It was a dark night. Well, of course it is, Velani scoffed as he stood in the doorway to the house he grew up in, staring out into the streets. He didn't know the last time a night had ever been bright. He wrung his hands slightly, his heavy horns resting on the wall. He'd been on his own for almost a year now, but it still seemed like only yesterday that he came home to his "father" dead on the floor. Multiple dents in his carapace covered cranium where a pipe would fit perfectly. He wasn't sure why, but when he thought back on the wounds, a strangers face popped into his mind. He had no idea who's face it was, but when he looked at her, he felt fear, and pain. But the one emotion that rose up over that was anger. Fury, one that made the highbloods prancing the streets anger towards their opponents look like unbridled joy.

He shook his head, his knuckles white as he almost got lost in his anger. He didn't want to do that. He was afraid that if he did, he's lapse back into one of his spells. Turning he grabbed the harness that hung from the ceiling and fixed his horns into it. He was going to be home for a while. At least until his customers arrived, and his neck was feeling sore. Once his horns were fixed he tightened pulled the rope to the harness down, unlocking it, then let it release. Sometimes, he felt like an animal with a retractable leash, but it was worth the embarrassment when it came to relieving the pressure on his neck.

He sat on the sofa, the leash like harness stretching down with him but keeping enough tension on his horns. He never really had to worry about the pull being too harsh, his horns were heavy enough to pull it down without any problem. Grabbing his glass off of the end stand beside him, he reached back with one hand and undid the neckbrace. The rush of cool air to his more-often-than-not concealed flesh felt good, and with the same hand he rubbed his bruising jaw, bringing his beverage to his lips. He didn't like where his life had ended up. Sitting in a darkened house, brutally alert to any and all exits and entrances. For all he knew, no one on Derse knew his blood color, and donning the cerulean gemstone on his neckbrace was convincing enough to fool some of the lowbloods into believing his charade.

"You're a filthy lowblood." He stopped, his drink pressed in between his lips as a voice buzzed in the back of his head.

"I don't need your problems right now." He whispered.

"I'll come out eventually peasant, mark my words. It hissed, then faded away.


"Words marked." He swallowed hard. He felt his head swell a bit, then for a second, he stared off into space, zoning out. A knock on the door snapped him out of his trance. His head snapped up, his eyes finding a clock. He had been out of it for almost 40 minutes. Growling silently he grabbed his neckbrace and snapped it on. Pulling himself off of the couch he reached up, grabbing the harness, he undid it and made his way for the door.

Grabbing the doorknob he pulled it open. On the other side were five younger trolls and a Carapace. Possibly their caretaker. She looked at him terrified, her arm around the youngest one who seemed to be around his age. "Please help us." She whimpered. Velani stared at her, his face blank. He carefully grabbed a note out of one of the folds of his tunic. With a quick flash of his eyes he looked down at his hands. He had rehearsed this part a million different times. She looked down at his hand as well and spotted the piece of paper, but didn't let her eyes linger too long. Looking back up her eyes connected with his once more, and very bluntly gave his reply.

"No." Turning he stepped back in through the door and shut it behind him. The trolls with the Carapace gasped and started murmuring, one of the lower bloods began crying, feeling doomed. But the Carapace spotted that tucked in between the door frame and the door was the note he had looked at. Carefully she reached forward and removed it, looking at it.

"Come on, we'll find our own way out." She muttered, then grabbed the distraught trolls, heading down the street before turning off through to a back alley.

Inside Velani watched the note eagerly, hoping that she would see it. When it vanished he turned and made his way to a closet. Pulling the door open he pushed a few boxes aside. They were all of his guardians belongings. He felt that there was no need to keep them laying around, not when they could serve a purpose. Bending down he slipped his fingers into a couple natural looking divots and hoisted a trap door up. Since his guardian was murdered, he had riddled the house with countless escape routes. It would be almost impossible to find them all. Each room had at least 2 secret ways to get out.

