Oct 23, 2019 7:00 PM
Zevran rescues a Sarah
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Zevran was surprised to be a part of this assassination. Na- Wildling - she made sense, a powerful mage versus a powerful mage. What use was an elf with a few blades? 

But the Crows must be obeyed. They fed, housed, clothed him. They looked away when he visited houses of pleasure. They were the only family he had left. 

He looked at his fellow Crows, each of them clothed in the tell-tale black-and-silver armour, every head with a skull mask upon it. He tugged his own down, and then looked across to find Wildling.

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Wildling winks saucily at him, before lowering her own mask. Spells were already tingling on her fingertips, who needs siege weapons when she was here?

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They might need to get in there quickly. There's a lot of screaming happening and the harsh smell of blood and ozone.

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"Now." Their commander says.

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Wildling smiles viciously under her mask. Magic flares around her fingers, and then she pushes her hands forwards. 

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There is a soft boom, and then, as if the Maker himself kicked the wall in, bricks start collapsing to form a huge hole.

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Zevran follows his fellows inside.

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Wildling brings up the rear, carefully scraping a wound onto her arm.

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-- and there's their mark, facing them with her staff pointed; Evidence of her blood magic festering around her in dark red clouds.

"You will not have me."

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Zevran falls to the back of the group, next to Wildling.

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Wildling closes her eyes for a split second, before locating exactly what Zevran is looking for.

"Go get 'em, kid." She points to a passageway.

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Zevran salutes her, and melts into the shadows.

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Wildling then turns back to the blood mage, summoning up every ounce of power she has.

"Waste of magic," she mutters, and then unleashes a furious barrage of spells.

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Meanwhile, Zevran darts up a set of stairs, into a set of plain, but clearly expensively furnished, apartments. His mark is up here somewhere.

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There's a very, very locked door, with thick heavy chains, right at the end of the corridor.

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He pulls out a rune, enchanted by Wildling to detect magic. He places it near the chains.

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There's a barrier spell on the door. But it picks up and fades -- likely linked to the Magister downstairs.

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Wildling prepared him for this as well. Not many spells can nullify magic, outside of the Templar's bastardised version, but Wildling is particularly clever. 

Zevran takes out a dagger, a spell and enchantment applied to it, and touches it to the chains.

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The barrier flashes bright, blinding him for a moment, and breaks quite easily.

Now all that's left is the heavy chains and locks.

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Thank goodness for the mask, he's only blinded for a few short moments. When his vision clears, he immediately goes to his knees to pick the lock. Not his strongest suit, but the locks are clumsy and old.

Within a minute, they are clunking to the floor, and Zevran is back on his feet, dagger drawn and ready. He takes a breath, holds it, lets go.

Then he kicks in the door, ready to dodge any spells flung his way.

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There are no spells.

Instead; there is a girl standing in the far corner staring at him. She has no weapons and readies no spells.

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This must be the apprentice. She's beautiful- and clearly mistreated.

Still, the Crows must be obeyed.

There are no shadows to slink into, so Zevran just strides across the floor. She must know what is about to happen.

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She knows. But that doesn't mean she's not going to go down without a fight.

-- she charges forward with a yell and tackles him to the ground.

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She actually manages to make Zevran drop the enchanted dagger, but no mind. He is quick to loop a leg around hers, and flip her over, reversing their positions. One hand reaches up to grab her wrists and tug them above her head.

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She growls are him and tries to push him off.

"Get off me."

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Zevran says nothing. He learned the dangers of trusting a pretty face far too early on in his career. With her hands safely trapped above her head, Zevran presses down on her legs with his own to stop her moving. 

His free hand goes to a dagger in his belt.

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