The Fugitives of Azkaban [IC]

[Hazuki]

Fugitives of Azkaban

Upon the eastern shore of Scotland, three figures stood and three knelt before them. The frigid night chilled their bones, specks of rain scattered across their skin, and the scent of a salty death in the raging ocean made their noses wrinkle. The tallest of the standing three reached into the pocket of his tightly-wound fur coat and pulled forth a fist-sized ball of interlocking mirrors. At the center sat a small circular mirror, reflective on both sides, with links at the top and bottom that connected it to the next largest mirror-segment, hollow to make room for the smallest mirror. The man reached into his coat and retrieved his wand, slender fingers giving a flick to the outermost rung of mirrors.

Then, it was dropped, but hung in mid-air, as each segment of the mirror started to spin. Slowly, at first, but as they began to spin faster, so too did the light get brighter. A light whirling noise filled the air, almost piercing the ears of the kneeling three, until the orb of mirrors glowed brightly enough to illuminate the tender young face of the wand-wielding Auror. It simply hung in the air, as he turned to face his companions with a vaguely self-satisfied smirk.

"We're all proud of you." The second man remarked dryly, his face shrouded in a hat with a very large brim and his voice like finely-ground rock. Then, he turned to the third standing figure, who had been keeping a vigil eye on the kneeling prisoners. "Since I have the brooms, I'm willing to guess that you've got the instructions. Is there anything special about today's visit, or can we get going?" He asked, a muscular hand reaching into a pouch at his waist as he retrieved three fairly plain broomsticks and handed them out to each of his allies.

"Standard procedure this time, Growler." The silver-haired woman answered, eyes wise and her movements easy as she captured the thrown broomstick. "And perhaps a more peaceful trip, if we can refrain from criticizing the ideas of our fellow aurors, hmm?" She added with a light smile on her aged lips, as she knelt before Tiberius Murphy and drew forth her wand. With one hand, she opened his jaw and found the plain metal stud that had been painfully forced through his tongue. It was weighty, and made the kneeling man's tongue tingle with the latent magic in the charmed item. The other two Aurors did the same check with each of their prisoners.

Growler grunted as he pulled his wand free, and ran it through the air three times, once for each of the prisoners, then crouched down in front of Alice Morris. Her hands already bound by thick chains, he pulled the young woman to her feet by her shoulders and retrieved another set of chains from his pocket, which he used to tie her hands to the base of the broomstick; a large indent went all around the shaft, to make certain they could not be slid off. "You'd best mount these yourselves." He informed the group of prisoners, his companions doing the same to each of theirs. "The trip to Azkaban is a lot less fun when your wrists and shoulders are dislocated."

After a few moments of nothing but the storm, the youngest of the three spoke up. "I still don't understand what your problem with it was..." He said, which earned an eyeroll from the female Auror. "I mean, we don't know what Stonehenge is, or what it was for...why couldn't it be a prison? It's as good as any other guess..."

"Because it would be too easy to escape, you sopping fool." Growler replied, his tone firm, but fond. "The intricacies of imprisonment are more important than 'maybe magic did it'. Give me an example of what magic you think this ephemeral 'They' used to keep people in, and perhaps I'll consider it." He said, giving each prisoner one last look-over with his wand before he stood beside his broomstick, one hand wrapped firmly around the tip, and waited for them to leave. "Just look at all the hassle we have to go through now! Anti-apparition studs, Silencio charms, check-ups every ten minutes, broomsticks that we have to spend ten minutes attuning our wands to every week, only one of us knowing what's going on until we show up, and an artifical Will o' Wisp. If anybody had to go through anything close to that for their prisoners there would be some evidence of it around Stonehenge. But there isn't. It's rocks, Edward."

"Don't forget the Dementors, Growler." The woman helpfully chimed in, as she mounted her broomstick just before Tiberius and kicked off of the ground, hovering in the air. "Now, Edward, could you please set off the Beacon so we can get going? The Impervius charm only lasts for so long, and I don't want chilly toes."

Edward sighed lightly as he mounted his broomstick before Gabriel Lenacre and flicked his wand, setting the Beacon hurtling across the stormy sea. "Yes, Madame Goldthorpe. But...why don't we use the Dementors?" He asked, as all three of them lifted off of the ground and chased after the Beacon at a steady pace. "Seems like they'd make all of this unnecessary..."

