As he pounced from the window, Vanemar was only inches away from being impaled upon the spears of two Honean soldiers. The High Mage’s trap had caught him off guard. He had expected the guards to be at the door, not the window that was too high to reach. It was his rapid movements that saved him from being killed as the soldiers had to sluggishly reposition themselves to follow his path over them. Touching the ground, his roll turned into an immediate sprint, realizing that the soldiers did not intend to wait.

As soon as one leg went forward Vanemar’s eyes widened as an incredible pain shot through it. It was a horrible truth that he had somehow forgotten over the last hour, he would not be running across the city with a wounded leg. But instead of making him feel hopeless, the pain induced a newfound anger.

How could he run into such a trivial issue at his only chance of redemption? Did his body not wish to be a part of him enough to allow him some leeway in this situation? Even if it did he could not allow the pain to beat him. He would get to the Wilted Rose even if he had to cut his own leg off to do so. So instead of allowing his body to crumble, Vanemar used the only other leg he had and hopped with all his strength.

Hopping on one leg as quickly as possible was a tactic that Vanemar had not expected to actually save him. A single mistake though and he would be pricked by the soldiers’ weapons for sure.

A very large number of people lay ahead, they were on the outskirts of the city’s marketplace. Within the clumped commerce was a variety of colorful stalls that surrounded a small garden in the center. He headed directly for it knowing that it would provide good cover.

A set of shouts to his left caused Vanemar to hiss in frustration. “I knew you’d come through here!” Came the ballsy voice of Hubah from within the crowd. The crowd tried to pay no heed to the voice of the deranged man but ultimately faltered at his next choice of words. “Don’t try to run now Dukeslayer!” Trying his best to avoid him, Vanemar made for a straight path through the market. “I’ve been through much to get to you. My entire company turned against me, Insulting me for cowardice that belonged to you!” The man began to rapidly push his way through the crowd, warhammer ready to be put to use. “But you have nowhere to run now. No merchant will pick you up and take you away like before. Now you must fight me! Fight me and die for my glory!”

Vanemar knew that he would have no chance to escape the man who had already begun to move through people like a loose bull. So instead of relying on luck he jumped into a small red tent. He hoped that hiding within the shop of a candle seller would be good cover from the mercenaries who were charging through the streets.

“Afternoon fellowman.” The woman who owned the shop said with a smile.

“Afternoon.” Vanemar responded while poorly hiding his displeasure.

“Where did you go you bastard!” Hubah wailed as he passed the shop with a thundering of steel boots.

The woman’s face paled. “Is there a fight happening?”

“Don’t know.” Vanemar answered in monotone as he waddled out of the tent.

Outside of the tent the market had been split in two. The mercenaries were already gone. The sights and sounds of the market had erased their trail completely. He sighed in relief, being chased all the time was starting to become more of a nuisance than a threat. If only his leg still worked, then he could release all the anger that had begun to accumulate. The thought made him feel a bit ashamed, It was becoming difficult to distance himself from his previous profession.

Moving with what he thought was an ordinary stride, Vanemar headed towards an alleyway. His injuries were starting to itch and burn painfully and the last thing he wanted was to entrust them with quick motion again.

It seemed that the mercenaries had spread their forces terribly thin. Besides Hubah, Vanemar had not seen any other dangerous men while crossing the open space between the market and alleyway.

With the exception of a lone man attempting to enter his home, the alleway was an empty stretch that Vanemar thought his pursuers were foolish not to watch. “Must be more tired than I am if they’ve spent all day running around.” Vanemar thought to himself. He had never had much respect for mercenaries, but to spend all day running around? To his irritated mind that was a sign of great incompetence on their part.

The sight of a balloon at the right end of the alleyway ended Vanemar’s barrage of thoughts. He clenched the grip of his sword with confident strength. No one would be stopping him today, even if he had to kill every last mercenary.

Vanemar pushed deeper into the calmly moving crowds at port as a group of guards crossed the road in front of him. The port was now covered with them, their armor shining gold below the setting sun.

The red hull of Jioh’s ship was easily distinguishable. It was a fairly large shipping vessel with two floors below the deck and a dark red paint on its wooden hall that fit the name Wilted Rose. Vanemar was more at ease, now he only needed to focus on not being seen.

