Disciple

[Pàxèn]

Please be aware that this is a bit of a draft!



Chapter:1

Awakening


Darkness. The only sound was breathing, his own breathing. Slowly shapes began to form but they were snatched away as he fell back into unconciousness.

Pain now. Dull and throbbing. He was no longer lay on his back but now face down on a dusty flat surface. He heard a faint noise like thunder. He tried to get up and...

... he was standing now. Looking at someone, a woman. He could not find a name for her. Then he spoke it. Aliant. But it was not him speaking. He was there in his body, a prisoner of the mind. The words made no sense to him. They were mixed up and garbled seemingly spoken from miles away. She smiled at something and he felt his heart soar. He loved this woman. Then he had the blade in his hand. He saw it slice into her back. He wanted to stop it to change it. But he could not, all he could do was stare in mute horror as his laughter echoed across..

He awoke again. Covered in sweat. But now he was leaning on some form of altar. Everything he saw was in stark relief. There was light coming from somewhere but he could not place it. He saw some form of torch. He began looking for something to light it. Suddenly it flared into life, now all he could see was white. He walked foward but tripped over something on the floor. He landed face down and just lay there, waiting. Slowly he could begin to see the room again, but there were no colours. He turned to see what he had tripped over, it was a skeleton.

He examined it carefully. It was fully decomposed with no sign of any flesh or hair and the clothes on it had long since turned to dust. Suddenly he was aware of his own nakedness. He looked about for something to cover himself with. The room was large and pillars acted as support for the roof. Inbetween the pillars were large empty alcoves. There was one door at the oppisite end of the room. The altar was long, flat and unadorned. Behind it was some sort of clear glass like a window. It was covered in intricate designs and runes. He walked towards it and noticed that it shimmered in the light like a billowing tapestry.

He reached out to touch it and suddenly it dissappeared. Behind was clothing and weaponry. Suddenly he felt a blinding pain and he collasped onto the ground...

... he was smiling as he finished the speech. He felt so happy and everyone else certainly looked so. Hundreds upon thousands of people cheering his name and feeling great joy. He raised his hand and changed his expression to something more somber. Slowly a silence fell.
"Today is a day for us to rejoice in our freedom. But it is also a day to remember those who can not rejoice with us. All of you have lost someone, if not in the fight for our freedom then in the millions of pointless battles and wars before it. We have been fighting for longer than we can remember, since the dawn of the first mortal we have been warring in the names of the Gods, and they in the name of Chaos and Order. But no more. Some of us, myself included, have fought through what many refer to as Hell to get to this day. We have defied Gods and fought battles against armies that outnubered us twenty to one. But after so long fighting we have earned a freedom for all to enjoy. We remember those who gave their lives for this and in their memory we will keep fighting. We will fight for our freedom. We will fight for the freedom of our children. We will fight for the freedom of all. We will right the wrongs of the past and make a bright future. We will prevail."
The roar was deafening. As he walked away he smiled, he now knew they would do..

... he was on the floor again. He sighed to himself, This is getting annoying.

He stood up and leaned against the altar. He stayed there for a moment gathering his thoughts. He began to think back as far as he could. But everything was fuzzy, it was hard to describe. Suddenly something would become clear but when he tried to grasp it and discern its nature it would slip away like a dream.

He sighed once again and shook his head, this was getting him nowhere. He looked at the door thinking, If I want answers I have to leave here.

He shivered suddenly and smiled. First I need clothes. He walked over to the assortment of gear before him. Some of it seemed familiar while others seemed alien. He got dressed quickly. He had an undershirt of tough brown cloth and over it he wore what could only be described as a ragged collection of leather and chain bound into a single piece of armour that looked nothing like armour at all. But then a thought crossed his mind, Better to be the unseen dagger than the expected axe. Someone had said that to him, but he could not remember who. His leggings were a light, loose and durable leather with a second cloth pants that was worn inside and was considerably tighter.

Next came boots. These were of impressive quality. They were also a perfect fit and did not ride high enough to obsruct his movement in any way. There were two gaunlets that fit perfectly and while being mostly made of a medium strenght leather they had bands of a strong black metal that was surprisingly flexable. A final piece of armour was a single heavy plate bracer wraped in leather straps. He examined it for a second before almost instinctively placing it on his left arm.

