Rulick was still kind of bored, and still pretending to be asleep. He knew it wouldn't be long until at least one bandit came through the lines of other knights and up to him, but WERE experienced soldiers, so maybe a bit of a delay was to be expected. Then he heard some rustling off near the edge of the fire light, and immediately his attention was drawn off in that direction, as he could hear someone bragging about what they'd just seen.

"Hey, boys, look at this. A guy sleeping in front of a crapload of stuff. Are we lucky or what." Sure enough, it was a bunch of bandits, and this bunch seemed to be full of themselves now that they'd seen Rulick 'sleeping'. If Rulick weren't trying to trick them, he would have been smiling from ear to ear.

As the group neared wagon, he could hear them chattering recklessly, another mistake. Judging from how many footsteps he heard, however, it would be so easy considering he didn't have any kind of weapon. That didn't mean he wouldn't be able to do anything though, it would just take longer than normal. With one of the bandits going up the edge of the wagon, Rulick prepared to act fast.

"Holy shit, what the hell do these peo-" the bandit murmured as he looked inside the back, but he was cut off as a once inactive knight suddenly kicked out, sweeping him off his feet. With the man's feet going up and Rulick's momentum keeping him going, Rulick collapsed and kicked a foot into the man's ankle, making it collide with the floor of the wagon. A loud crack made it obvious that Rulick kicked hard enough to break his ankle. Quickly getting up, Rulick looked around as the man at his feet screamed in pain.

"What the hell?! Get him boys!" the apparent leader shouted as he charged forward along with four other bandits. The first came in with an axe, getting close and trying to chop down on Rulcik. He was stopped dead in his tracks, winded by a foot crashing into his chest. Dropping his weapon, the man gasped for air as Rulick quickly follwed through with a punch to the temple, knocking the man out.

Another bandit shouted as he tried to chop down with a sword on his target, but Rulick neatly sidestepped it and tripped the sloppy advance. The man's sword was grabbed from his hands by Rulick as he fell, and then the sword came down into the man's back. This time Rulick charged, parrying a blow from one bandit and sliding his sword down the blade, carrying the swing up into his chest, his sword getting imbedded in there. Leaving it in the body of the man, Rulick collapsed as another man with an axe ran up with a horizontal swing. Getting up low, Rulcik leaped forward and tackled the bandit, who quickly threw the knight off of him. Standing up, he realized he'd been disarmed in the fall, but smirked as he saw another bandit coming up behind Rulick. Seeing this smirk, the knight ducked the blow, but not before the bandit leader came up behind him and grabbed him, flattening him onto the ground after that.

"You're not just some normal guy are you?" the leader asked over the screams of pain the man the broken ankle was letting out.

"Yeah, and you really don't know what you're doing, do you?" Rulick retorted as he saw the man's right hand was covering his left forearm, right where Rulick's Pain Blade would come out. Smirking, Rulick just had to say something. "Tell the demons that I sent you there once you get to Hell."

"What the hell do you mean by thaaaAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" The lead bandit screamed in pain as a large blade cut a huge gash into his hand. Bringing his hand up in pain, he was quickly cut across the throat by the same blade. The two remaining bandits were so surprised, it gave Rulick enough time to shove the gurgling body of the dying leader off his body and then charge the closest one.

The man tried to block seeing Rulick bring his hand up, but Rulick's feint worked as he lowered into a jab into the bandit's gut. With only one more remaining bandit, Rulick quickly charged the man, hit down onto his weapon, punched him when he was blocking, and quickly stabbed into his head with the blade on his arm.

"What the hell are you, you FREAK!" the man with the broken ankle screamed, looking at Rulick with wide eyes, fearful of death. He'd managed to get up, and was clinging to his weapon with his remaining strength.

"I'm a freak, just like you said," Rulick said to him coldly as he waited for the swing from the axe to come, and just grabbed the handle with his right hand as it came down weakly. With a quick swing, the last bandit fell to the ground minus a head. With one bandit knocked out, Rulick quickly let the Pain Blade go back into his arm and started to gather up rope to tie him down until the morning, when he would probably be judged by those of the circus.

"Hey! Look, an old geezer!"

A bandit came forward and knocked Kal to the ground roughly. Kal moaned and feighned crying. Another two bandits came to aid in this activity. Then one called out, "Hey! Maybe he's got something of value we can snag. This bitch won't care."

The initial bandit chuckled and stepped towards Kal again. There was a shnicking sound, and Kal rolled around the man, coming up in a crouch. The man behind him collapsed. The Hands of God had the shivs extended.

Kal glared at the two standing bandits. "I only cut his achilles tendon. He'll live. But you...you should all be ashamed, beating and robbing an old man..."