"Because," Growler called back, his voice considerably louder to compensate for the winds that were tearing at the group of Aurors. "Brigands. If they attack while we're conjuring Patronuses, we won't just die...we'll suffer the sorry fate of this lot on our backs. Dementors are allied with the ministry, but they're opportunistic at best. If we miss a beat, we'll get a Kiss same as anybody else."

That seemed to assuage Edward's questions for a time, as the continued trip to Azkaban seemed to continue fairly peacefully. The choppy seas raged beneath them, rain pelted ineffectively against their charmed robes and skin, and the clouds hung dark and low over them, all while the Beacon flew ahead; bright and noisy so that their attention was never lost. It was only when they were a good distance from the shore, at least ten miles away, that a single disturbance threatened the safety of their voyage. A high-pitched whistling sound suddenly came into earshot, different from that of the Beacon, and barely perceptible over the sounds of the storm.

"What could that be..." Edward mused out loud, his brow furrowing in confusion as he looked upwards in search of whatever was making the noise. In the time he'd begun to ponder, his fellow Aurors had already drawn their wands and, one hand on their broom, conjured up invisible walls that the rain made visible. Then, they saw it; an ornate music box was hurtling through the air; a fairly simple device, but all present could detect it for what it was. "A music box? With a sleeping charm? What's that doing ou-"

"Draw your wand." Growler instructed the young Auror, his barrier shielding both of them from the now-silent sounds of the music box. They maintained them as Edward nodded, swiftly reaching for his wand, and the music box gained vertical distance from the trio. "Brigands. Has to be. Only they'd think to use a prank device to take out Aurors." Just as he'd finished his sentence, another whistling noise pierced the air; all three Aurors draw their wands, cast their invisible Imperturbable charms above and around them...then heard the distinctly unsettling noise of pierced flesh. At the rear of the group, Edward let out a cry of pain, as a large crossbow bolt stuck out from his shoulder and his crimson blood started to seep over his prisoner, Gabriel.

The flight path of Edward's broom already wavering, Growler pulled his broom back until he was flying right alongside the boy. As Edward called "Protego totalum!", the shorter man had already started to chant "Vulnera Sanentur" with his wand pointed at the wound and the shield slowly enveloping each of the men. Madame Goldthorpe had cast a charm of her own, calling forth "Homenum Revelo" and taking in a deep breath, a scowl covering her face as she weaved through the air. Then, out the stormy sky, no less than ten boomerangs hurled towards her, each of which she deflected with a wave of her wand in a worldess flurry of Depulsos.

The boomerangs were all flung away from the Auror woman, leaving her free from assault for just one moment before they all suddenly curved in the air and changed their course. And suddenly, they were all shooting at Madame Goldthorpe again. She gritted her teeth, Depulsing as many of them as possible with rapid flicks of her wrist, but they only sought out her flesh again, each time turning back with a bloodlust.

"Vulnera isn't working." Growler called grimly to Madame Goldthorpe, as Edward's wand-arm was steadily growing weaker, his fingers loosening their grip, and his eyes growing hazy. "The bolt was treated with Tentacula; we need to get the boy back to the Ministry." He stated, getting only silence in return as Madame Goldthorpe's eyes narrowed against the assaulting boomerangs. "Prisoners or Aurors?"

Madame Goldthorpe said nothing as she brought her wand across her chest and gave it one firm swish over the top of her head, sending all of the boomerangs behind her and lining up in one big clump as they turned back to attempt striking her again. She swiveled her broomstick around, facing the returning boomerangs and meeting them with a gout of amber flame that spouted from the tip of her wand and turning them into little more than ash.

"Both." Madame Goldthorpe called back, her wand at the ready and her revealing charm strong. "Our right!" She suddenly yelled, as a hail of crossbow bolts could be seen hurtling towards all thee aurors. "And down!" She added, weaving her broomstick towards the sea and giving Tiberius a rough shake as she banished the bolts and, through ducking, avoided the air-sundering slash of a silver sword that could be seen darting past her, as though it were being wielded by an invisible force.

Although Growler had dodged the bolts, Edward had not been so lucky, as they collided with his fading shield charm and drained the last of the energy in his ailing form. His consciousness faded there and then, and he slipped from the seat of his broomstick and began to fall through the air beneath it, his broomstick gliding along for a few more moments before it started to lose momentum. The shortest Auror took in a deep breath at the sight of his falling comrade and re-affirmed his grip on his broomstick; his eyes narrowed so firmly on Edward that he didn't spot the man's wand vanishing.