As he began to arm himself he paused to consider his weaponry. He had three swords. One was a servicable short sword made of steel with no obvious embellishments. The next one was a long sword with a design that spread from the hilt upwards. Finally he came to a long dagger that was of an entirely different quality. It was almost flawless both in balance and design. It was not as short as the first nor as long as the second and it curved upwards at the end. It had no hilt and the grip seemed designed for his hand alone. The metal was also of greater quality. While the blade itself was thinner he could see that it was far stronger than the pervious two.

He found a belt with two scabbards, once he had it on him he placed the short sword on his right side and the long sword on his left. There was also a back scabbard that was slung over the right shoulder and clasped with the belt. He placed the final blade into that.

Next came an assortment of knives. They were of varying size but all were perfectly balanced and obviously designed to be thrown. Without thought he secreted them about his person. Some in obvious places and others hidden but easily accessable.

Now that he was fully attired he paused for a moment to study himself. He suddenly realised he must look fairly ridiculous. He was thin to the point of illness but still maintained some strenght. However he must look pretty comical, a thin man with wild hair wearing armour that looked as though a child had tossed it together.

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. When he opened them again he saw something he must have missed. It was a silver necklace with a small red stone dangling from it. As he reached for it a woman in battle garb appeared infront of him. He leapt back and prepared to draw his sword when something caused him to pause, I know this woman. As he studied her futher he saw that she was transparent, an illusion.

She was tall without being imposing and had a strange alien beauty. She was wearing thick chainmail and had a large fully circular serrated blade in her right hand and a small shield on her left arm. He waited for her to do something but she was motionless.

"Who are you?" he asked. His voice sounded strange, surprisingly deep and a bit thick. She reacted with a slight turn of her head. Then she spoke.

"I am placing this here in the event that you awake from your slumber. We failed. Defilarian is dead and Esir is in ruins. You sacrificed yourself for our cause twice already, you gave your life twice so that we may suceed. But in vain, as we have ultimately failed. I know it is hard to ask of you to put your third chance at life in risk by continuing the battle but we must. I do not know when you will get this message, or even if you will be the one to recieve it. But I beseech you to complete what we started you are the only hope for all of us."

She turned around to talk to someone else. "Yes I know."
A moment passed. "How far away are they?"
He did not hear the reply and she tuned back to her original facing.

"I have little else to say beyond what I have already said but incase this should fall into the wrong hands I say the next in Kyrean. Kas'mare josl eis Marnouin, sak tere meth. This message will only play once but keep the stone with you, it has several complex charms and enchantments that will undoubtedly help you."

She faded away until the now silent tomb seemed even more empty than before. He walked over and picked up the necklace. As he put it on he shook his head. That message raised more questions than it answered. He turned to leave and....

... was standing in some sort of town square. It was bright and cold. Probably somewhere near winter season wise. Something was odd however. Then he realised he was in control. He was younger here. He could not tell how he knew, he simply knew. He had a sword in one hand and a long dagger in the other, the long dagger he recognised as the one he had found in his tomb. He was wearing chainmail and it was splattered with blood. He walked forward and a group if soilders saluted him. One of them spoke up.
"Couldn't 'ave done it without ya Captain, saved our asses again"
"Just make sure all of you remember that next time it comes to buying drink"

The soilders walked away laughing. Where did that response come from?. Suddenly he knew where he was, Marnouin! Another man came up to him.
"So Paxen I see you are enjoying another happy victory"
"I see you are sucessfully drunk in record time as usual, sometimes I wonder why you got General. The way you drink we are lucky you are sober enough not to get us all killed."
He stopped in his tracks, So this is a memory I control but I am not in total control of?.

"Come on man there are about 30,000 of them after fortifying a ridge in the mountains to the north, rumor has it that they have a Gate up there to. So that 30,000 could quickly become 300,000. I want you to take a look at it and see how you think we should proceed."

Suddenly he was standing over a map, the General pointed to something. A name. Jaiso. He raised his head and....

... was back in the tomb. At least this time he was still standing. He would have to get that under control and soon. What is Jaiso, a continent or a country?

As he considered this he moved to the door.

[Pàxèn]

Chapter: 2

Seeker


Allison was young for her position; at the age of 17 she was almost a fully accomplished member of the Assassin's Guild. The Assassin's Guild being one of the branches of the Goddess Rascha's church. She had worked hard for her position, and being part Sagnir any position was an achievement. After a rapid ascension through the ranks she now stood poised to make her first kill, a rite of initiation into the highest level in the Assassin's Guild.