Pulling the door open he carefully slipped down inside and shut the door again. He turned and looked around. He was in a small tunnel he built himself -well...mostly himself. Because it was risky to have the tunnels travel throughout the entire moon, -it would be ridiculous as well and no doubt time consuming- he made it so that it lead from his home to a safe house. Of course there were other hideouts also connected to the tunnel. He had read about this sort of thing in a human history book. It was called an "Underground railroad". Being a lover of drama, he thought that this would make his efforts both easier and more dramatic. Sometimes, he imagined an elaborate scene. Ferrying frightened lowbloods from their perilous lives to freedom, only to be discovered halfway. The tunnels flooding with highbloods, then being dragged out and hung from a tall building for the entire world to see what happens to traitors who try to fight the highbloods rampage.

Of course, that would never happen. They'd probably be killed on the spot, which is why he made sure to tie any loose ends. His tunnels are a straight shot from his place to a branch of safe houses. Along the route are smaller branches that turn off from the main "railroad" and lead to other hideouts or meeting places incase his house is discovered for being the main source. Beside this tunnel is another that also leads from the house as a safety measure. If this tunnel is located but the house isn't, then the other tunnel will be used instead.

Each branch to each hideout and meeting place is hidden thoroughly, disguised within the walls of the tunnel. Openings only he can see. So if someone without his skills were to travel the tunnel, they'd see a straight path, no turn offs, when in reality, there are at least 6 other hideouts on that route.

It's genius, he often told himself. It took him a long time with a lot of help -four friends who are now dead- to finish that network, and he wasn't going to let the threat of being killed stop him for helping others out. Not after his friends had risked their lives helping to create these tunnels.

Turning off to the side he grabbed a few rocks that were piled up. They were large, boulder like rocks, piled up. But nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There were a lot of them along the trail, some piled up even higher. It looked like a lazy digging job, but as he moved them aside a hole was revealed. On the other side was a ladder that lead down into a smaller tunnel. Crouching he carefully grabbed the ladder and lowered himself in. It wasn't a long climb. Just enough to drop down a couple levels or two. And on the inside there was a door which was made to look like the side of the tunnel -not perfectly, one can only do so much with limited supplies.

Shutting the door behind him, he made his way down the tunnel. Eventually he came across another ladder. Grabbing it he climbed up and pushed open a trap door much like the one in his closet at home. He listened for a second, not wanting to crawl out into a festival of highbloods. But when no sound was to be heard, he climbed out. This house was farther off to the side of the city -it was one of his friends houses who had helped him build the tunnels. He sought freely, the use of their homes seeing how they were spread out and remote enough.

Climbing up he shut the door again and headed out. He heard whispering the farther into the house he got, but he recognized the voice instantly. "I'm sorry I created such a scene back there." He spoke as he entered a room that resembled the livingroom. The Carapace whom he had given the note too looked up, the trolls that accompanied also raised their worried gazes. "You understand why it's important to keep a low profile." He looked at the others.

"Yes, I was told by my contact that you were giving the appearance that you didn't care to avoid scrutiny from the other highbloods." She replied. So she thought that he was a highblood as well, he noted. Good, that would make his apology short.

"We'll move in an hour, see if we get any other people who need to be escorted to a safe house." He instructed, leaning against a wall. "Keep your voices down, keep the lights off and make your peace now. There's always a chance of death, especially with the number of you in the group." He crossed his arms, staring off at the photos of his friend on the wall as the others conversed with each other quietly. It was going to be a long, tiring night.

Overhead, the sky roils with clouds the color of ashes. The tiny little blue eyelash that is Skaia manages to feebly shine through the thicket of threatening clouds. Skaia glows disconsolately, out of place and strange-looking amongst the darkness.

Other than that, there is no other light save for the dimming purple glow beneath Point's feet. It casts shadows that go the wrong way on her features, highlights the dark gleam on her armor with a flash of violet.

But nevermind that; she's got something else to do, and it's getting late. Ducking back into the training center, she blinks at the sudden deluge of light.

"Clear the grounds for tomorrow morning," she says to the trainees that mill by the door. "Make it quick, and I'll lighten the training for tomorrow." Most of them straighten, mumble a quick affirmation and offer a sloppy, sleep-laden salute. The few that look exhausted grumble petulantly before slinking off to pick up the fallen training staffs and targets. One of the other Commanders bids her goodnight as she swirls her cloak over her shoulders and exits the training grounds.

Night on Derse at this time of year is bitterly cold. Decked in full Commander regalia, no one even gives her a second glance as she passes by the few still out on the streets.

