Kirsten Acquisces to the Request.

Kirsten listened intently and shrugged. She had no desire to search that slaughterhouse again. She had seen less gore in the shambles near her home. Still.....

"I think you're right. I must have missed something. I need an open flame. Watch for drafts as I pass the flame along the the walls of the room. It's the only explanation. Unless, of course, our friend here is a liar."

Kirsten Observes

Kirsten had cursed herself roundly -under her breath of course- after her conversation with Wanda. Letting such a valuable source of information simply walk out the door had not been her finest moment. She'd thumped her fist hard against her thigh as though to punish herself for the error.

Wanda, it seemed, was exerting her natural authority as a gentle-lady and the others -including, much to Kirsten's surprise- Kirsten herself- were readily following her lead. Either the woman had a fine talent for acting which surpassed Kirsten's own, or she had a hithertoo unexpected ruthless streak a mile wide.

And as for Johann? Well, it was almways the quiet ones, wasn't it?

Kirsten looks around.

"What a waste." Kirsten observed, shaking her head sadly and eying up the now ruined rug. "That would have fetched a fair price in Altdorf." Or, better still, it would have looked great in her parent's rough hovel, hidden in the town's alleyways and byways, out of sight of visiting merchants.

At that, she placed a hand on Wand'a shoulder, squeezing gently in a show of support and gender solidarity.
"Well done Wanda. Well done."

She stood slightly back from the headless corpse, her eyes surveying the whole room and occasionally hissing at someone who obstructed her view.

"Try to stand still for a bit would you, and don't touch anything till I'm done. I'm trying to figure out what happened here. Beyond the obvious, I mean."

Kirsten Shows Mercy

Kirsten gestured with her crossbow towards the door the thug's companions had just left though.

"Try not to wear a groove in the stones on your way out."

Once satisfied that the thug had departed, she turned to address the others. "This caper is becoming considerably more dangerous than I had anticipated."

And that was saying something, to say the least. But thoughts of a university education in Altdorf beckoned. Surely they'd admit a woman who could pay as hefty a bribe as this job promised to pay?

"I don't like being separated like this. We should re-group and discuss our next move."

Kisten Takes The Deal.

Kirsten nodded, not taking her eyes off the other corridor.

A wall? What could they mean by that? Surely not an actual defensive wall. Down here?

"You lads are in over your heads, that's the Gods' own truth of it." She made a dismissive gesture with her loaded crossbow, careful not to let it waver too far away from the mid-point between the thugs and the source of the ghastly noises. " If you rats want to abandon ship, we won't stop you. But you take what you're carryin' and that's it. Now turn out your pockets before you go. We've no interest in any pretty baubles or hard shinnies you might be carrying, but we're not letting you out of here with what we've come for either."

She shrugged again,

"Soon as that's done, you can go. You're in your own escaping time now boys."

Kirsten Fears the Worst.

Kirsten glanced uneasily at her companions. Hadn't they heard that? Those faint noises from elsewhere sounded damnably like combat and even... chanting? Conscious of being in strange company, she refrained from shivering, but shifted her stance slightly to keep a wary eye on the corridor from whence came the din.

Kirsten shakes her head and stage whispers at Wanda, loud enough the the Tilean's to hear as well.

"Not a good deal boss. He takes you and then plays you as a hostage against ours. Someone else should go with him. Someone who can handle themselves in a scrap. Someone we can afford to lose."

Not that they could afford to lose anyone, but it couldn't hurt to make these scum think that this group was as ruthless and callous about such things as the Tileans themselves were.

A Bold Plan: Kirsten takes Aim.

Kirsten kept her crossbow level and aimed at the centre-chest of the biggest man present. She could feel sweat soaking into the rim of her hat and felt strangely grateful that the floppy garment. As much for it's ability to conceal her nervous sweating as for the property that kept sweat from dripping into her eyes and spoiling her vision. She made sure to stand near the light, allowing the thugs a good, unobstructed view of her blood drenched clothing.

She forced a cocky smile and allowed her index finger to tap impatiently against the wood of her crossbows stock, close enough to the metal lever that it would require little more than a slight twitch to unleash a thumb-thick bolt of steel-tipped wood into the mans body.