This kill would be in many ways unique, as not only would it be her first for the Guild but it would also be done on a very specific manner. A sacrifice. One thing puzzled her now, why this man. She had watched him for several days and one thing about him stood out; he was just a simple mercenary. And from the way he spoke, and acted, he was from some extremely backwater planet. All of the above caused her great concern, as normally the Initiation Kill was someone important. There was something about him she was missing but she couldn't place it.

Either way she might ask him before she killed him, as right now she was on the ceiling above him. As she slid gracefully down not making a sound something odd happened, he opened his eyes and looked right at her. They stayed that way for what seemed like an age as thousands of questions ran through her head. Had he seen her when he came in, if so how? He gave no reaction and even if she were not invisible it wouldn't matter as she was concealed in the almost complete darkness of the room. Was he more than he seemed? Was this test made more difficult deliberately? Had he seen her before when she was studying him?

Suddenly he spoke.
"Or you going to stay there all night?"
A sudden spark of anger ran through her, she hated when people spoke to her condescendingly.
"Your not very good at what you do."
He stood up, as with the last few nights he had never used the bed. Always just sitting on the floor. As he began to move away she pounced and with almost inhuman speed he spun around gripped her extended arms. Using the motion of her attack he swung her straight into a dresser almost breaking it in two.

She quickly rolled away from the dresser and stood just in front of the door. She paused for a moment and then leapt forward hitting him full on in the chest and driving him to the ground. She drew her sword and stabbed downward. Again those lightning reflexes saved him, as in one smooth motion he diverted her blade and threw her off him. By the time she was back on her feet, he was attacking her viciously. With both fists and feet. She blocked each of his blows smoothly, countered, was blocked in turn, blocked another attack, countered and was blocked again. She stopped stunned for a moment; this man was using the exact same attack and defence forms as the Guild. The members of the Guild who were trained in this fighting form were exclusively female.

That moments pause cost her a great deal. As in a flowing series of strikes he drove her to the wall, and pressed a dagger to her throat. She stopped moving accepting the inevitable, but he didn't kill her. For some reason he stepped back.
Well, she thought, it is going to be his death after all. In a single lightning move she drove him back, with a blow to the head caused him to stumble backwards and slashed at him with her sword. Continuing the move she rolled forward and stopped just before the wall. Thank Rascha the room was large.

Turning around her smile of victory was quickly replaced with shock; he was standing again. Her eyes widened considerably, how had he managed to survive? Then she saw the slight tear to his clothing, so he had managed to anticipate the move and reacted with the appropriate counter move. Well at least he isn't a magician.

Just as that thought crossed her mind she suddenly lost all control of her arms and legs, falling to the ground like a pillar. The man walked over and yanked her blade from her now limp hand. He studied it in the dim light of predawn that now shone through the window.
"This is impressive, but not as good as the one I have."
He pulled a sword from a sheath on his back, and she was stunned by the resemblance. She was also stunned that she missed it, after studying him for several days she should have noticed that. She looked at him with a mix of loathing and anger as he compared the two blades.
"Indeed mine is superior, so who are you exactly?"
Her look of anger and loathing changed to a look of amusement, as if he didn't recognize her from both the garb and the blade. As he continued looking at her questioningly her amusement changed to pity, he was definitely from a backwater planet.

"That is none of business, either kill me or let me kill you."
"I am not in the business of killing everyone I meet, excluding those who are trying to kill me."
"Then why am I still alive?"
"Because you interest me. And your interest in me also interests me."
He crouched down...

...Paxen studied his would assassin. He had been expecting her for several days; clearly she thought she was a great deal better than she actually was. Both her following of him and her attempt to kill him were sloppy and over-confident. But she did know how to fight. He pulled off her black mask that totally covered her head.

She was a good deal younger that he had previously assumed, with fair blonde hair that had streaks of faded black. It was cut short and tussled by the removal of the mask. Her skin was also fair, at least compared to Paxen's. She had thin eyebrows and strange cat-like eyes that were blue in colour. She was of average height, probably measuring five feet and eleven inches. Which was taller than him. She was lithe and fit.