Her task tonight is simple. She is to search for an underground network that possibly smuggles weapons and/or trolls. Her source was unclear, but if she does find evidence, she may have to make some arrests tonight.

She rounds the corner, shakes her head. Or not. She has no wish to further contribute to the Condesce's tyranny.

Stopping in a narrow alleyway, she withdrew a well-worn paper from her pocket. This was her only lead.

Mornings were never her forte. Breakfast half-eaten and her eyes still heavy with sleep, she sighed and took a seat in front of her study desk. Chancing a look at the clock, she calculated thirty minutes until she had to leave.

Her violin gleamed darkly in its case when she drew the light to the side to angle it out of her eyes. Brushing the bow with rosin, she flexed the wood in her hands, tilting her chair back to contemplate the ceiling.

She wondered if having power was worth being cooped up like a bird in a cage, or maybe a pretty blue morpho peleides with its wings pinned neatly to a board.

It was certainly frustrating, being this close to the Rebellion. She hadn't heard from the informant in weeks, and she had failed to follow through with her recent audience with the imprisoned Black Queen.

Hooking the tip of her toes behind the edge of the desk, she pulled herself upright and set down the bow a little too forcefully. A half-empty glass of wine she had out on the desk teetered ominously on its thin stem before falling over the edge of the table, shattering over the open violin case below. Gasping, she quickly snatched up the instrument and knelt to examine the damage. Satisfied when she confirmed no residual damage to it, she lay the violin on the seat she had occupied seconds ago. Turning to the glass shards littering the floor and sweeping her hand underneath the desk to catch any stray pieces, she stopped when her hand brushed something solid and leathery.

Curious, she pulled her find out to be greeted with the sight of a black-bound diary with tattered edges and a well-worn cover decorated with her name spelled in thin, curling cursive.

She thought she'd lost her diary along with Kairan's death on Alternia.

Apparently not.

Trying not to think too much of its contents, she flipped to the last entry and turned the page, startled when a loose leaf fluttered out and landed on her feet. Bending down to pick it up, she examined the page. It was a network of lines in red ink layered over a map of most of Derse.

More mysteries, she thought wearily. She'd already gotten herself into enough trouble with having this one to contend with.

But if Kairan had left it for her to find, then she was obligated to figure out what it was. Memories of her dead friend were usually unwelcome. Provided too much insight on what she was and how she was still vulnerable to emotion.

Flipping over the paper, she froze when she saw Tyrius Cabral's name written alongside Kairan's. Narrowing her eyes, she smoothed the paper out and lay it closer next to the light. Two other illegible names lay underneath. The last one- she strained to figure it out.

"Velani Alsuhi," she said out loud, the words rolling off of her tongue. Six letters. Likely a troll.

When Kairan had tried to stop Tyrius from killing her for finding out what they were involved in, she had mentioned that there were others. This Velani Alsuhi was possibly integral to finding out what her late friend had been planning.

Tucking the paper into her pocket, she straightened, her hands braced against her desk. Tonight, when the day was over, she would go out to investigate.

Looking up from the paper, she crumpled it and stood in front of a dilapidated house. The single red line drawn on the map had ended at this house.

Dusty curtains lay in the windows, and the gate creaked forlornly when she pushed it open and quietly ascended the steps to the front door. Trying the handle, it swung open without a single sound to her surprise. Taking a closer look at the hinges, she noted that they had been well-oiled.

Venturing further in, she wandered past the peeling wallpaper and the faded carpet before she heard voices. Her eyes widening, she drew her sword and took another step into the room.

Startled eyes met hers, and some drew back with a shriek at the sight of her weapon. Tensing, she took a step back. She was outnumbered, and it was clear that she was unwelcome here.

But she did have an obligation. Dropping her hands, but not letting go of her sword, she spoke, a hard gleam to her eyes. "Which of you is named Velani Alsuhi?"

Velani stood in the doorway, leaned against the door frame as he stared at the clock. He was waiting for the last few minutes until it was time to go. The other trolls were whispering amongst themselves, talking about where they would go, asking questions about how long they'd have to stay at the safe houses, or what happens if they're caught.

The Carapace female seemed to answer each question truthfully each time, saying that she didn't know how long they'd have to stay in hiding and that if they were caught they'd probably be killed depending on who it was who caught them. "How are we going to get to the safe house?" A younger female troll questioned, looking at her.

