Kerberos

Fog rolled into the town of Daitan at noon, inconveniencing the townsfolk and travelers alike in forcing them to traverse its haze. For obvious reasons, travelers had the shorter end of that particular stick, lacking the residents' familiarity of the streets. Among those newcomers to town, a meager four armed Olstrom soldiers advaced along the sidewalk, the footfalls of their jackboots echoing through the fog. At their center was an officer proudly wearing his decorations, a Captain's insignia among them.

From the rooftops above, Agnethe followed along with the contingent, quietly crawling along on all fours as a cat would. Her vision was keen enough to maintain a lock on the group despite the fog and maintain a safe but comfortably close distance. Meanwhile, Maire weaved through the alleyways and stayed ahead of their path; she'd been to Daitan a couple times before and had a grasp of the layout.

For both girls, the mission briefing still hung freshly in their minds...

"Daitan is a small town situated less than a mile from the southern borders of Olstrom," detailed Ciara to her two warriors, the three of them arranged in the sitting room with Cerise. "Its strengths lies in its commerce and in the even hand of its governor; he's more sympathetic to the well-being of his people than he is to the reigning regime."

"Ain't that a classic tale... So what's so special about us going there?" questioned Maire, hanging out in her chair upside down, legs hooked to the top of the seat to keep her suspended.

The ex-general folded her hands in her lap, elaborating. "We've received intel that one of my former peers, one Captain Amalric, has been sent to Daitan. The official reason is to oversee the local garrison's training and observe commerce in action. In reality, his goal is to coerce the governor into shifting his focus onto the garrison; most likely, Olstrom is considering another unprovoked southern advance."

Cerise scratched her eyebrow, commenting, "There's hardly a better way to prepare for a tyrannical march than to prep the benevolent town's soldiers. Maire's right: this really is out of fiction."

"It's not the type of story you'd expect in reality, is it?" Ciara chuckled. "Regardless, I'm sending you two -" she looked to Maire and Agnethe as she carried on, "- to eliminate him. You're to move out immediately, and meet a plainclothes agent to learn what you can about the Captain's routine. The time and place is in your hands, just make sure you're not caught and leave no traceable evidence."

She paused for a moment, as if remembering something. "The Captain had a habit of keeping a personal unit of handpicked soldiers with him outside of his quarters. If you run into them, be creative."

True to the agent's report, Agnethe watched Captain Amalric and his entourage making their way to a particularly narrow street. The spearwoman chanced getting closer, taking full advantage of the weather. From her observations, it would take them three minutes to clear this street, and they were the only five individuals within; if the agent was correct, this street was rarely frequented due to being a popular area for muggings. Maire inched her way up the alleyway that they were beginning to pass, her hand resting on a battleaxe. Though her intellect was questionable, she had the wisdom and experience to know that bringing a smaller weapon to a more narrow space was the way to go.

One minute into their march through the street, Agnethe leapt down from the roof to the fore of the procession, landing silently in the fog. She waited, timing her action out carefully before stepping forward and throwing a previously unseen knife into the unknown as her free hand reached behind her back. Hearing the meaty puncturing of human flesh silencing what would've been an ear-splitting yell of pain, she confirmed her kill and brought out a short-hafted spear, waited carefully for the sound and sight of the soldier's body pitching forward to the ground, then stepped atop his head and gazed upon the remaining three troopers and their Captain.

"Wh-who the h--" The next man in line was cut off as his temple was swiftly slammed by the shortspear's butt, the former officer withdrawing it before taking a lunging step forward and palm-heeling the unconscious trooper into Amalric and bowling him over. The two soldiers behind him reached for the swords at their hips before Maire's axe split the rearmost man's skull down the middle. His companion distinctly identified the sound of bone and grey matter being cleaved and turned around, only to find Maire already advancing on him and swinging wide, taking his arm off at the elbow before he could defend himself. She stepped forward and slashed through his neck, cutting off the shocked scream about a second in. That much sound would be allowed, for it would have a much-desired lure effect. All according to plan.

Amalric lay pinned beneath the knocked out soldier Agnethe had pushed into him, quite visibly panicking, even through the fog. He reached for the pistol on his hip before Maire stomped his heel onto his wrist, prompting a yelp and foiling his attempt. The huntress kept her posture, lowering her axe blade down near the Captain's head as her comrade-in-arms relieved the unconscious man atop him of his sword, taking it into her free gloved hand. Wordlessly, she turned and drove it down into Amalric's forehead.

"D'you think that'll be enough?" questioned Maire curiously. By now, the two of them had retreated from Daitan and were close to the car they'd hidden further off, the huntress cleaning her axe blade as they went along.

"I believe so," Agnethe confirmed, nodding as she too cleaned her knife. The 'crime scene' flashed through her mind as she pondered the evidence. "The evidence will show that one of Captain Amalric's accomplices drew his sword and attacked both him and his fellow troops. Maire's skull wound will be attributed to either a feat of strength or, more likely, to a vagabond ally. The severed arm and beheading are more than viable sword wounds, and it is well known that Olstrom soldiers are required to carry a standard-issue knife in the event of close-quarters combat, making my thrown kill a simple conclusion. The garrison and authorities will focus on determining what happened and prosecuting the soldier clearly responsible for the murder, taking valuable time away from prepping for a southern march." These things were not unfamiliar to Agnethe, as she'd been in the Olstrom army for enough years to have a clear idea of what would happen.

As the spearwoman put her knife away, Maire shrugged and accepted her confidence. "That's that, then. You wanna drive or ride shotgun?"

"I'll drive. Feel free to nap," Agnethe quipped, much to her comrade's grinning satisfaction.