Vanemar continued to move at a slow pace within the crowds until a loud thump occurred directly behind him. Turning in the sound’s direction led his eye to a crossbow bolt that had collided into the ground, its wooden shaft chipped from its speed. Vanemar looked at his surroundings in a panic as the crowd quickly and loudly dispersed. His eyes locked on a man frantically loading another bolt into their crossbow from the second floor of a nearby building. This was the signal for Vanemar to move quickly. Turning back around, he realized that he was doomed when the frantic crowd had gotten the attention of every soldier in sight. Who else could the limping man who had just been shot at be besides the Dukeslayer?

Vanermar was getting used to leaping now, but that meant nothing when soldiers and mercenaries poured out of every corner around him. Using the confusion that had been brought about by the fleeing crowd as cover, Vanemar hid in plain sight as his pursuers pushed through the civilians and each other. Spears were thrusted and swords swung but they only caught air, Vanemar was jumping from side to side. There would be no one they would hit him without hurting an innocent.

A large crowd ahead brought Vanemar to a halt that nearly caused him to fall over. It seemed he had found the whole of the mercenaries at an inconvenient time, during a meeting.

“See Hubah! No use tearing down the whole city if he’ll just end up in one of two places!” Said the elder mercenary that had nearly caught him just a few days before.

“Damn!” came Hubah’s voice from behind the man. “Don’t touch him. He owes me a fight!”

A large amount of footsteps came from behind Vanemar. “This is no longer your business mercenary! The Archduke has already ordered you to cease this chase.” It was a group of Honean soldiers. their numbers were sparse compared to the mercenaries but their equipment was of much higher quality. They wore full sets of plated armor and carried polearms. At their flank were marksmen who carried heavy crossbows.

"You overstep your authority." The veteran said plainly. "Not only is your request against Honean law, but we outnumber you. You sure you want to know what happens when you get in our way?"

The soldier scowled at him. "You're making a mistake." He stood proudly but his voice began to waver.

The group of mercenaries bursted into laughter and insults. "Mistake? Don’t you know the price on that man’s head!" The mercenary said with a smirk. Vanemar glared at him, he did not like having his life negotiated in such a manner

A great stomping of hooves caused the soldiers in the area to grow quiet. From behind the Honeans, with green robes that shined brightly in the orange sun, the High Mage of Hien appeared with a small army. Mounted knights stood above the soldiers as they approached with a threatening authority. Beside the mage was a man wielding a magisword, a glowing weapon that used magic to deliver lethal swings. Vanemar was beginning to feel the pressure of being stuck between two walls, even more so when they began to speak. "You've impressed me Dukeslayer." Said the High Mage as he came to a halt. "You're just as good at running as you are at hiding. I really did think I had you there for a moment and then you just happened to get yourself into another impossible situation.”

"Sir." One of the soldiers who had been arguing called to the High Mage with a salute. "These are the same men who were originally hired by his excellency, it seems that they are not willing to give up their claim over the Dukeslayer.”

The High Mage sighed. “Of course...”

The man who led the knights pulled up his visor to show off his condescending frown. "We are here to finish the job that you could not.” His young face clashed with the challenge he presented. “That is why the Arch Duke has chosen to use us instead. He has no use for halfwitted mercenaries.”

The comment caused anger to sprout from the crowd of mercenaries. Vanemar looked towards it relief, at least they were not entirely focusing on him. "Did he really expect that to work." He thought as he finally concluded as his exhaustion caused him to relax.

“Insults won’t get you anywhere.” The veteran said with a frown. "You and me both know that there is only one way to settle this, it’s the only thing we're good at to be precise." The mercenaries shouted with bloodlust as they raised their weapons and battered their shields.

Vanemar noticed the High Mage glare at the knight with exasperation. "We will be having none of that." The High Mage said with. “Under his excellencies authority, I order you to stand down.”

"His excellency has no authority!" The mercenary yelled passionately. "Do you expect the council to let him break the law!"

After staring at the mercenaries for a moment, the High Mage squeezed the handle of his magiglove. "Get the Dukeslayer!" He ordered the soldiers. "I’ll handle these fools!" A great storm of dust began to speedily manifest around the mercenaries. It glowed with an unnerving green hue and grew taller as it swirled. Vanemar looked behind him, The soldiers were doing as the mage had said and charged towards him. So without much thought, Vanemar took the only path that would give him an ounce of a chance and went for the great swirl of magic.