"I have a whole network of tunnels running between the various check points from the first building you approached to the safe house. There are a total of 15 safe houses throughout Derse so far. Some of them, it takes about a half a day to walk to, but there is a safe house closest to each tunnel entrance point." He explained.

"What if the tunnels are found out?" The Carapace questioned, both concerned and amazed.

"Don't you think the highbloods would know about these tunnels if they've always been there?" A male troll scoffed.

"No, the highbloods don't know where these tunnels are. It was I who created these tunnels shortly after the murder of my guardian. I got together with a couple of friends and together we dug them out." He looked at the photos on the walls again and closed his eyes. "Each tunnel is what I'd like to call a dual network. No tunnel is connected, yet they're all connected. Each pick up point has two or more escape routes that lead down into these tunnels. My house has three. The tunnel I took to get here has four. There are two tunnels, side by side, connected by sub tunnels."

"What the hell does that mean?" The male trolls snarled, getting loud. All of the trolls gasped and looked at him. It was a sudden and violent gesture made by the troll, one that reminded Velani of-. Velani glared at him, his eyes narrowing. To Velani, he blanked out, everything going dark as panic took over at the young trolls raised voice.

"Shut up and I will tell you." He stepped forward. The other trolls stopped, noticing the way he held himself was much different than it was just a few minutes ago. "Listen and you peasant bloods should be enlightened." A small smirk stretched across his face, his voice softening out, his words sharp and punctual. "The tunnel that we traveled through, has a sister tunnel created right next to it, mirroring it almost exactly. You travel through one, you would never know that there could be another right next to it. Throughout that tunnel located inside of the wall, are different entrances to smaller tunnels leading to each drop off point, and in the wall of those smaller tunnels or subtunnels, are entrances to the sister tunnel. For if my fellow highbloods were to find us out, we could flee you disgusting lowbloods into the other tunnel." He stepped into the center of the room.

"What the hell-"

"Language," Velani glared at him.

"What the fuck...what are you some sort of...bipolar freak?" The male troll continued snarling, the others tried to quiet him down. "Why are you suddenly insulting us like you're any fucking bett-" Suddenly he hit the wall. Velani stared deep into his eyes, his hand around his throat.

"Did I not just tell you to watch your language? It is not how a peasant blood should speak to a highblood who is willing to risk her life for you." He stepped back, letting the boy fall to the floor. "And please, call me Madam Milani." He (she?) smirked. "Or if you feel that to be too drab, then the least you will be allow to address me is Lady Antias." She stepped back, allowing the young troll to cough and sputter on the floor.

"Antias? I thought your name was Velani?" The Carapace stared at her/him frightened as one of the other trolls rushed to their choking friends side.

"He is here too." Antias replied, sitting down in a large, plush chair, placing her filthy boots on a coffee table. She didn't give a damn, it was a lowbloods house anyway.

"Too?" The Carapace cocked her head.

"It is a long story lady, one that I do not want to tell you. If you stop now, I promise that I will not kill you all myself. After all, I am trying to stay on Velani's good side so that he can let me come out and play more often." She snickered. "Maybe," She sat forward, her legs crossed. "I could stifle my vomit long enough for you to apologize to me by doing me a service." She looked at the young lowblood, his hands wrapped around his neck as he gasped. He returned the look, shocked, then growled.

"You try to kill me then want me to fill a pail with you!?" She rolled her eyes then stood up.

"To you, it should be an honor knowing that I am willing to sully myself with an impeccable shitblood such as yourself." Suddenly they went silent. Antias stiffened up and turned her head towards the door. She stood up quickly, her arms to her sides and she listened. It was silent, nothing could be heard. She waited for a couple more seconds before turning, looking back at the others. “Well, it is almost time to go, and we should before some highblood finds us and kills me for helping you.” She ground the toe of her shoe into the floor in distaste for a second before stepping out from behind the coffee table.

“What about us? Do you not care about us?” One of the girls questioned, looking at her concerned. They were all thoroughly confused as to what had happened. The boy they surely thought was a boy announced himself as 'Antias Milani'. It was almost as if two people were sharing the same body -which is absurd.