"We can't all escape with our lives." Growler yelled to the Madame, his voice taking on a much lower tone as he darted through the air. "For what it's worth," He spoke to Alice, bound to the back of his broomstick. "I'm sorry we didn't make it. And you may be a murderer, but you don't deserve whatever fate the Brigands have in mind for you." With that, he flicked his wand twice; once, for a charm that gave control of the broomstick to whoever was holding it. And again, to loose the chains that bound the young woman to his broomstick. Then, he slipped off just as they flew across the air above Edward. He captured the young man in mid-fall and, in the blink of an eye, had apparated out of the storm.

A growl escaped from Madame Goldthorpe's throat as she saw her fellow Aurors slip away, squeezing the base of her wand with all her might and unleashing a hail of severing charms at the air around her. Several cries of pain echoed through the raging night air, but, in her flurry of attacks against the assaulting Brigands, lost track of the silver blade that shone through the darkness. It was all too late for her to regain her focus, as Tiberius washed the elegant weapon slice through straight through the broom, between where he and she sat.

Madame Goldthorpe, helplessly free-falling a few feet away from her prisoner, could only watch the falling corpses of those she'd managed to strike in her flurry of severing charms; their cloaks having fallen off, their broomsticks loose in the air, one of the prisoners already freed, and the fading light of the Beacon in the distance. With one final slash of her wand, a wiry rope of flame shot through the night air and wrapped around the crossguard of the silver blade that still shone in the air. It was tugged free from the hand of the Brigand who wielded it and went crashing towards the depths of the North Sea; and then the Auror disapparated out of sight.

Tiberius was falling through the air, his hands still bound and his voice silenced, but his chains freed from the broomstick and a Brigand's falling broomstick just a few feet away. It was within reach, if he cared to grab it, and Madame Goldthorpe's assault had seemed to remove most of the threat of the Brigands, if the eight or so corpses hurtling towards the crashing waves was any clue.

Gabriel was bound to his intact, but falling, broomstick; silenced, but he felt something slip between his palms as he watched the chaos that went on above him. He could have sworn that he felt something ruffling his hair, as he glanced down and spotted the wand that had been slipped into his bound hands; Edward's.

Alice, able to fly freely through the air, steered clear of the falling broomsticks and corpses, tentatively watching the actions of her companions. Her hands were free, her broomstick was hers to command, but she was still silenced and wandless. She could spot Tiberius, falling helplessly with a broomstick just within reach, and Gabriel, who was freefalling helplessly, but who, she could just make out, happened to have a wand clenched in his hands.

[Raunchel]

Alice was on her knees mere minutes ago, fearing Azkaban, and more. She feared what this would mean for her career and of course how she would find Emma when she returned, if she returned. Azkaban was a terrible place, and as a part of the Wizengamot she knew more about it than most witches and wizards ever would, or would ever want to know. But that was over now, it would take years to wipe of this stain on her flawless record, but then again, they were just muggles and she knew the right people. She certainly wouldn't try to escape, it never worked, and she cared just a little too much about herself to try. Luckily the affair has been kept reasonably quiet, her colleagues don't like scandals, and quite a few of them actually like, or liked, her. She will serve her time and get back to her ambitions, perhaps Azkaban won't be too bad and maybe it will even help her with some things. There are so many things that she really has to think about. And write, yes, maybe she should finally write that book she was always thinking about.

The aurors are quite unpleasant, but then again, they don't have the most exciting occupation in the world. And they are using her charm. If she could talk she would certainly point out that fact. Not because she is arrogant, of course not, but just for the sheer irony of the thing. The broomstick is uncomfortable like she already noticed when she was still playing quidditch. The memory makes almost all her bones hurt, but mostly her backside. If only someone would invent a charm to make the brooms more comfortable.

Then, an attack. Alice is afraid, she just wants all this over with, and being attacked is bad enough in normal circumstances, but while being bound and silenced it is even worse. At least there are the aurors, they seem capable, but then again, only a fool would ever attack them without a proper plan. A plan to win. The brigands must be behind this, but she doesn't know what they want, only that they are a threat. Not just to individual wizards, but also to the Ministry. And therefore to the whole wizarding world.

