Family Friends

[Nicholas Woodruff]

Twelve ding, dong-like bongs on the gong just outside the gates to North Cear signaled that noon had come to the coastal city. The sun soared proudly around its perch in the sky, higher now than it would be for the rest of the year. The bearded Lieutenant standing guard immediately outside the gates to the northern outskirts of Cear looked with a sort of curiosity at the sky, which was an equally curious sort of red, considering the time of day.

The Constable to his right coughed politely, remaining in position, but obviously hinting to his commanding officer that he was ready to go. The Lieutenant looked at him for a moment, somewhat detached from the world around him. Then, after a moment, he shook his head and smiled.

"Your shift's over, Johnson. Have a good afternoon, eh? And if you could to me a favor, when you go to the Fleethouse, remind Kenholme he's on duty this afternoon."

The young non-commissioned officer nodded. "Yes sir, happy to be of assistance, sir." He saluted smartly, to which the Lieutenant returned a salute, and nodded.

"Thanks, Johnson."

The remaining Fleetsman continued to look to the sky, and its unusually red hue. An odd note pulled at his soul, and he had trouble determining whether it was one of peace... or one of war.

[Adam Kenholme]

Constable Adam Kenholme held a gloved hand over his armoured stomach, his brow furrowing somewhat.

It wasn't that he was in pain. On the contrary, it was more of an intense discomfort. Mariah, his wife of eighteen years, had cooked him a beautiful lamb dinner last night. He grinned, in spite of himself and his ailing abdomen. Though Mariah's mint-lamb was delicious, his diet was simply not as... versatile as in his youth.

He shook his head, applying a more focused effort in ignoring such things. He pried his gaze from the dusty road ahead, looking up at the bright sky. Moments later he heard the distant chiming of the bell, signalling the end of one four-hour watch, and the beginning of another.

Another Constable trod past, lifting the front of his helm in a way of greetings, "Hey Adam—just came from the gates. You work today with Woodruff."

Adam nodded, saying his goodbyes to the young man. Knowing he shared his duty shift with his old friend, Lieutenant Nicholas Woodruff, brightened his prospects on the day.

The gates stood open, and as he exited the city he spotted the gold-and-blue clad figure to his left. He turned smartly, his right hand sweeping up to his brow smartly. He smiled as he saluted his old friend.

"Constable Kenholme, reporting as ordered, sir."

Nick had that classic detached expression, the one that informed Adam the newly-appointed Lieutenant was thinking. His old friend was always thinking, it seemed. Weighing. Considering.

[Nicholas Woodruff]

It took the Lieutenant a bit longer than usual to note Adam's presence--two seconds before any sort of response.

He looked from the sky to the newly-arrived Constable, and returned the salute, smiling. "Good to see you, Adam."

Bzzzzzt. That soul-chilling sound of magical lightning sounded from the goblin-infested hill to the slight north. The blue-and-gold clad Lieutenant casually, though cautiously, glanced to the hill. Upon it stood some sort of mage of human or elvish build. The Fleetsman decided to think nothing of it. People hunted goblins on that hill all the time.

He looked to Constable Kenholme, considering. Then, shifting his weight and rolling his shoulders, he inquired:

"Say, what do you think about having you and Mariah drop by my place tomorrow evening? We're both off duty sometime after the eighteenth hour. I figure we could cook up some beef and hire one of those firework-mages. Maybe we could get a hold of that girl that helped us on patrol the other day--Kite, I think her name was." There was a note of hesitation in that last sentence.

He continued to look to Adam, waiting for a response.

[Adam Kenholme]

"Kite? The one that I still need to contact about my blasted laundry bill?"

Adam frowned, the name recalling him to the events of last night. Their brave entry into the underbelly of the city to rescue the wayward son of the good Andus Fallier had resulted in... friendly fire.

"Sheillagh's prices aren't exactly stellar, not with the war and all. Have you looked at the price of soap, these days?"

