Neda and Ellie had stolen Kester’s murder-cloaks- the tattered, brown, hooded capes he would use whenever he went on one of his acquisition-runs with the Banshees. It had taken them the better part of the morning to set up their ruse, with several promises to go straight to the Village, where they would question Berral about all things concerning psychomancy. Ellie had led the way and had cleared a segment of the tunnels by the use of the spell Asrael had construed before their fight with Petrus and had allow them passage towards Gauja- towards where their predatory victims lurked.

Ellie’s step was lighter than it had been in some time, as genuine excitement animated her muscles- a rare and priceless emotion, ever since she had fallen for Gerathar's ruse. She kept her grimoire needlessly close to her chest... She knew the rune by heart- she had spent the night studying it meticulously, as opposed to Neda, who had spent the night pushing Asrael’s boundaries by removing the barrier- little by little. The warmth of his slap on her daring hands still lingered on her skin as the two women hunched down by the mouth of the old mine-shaft to look out across the widening in the Gauja.

On all sides, the docks stood empty and abandoned- an unnatural sight for Ellie. Her entire life, there had always been one or two boats awaiting the all-clear chime of the bells to begin their journey towards Capita, but from where they sat on the mucky riverbed, the bay was completely silent. The tall, rusted gates had been lowered on either mouthing of the river- sealing them inside their well-bloodied arena. Neda took a moment to appreciate the silence and the beauty- the fresh water’s lively currents as they rippled the surface to form swirls and spurts. But Ellie had no eyes for the beauty of the green waters- her attention was firmly affixed on the closest of the tall, dilapidated loading-buildings with its disused crane.

“Come on. I’m sure they’re here somewhere- that's what Kester said.” Ellie whispered over her shoulder- breaking the Blightlander from her enchantment. Neda felt a pang of hesitance as she watched Ellie crouch down and time her step with the gust-fueled swings of the creaking crane above. As much as the Blightlander wished to see Ellie’s spell and the devastation she would undoubtedly unleash on their enemy, she could not help but feel... guilty. They were breaking several of Asrael’s commandments and even if he were to never find out, she would know. But it was then she remembered the previous evening- when Asrael had sat there, staring at the map in his deep musings. He had glared at the paper with that look she so despised- with fear of that milkworm rapist who kept trying to warp his mind...

No, this was as much for her as it was for Ellie. She needed to test her skills with the daggers, particularly: how well she could defend anyone with the daggers. She followed after her associate- mimicking her crouch and the timing of the crane’s swings as to not sound their approach.

It only took them about an hour to find signs of life- the closed doors, the defensive barricades with its glued-on shards of glass. It was one of the buildings that had been used to load the boats and had apparently had an ample supply of wine, as numerous shards had been glued to every window and every entryway into the house... Neda bit her lip as she realized they would have to be cautious as they decided on which entrance they were to make use of, should they for some reason wish to go inside. Fortunately, Ellie had a plan of her own and had led Neda up to the road between the facility and the rest of the city, where they hunkered down on the cobbled stone and took shelter beyond two of the barricades established in the silent street.

“This is perfect...” Ellie whispered as she glanced to either side of the abandoned path, where the dockside warehouses had once stood tall- brimming with food and supplies either coming from- or going to Capita. But from where they sat, they could see that this district's days of glory had long since passed and precious little remained of its once-impressive buildings, save for a burnt shell of timber and stone.

“We can get them when they come or go.” Ellie whispered and grabbed a burnt stick from atop the barricade and began to make her scribbles on the stones. Neda reached behind her back and hoped to feel calmer in the knowing that the daggers were still strapped to the belt around her waist, but to no avail... as it were, it only served to make her feel more jittery. To make matters worse, it was eerily quiet, save for the gusts of wind upsetting the dust, ashes and rubble cluttering the street- leaving her ample time to construe worst-case scenarios in her frizzled mind.

Her red eyes scanned the distant rooftops, dreading- or hoping- that she would see one of Asrael’s naked, pale women stare their green eyes down at the two wayward girls, but all hope faltered as she saw a pair of courageous men further down the street- approaching their barricade with the confidence of someone who had learned to survive and thrive in the ruins of Pilta. One- tall, broad and bald, carried a large beam with numerous nails hammered into its edge. The second, much smaller man had a pair of glinting daggers on either hip- meaning he would be her target... whatever Ellie had planned, Neda hoped she would be capable of dealing with the largest of the pair, as she dreaded going up against that monstrously large stick with her two daggers.

“Someone’s coming, Ell... Two guys in leather clothes- I think they’re with those guys...” Ellie looked up from her carefully drawn rune to see the approaching duo- both clad in the Gauja Gang’s fine, black, studded leather armors and swallowed drily.

“Let’s do it.”