She can hardly make out what is happening, until she is given control of the broom. The moment that she has it her old instincts come back. She moves to the rider's position and turns as sharply as possible, to get a measure of the broomstick. All of them are hand made and completely different in how they are to use, and bitter experience has taught her that a new broom shouldn't be used for serious things before it is properly tested. Unfortunately there is no time for it now. Two men are falling, her fellow prisoners. For a moment she feels like letting them both fall and drown, but that would reflect poorly on her. The one with the wand could save himself, or at least last for a few more moments but the other would surely fall to his death without her help. She moves into a steep dive to retrieve him, almost missing because the broom is different from the one she's used to. After getting him she turns sharply to the man with the wand, and attempts to catch him as well, hoping that the broom will hold the three of them. It probably will, she is quite light and the weight of some prisoners added to some aurors would make it a necessity to have brooms that can carry the combined weight of this trio. The turning is hard with the added weight, but she narrowly manages to reach out to the wandbearer.

[MrE]

Gabriel was not one to be consumed by bitterness. But kneeling in the rain with his tongue studded and his words silenced, Gabriel fumed. The three Aurors matter-of-factly began their preparations to transport the three prisoners, and Gabriel spent that whole time hating each one of them: for supporting the State's silencing of outspoken voices, for their disregard for prisoners who did not deserve this torture. For their cruelty in mentioning the Dementor's kiss to three people who would have to endure the Dementors' touch for many years to come.

Mounted behind the tall man, Edward, who had produced the Beacon. Gabriel returned to his own thoughts. He knew that only mental strength would avail him against the Dementors, and if he were to survive his five year sentence with his mind intact, he would need every scrap of passion and strength that he could muster. He had composed a list of every injustice in the magical world, even if they were so deeply ingrained that he would never have a chance of overturning them. Everything that could kindle his fervour. He had stored them away, but now he brought them forth, and stoked himself to anger, a righteous anger that he was being treated this way, and that without him the to speak the truth, the Ministry would continue to oppress many of his fellow citizens.

But he was woken from his reverie by the sudden attack. He flinched as a crossbow bolt blossomed in Edward's shoulder, and he cried out in surprise as the attack continued. Who even used crossbow bolts? he briefly wondered, but there was little time for a more thorough review of that question as the attack continued. He marveled at the skill of the Aurors (though notably, not his own guard) and at the ingenuity of their assailants, but when their attack finally breached Edward's shield Gabriel found the broom tipping forwards and sinking, his hands clamped tightly to the wooden shaft.

He had ridden brooms before many times, and so it was an impossible feeling for him to have one between his legs and yet be tumbling towards the earth. Despite knowing they were charmed to only obey one rider he desperately tried to fly the thing, but it wouldn't respond to him. His speed was increasing and he soon reached terminal velocity, just ahead of the other prisoner who appeared to only have half a broom. He yanked his hands against their restraints, but it was no use, they were chained tightly to the broom.

He felt something move near his head, and glanced about and then felt something fall into his hand. A wand! Silenced as he was and with his head filled with panic, it was a wonder that he remembered his own name, but Growler's words echoed in his head: "broomsticks that we have to spend ten minutes attuning our wands to every week..."

Could it be Edward's wand? Edward's wand and Edward's broomstick? Gripping the wand firmly in one hand and holding the broomstick in the other, he hauled upwards on the falling broomstick, fighting against his wild fall.

The broom responded and leveled out, and Gabriel surged up and away from his brush with death. Regaining height, he looked about for his comrades or further assailants. The girl, Alice, seemed to have caught the other prisoner, which surprised Gabriel, but he couldn't make out any sign of the Brigands who had attacked them, or any Aurors, yet.

He tried to call out to Alice, but no sound came forth and he realised he was still charmed. Hovering in mid air he waved the Auror's wand and concentrated hard on the words: finite incantatem. With Edward gone and his magic failing, Gabriel was confident he could break the Auror's charm, even with a borrowed wand.

[Hazuki]

Alice managed to maneuver through the stormy air, swiftly regaining control of the unfamiliar broomstick, and caught sight of a flurry of hands shifting out of the air. Just as she managed to shift the weight of Tiberius onto the back of her broomstick, he mumbled and loosely clung to it; eyes rolling, breaths light, it was clear that he was about to pass out if he hadn't already. As she adjusted her flight path, sailing towards the remaining prisoner, she watched a group of the gloved hands swooping downwards, towards the fallen Brigands, and grabbing mismatched pieces of equipment. Severed invisibility cloaks, nigh-useless, and whatever broomsticks remained in good condition.