“What happens to you is superficial. You are expendable, there are always more lowbloods to help out throughout the city, but there is only one of me.” She stared at them. They looked at her angry at first, then suddenly, their expressions changed to one of horror. She smiled, proud of herself for putting fear into the hearts of those filthy lowbloods, when suddenly, a few of them screamed, covering their heads with their arms as if being threatened.

Cold seeped into her bones, when footsteps reached her ears. She whirled around, her eyes connecting with those of a humans. “Shit.” She gasped, then took a step back, spotting the sword. Suddenly, her mind went blank as she retreated back, letting Velani take over once again.

"Which of you is named Velani Alsuhi?" The human asked, looking tense. Velani returned, his mind blank of what had just happened, all he caught was this woman saying his name. He looked at her thoroughly confused, wondering who she was, or what was happening. He briefly thought that she was there to help, but the weapon in her hand proved otherwise.

“I...I...” He stuttered a bit, then craddled his face in the palm of his hand for a second before looking back up at her. “Please sheath your weapon. We're no threat to you.” He replied, looking at her.

“You fucking asshole! She's going to kill us you greedy son of a bitch!” The male troll Antias had strangled screamed from the corner of the room. He looked back at the boy and noticed the bruising on his throat.

“I...” He stopped and stared at the human with a blank expression. “I'm sorry, but can you please tell me how long you've been standing there with your weapon pointed at us? I...” He craddled his face again. “I wasn't paying attention.” He whispered, knowing that that seemed so stupid.

“You were not paying attention? To someone barging in and threatening to kill you? Wow, idiot.” Antias hissed in the back of his mind.

“You...threatened to kill us?” He stared at the human again, his eyebrows furrowed. “Do I even know you? How do you know my name? Oh Gog, I have a headache.” He covered his face with one hand then massaged the base of his horns. “Such a headache.”

She redoubled her grip on the sword and slowly backed into a fighting stance, her eyes fixed on the one who had spoken. "Judging by what I just heard, I do think you have a potential to be a threat." The troll that had shouted, panicked, now looked frantically at the heavy lamp in the corner to her head. That would not be happening if she could help it.

Sweeping her gaze across the room, she noted a carapace, a group of younger trolls, and the one who had asked her to put her weapon away. His neckbrace was cerulean- perhaps he was similarly blooded- and he appeared to be the one in charge, as well.

"I haven't been standing here for now. Rest assured," she added in a softer tone, "I mean none of you harm unless you choose to act offensively." A tiny movement caught her eye, and in a flash, she was holding out the sword towards the perpetrator. The male troll- 5'11'', muscular, a slight list in his left leg, a thousand weak points she could use to take him down- was holding the lamp in his hand, his eyes flashing with murderous panic.

Her every movement poised for combat, she nodded towards the lamp, dark blue eyes icy with severity. "I would advise you to put that down, please. I won't use this sword unless I am prompted to defend myself."

Maintaining eye contact, she didn't move at all until the troll slowly put down the makeshift weapon, breathing shallowly with distress as she turned away towards Velani Alsuhi.

The boy was clutching at his head, wincing as she came closer. The floor creaked beneath her feet, the carpet doing little to muffle the sound. She sheathed her sword- it wasn't like she couldn't draw it in less than a second's notice- and spoke. "Please believe me. I mean you no harm, Mr. Alsuhi. Your name is known to me because of my friends- Kairan Sendar- and Tyrius Cabral. Recognize the name? Before Kairan died, she gave me this map. I found Tyrius's and Kairan's name on it. I'd like to know more about it."

Taking out the scrap of paper, she showed it to the troll. "What is this for? A smuggling ring? Illegal trade?"

When he hesitated to answer, Point decided to pull rank. "I am Point Ardenwell, Commander of the Dersite Army, and it would do you well to answer my questions promptly. Unless you comply, I will have no choice but to arrest you."

It was extremely unlikely that she would follow through with that threat, given that Tyrius and Kairan had once been involved, but it wasn't like she was about to let them know that.

He stopped when Tyrius's name was mentioned. He looked up at her confused, then looked at the piece of paper. He carefully took it from her and looked at it. He swallowed as his eyes followed the lines across the paper. His mind flashed back on the past few years, sitting in the dark earth, digging the purplish, black soil free from it's position in the ground. He remembered, sitting on stone, listening to those he had enlisted to help him -his close friends- talk merrily about how they'd be thought of as heroes after this whole highblood scare was over.