He could see that his answer confused her.
"I will be straight with you, up until about a year ago I have almost no memory... and what memories I have are jumbled and I think are mostly fantasies on my part. So I wonder, who would want me dead?"
"Is that story supposed to make me in any way sympathetic to you? Because if it is you have failed miserably. And so you know, I am a member of the Assassin's Guild and a Priestess of Rascha."
Now it was his turn to be confused, a priestess assassin?
"Hang on, you are a priestess? But also an assassin?"
"Is there something wrong with you beyond your supposed memory loss, that is what I said you slow witted bumpkin."
Her insult brought a smile to his face.
"So what? Your a priestess during the day, assassin at night?"
She fixed him with a look that you would use when studying a particularly disgusting insect.
"The Assassin's Guild is a branch of the Temple of Rascha, the Goddess of Death, Vengeance and Torture."
"Well that’s a nice combination...."
She spat at him.
"BLASPHEMER! KILL ME OR RELEASE ME BUT DO NOT INSULT THE...."
She was cut off as Paxen clamped his hand over her mouth to silence her, as she was shouting fairly loudly.
"Now quiet down or..."
He was in turn cut of as she bit down on his hand hard and he jumped back in surprise. He examined his hand, the wound was deep but no flesh had come away with the bite. Looking back at her he saw a trickle of blood running down her cheek.

"That was not nice. Not nice at all."
He said this as he wrapped some bandage he had taken from his pack over the wound. Closing his hand into a fist he found that it was painful but fortunately not that hard.
"I do not care, just kill me or let me kill you!"
"Now why would you want to kill me?"
"Because it is what I was told to do."
"Do you know why?"
"No I am not told until the job is done, a person of my rank is not privileged to such information."
"And what rank would that be?"
"I am... why am I ANSWERING YOUR QUESTIONS?" she started shouting again.
"THANKS TO YOU IT WON'T MATTER AS TO FAIL THE INTIATION KILL IS TO EITHER DIE IN THE ATTEMPT OR BE KILLED BY THE OTHERS"

This time he gagged her. As she flopped around on the ground shouting pointlessly into her gag Paxen returned to where he had been when this all started, sitting on the floor.
"Now if you don't mind I am going to rest for an hour or so until daybreak, we can resume our chat then. Maybe you will be more co-operative"
Going by the look in her eyes and her increased flopping she did not like the idea at all. Paxen closed his eyes and entered a regenerative trance...

... Allison continued flopping for a moment before releasing she wasn't going anywhere, and that her target no longer cared, as he seemed to be asleep. Closing her eyes she cast her mind back hoping to see where she had failed. She hadn't even picked up his name, as this thought struck her she realised how naive she had been about the whole process. All she saw was the surface and that’s all she had searched for.

Maybe had she looked deeper, maybe if she had paid more attention to her training and not her ego she would not be in this mess. What am I thinking!, even her mentors had been secretly jealous of her. She was Allison Edge, the perfectionist. If only most of them knew, she had gone through a great deal to get to this point. It had been her ambition to get to this point in her training, and past it before her eighteenth birthday. She had endured then mockery of her peers and the distain of a good deal of her mentors.

It was her heritage that set her apart, those obvious uncoverable signs that was her hair and her eyes. It was odd, beyond the streaked hair and the cat-like eyes she was human in overall appearance. Strangely enough she flaunted both with a certain pride. Not only was she almost unique but it also kept away most of the others, ensuring that she never had any friends that might learn her secret.

She was Sagnir on her fathers side, a fallen race some said. A people whose very existence was an affront to the Gods, and who could blame them. The Sagnir were the descendants of the Pillagers of Esir, the people that had brought about years of terror and darkness. Even now most of them had the uncontrollable urge to rape and kill, steal and cheat all the time. They were a race that embodied everything that was wrong about.... everything.

Her mother was just a box standard human, with no special heritage at all. About seven Sagnir men cornered her, and the rest was pretty straightforward. The men were not the worst however; it was the women that really made things bad. Afterward she was taken into a camp, if she showed signs of pregnancy she would be worked to the bone. When the child came it would be killed, by wrapping the umbilical cord around its neck and squeezing, hard. If not she would be throw in among the boys who were coming of age so they could sate their thirst, afterward she would be killed by the eldest girls so that they could understand their sacred duty to their people.

Somehow her mother had escaped, she met a kind farmer who took her in and eventually came to love her. It was because of this love that Allison's life was hell; he turned a blind eye as her mother repeatedly beat her in her uncontrollable rages. She would be starved often for days on end. Then let out of the Hole, as the dirty and damp cellar under the farmhouse was called, only to find she would have to fend for herself. She would go to the city, and almost instantly recognised for what she was. Even there she would have to work hard not to get on the wrong side of some drunk out for a bit of fun, most people thought she was only getting what she deserved and those that didn't just looked the other way.