Kal bolted forward, and gave a small kick off with his left foot while his right found purchase on the bandit's chest. Then his left hit the bandit's shoulder and was used to toss Kal into the air. In effect, Kal just ran up the bandit's front. Still in the air, Kal twisted twice before landing in a crouch and slashing the blades quickly in a scissor motion.

The bandit collapsed, folding over from a cut that went halfway through him right behind his ribs, and neatly avoiding the vertebrae. Kal glanced at the remaining bandit, dodged the lazy punch, and slammed his right fist into the bandit's throat. With a splattering sound, the blade punctured the jugular. Quickly, Kal twisted and hunkered down.

Handilly, the initial spray of blood missed him, and the body came down on Kal who pushed it aside. With a shnick the blades retracted and Kal grabbed the remaining living bandit to take back to the camp.

The actual fighting part of the skirmish had lasted only a little below 5 seconds. Quick and clean. That was all Kal fought.

The large swordsman strutted towards Nathaniel, a kama already imbedded into his chest. His eyes were full of bloodlust, and it was obvious it would take more than a blade in the chest to take him down.

From above, Thomas took a jump from the top of a tent, his hooded cloak billowing out behind him. Raven and Dove were drawn and ready.

Thomas landed hard on the man's shoulders, surprising the behemoth. The man reached up with his large hands, but both were slashed away by Thomas's twin swords. The man screamed in pain as his palms came back bloody.

Thomas took the hesitation the strike. He rose both of his swords into the air, the blades pointing down. He thrusted, and both blades pierced the skin and entered the body.

Sadly, Thomas had greatly underestimated the constitution of this man's physique. With both swords still stuck in his body, he reached up again and managed to put a vice grip on Thomas's ankles. With a twist and a throw, he flung Thomas from his perch. As he was flying in the air, Thomas managed to grab Dove, and pull it from the man's body. Raven, however, was still where it had been stuck.

Thomas hit the ground, hard. He salvaged the landing with a roll, and came back to attention with Dove at the ready. The large swordsman smiled with his crooked teeth. Thomas smiled back.

He whistled into the air. With a screech, Samuel darted out of the night sky, clawing and pecking at the giant's eyes. He screamed in pain, and swatted crazily at Samuel with his large sword.

It was enough of a distraction. Thomas flipped Dove, now holding it almost like a javelin. With a strong throw, Dove soared through the still night and struck the man in the throat, piercing through the other side. The man gave a few gurgling sounds, and dribbles of blood poured from the sides of his mouth. With a limp movement, he dropped to the ground. Thomas walked over, and pulled Raven from the still body.

A group of the bandits had stolen into the encampment while the others were occupied with their fellows, and as they threw open the flap to a large tent, their leader, a man with ratlike features, chuckled as he saw the camp followers settling in to dinner, with their valuables piled in one side of the tent for safe-keeping.

The look was still fresh on their faces when Kratos' hulking frame filled the threshold, a haunch of meat in his hands. Silhouetted by the lanterns inside the tent, he loomed before them like an obsidian colossus. It was little wonder that one of his sobriquets was the Ebon Dragon.

"So! You are bandits, are you not?"

If they could speak, they didn't. It would probably have been more accurate to say that they couldn't.

"I guess my idea of protecting the civilians was a good one, after all. The other knights will do a good enough job of hunting the rest of you down. I will not begrudge them their quarry - after all, I drew the short straw for babysitting duty. Of course, since the nine of you have delivered yourselves to me, I shall welcome you with all the hospitality you deserve.

He grinned in the way only a madman or a predatory animal could.

"Excellent."

As he strode out towards them, a bulky man rose from the table and started toward the door. His wife stood and said, "Sven, what are you doing?"

"Closing the flap."

"But why?"

"I've spoken to him... trust me, you don't want the kids to see this."

Sven pulled the canvas down over the opening. He returned to the table, his face pale, and tried to force himself to eat the tasteless veal. One of the kids, a fresh-faced girl of seven, locked her sea-blue eyes on him and asked in her lilting voice, "Uncle Sven, what is Uncle Kratos doing?"

Sven froze, the meat halfway to his mouth, and affected a smile.

"W... why, he's... um... explaining something to them, Rosalie."

"What, Uncle Sven?"

A brief scream was choked off, followed by a series of wet, meaty thuds. and the sound of blades stabbing into flesh.

"Well, he's telling them why they shouldn't interrupt us while we're having dinner... so eat up, kids."

"But those men... they looked like they were carrying swords, like Uncle Lugosh! Is it safe?"

Alcham Lugosh, the sword-swallower, shrugged and replied, "Oh, don't worry, kids. Those swords were probably fake."