He remembered receiving news as each of his friends were slaughtered, hung in random parts of the town as a mocking gesture. Yes, most highbloods knew that they were a troupe, but what they were doing the highbloods had no idea, just that they could possibly be a threat. He remembered listening to Tyrius's talk about how he was beginning to regret even joining. He's the one who talked her into staying. He's the one who inadvertantly killed him. He was the last of his friends to die, and he remembered standing above his corpse, his throat slit, his eyes wide as his wrists rest bound on his chest, his arms stiff.

He swallowed hard, his eyes closing for a second. He hated these memories. He hated being the last one alive. After a minute -and making sure he wasn't going to cry- he looked back up at her and nodded. “I know Tyrius.” He admitted. “If you're looking to exact revenge for me killing his you'd be killing an innocent man. Tyrius and I were friends who shared the same goal.” He flipped the page over, looking at the back. “These lines represent the path to freedom. In a way, I guess we are smuggling. We're taking any citizens who wish to be saved to safe houses until all of this is over with. If you wish to stop me, you'll have to fight me, because I refuse you to let you kill these people, and you won't stop me from helping these people escape those who want them dead.” He replied seriously, then handed her the piece of paper, his face blank.

“We've suffered from this tyranny enough. And if you say that you're friends with Mister Cabral, then you would know how important this is, and stopping me would be the worst stain to your fallen friends name one could commit.” He turned and made his way across the room. “Drop the lamp boy, it's time to leave. Now is the busiest time for the highbloods to travel.”

The male with the lamp dropped it and looked at him, squeaking. “But...why are we traveling during highblood rush hour?” Opening a closet Velani opened the trap door he came in through and lowered himself down.

“Because they'll be too busy killing to patrol. And if we don't go now, chances are someone might have spotted Miss Ardenwell and will soon come in to investigate.” He turned and helped the trolls down into the hole, followed by the Carapace. He stopped and looked at Point for a second then looked at the hole. “You're a friend of Tyrius, I trust you, but if you tell anyone about these tunnels...” He moved only his eyes, looking at her from the corner of his eyes. “Well, I hope the guilt eats away at you for ruining everything your friend had died for. And when you leave, please make sure no one sees you.” He crouched and dropped down into the hole. “Or if I can trust you enough, come with me...actually, it's because I don't trust you. Kind of contradicting to what I said earlier. But you can understand where I'm coming from surely.”

"So you were the one who killed him," she said, listening intently. "I'd always wondered where he'd gone after that incident." She paused as he handed her the paper. "I can't say that his death was a major loss to me. He was the catalyst for the death of one of my friends. Cabral taught me nothing but the fact that some trolls were willing to kill anyone, even innocents, for a cause. Just though it might have been..... what he did was not the best way he could have remedied the situation."

Point stood by and watched as Velani ushered the refugees into the hole, arching her eyebrows as he stated his terms. They were the last ones in the room, staring at one another in tense silence. She contemplated her sword. No doubt he could- and would- carry through with his warning, but she hadn't been bested in many years, not since she'd risen through the ranks.

Oh, hell. She'd already gotten herself into such a mess with the discovery of the Black Queen and her affiliation with the Rebellion. These were just innocents trying to help a good cause.

She shifted the sword to one hand and gave a single shrug. "Well, your threat would only apply if I did want to go against you. My job is not one of an Agent's, only to lead the troops where they will, and though I am obligated to report you, forget those weak-willed, servile shells." She re-sheathed her sword. "I serve the old Monarchy, the Black Queen, and the false one on the throne is not the one I answer to. I neither approve of nor endorse what she has done to Derse, and thus I will aid you." Point grimaced, crossed her armor-clad arms. "As much trouble I've gotten myself into already, this is just the icing on the cake. It'd be useful, at any rate, having a Commander by your side. I doubt any of those trolls-" and she nodded at the hole they had vanished through- "-would be much help if you had run into any hostile opponents."

Truth be told, she was simply curious- and this might be a way for the Rebellion to finally have a way to move without being seen. The Black Queen might also have benefited from these tunnels- and so she would follow Velani Alsuhi and aid him.