[Poggio]

So this was Archer.

That only left five more players on the battlefield for her to meet. It was a pity such a warrior stood in her way. Low down and cut throat a pirate maybe, there was still heart. The stark contrast between the ashen skin and the black sleeve hugging her, arm made the young Archer look rather phantasmagoric. The aura from the slender woman did not match what Mary felt in the palace. Her mind found a quandary of other ideas to distract her. Hippolyte? … no legendary Amazons would be larger than life.

She led the woman a few paces down the walkway as another answer formed. But thinking of the petite woman as some sort Robin hood suited Mary the best. They were kindred spirits in the pursuit of treasure. She turned their joint promenade in the direction of Mr. Kite. The advantages of knowing their enemy far out weighed the element of surprise.

As they strolled, Mary drew in the crisp morning air and this time she spoke slowly, attempting to enunciate over her usual drunken drawl. “Ber-zerkur”

Her steps stalled when she came to find Mr. Kite had disappeared. It seemed that Mr. Kite had no interest in the dangers he faced. She had led him to the epicenter of the war, and he grew sullen. She investigated for weaknesses against the impenetrable fortress that held their treasure, and he simply vanished. In his place was small tattered pieces of weather aged paper. Fool. Fool as good as dead, before the battle is won. Her life was too entwined with Mr. Kites to leave him alone. “I apologize. I want’d t' introduce ye t' me Mast’r Swabbie. But I must findeth 'im first.”

Mary slipped away from Archer. Her master’s absence thwarted her chance to sweep the young archer into a dashing display of modern culinary skills of which Mary had desire for. Growling, the pirate searched for an alternative when she recalled the weight in her pockets. The trinket must have been worthless to Mr. Kite. Someone else would find valuable. Valuable enough that Mary need not leave without some degree of manners.

She bide the Archer to wait. In moments with her strange accented words, Mary was able to find a trinket merchant, intrigued by the golden flask enough to barter it for one of its finer pieces of jewelry. She selected one that seemed all too well fitting within the french extravagance the grail set for them. Mary made her way back to the Archer, she fell into a bow as customary.

Turning the hand over, she brought it to her lips, leaving a slight ruby lip stain on Archer. “When we meet again,-”She pushed the lace of her forget-me-not against her wrist. “ I shall kidnap ye. 'n we shall live our second lives without folly ‘r careth o' wishes” Releasing the Archer, but not before leaving the same mark upon the woman’s cheeks, Mary disappeared.