"Like YOUR swords, Uncle Lugosh?"

The man flushed crimson, and Sven's wife spoke up.

"Georgiy! For shame! Such things are not meant to be said at the dinner table!"

A cry of terror was accompanied by the pat-pat-pat of feet, It was shortly followed by the low whistle of steel whirling through the air, and a ripe, organic smack as something was split apart, then another thud, just outside the tent. The overweight circus physician, Elric Sawbones, blanched at the sound. He pushed away his mostly untouched plate of veal.

"What's wrong, Elric?"

Elric mopped his brow with a handkerchief.

"Nothing, Sven, nothing. Just lost my appetite, is all."

Suddenly, the flap flew open, and the women nearly jumped in their seats. It was the bandit leader, covered in blood. His eyes were wide and crazed with terror, and he held his surprisingly clean scimitar up.

"You! You can call him off! Make him stop! MAKE HIM STOP!"

A pair of bloodied hands appeared from under the tent flap, and the rat-faced man screamed like a girl on her wedding night, dropping his scimitar and clawing frantically at the grass before he disappeared under the canvas. The screaming was quickly replaced by a series of meaty thwucks, accompanied by sickening cracks, and eventually, a refrain of wet, pulping sounds.

Then all was silent.

From outside, the low voice of Kratos boomed.

"Sven, I apologize for not being able to join you for dinner. As it is, I shall have to spend the rest of the night clearing up the area outside the tent. I also suggest you do not let the children leave until I'm done. "

A small puddle of red spread under the canvas walls, glowing like treacly wine in the lantern light.

"I hope I didn't spoil your dinner."

"Why would a man that strong be with a group of bandits?" Nathaniel asked out loud as he walked over to the body of the large man.

As Nathaniel bent over to retrieve his kama from the man's chest, he froze. The man was an Englasian. "Well, that explains it."

Thomas gave Nathaniel a questioning look.

"It's an Englasian." Nathaniel said, pointing to the body. "No wonder he took so much before he fell. Probably a rogue left over from the invasion. Fell in with the bandits because they were the only group of people that would accept him after the invasion."

Nathaniel took his kama out of the Englasians chest, and wiped off both of them on the dead man's clothing. "I had hoped never to see one again, even dead."

Thomas wiped the blood off of Dove and Raven.

"It is strange. And why would they by attacking the circus in such large numbers? This isn't just a normal raid we're talking about."

What have we here? thought Adin. The thief was carrying a small totem that looked like a dragon. He'd never seen one before, but he'd recieved a description from one of his spies: the entry pass to Incrad.

As the thief discovered the dead bandits, Adin was running out of time to think. His mind raced; if the thief decided to run, Adin would have to catch him. Why was he here? No self-respecting thief would work with common bandits, to get them into Incrad. That meant he was using them as a distraction, maybe planned on killing them himself. No one would know how many bandits there were, so no matter how many were killed, when the totem was discovered missing, the circus would assume a bandit had taken it. The thief wouldn't even have to leave the circus; at least, not yet.

But what really made Adin wonder, was why the totem? The only reason a thief would need it was if he couldn't get in alone, and a thief that good should be able to, according to his spies. But that information was almost a month old. This could mean only one thing; security in Incrad was far worse than Adin could have imagined.

There was only one way to find out. The thief had not been upset over the bandits, nor had he left, but was inspecting the bodies. Adin was just about to stand and confront him, when the thief called softly, "Arlen, is that you?"

At hearing his father's name, Adin was so startled he gasped aloud. Almost as fast as Adin himself the thief had a dagger flying at Adin's head. Startled or no, Adin wasn't a Knight for nothing; he rolled to the side and caught the dagger as it flew past. "Wait, I'm a friend. How do you know Arlen?" he whispered.

Coming over, the thief crouched down. "I've only seen one person who could do that, and that's Arlen. But I've heard stories about another, a man even better with knives than the thief-god himself. You must be Adin.

"I guess I'd better explain. My name is Pilo. You remember that during the war a year ago, some of the thieves wanted to help the king as spies, rather than soldiers, as you did. Your father formed the group, the Shadoweyes, and I joined up. After the war, the group stayed together, led by Arlen, but since a lot of thieves had died, I became second in command.

"The rest of the story you probably already know from your spies." At Adin's guarded look, Pilo chuckled. "Don't worry, we haven't infiltrated your network, but you are Arlen's son, after all.

"Here's what you may not know. About three months ago Roland cut all ties with Arlen, just stopped responding to messages. Security had been tight, but now the Shadoweyes were refused entrance to Incrad, and a month later, all known members inside were killed. Now, even Arlen himself can't sneak in, so he asked me to infiltrate the circus and steal this. As cover, he paid the bandits to attack the circus, but let me get the totem and they could keep the rest. When they left the circus, we were going to ambush them, then enter the capital ourselves."