Adam tsked, folding his arms behind him as he resumed his position on the other side of the gates. The two of them, Lieutenant and Constable, flanked the stone-fortified entrance to the Jewel of the Eastern Empire. That they, these two uncommon friends, protected the city from the denizens of the natural world, struck a comedic chord with him.

"Tomorrow is a fantastic time, Nick." Adam answered, surprised but happy at Nick's invitation. By virtue of having the larger family (and a wife that could prepare the city's finest mint-lamb), he was accustomed to having Nick over for dinner at least two times a week.

"I'll drop the kids off at Jim's place for the evening, unless you wanted me to bring them? They still think the world of you since you gave them those painted tops you bought at Nex Ut Proditor."

[Nicholas Woodruff]

Nick quietly chuckled at Adam's expression of discomfort with the idea of further interactions with the pyromaniacal sorcerer they had met the other night, opting not to respond to his inquiries about the cost of soap and the like.

He smiled at the reference to his gift to Kenholme's young ones on the winter holiday. It was, perhaps, Nick's most favored visit with Adam and his family--by then, he felt confident he had effectively become one of their kin, in lieu of having his own. This was perfectly fine to him... as far as the middle-aged Lieutenant was concerned, the only barrier in relation between himself and the Kenholme family was blood, and bloodlines meant very little to him. He would not be surprised if Adam's kids considered him their uncle.

"They can come, if they want--that is, if you want them to. I'll set up some playthings around back so they can keep themselves busy before the fireworks."

He glanced to the hill, where the lightning-spawning mage from before had struck down a unit of goblins. He was suspicious at the sight of that same mage kneeling toward the west, his hands folded in a praying gesture.

"...so tomorrow, then..."

Nick had returned to his usual detached expression, though it was mixed with one of apprehension.

"Say, does that wizard up there look a tad... familiar... to you?"

[Adam Kenholme]

Adam smiled, nodding his head to the side as Nick spoke.

"Sounds like a plan, then. They'll be thrilled to come over to your place." His youngest, Daniel, was convinced that when he grew up wanted to be a Lieutenant Woodruff. Not just a Lieutenant, but a Lieutenant Woodruff. No amount of explaining really seemed to address that. Adam was content letting Daniel have his dream. What better role model than Nick?

The familiar crack, then bzzzt of lightning drew his attention to the infamous goblin hill. Adam nodded somewhat at Nick's suggestion. Come to think of it, the mage did seem familiar

"Say, Nick—haven't we seen those robes before?"

Adam's left hand fell to the grip of his crossbow, hanging within easy reach at his side on a sling. It was loaded with a bolt, but the mechanism had not been cocked back.

Adam searched his memories; despite only holding the rank of a Constable, he was a good law enforcer, and a smart investigator. Little details such as clothing, scars and facial features stuck with him. The fact that he could spot Gam "Sticky-Fingered' Krow in a crowd of dock-workers was a testament to that.

"Say, Nick... I think that's..."

Adam paused, not wishing to vocalize his suspicion. He brought his crossbow up in one smooth motion, however, and with distinct snrrick the mechanism kicked back. Loaded.

[Nicholas Woodruff]

Nicholas frowned, but did not hesitate to unsheathe his blade--a Dasarian Longsword--when Adam noted the mage's robes. He studied the scene for a few more seconds, then shouted over his shoulder.

"Hylatt, you and Danalus have the gate. Have Clarence and Robinson take your positions. Let none enter or exit the city until Kenholme and I return."

"Aye, sir."

"C'mon, Adam. Let's check this out. Better to be safe than sociopath-servèd sorry."

They began the slow climb up goblin hill, atop which a mage in familiar colors still knelt. Occasionally they stumbled on goblin corpses, but none of the typical raiding parties interfered in their climb. Woodruff became increasingly worried with each step.

Finally, they found themselves standing behind a human mage of some sort--slick black hair, yellow robes, and praying to some entity in the western skies. Nick nodded to Adam, signaling him to hide behind a nearby tree, while readying himself to incapacitate the mage, if need be.

He stood prepared for a moment, contemplating, but after that moment, he spoke in a deep and commanding, yet diplomatic, voice.