It was during one of these starvations that her mother left, and then her father came and near beat her to death. Afterward she managed to get some respite. Her father seemed not to care much as long as she kept out of sight. She was getting ready to run away when things took a turn for the worst; her father took a shining to her in a non-fatherly way. She knew what was going on, she was hardly some sheltered fool. She tried to fight but that only made it worse, she finally snapped when her father came home drunk and in a particularly aroused state. He was not alone.

She could hear him downstairs bragging about what they could do to the 'half-breed'. When he came upstairs she was waiting, she jammed a butcher knife right up his backside. The others heard his shouts of agony and rushed up the stairs, one by one they were all killed. By ten she already had seven deaths on her hands, it was then that she had a vision. Or what she thought was a vision. It told her nothing more than the fact that she had a mission, and that mission started at a Temple of Rascha.

She went to the nearest Temple, a journey that took almost a year, and they administered the Test to decide which way she would serve the Goddess or if she would at all. The Test was of a magical nature and she thought she may be turned away right there and then. However when they told her to wait as they deliberated, Allison knew what the answer would be. Even though they were aware of her heritage, a Temple could never turn away anyone who passed the Test. But they could easily be discharged later if they were not up to expectations. But she outperformed everyone.

She was almost always given the hardest tasks, the most difficult assignments but she always passed with flying colours. By fourteen she had managed to make some allies, mostly among the Mentors however. She had learned to watch for those that displayed a tendency to give her a modicum of respect or admiration. She had also learned that among the Sister's of Rascha there were few secrets, but those that were there could be exploited. She found out which mentors had desires for other women. While it was hardly a total secret she made herself available, and in turn gleaned favours from them. Others had darker secrets, and she exploited them at every turn.

Her sixth year with the Sister's was the hardest. As by some fluke another student discovered her past, and it was necessary for a potential member of the Guild to be pure. No killing before admission. The test was supposed to detect it, but she had passed. And she was so close to achieving her dream, so she did what had to be done. She killed the student in question and then covered it up by implicating one of her rivals among the other students. It almost didn't work, only a great deal of stealth and skill on her part got her through the year.

Now here she was lying on the floor unable to move with her target just a few feet away. All that she had done was in vain, her mother would be laughing in glee. She opened her eyes to find another pair less than an inch away, by reflex she kicked out. And amazingly got her target right in groin...

... Paxen rolled away and quickly leapt up.
"Whoa, whoa lets just both sit down and talk."
The assassin was now glaring at him. He sat down on a small stool. She continued glaring for a moment then sat on the bed.

"Now can we talk without the shouting?"
"Yes, but I still fail to see why we should talk at all."
"That remains to be seen, let’s start by introducing ourselves. My name is Paxen Shadow, and beyond that I have almost no idea who or what I am."
"Shadow? That must get an enthusiastic response from certain people."
"Enthusiastic is one way to describe it."
"My name is Allison Edge, and I don't feel you merit any information about me beyond that."
"Whatever floats your boat."

There were a few minutes of silence before Paxen spoke up again.
"You looked as though you were having quite the reminisce."
"If I was it would be no business of yours."
"Look I will be straight with you, I have little or no idea how things work nowadays. I need a guide of sorts. Now I realise you may not be the best choice, but I feel as though I can trust you."
"Trust me? You will be dead before midday."
"I have lasted this far."
"It would not matter anyway, for even if I were to act as your guide, I will be dead long before midday."
"The other Sister's?"
"Yes."

Paxen pulled her long dagger from his pack and tossed it to her. She caught it nimbly and quickly sheathed it. She stood a walked to the door.
"It would do you well to leave now Paxen, as skilled as you may be they will now send a master to kill you. And I doubt you will survive such an encounter."
She left without a backwards glance. Paxen was just getting ready to leave when the door crashed open, and before he could react he was tossed to the ground.
"WHAT DID YOU DO?"
She was shouting again.
"I have no idea what you’re talking about!"
"THIS!"
She shoved the pommel of her dagger in front of his face; it had changed. It was still the same design but there were now glyphs inscribed on it.
"They weren't there before."
"NO THEY WEREN'T, NOT WHAT DID YOU."