"Well," said Adin, "it says a lot for you that Father thinks highly of you. But I need the totem for my own reasons. Is Arlen nearby? I need to talk to him, but first I'd better tell Thomas about this. Wait here."

Waiting just long enough for Pilo to nod, Adin took the totem and glided back into camp to find Thomas. He found him, Nathaniel, and Cecilia cleaning up after some bandits, including, he noted absently, an Englasian. "Thomas, we must talk." Adin filled the three knights in on what Pilo had told him, adding, "I need to go talk to my father about this. I'll leave it to you to tell the others, I should be back before morning." Handing the totem to Thomas, Adin left to meet Pilo, and then, his father.

Thomas took the totem from Adin, but didn't have time to say anything before the thief ran off into the shadows.

There was a loud thumping sound behind the small group. Thomas turned, the totem in one hand and Raven in the other. When he saw who it was, he sheathed his sword.

It was Callos, jogging towards Thomas. A large broadaxe was positioned on his shoulder, covered in blood. Callos was smiling.

"Bandits are nuthin'. Simply a fun event at night."

Callos looked at the totem Thomas was holding, and quit smiling.

"What are ye' doin' with the Totem?"

"This is what the bandits were after. Apparently, they only wanted this pass. Don't worry, we saved it."

"I'll walk around the camp, make sure everyone is alright." Nathaniel said, and then he walked away.

As Nathaniel walked the camp, the only true signs of what had taken place was the bodies of the bandits, killed by any variety of means. It was a testament of the Knight's skill that only now that the battle was over that the residents of the circus had found out what had happened. Morris came out of the stables, a rusted mace in hand.

"Will! I heard that we were attacked by Englasians!" Morris yelled, swing his mace about as if he meant to take on an Englasian right there.

"There was an Englasian among them, Morris, but it was a rogue who had fallen in with the bandits. It matters not, they are dead, or driven off."

Morris slid to a stop. "You fought them?"

Nathaniel shrugged. "I would hardly call it a fight. I noticed a few walking around when I was going to sleep. With a troupe the size of the one I travel with, one must know how to fight to survive. Throwing kamas was a skill I picked up when I was younger, a way to keep myself amused during harvest...even though it has other, less savory uses as well. A few lucky throws, and I fell a handful of bandits. The guards put up a brave fight before they fell, most of the bandits were already slain before they got inside the came." Nathaniel said.

Morris nodded. "Aye, they were brave lads, though foolhardy. They should of sounded the alarm when under attack instead of just fighting themselves."

"I'm sure they would of if they could of." Nathaniel said. "They must of been hard pressed. If you'll excuse me, Morris, I'm checking on the rest of my troupe for my Master."

"Of course. I'm glad you made it, Will."

The men shook hands, then Will left. Again, Will found only dead bandits and the Knights in good shape. The only time he paused was when he saw Kratos hastily cleaning the area if front of a tent, muttering something about "Not letting the children see this."

Finally, Nathaniel returned to Thomas. "All the other members of the troupe are well." Nathaniel said.

Nathaniel took a step closer, and dropped his voice to a whisper. "Something troubles me. If Pilo meant to ambush the bandits after they took the totem, why hire so many of them, including an Englasian? The barbarian himself was worth a handful of men, and there were many bandits, more than the stealing of a totem from a circus called for. Unless Pilo is hiding a good hundred men out there," Nathaniel said, pointing into the darkness, "he would of been hard pressed to take the totem from the bandits by force. I do not trust him."

Niall was coming back holding a bag that was a bit bloody carrying various hands and many vials of blood, for alchemaic uses of course. He stared at a barbarian and an eglacian he found upon the way and a wicked smile covered his face, but only for a second. Not my kill. he thought and moved on. Before heading back he said the word "Bend." and returned to the small inocent old man, even the blood was gone. He gave the body parts and jucies to Forte to carry to his personal luggage back in camp. He would need to put them in vinegar in order to keep them fresh.

As he entered the camp area he noticed alot of commotion. "Hullo what do we have here." he said regaining that odd old man voice. Hearing as much as he needed he said, "Well what can we do Adin has already left off and with my knowledge of thiefs are already on the move," he said simply, "but then again with my knowledge of thiefs Adin shouldn't trust him either, therefore if he is going away after only a small bit of direct contact with Pilos than this is either very important, the man has everything needed to prove his trustworthyness, or (and also least likly) Adin is jumping the bow a bit." he said flatly. "Also if he isn't what he seems Adin is definitly strong enough to take him."