While three pairs of hands looted the crimson-splashed waves, one more darted through the air towards the swiftly-sailing Beacon and seized it from the air. As it was grasped, it just as swiftly disappeared from sight and left the escaping prisoners with little light, save for the beams of moonlight that barely trickled through the clouds.

Gabriel seized control of the broomstick, its weight fairly hefty and its design inelegant, but serviceable enough to keep him from the crashing waves below. The pliant wand grasped tightly between his fingers resisted his focus at first, letting the man's concentration simply slip past it as though it wasn't even there. The clarity needed for wordless incantations only made it more difficult, but Gabriel's focus managed to tame the wand in just a few moments, and he felt the silence of his form slip away, along with the charm that keeps the rain from hammering into his skin. The thick stud in his tongue kept him from being as eloquent as possible, and the magic imbued in the stud was still potent, but at least he was silenced no longer.

[MrE]

That's better! Gabriel thought as the charm around him ended. It had the rather unfortunate downside of ending the other charms on him, and as he flew towards Alice, he regretted not learning that new charm that would have kept him dry.

He slowed as he approached the girl, the thick broomstick clunkily stopping under his inexpert hand. He raised the wand towards Alice and muttered: "Finite Incantatem!" Again the wand resisted him, but he was prepared for this and directed his full concentration towards the wand. He felt the spell take hold and was rewarded with the sight of the two criminals suddenly being caught in the rain: the spell had worked.

Even as he took in his two companions he caught sight of the strange gloves crawling over the site of the attack. They appeared to be stealing anything and everything they could get their 'hands' on, and when the light of the Beacon vanished, Gabriel was prompted to action.

"Lumos!" he called, to restore their illumination, then introduced himself: "My name is Gabriel. I think we should retrieve as much as we can from those bodies before those strange gloves take anything else." He was thinking that magical tools would be useful for them, but the two criminals would probably be more concerned with finding wands.

Turning his broomstick around, Gabriel headed towards the bodies of the Brigands, attempting to Depulso any of the Hands that got in his way.

[Raunchel]

She could talk again. But there was a problem remaining for Alice, the man, the agitator, Lenacre. He had helped her, but he might not yet have recognized her face. But she knew him. It was one of her last trials, and of course she had voted for his conviction. He was a threat to ministry policy, and even if she might have agreed with him, that would't have had any influence, sentences were politics, not justice. Justice was just an empty phrase meant for the masses.

But now he had the wand and she didn't. The hands would be snatching up any that had fallen into the water, and she couldn't make them out anyways, not without her charms. She shouted: "Mr. Lenacre! Be careful, there will bemagic behind those hands! We have to leave as fast as possible!"

Of course, she would have to overpower both others once it came down to it. Then she could hand them over to the ministry and she would get her sentence reduced, and then she could get back to what really mattered.

[Hazuki]

The hands flinched and twisted as they were struck by Gabriel's bursts of force, quickly retreating away from the immediate vicinity of the bodies and allowing him to get closer to the forms that were just managing to sit atop the crashing waves, limbs limply tossed about by the uncaring storm. With the charms removed by his own inelegant dispelling, the man's sight was all too impeded by the distracting rain, and his position made all too clear by the bright orb of light that shone from the tip of his wand.

After moving a fair distance away from the wizard, the hands had disappeared from sight, and it was only as Gabriel flew in closer to one of the corpses that he noticed their presence again. Less noticed, and more felt, as a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around each of his own; stopping his movement and preventing him from being able to hover, if he kept trying to move forwards. There was the distinct sound of breathing, past even the pelting rain, as the invisible bodies held him tight and each reached up along his arm. One hand reached up to the pinky finger of his wand-wielding hand and, with a sickening crunch, wrenched it backwards until it hung limply against its knuckle.

The other pulled the bright wand free from that same hand, and tossed it through the air towards the other escaping prisoner; Alice. The invisible Brigands broke off from the injured man, and their hands re-appeared to scavenge the dead.

[Raunchel]

When she saw her fellow prisoner dive at the hands she feared for not only his life, but her own as well. But within moments fear turned to triumph. The wand came flying and she plucked it from the air. It resisted her, she should have expected that. But it almost made her drop the vital item. To her it meant life. She cast her first spell, one that she is intimately familiar with, probably the most familiar of all the wizards and witches in the world: "Impervius!"