"Cerulean Fleet. Put your hands behind your head and stand slowly."

The mage did not move.

"I repeat: Put your hands behind your--augh!"

The Fleetsman stumbled as his face was struck with a previously unseen metal rod, held by some invisible entity. He fell against a tree, half-standing, half-leaning, wholly dazed.

The mage stood and turned to face him. As he did so, Nick's suspicions were confirmed: before him stood a yellow-and-orange clad mage, his eyes glowing a similar color. In his hand he held a rod that no man should ever care to so much as touch...

Before Nick stood a Canite summoner.

[Adam Kenholme]

Adam hoisted his crossbow up, resting it against his shoulder. He nodded to Nick as they made their way to the hill, traversing over electrified and burnt corpses of the goblins that prowled there.

They made their way to their hiding spots. Nick crouched behind a burnt birch trunk, and Adam ducked behind the remains of a spruce.

"Cerulean Fleet. Put your hands behind your head and stand slowly."

Nick had spoke, moving out from behind his hiding spot. Adam followed, raising his crossbow to his shoulder, and sighting the mage. One pull of the trigger would do it, he surmised.

The mage didn't move, and Adam squinted with suspicion.

It was then that the Nick recoiled, having been struck by some invisible... wait, was that a rod?

Adam looked from his friend to the mage, his brow furrowing. The spellcaster had turned, revealing his yellow-and-orange robes. In his hand was one of the infamous rods carried by only one such entity:

The Canite Summoners.

"Drop it!" Adam bellowed in his deep baritone. He stepped forward assertively, gesturing with his crossbow that he was not afraid to shoot.

The Summoner only grinned.

Adam growled, quickly sighted, and pulled the trigger. The mechanism of his old bow snriicked, and the shaft of the bolt sped away at an incredible velocity.

And stopped. The Summoner's grin had never faded. Instead, the Canite reached forward, and plucked the still bolt from mid-air. Once in his hand he studied it for a few moments, and flung it back.

The shaft sped through the air towards Adam, perhaps just as fast as he had moments ago fired it. The bolt made a sickening crunch as it embedded itself in the surcoat of his uniform, not puncturing deeply, but drawing blood.

The Constable fell back with yell, grabbing for his wounded shoulder.

[Nicholas Woodruff]

Nick remained in a daze for a few moments after realizing his foe, but as he heard Adam cry out in pain, he stumbled around, reaching for his dropped sword. He fell to the ground trying to grasp it, but succeeded nonetheless: the Lieutenant was now laying upon the ground, arm outstretched and hand grasping the hilt of his longsword. He looked slightly upward, and was greeted with the sight of his now visible assailant... none other than a Canite vampire.

The vampire attempted to impale Nick upon her rod, but the Lieutenant foresaw the attack, and had just barely escaped death by rolling to the left and deflecting the blow with his shield. The vampire, undeterred, continue to swing at Woodruff, as he clambered up and toward Adam. As he ran, the undead menace struck his back one, two, miss, and three times, sending jolts of pain down the guardsman's spine, and carrying them to the rest of his body. Still he pressed on to the site of Adam's fall, unwilling to give in to his own body's protest, determined to help his friend.

As he cleared within two meters of Kenholme, Nick dug his boots into the ground, bringing himself to a dead stop. He then swung his sword to the right, allowing the momentum he generated to flip his direction, and lunged forward with the blade. The Dasarian Longsword ran the vampire through, and she grimaced. However, being undead, and thus non-reliant on the vital organs such a blow would normally destroy she simply readied herself for a direct blow to Nick's head. He again anticipated this, having fought Canite vampires before, and knowing of their tactics--not hesitating, the Lieutenant tore upwards through the vampire, splitting her from the belly up in two.

The vampire, now dealt with, fell to the ground, but spilled no blood. Nick paid no mind to the Canite summoner as he slowly approached the two fleetsmen. Instead, he focused on carefully but quickly removing the arrow from Adam's torso, bandaging it as he did so.

"You alright, Adam?" Nick asked, unaware of the Canite Summoner behind him, ready to fill his head with fire and acid.