Zeriat, or Zet as she prefers to be called, was keeping a sharp eye out from the top of a porch-roof. For friend or foe she watched, although it was unlikely that someone would come to help this illegal gathering when all the regular members were already inside, and foe it is that came.

After tilting a window open long enough to whisper "hark," the spritely young woman dropped to the ground below and walked up to meet the strangers. This was her house, after all, and she could do whatever she wanted on its property, or at least that was her way of thinking. She could down one with a throwing axe at this distance, or maybe a naginata through one would work better, but both weapons were inside with the meeting. She only carried a reglar axe for chopping wood so that she could claim that was what she had been doing, and that was why she had the axe. Oh, no, nothing suspicious going on here.

"Are you Zeriat Nat'al?" one of them asked in a doubting voice. Ah yes, but she did look young.

"Who are you?" Zet countered, "I didn't hire you, and so I don't want you around."

The two exchanged grim looks intended to conceal their true intent, but the taller one began unconsciously stroking his sword. "We've been walking a long ways now, and we just need a drink or two. You wouldn't mind our company would you?"

Now that was definately a threat, not what he said really, but the way he said it as if he thought she had no choice. "If you wait here, I'll get you a drink but that's all. Move, and I'll shoot you from upstairs, and then when I get back, maybe you can tell me why you're really here?" she told them in a friendly lilt, but her expression was a smirk at the end.

The two ruffians exchanged another look, this time knowing their quarry was at hand. Any doubt that this was Zet shrugged its shoulders and left. But when they turned to answer, Zet was already walking back to the house, and their choices were to wait or follow unbid.

They choose the second, and while their slow approached seemed innocent enough from a distance, Zet had recognized the miniscule tatoos on their upper-arms and had already given those in the house a signal. It was hard to believe that the ruffians had been stupid enough to leave shoulders bare, trusting that Zet's eyes were neither keen nor sharp, but then that's what her enemies got for sending their least worthy hunters.

We'll have to hide the bodies somehow, Zeriat thought to herself with a mental sigh when she heard the twing of a bow being released, followed but the grunt of someone hit. Two twangs, two grunts. She didn't even need to turn around to know how that had ended.

~~~~

On the busy streets of the Anthalis Adán was caught returning home. Now, returning home was no crime for a simple salesman like Adán, especially when it was the end of the day and his work shift was over with, but two men idly standing outside his door seemed to think so. "Hello, can I help you?" Adán asked cheerily while he was still well out of reach. He had seen the two men before they had seen him, and in theory he could have hightailed it without pursuit, but the answer to his curiosity was far more important to him.

If his heart pounding was telling him the right thing about why these men were here, he'd have to worry about the sitution sooner or later, and knowing sooner might save his life in the end. He was just an average citizen, right? Nothing done wrong, and nothing to fear. So far he'd managed to convince everyone of that.

"Uh, yes. We'd like to see you inside, Sir Adán."

"Sir? When did I earn that title?" Adán laughed, thinking of the short knife in his belt. "You must have the wrong person."

"Well, we'd like to talk to you a moment before we decide that," the second thug said almost as politely as the first.

"State what you want first. I'm not feeling up to letting stangers in my house today."

The streets were on Adán's side today, full enough that the longer he stood there staring at the two men on his porch, the more likely it was that people would remark on that later. Or perhaps even alert the police now, but that was asking for too much luck. Adán wasn't used to actually wanting police help!

"We think we may have found your father," the first thug said evenly.

His father? His father had vanished years ago, and no one had known who his father even was except for himself and his mother. And besides that, if they really knew who his father was, they knew more about him then he cared them to. But maybe, just maybe, they were on his side. If they had been friends of his father, maybe they weren't here to kill him or arrest him. "That seems like a terrible thing for me to misplace," Adán acknowled. "You look thirsty-- why don't you come inside? It's not much, but it's still my place to offer," he continued politely and opened the door.

It really wasn't much, just a small place squished in beside all the other small places available to live in. It had exactly two rooms, and one of those the bedroom which Adán made sure to close the door to as soon as he was inside. "Wine, water? It's not very good wine, and I daresay it's not very good water either."

"Umn, that's ok," thug two answered, taken aback by Adán's apparent unconcern and, overall, polite if slightly flippant attitude.

"Well then, what can you tell me about my father?"

Without exchanging looks, both men drew their swords. "You are under arrest for several thefts and one murder, Aikatherine d'Gard."

"I'm sorry, I don't know who you think you're talking to," Adán replied, but drew his knife also. "And I don't believe that you two are officers."

"There's no use trying to resist, Ma'am. We're giving you the opportunity to come quietly, but if you run or fight we'll just send more officers, and next time we won't be worried about not making a scene, or even taking you alive."

Gritting his teeth, he replied, "I'm not who you say I am."

"Your father spilled everything once we caught him," thug two replied with a grin, then made the first move-- a simple but quick thrust forward with his sword.

"You've mistaken me for someone else!" Adán shouted as he danced around the table and ducked out the side door as fast as he could. It was a lie: they had his true identity perfectly right. In fact, the only thing that wasn't true was the murder charge, but as badly as the Council obviously wanted her, they'd make that stick. Or worse yet, they'd throw law out the window just long enough to stab Katherine threw the heart, or torture her, or any number of things that she would rather avoid.

Her disguise had served her for a handful of years, but now she was on the run again. The Arcane Underground wouldn't be too happy with her cover being blown, but they were her best option at the moment, assuming she could actually reach them before she was caught...