It worked! Finally the rain stopped hammering her. Strange how vital such luxuries can become after a mere few years. Finally she could get an overview. Her instincts screamed at her to fly away as fast as possible, but no, Lenacre is far too useful. Murphy alone has a value, but the pair of them has a far greater one. She shouts: "We leave, now!" and turns around, putting the bound man to sleep with a soft incantation: "Dormivas"

[MrE]

As Gabriel began to examin the bodies he felt Hands grab hold of him and his blood chilled. He started an incantation but before he could complete it one of the Hands violently twisted his finger and he lost his grip on the wand. "Relash-aarrgghh!"

Gasping in pain and barely clinging to the clunky broom, Gabriel was just aware of the Hands relinquishing him, and he finally realised they were people, invisible people, not enchanted gloves. Though why the gloves were visible was unclear to him. Gripping the broom again firmly with one hand and gingerly with the other, he spun to face the girl who sat astride her broom confidently, with the rain parting around her: she knew that new charm clearly. Gabriel hadn't ever felt odd until that sight, when the girl, barely out of Hogwarts it seemed, knew something he did not.

He flew up to meet her slowly and examined the unconscious form of the prisoner behind her, but there was little to see. "Could you try and bring me a wand?" Gabriel called through the storm. He was uneasy facing an armed criminal, defenceless and injured as he was.

[Raunchel]

Alice sees the wonderful opportunity, she will escape with these two, knock out Lenacre when they are away and then they can be brought back to the ministry and they will pardon her. Or maybe she should keep them somewhere safe and contact some of her friends first. Yes, that will be much more effective. Soon she will be in favor again and her star will only rise faster.

"I'm afraid not, I have no intention to endanger myself, and you also shouldn't take such risks. The best we can do now is to leave, and to do it quickly. Right now they are still busy, but in a few moments that could change, with rather disastrous effects for us. Mr. Murphy remains firmly asleep, you are injured and I am quite inexperienced. There are more of them and they are obviously skilled. We just have to go. Now.", with that she turns and speeds away, letting Gabriel catch up.

[Hazuki]

Tiberius' form, hanging limply around the back of Alice's broom, got soaked with rain as his sleeping form clung to its ride as best it can. With the charm having taken advantage of an already sleepy state, he was placed into a bewitched sleep that he would not wake up from for a long time - or at least until its caster deemed it advantageous to wake him up.

As Alice turned and dashed away from the scene of the crime, leaving Gabriel behind if he didn't try to keep up, the invisible looters went back to their dutiful looting of the corpses. It didn't take long for them to loot the shreds of invisibility cloaks, broomsticks, and spare supplies - consisting of a few crossbows, various prank toys, and other paraphernalia they'd used to harass the Aurors.

[MrE]

Gabriel stared at her, surprised. Endanger?! She was the criminal. Well, he was also a criminal in the eyes of the world, but honestly he didn't think of himself as such. He had been denounced because he his words threatened the status quo to which the rich and powerful desperately clung. But to think that she viewed him as dangerous was a surprise.

He sped after her, but even burdened with the sleeping prisoner, she outpaced him, far more at home on a broom than he. He recalled flying lessons from their first year at Hogwarts: the only class he hadn't excelled in. lying as fast as he could after her, Gabriel called through the wind and rain: "Wait! Wait! Let me catch up." If she slowed he would draw alongside her and more calmly ask: "Would you mind putting that charm on me: to ward off the rain?" he felt vulnerable asking her to perform magic on him, but powerless as he was he didn't like the idea of flying all the way to wherever they were going with no protection from this storm."Where are we going?"

[Raunchel]

"Oh, of course, Impervius, I'm sorry for forgetting. First of all we should head back to land, a storm like this can be dangerous, and this burden makes maneuvering quite a bit harder than it normally should. Once we have found land we will get down and talk about what to do next. But I do wonder, what do you make of all this?", Alice asked, slowing down. She kept Gabriel far enough away that he couldn't leap for the wand, such an agitator could try desperate things. He should be respecting order, without the ministry there is nothing.

[MrE]

The wind and rain suddenly ceased battering him, and Gabriel relaxed, loosening his painful grip on the broom handle. So the girl didn't have a plan either? Well that was both a comfort and discomforting at the same time. At least they might not be heading to Azkaban straight away, but Gabriel felt a certain vulnerability now that he knew there were invisible Brigands in the storm.