Vanemar lifted an arm to cover his eyes as he slammed into the twisting dust. The inside was obscured and pushed towards the opposite end. The mass of debris pushed down on him like a heavy blanket and he felt it stick to every crevice of his body, slowing his only leg down so much that it moved at a speed slower than a walk. He continued to push against everything including the storm itself until the light returned to his eyes.

Enough dust to fill a basket fell out of him at once as he tried to catch his breath. He spat dirt from his mouth and shook some off more dust before breaking for the ship. Vanemar was able to sneak behind a crowd of onlookers as they were transfixed before the grand magical show behind. Looking back for the last time, Vanemar saw the storm finally disperse. He was surprised he was still alive. That had been the nearest he had ever been to death, it had been the High Mage that had inadvertently saved him.

Vanemar was beginning to feel the weight of the day as his aching muscles and dust covered clothing made his last movements a slow waddle. Jioh's ship was nearby and he used the last of his energy to reach it. Going up the ramp was like climbing a hill. He fell onto the deck like a rock. Without any energy left, he decided to lay there. He had reached his second chance safely.

As the sun fell into the horizon High Mage Giris met with Captain Yeon atop the forecastle of his ship. The man had changed out of his plate armor and into his officer uniform, a dark green thing with gold details and epaulets to compliment. The man looked down upon the city with a frown on his face, a frown that deepened as Giris approached. It was easy for Giris to tell why the man was acting in such a way. The Dukeslayer had slipped past them once again and managed to leave the city in the late day’s confusion.

"Captain." Giris said as he went to stand beside the man.

"High Mage.” The man responded without turning his head.

Giris rolled his eyes. He had been told the man was young but was not expecting him to be quite as immature. “I’ve acquired a glass jar for the tracker, we will be able to follow the Dukeslayer as soon as we depart.”

“Good.” The Captain tried hard to compose himself as he turned to face the mage. “Allow me to explain my current discomposure, High Mage. While you have been granted the highest authority in this mission by his excellency, I do not tolerate the recklessness that you showed today.”

“Recklessness?” Giris held in a snicker. “The same goes for you Captain. It seems we both aided the Dukeslayer in his escape.”

“What?” the Captain stared at him in confusion. “My actions were justified!”

“If you say so Captain.” Giris was getting tired of the small argument. “I mean no offense, but I think it may have been a good thing that the Dukeslayer managed to escape this time.” The Captain’s face showed no comprehension. “What I mean is, I saw something while hunting him down. The Dukeslayer may be aiding the Cult of the Lost with something in regards to that artifact.”

“They still exist?”

"You can't eliminate an idea Captain, even if you kill every last cultist in Honea.”

“Well I guess that is some good news. At Least there is something else to tell his excellency when we report our failure.”

"Compose yourself." Giris said as he cautiously laid a hand on his shoulder. “With this tracker.” He showed the jar hidden under his robe, a bright orange orb floated within. “We could chase him across the entirety of Deskaly.”

A set of footsteps ascending into the quarterdeck caused its occupants to turn their heads. It was the shipmaster, the man appeared to be just as enthusiastic as they were. "Sorry to interrupt you gentlemen." He made a terrible attempt at a bow. “I can’t order the ships to depart without knowing where that flying orange wants us to go.”

“Here.” Giris said as he handed the tracker to the man. “Hold the capped end towards the sky.”

The shipmaster momentarily closed his eyes as the bright magic light hit them. “Seems it also works as a lamp.” He grabbed it with delicate hands and held it in front of him. “Looks… Northwest.”

“Towards the Brighthawks?.” Captain Yeon said as he began to yawn.

“If he’s working for the cultists, I doubt they’d head anywhere else.”

“Then I hope the kingdom won’t mind our intrusion, not that I care.” He waved his goodbyes as he wandered off to the stairs.

Giris watched the man go for a moment before reevaluating his impression of him. “At least he’s persistent. “ He thought. There was still the question of how a man like him was promoted to captain though. Hopefully he would not cause trouble for the Brighthawks. While Giris hated them just as much, the last thing he wanted to do was start a war.