Hopeful Alliance

With both the Port and Prison as options to help in his quest for revenge, Michael was about to head back to the inn to talk to Tiffania about his ideas. While she might not be a genius, or as unforgiven as he thought she should be, it would still help to have a second opinion.

His steps slow to a halt however as he notices a large group of guards marching back into their barracks, which sat directly next to the Military Academy. A sense of Deja vu strikes him as he remembers an old game he played called Shadow of War, specifically his poisoning of enemy forts before finally attacking them.

"Hmm." he hums as he dips into an alleyway and activates Cloak and Dagger, vanishing from sight before he starts circling around the two interconnected buildings to spot if such a plan would be doable.

In the game you'd poison barrels or cauldrons of the enemy's alcohol, but seeing as these people weren't as stupid as orcs, they neither drank nor kept many barrels easily accessible water or wine for him to poison.

What they did have, however, was a relatively large reservoir that was connected to an aqueduct that'd keep it topped up. Michael was sure the aqueducts must've been magically enchanted in some way, as there didn't seem to be any other safeguards to prevent the water from fouling...

Since the reservoir looked as if it'd been created long after Brimir's son's had died, it likely lacked the enchantments the aqueduct possessed. Though, he couldn't be sure.

If the reservoir was vulnerable, he'd need a poison that had a delayed effect. Otherwise only a couple people would actually drink it... Which meant he'd need to find someone who was willing to sell him a large quantity of potentially illegal poisons... That's not even noting the difficulty of actually finding an applicable poison to do the job, if he asked the seller about it then they'd either report him to the government or become an accomplice, the latter of which wasn't likely at all.

Michael silently heads back to his inn with some difficult decisions ahead of him. He had many options, but no 'good' ones. Starting tomorrow, there'd be three days until Prince Wales' execution, so if he wanted to strike while the loyalists were trying to rescue their prince, he'd need to come to a decision relatively soon depending on the method he wants to take.

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Elsewhere in the city :

Julien sprints through a slum alleyway as he tries to avoid his pursuers. His attempts to locate other loyalists hadn't exactly gone as expected, he'd spent two hours in a local tavern looking for anyone he knew, but since they didn't work, he'd been forced to make conversation with the locals and quietly ascertain their thoughts on Cromwell, his rule, and the original Royal Family.

This method lasted around, say, twenty minutes? When one of the men he'd tried to speak with abruptly stood up and announced to everyone his status as a Reconquista Knight. Julien sprinted out of the bar before the man could say anything else, knowing that he'd been discovered... Which led to where he was now, fleeing from around six people? He wasn't sure, he barely had the chance to look over his shoulder as he dodged, ducked, and weaved through the cluttered slum streets.

Luckily, none of the homeless seemed to like the government, especially those that sometimes obstructed his pursuers by tossing things in their way, sticking their legs out, or with one person even throwing stones before running while shouting, "Go to hell you damn dogs of Cromwell!".

With things in his favour, Julien eventually outruns the guards and loses them in the maze-like slums. Eventually stops and bends over while resting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. "Hah... Hah... Hah. Damn, I hope the others are having better like than I, otherwise our hopes are dashed." he mutters, not noticing the shadow approaching him from behind.

"Perhaps I could help?" the voice asks, causing Julien to jump in surprise as his foot slips on some faeces on the floor, he loses his footing and falls onto his side, leaving him staring up at the intruder.

"A-and who might you be?" Julien asks, only now noticing the fact that the intruder is wearing an eye patch.

"I'm someone who wishes to see the safe escape of Prince Wales. Cromwell is a villain and a fool, he must be stopped from destroying Albion!"

...

Julien slowly gets up from the floor, unsure if he should trust the words of this stranger, "How do I know if you're telling the truth? I have been fooled once today, I will not allow it twice!" he states, feeling naked due to his lack of weapons, he'd left his wand and blade hidden in a secure spot in the slums, but he didn't want to leave them for too long. They'd catch a good price if sold, and the people living here could almost smell the scent of gold.

"You cannot know, but I will prove myself with my actions." the stranger says as he lowers his hood, "I am Ralf Kaliker, I serve under Cromwell as the Commander of the Twenty-Second unit of Dragon Knights." he holds a hand up at Julien's angry expression, "Hold your anger, I do not wish to serve Cromwell any longer. My oaths were made to the people of Albion, not to some mad despot who'd see us all bound in chains beneath him. I do not expect you to trust me, but to you, I present the perfect opportunity to strike out at Cromwell, as well as save your Prince.

Tell me, Sir Julien, do you believe that you will succeed in saving Prince Wales without my assistance? Will your honour allow you to dismiss me if there is even a chance that my words are true?"

...

Julien thinks for a moment before shaking his head, "No. It would not." he lowers his head, "If you are true to your words, then I will call you my comrade..." he says before his face scrunched into an expression of anger and rage, "But if you betray me, I will abandon everything to repay you."

Ralf nods, and holds out his hand, "Then we have an accord?"

Julien shakes it, "I dearly hope so."