"You're right, we should get out of this storm, and wake up sleepy-head. Then decide what to do." He left that comment open to interpretation. "My first time seeing Brigands. I hadn't expected that." He shudders, though it may just be the chill.

He tried to fly close to Alice, purely for the purpose of protection, though she maintained her distance from him, fearing some sudden attack by her companion.

[Raunchel]

When they finally reach land Alice lands, she tries to do so softly but somehow the wight of the sleeping man and the unfamilar broomstick take her of course and she has to perform a balancing act when her feet touch the ground. She manages to recover her footing and ends the charm on the sleeping one, freeing him from the chains. She keeps both men in her eyes, both are potentially dangerous, she recognizes the former sleeper, Tiberius Murphy. She also was on his trial. She hopes that she was not noticed by any of them, she was on one of the back rows, but then again, she was one of the few who were responsible for keeping the average age of the Wizengamot below a hundred. Not by much of course. Her not being very important within the body wasn't the only reason for being so far back, the greater of them was her age, she could still hear what was being said, unlike quite a few other members. Luckily she wasn't an interrogator in any of her companion's trials, then they would more certainly remember her.

"Mr. Murphy, Mr. Lenacre, I am Alice Morris. Our current situation is that we have two brooms and a single wand, have been sentenced to Azkaban and have come under attack by brigands, leading to this rather unexpected situation. Now I have to admit that I'm not quite sure what to do, but I certainly want to get rid of this stud, talking with it is deeply unpleasant. So I would ask you what your proposals would be for this situation. I personally belief that we should arrange for muggle clothes first, and then we can slip into the civilized world."

[horus42]

Tiberius wakes and blearily looks around. He nods and listens intently to Alice as she explains the situation.

"Aye, I think you might be right. I can barely talk with this bloody thing in." Hee gestures vaguely at the stud in his tongue. "Getting Muggle clothes should be easy enough, but only having one wand is a wee bit of a problem. Two of us'll have to go without magic until we can acquire replacements."

He sighs, and scratches the back of his head. "Do we know where exactly we are? Finding our way to the nearest town would be rather easier if we did."

[MrE]

"I would hardly call the muggle world civilised," Gabriel mutters darkly, but his resentment was mostly stemming from the fact that he had realised he would be unable to return to the wizarding world, or at least as he knew it.

"We need to decide now: we either hand ourselves in, or we don't. I'm not inclined to spend five years in Azkaban on the whims of my political enemies, but I don't know about you two. And if we run, there's no way we can return to society openly."

"This stud is irksome, but my first priority is getting a wand."

[Raunchel]

Words are better than force, at least, that was what Lucius Sprout told her once, before his death. He was one of the oldest Wizengamot members who still had his wits, and Alice always admired the former minister of magic. If she can convince these two to cooperate it will all be far easier than if she has to make them, but of course, they can't be trusted. Murphy was cooperative, she remembered that, but Lenacre, he is unreliable. "Of course we will have to get wands, but doing so would be rather dangerous. I think that it would be safer to first fully explore our options. And you, mr. Lenacre have to understand that your position of opposition to the ministry is in fact a crime, you might have been sentenced to five years, but what is five years compared to life as a condemned fugitive. And for you, mr. Murphy, I'm certain that it will be possible to make some arrangements, based on migitating circumstances and your perfect collaboration. Of course, the death of a muggle makes things a little complicated, but by pulling the right strings you will be fine. There are ways to avoid a life sentence, and even if that would fail, what sort of life does an international fugitive have? No, we should go to the Ministry to surrender ourselves, it can only ever work to our advantage."

[horus42]

"Well, the Muggle world's a damn sight better than living in the wilderness. Although if we can find the right materials and have enough time, I could craft us some new wands. It's me profession you see, Mr. Lenacre." Tiberius inclines his head respectfully in Gabriel's direction.

"Turning meself in doesn't sound like an appealing option, but being a fugitive for life isn't any better. Perhaps going to the Ministry is a better option." He sighs and looks down at his feet, images of his crime flashing in his memory. He regretted going too far, not knowing when to stop. If he had had slightly better self-control, McBride would still be alive, and he wouldn't be in this mess.

[MrE]

Gabriel stared darkly at the girl: your opposition to the ministry is in fact a crime - who did this girl thin she was? Gabriel nodded along, aware that she had power over them whilst she held the one: if only he hadn't been disared by those Brigands!

