's not an accident…

Then what does he want from me?

"Not personally. I know of him though. I try to make it my business to know about anyone with some modicum of power, wealth, or influence in Darkveil. You never know when one of them might do something stupid."

Zarius stands up and huffs.

Nothing. 

These assassins were at least smart enough to not carry anything particularly incriminating or valuable on them. 

Oh well. 

"Ex-legionnaire," he corrects Killian then looks at the swordless swordsman. "Is that not you?"

Had he made a mistake? The information was pretty lackluster and vague, and he didn't have much of a chance to verify its validity either. It's possible. Which only makes this whole situation even more awkward. 

"I was hoping to ask a few questions, but if I assumed your association incorrectly, I apologize." 

He doesn't like admitting he might have gotten something wrong, but bad information is bad information and right now it was especially difficult to tell which tidbits are worth chasing and which are just dead leads. Though he supposes that saving Killian's naked ass wouldn't be a complete waste of his time. The man owes him now and it never hurts to have a little leverage should he have any use for Killian in the future.

Though seeing that the man isn't carrying a weapon is a bit odd. 

"Why are you wandering around Darkveil of all places without a weapon, anyway?"

Killian narrowed his eyes at Zarius as the other man spoke about the trappings of the swordsman’s past with casual ease. To Killian, the fact that he had once served king and country was a source of both pride and pain. And how his service had ended…

Well, at least Zarius didn’t seem to actually know anything about Killian specifically. Seemed he was just looking for an ex-legionnaire in general. Which meant that there was either another person who fit that description around here, or someone knew about Killian’s past and set the Fellblood on his tail. He’d have to find out which it was.

“Your assumption might as well have been incorrect. It’s been a long time since I was in the Legions. I doubt there’s any questions I could answer to your satisfaction.” Killian cast an eye over the unconscious assassins spread out across the room.

“I’d like to ask these people some questions myself. Though I doubt they’ll have any answers.”

Killian turned back to Zarius in response to his query. “What? I wasn’t allowed to bring any weapons with me into the baths…” Killian closed his eyes for a moment, mentally kicking himself. “Another lie? Man, I’ve really let myself get played here, haven’t I?”

Killian couldn’t help it- he let out a bitter laugh, which quickly turned a little embarrassed. “Don’t tell Silas about this, huh? Er, I mean, Caedes.” He was silent for a moment, then spoke up again.

“I take it hand-to-hand combat is something you’ve trained in. Extensively, if I’m any judge of your skill. I should probably spend a little more time on it myself.” Killian gave an awkward wave around the room, indicating the whole situation they were in. “As we have unfortunately found out, I apparently won’t always have my sword on me.”

He let out a cough, and looked at the assassin he had pulled out of the water, avoiding Zarius’ eye. He hated being incompetent, but he hated looking incompetent even more.

"So you were in the Legion." 

The intel wasn't just a wild goose chase then. Though Killian's expression and tone doesn't suggest that he'll be too willing to just cooperate. That's annoying, but compared to trying to get an once of truth out of professional bullshitter Morrigan Moonweaver, Killian should be easier to deal with. 

The fellblood's eyes flit to the assassins as Killian admits to wanting answers as well.

"Perhaps we can trade information for information. If they know anything, I can get that information from them." 

One way or another.

Zarius half laughs at Killian realizing that he'd been had by being told to surrender his weapons. It's a pretty well-known, low-effort scam amongst the criminals of Darkveil, but for someone not used to their way of life, it probably never crossed Killian's once-a-cop-and-upholder-of-the-law brain. 

"Well, for future reference, no one in Darkveil is ever without a weapon even if you cannot see that they are armed. Anyone who insists on you surrendering your means of defending yourself are out to put you at a disadvantage for one reason or another. Perhaps we should question the bathhouse owner as well, they might be easier to get answers from." 

Unfortunately they would have to either threaten or bribe the owner to cooperate. This business isn't located in his family's territory and is likely under a rival family's protection racket. 

"You do not have to worry about that. Rescuing you from a bathhouse assassination would give him far too much creative license to mock me with." 

He really didn't need Caedes more situations to make dumb jokes about. 

The fellblood watches Killian gesture about the room and picks up on the stiffness of his movements and then the avoidance of making eye contact. Ah. He's probably embarrassed about the whole situation. Admittedly this would have been a really undignified way to meet one's end - being naked in a bathhouse after being played and set up and all. 

"I have no talent for magic," he explains as he steps about the room and starts pulling out a coil of rope from a pouch on his belt. He proceeds to tie up the goons in case they wake up and get any dumb ideas. "Being able to defend myself when unarmed is important. I do not have to worry about being disarmed, and when I approach others they are more likely to underestimate me. It also helps in situations where carrying a weapon would get in the way." 

That said, he probably should at least learn how to better wield polearms given he has a magical one that has been gathering dust for some time now. His father would no doubt be eager to kick his ass in some sparring matches should he ask for some training. 

"Never too late to learn and you likely would pick up on it quickly with your physique and combat experience." 

Trade information? Killian’s eyes flitted from the Fellblood to the assassins, then back again. “I’m not so sure I’d like to rely on any… untowards methods. I can question them myself.” He wasn’t against the occasional use of force to get information, but generally that was when other people’s lives were at stake. He wasn’t sure he felt comfortable torturing someone for his own sake.