Shifting his weight swiftly he rolled her onto her back while he lay on top of her pinning her down.
"Stop shouting."
She looked as though she may have continued but instead she resumed her glaring. Her got up and offered her a hand, which she batted away. She jumped up from the floor and once again sat on the bed.
"What did you do to it?" she asked.
"Nothing, honestly."
"So you didn't put these glyphs on it? I am not stupid you know, I recognise what there glyphs are."
"What are they?"
"They are the written language of the God's, nobody has been able to read it for years."
"Really? Because I understand them."

Before he could do anything she moved across the room rested the edge of her blade along his neck.
"Then what do they say."
"Just one thing, Xiedhra."
"What does that mean, and I want a straight answer."
She pressed the blade against his neck a little bit harder.
"Seeker."
"Is that all?"
"Yes, does it mean anything to you?"
"No it doesn't, but…"

She was cut off as Paxen pressed his fingers to her lips. He mouthed for her to be silent...

... it took Allison a moment before she realised what was wrong. There was no sound to be heard bar their breathing and the steady drumming or the rain. There was a creak outside and then she was suddenly flying backwards. She landed on the bed, it took her a moment to realise that Paxen has kicked her out of the way. The reason became obvious when she spied the hole in the wall made by a crossbow bolt.

Paxen rose silently and rolled forward as a pair of sword broke through the wall right behind where he had been. She leapt off the bed just as a black-garbed figure came through the door, and with a vicious slash of her weapon killed the assailant. She heard the sound of glass smashing behind her but could not risk turning to investigate as another assailant came through the door.

The entire fight lasted about five seconds and there was very little thought involved. When Allison disposed with her adversary she turned to see Paxen still engaged with two attackers, she was about to intervene when in a single smooth slash he cut past both their guards and killed them. A sudden burning pain shot through her arm, sitting down on the bed she felt light headed. Paxen came over and examined the wound.
"Its deep, can you move your arm?"
She could, but the pain was excruciating.
"This needs to be stitched, but for now I will stop the bleeding we need to get out of here and fast."
He reached into his pack and withdrew a roll of bandages. With his knife he cut away her tunic and examined the wound again. He walked to the foot of the bed a brought up a pot of fresh water. Within seconds steam was rising from it, he tore away a piece of the bedclothes to use as a cloth and then dipped it into the water. He wiped away most of the blood around the wound.

"This is going to sting, badly."
He took a small bottle from his pack and poured a tiny amount of the liquid onto his forefinger, then rubbed it over the wound. The pain she experienced at that moment far exceeded anything she had ever felt previously, it was as if her blood has turned to fire. Paxen wrapped a bandage tightly around the wound.

"Come on, we must move fast."
"What was that you put in the wound?"
"It called Dragons Oil, it’s a powerful alcoholic beverage. But it also has excellent use as an ointment of sorts, it helps the healing process too."
"Really, Dragons Oil? Can I have a taste, later."
"There is a reason it’s a forbidden drink, but maybe later. For now follow."
Paxen tossed on a large concealing brown cloak that looked as though it had seen one to many wet and muddy trails, it did however have a hood that almost totally concealed his face. They quickly walked through the eerily silent corridor, occasionally she would see what looked like body in one of the rooms, but she did not stop to investigate.

Paxen was staying in one of the more respectable inns in this city; it was located just outside the inner city wall. When they got to common room they saw no fewer than fourteen dead bodies, Paxen knelt and examined one.
"Poison, something powerful because he never even knew he was dying."
Allison spied a large black cloak with a hood that would conceal her injury nicely. As she walked towards it Paxen spoke up.
"You had better find something to cover yourself with."
"What do you thin I am doing, going for a stroll?" she responded irritably
"I don't know."
"Anyway once we get to where I am staying we can go our separate ways."
"I think not."
"What did you say?"
"I said, I think we are going to have to stick together like it or not."
"Why?"
"How do you think your friends got here so fast, they were waiting for you to fail. Most likely there is one watching this inn right now and the also know where you are staying."
"But..."
"No time for those we are going to have to stick together."

She stood rooted to the spot, the expected her to fail. What did that mean? Why would they want that?

Paxen walked passed and tossed the cloak at her, swinging it on she walked to the door.
"But wait, you said they will be someone watching this place?
"Yes."
"So shouldn't we leave by the back entrance."
"No, I want them to know we are still alive and that we left the building."
"That makes no sense."
"You will see, now let go, Seeker."

He opened to door a mockingly bowed her through. She shot him a look of distain and then stepped outside.

(I am just experimenting with the whole switching vantage point thing. Also please critique.)