"Fine: we'll head to the ministry," Gabriel muttered, the lie rolling off his tongue quickly. "But if those Brigands are around I want a wand sooner rather than later."

[Raunchel]

Lenacre was staring at her. Did he know? Probably not. It could just be his completely unjustified hatred of the ministry. "Then let's go, although I don't think that it will be a good thing to go actively after wands. That will require us doing dangerous things, things that will make the negotiations with the ministry a lot harder. After all, they won't be given freely. But if the brigands return, and we happen to acquire some from them, it would be a waste to just leave them there."

[MrE]

Gabriel was now holding his right hand close to his chest, unable to ignore the biting pain of his damaged finger. But despite the pain he needed to focus on Alice. The witch seemed to have some sort of ulterior motive: first she suggested they should acquire wands, but now that he was going along with her plan she said they couldn't get them! And her haste to return to the ministry was rather curious... But Gabriel couldn't put the pieces together, nor prevent her acting as she would whilst she held the wand, and therefore nodded.

"I see your point," he sighed heavily. "But You better make sure you're watching carefully: I don't want to get knifed because you're too busy playing with your broom. And you can keep this guy with you, I want to be able to dodge if we get attacked again."

"Where even are we?"

[horus42]

Tiberius' face very nearly becomes a scowl, but he decides to remain polite. There was no use antagonizing Lenacre. "I'm not exactly sure where we are, but I'd say still in northern Scotland. Once we get these studs out, we can Disapparate to anywhere we need to go, so that should be our first priority."

[Hazuki]

Mounting their brooms, or sharing one in the case of Tiberius, the trio of wizards begin their stealthy voyage further inland, in search of a village that will either let them know where they are, have some clothes to share or steal, or both. They stick low to the forests and the mountains, the darkness of the Scottish night keeping them easily shrouded, but not particularly so should there be anything or anyone out for their blood that night.

The sky is still dark as they glide along the mountains, until they manage to spot a small village buried deep along a large hill, with a dirt path leading through the forest to a river. There seem to be about twenty buildings in total for the sleepy village, the particularly notable ones including a chapel that sits at the center, a closed bakery, as well as a grocer's and tailor's, identified as such only by the small wooden signs that hang outside. In a few hours, the sun will rise, and for the moment, there doesn't seem to be much activity in the town identified as Shielbeg.

[Raunchel]

Alice lands just outside the village. She feels tired, very tired, but she can't stop. She can't trust these two. Especially not Lenacre. He after all is a dangerous agitator. But first she needs clothes. They don't have money so clothes will have to be stolen. Something that she has no experience with whatsoever, but these people are just muggles, so it can't be that hard. If anything bad happens she can always shift the blame onto the others. "I say that we go into the village, find a house, silence ourselves and take some clothes. Of course, the issue is that we don't know their sizes so we will have to look carefully. I propose first going to that shop, it's a tailor's and they might have something useful there."

[Sir Dancealot]

Just as Alice finishes her statement, there comes a sound like thunder, if wind could sound like thunder that is, and a brilliant flash of light. There, somehow, in the exact center of the group a woman regally stand. Admittedly, she was bound and gagged and rather effectively tied up, yet she was still able to have a regal bearing, which may or may not impress any of the three around her. Blinking, the woman look around as a small ball rolls out from the crook of her elbow.

[Raunchel]

Alice looks at the newcomer, the wand in her hand. Another prisoner, appearing as if from nowhere. She would swear that she had seen the woman before, but she can't recall where exactly. She wonder, who is she and how did she get here? She has to know and a flick from the wand removes the gag: "Good night, madam, might I ask how you came to arrive here?"

[MrE]

This night was getting weirder and weirder... He was pretty uncomfortable entering a muggle settlement without magic, but when this new woman flashed into being (likely via a portkey), Gabriel stumbled away in shock.

He waited for her response to Alice's question and for her to identify herself, but as he stumbled he made certain to snatch the small orb from the floor- if it was a portkey it might work both ways...

[Sir Dancealot]

The woman works her jaw for a moment, then frowns at the small ball that had fallen from the crook of her elbow. "Ah. Zat is much better." She replies in accented English. "I do so hate zat spell." She looked over the gathered people and raised an eyebrow, "I could ask ze same of all of you!"
Helps when my dumb ass actually ****ing subscribes.