He folded his arms as Zarius explained how Darkveil operated, and essentially stated that Killian had fallen for the oldest trick in the book. Great. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He smiled slightly as Zarius assured him he wouldn’t mention this abysmal situation to Caedes, then lifted an eyebrow when the other man explained why he was so skilled at fighting. “I know what you mean. I don’t have a drop of magic running through my veins. In this world, men like you and me are at a severe disadvantage. It’s part of why I make sure to be the best I can be with the sword. Guess you just made sure your weapon of choice couldn’t be taken from you. That’s fair, though I’ll take a blade in my hand any day.”

He moved over to the tied up assassins, and crouched next to one as Zarius mentioned learning unarmed fighting. “You think? I guess I should. Today was a lesson, and I’d be a fool not to learn it.” He reached out and pulled one of the still unconscious men forward slightly, then moved behind him and tried to replicate the headlock Zarius had performed. “You had your arm… Like this? No, something was different. It was an excellent hold. What am I doing wrong here?” He shifted to several different positions behind the limp man, executing different variations on the hold.

He glanced at the Fellblood from his position on the ground, eyes bright with a sudden curiosity. “And that roundhouse you did. If I were to throw out a kick like that, I’d generally send it right into someone's gut. How did you hit the collarbone so easily? A blow like that’s worth three gut kicks.”

When Killian's eyes flit over to Zarius, the swordsman is met with the most unimpressed expression the fellblood can muster. "Need I remind you that they tried to kill you for coin?" 

Even without being stabbed, Killian still has a bleeding heart it seems. 

"If it puts your conscious at ease, I can ensure they are not harmed. There are magical means to get information out of people without having to spill any blood." 

Though lugging these guys back to a more secure location is going to be a pain. Judging by how Killian has been acting, the valiant knight probably wouldn't let Zarius just disappear into an alley with them either. Well, if he's so insistent on ensuring their safety he can carry them himself.

"I would not say we are at a disadvantage. There is more than one way to make a mage eat their own magical words." 

The fellblood has always been keen on being able to counter anything thrown his way. Thankfully there were others before him who learned how to turn mage's magic against them, or nullify it entirely. Those skills are invaluable these days. 

Zarius raises a brow as Killian starts slinging around one of the unconscious assassin's around like a sack of potatoes. 

"...This is not exactly the ideal time or place for a lesson." He sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose. "You are dropping your elbow." 

Walking over to the awkward situation, Zarius helps Killian adjust his grip and giving pointers on how to make sure the hold can't be broken out of easily. 

"As for the kick, you will have to work on your balance and flexibility which relies heavily on your core and joints. You have strength and coordination from your training with blades, but the range of motion you are used to is compensated by the reach of your weapon. When fighting unarmed you do not have the luxury of letting the gap between you and your opponent get too big. You need to be able to stay close even if they have the means of keeping you away."

It's easier said than done, Zarius' had recently had a rematch with an old friend and was greatly humbled by getting his ass kicked. It hadn't been a serious fight, but it had cemented his insecurities about having fallen behind his comrades in terms of strength and skill. Inadequacy is something very new to Zarius, and he's been struggling to in both his professional and personal pursuits. 

Killian didn't need to be privvy to any of that though. Not while he's looking up at Zarius like a puppy about to learn a new trick. 

"In addition to balance and flexibility, you will need to have accuracy, and speed. Your window to land a hit is small if you are facing against someone with armor or a weapon. You have to make that one hit count in case you are not able to get in close again. The only exception to this is if you are someone like Mister Shaa who can increase the reach of his own body, but Mister Shaa is a special case and his specialness has earned him every accolade and bit of praise bestowed upon him." 

If Killian was serious about training in new fighting styles, the Fighter's Guild would be worth his time to join. Even if Killian is an ex-legionnaire, none of the current guild members, or their minotaur guildmaster, would care. That kind of baggage doesn't bar someone entry from the club of muscle headed himbos and himbettes. 

"It would not hurt for you to learn from other members of the Fighter's Guild. They make up for their lack of scholarly education with lived experience. They are a wealth of knowledge and usually fairly welcoming to those who are earnest in their intentions...or looking to earn redemption." 

Killian practiced the fixed grip several times, though he avoided actually applying any pressure to the unconscious man’s neck. As Zarius reached out and manually adjusted the position of Killian’s arm, he was brought back to training with the sword, first from the old soldier in his village, then from the instructors in the Legions.

He finally let the poor man drop, satisfied that he had the headlock down, and stood up, watching with great care as Zarius explained the kick. “Interesting…” He murmured. “Balance I have. Flexibility… maybe less so.” He let out a little laugh. Talking about combat techniques like this, he was a completely different Killian to the one Zarius had met at the rookery. He was almost… Outgoing. Friendly, even.

“Ah, I gave them too much space, is that it? Makes sense. The way I fight, distance is good. Distance is safe. Not too far, mind you, you need to be able to react in time to get in for a blow, but yeah, I see what you mean.”

“Accuracy?” He waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll hit what I shoot for, I’m not worried about that.”

Killian smirked slightly at the mention of the Fighter’s Guild. “But they are not here. You are.”

Killian looked around, thinking, one arm on his hip in a casual pose. “Tell you what. Screw your other offer. I’ll either get what I need from them or I won’t. It’s no big deal to me, really. People have tried to kill me before. People will try again. But I’ll answer any questions you might have for an ex-Legionnaire, and you train me in your fighting technique. What do you say?” Killian extended a hand, a shrewd look in his eyes.

“Is that a deal you find appealing, Zarius?”