Kirsten bit her lower lip, wrinkles forming on a forehead creased with deep thought.

"I agree with everything you say Malmir, especially your interpretation of events. But truly, I'm not sure how best to take advantage of this. They may be bloodied, but so are we. Such gangs as these as close-knit and there's not one of us here who could pass as Tilean. Well, I might, but I'd not be recognized and would likely give myself away as soon I was forced to give voice."

Kirsten Agrees

Kirsten nodded, grateful that the flickering light would hide the sudden rush of blood away from her face. Truthfully, she was surprised that Malmir's rather suggestive comment hadn't sent it all back up to her cheeks. She looked down at her blood-soaked clothing ruefully.

Lesson learned, she thought, leave the fighting to the boys and stick to what I'm good at. Sneaking. All this claret is hardly going to help me blend in anywhere outside of a shambles.

"I'm not fit for bluffing anymore am I?" Not that her bluffs had accomplished much so far, "We'll sneak down to the end of that corridor and take a look."

Deadly Quiet: Kirsten Speaks

Padding softly away from the door, Kirsten motions for the others to join her in the centre of the room, by the overturned table.

"I hear something heavy and wooden being moved around next door. Could be that the noise out there hid the sounds of fighting in here. Could be that they heard the fighting and are assembling a barricade. I'm going to move to the door, open it slighlty, and take a peek. Can someone cover the lantern with a cloak while I peek out? I don't want the light in here shining out when I take a peek."

Kirsten pads as quietly as she able over to the door once again, placing each foot on the stone florr toe-first, then heel last, to minimise noise.

Once the light behind her is extinguished and the others stand ready, she opens the door just enough to peek out into the room beyond.

Murder in the Dark: Kirsten

Kirsten leaned her whole body weight into her strike, feeling the pommel of her sword hard against her breastbone while she forced the blade through muscle, flesh and bone to find the beating vitals beneath. She'd been shocked by how difficult it was, physically, to kill a man. Nearly as shocked as she'd been to discover she felt no guilt or pity for this man, whose murdering ways had brought death to so many. She'd thought that taking a life, especially in so grim and grizzly a manner, would evoke feelings of pity and guilt. At least, that's how it happened in the songs. Instead, she glared fiercely into the thugs eyes as he died, hate blazing inside her.

That's for all the weeping goodwives, beaten children and disfigured whores left in your wake, you dirty Tilean bastard!

It took three sharp tugs and her boot against the mans face to draw her blade from his chest. By then the fight was almost over, she turned away from the struggles of the last thug to watch the door, ready to fillet the first man who came through.

What will Wanda think of me now? she thought, strangely perturbed by the notion.

Bedlam: Kirsten the Killer?

Kirsten stood stock still for a moment, shock overcoming her at the mans sudden and messy demise. Was that me? Or... or.....

Shaking herself from her reverie, she spit blood from her mouth, disgusted and elated by the coppery taste of a dead mans vitae in her mouth, and slid across the table.

With her man obviously (and messily dead) and the leader immobile, the boys could handle the third man. She made for the door, intending to prevent the arrival of any reinforcements who may have heard the noise of the engagement, when she stopped in horror. The first man -the one she'd shot- was down. But he could still scream or call out. Hating herself for what she was about to do, she closed on him with murder in her eyes and swung her blade!

The Coiled Spring

Kirsten recoiled in horror at the sight of blood spurting from the leaders wound. Though she hadn't killed him -she'd flinched at the moment of release, her spirit railing against the though of sending a thumb-thick piece of wood and iron into a mans heart- she felt guilt roil in her belly.

Yet these were evil men. They'd killed other men just hours before. And now, they'd kill her companions if they let her. Malmir was aready knocking another arrow, not yet ready to enter the sprawling melee. She didn't trust herself to shoot again into the riot before her, but nor could she leave Werner and Johann fighting two to one.
She set the empty crossbow aside, leaning it hurriedly against one wall and drawing her sword even as she waited for Malmir to shoot. As soon as the elf let fly, she would charge.