Let Belit take down the corrupt captain

There was one saintess who'd been eager to take out Mertz this whole time. She was practically chomping at the bit to get out there and do her thing. "Just say the word, Vin, and I'll put one in his leg! Not between the eyes, cause, you know, we might need him for something. But I could, ya know?" Belit bragged, keeping her voice to a whisper despite her excitement. "I could hit him right there, even if he was dancin' around like Bangaal!"

You didn't want that image in your head, but you did want her to take care of Mertz for you.

"Aye aye!"

Belit sounded gung-ho about it, but you wondered if she'd really be able to take the shot. She still had to crack open the casket to get out, and furthermore, she didn't even have her bow drawn or her arrow nocked yet. You'd seen proof that she was capable of making some near-supernatural shots before, as part of her power as a saintess, but could she honestly make the shot before they spotted her?

The missing component you hadn't accounted for was Belit's skill as a thief, navigating through stealthy situations just like this one. The lid of the cask slid off without so much of a sound, enough for her to pop out horizontally from the barrel and stick her torso out. She went for silence rather than speed, loosing her bow and then pulling an arrow from the quiver without anything to alert the guard captain standing within line of sight.

Belit pulled back her elbow with slow steadiness, then launched the arrow. It didn't go for his eyes as she'd threatened. Instead, it went for the the spot where his bone armor couldn't cover, the joint behind his knee that needed to remain uncovered for the sake of mobility. You saw the arrow embed in the man's leg, and in a moment, he was down on his knee, howling with pain.

"Baaaagh! Son of a bitch! They're here!" Mertz howled, reaching to grab the arrow, just as another his his wrist, pinning it into the wood of the wine shelf and knocking him against it. "Shit! Do something, dammit!" He struggled to free himself as a few more arrows rained down (non-lethally) upon him, pinning his cape to the shelf. The bottles thrashed as he raged against it.

The imposter saintess immediately turned her attention from Mertz to your group with cold indifference. "You'd waste your advantage removing him from the equation? Your sense of priorities needs adjusting," the mystery woman chuckled, twirling a parasol over her shoulder as she approached.

In the low lantern light, you could make out the woman's features more clearly. She appeared to be part of the nobility herself, or at least, she was dressed like the type of dandy such an upbringing tends to foster. Her attire was all white and lace, with a somewhat shorter skirt than you'd typically picture someone of her class wearing. Her long stockings drew attention to the curves of her legs. You noticed she was dressed in high heels, which didn't seem well suited to moving around in this dirty cavern, nor for the fight she was about to endure.

Her hair did give her the look of a saintess-- long, silver, and straight, framing her face evenly and falling all the way to her back. Her expression seemed persistently frozen in a cocky smile, with pink lips curled into an amused smile and serene, blue eyes.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Dame Nil Riiche, a lady of the royal capital. And you... you're one of the squires, aren't you? Here along with two saintesses. New to the job, are you?" the woman chuckled, raising one gloved finger to her lips. "What a time to join. The saintesses as they exist now are about to go extinct, and here you are trying to court them."{if Amulette = True}

"Extinct? Egregiously early estimation, I say. My best years are yet ahead!" Amulette quipped in response, as her dark features emerged from the casket. "But your days are duly numbered, you dubious dandy! When we've wiped the wine cellar with your white finery, perhaps I'll place those periwinkle panties over yours onto that pretty pate of yours, then parade you about the point?"

"You'll be the one humiliated, once you realize you've defected to the wrong side, dear Amulette," the false saintess laughed, covering her mouth with one hand.{endif}{if Liens = True}

"That parasol of hers. I don't think it's the source. Her magic is coming from somewhere else. It's not normal. Not elvish. Not human. I don't think she is either," Liens mused, biting on the thumb of her glove as she crawled out from the barrel to stand behind you. "Might also be related to how she contaminated the wine. Haven't seen any poison here. Don't smell any. It's something different." She raised her goggles for a moment, then narrowed her eyes. "What? I don't know what the hell you are. Demon?"

"Guess again, sweetie," Nil shrugged, smiling more broadly. "You may be a genius back home, but there are forces at play here you couldn't possibly understand."{endif}{if Bangaal = True}

"Hmmm... she is not a human, nor a demon? She's not a djinn either! Just what are you, Riiche Nil?" Bangaal commented, as she swished around the barrels, leaving a trail of red smoke in her midst. "Whoever she is, that strange magic of hers is no match for chaos magic, I wager! Simply give the command, VinLavender!"

"Oh, hush. You djinns have high opinions of yourselves, hm? The time of saintesses is nearly over and, needless to say, the time of djinns is far, far past," the false saintess sighed, shrugging and shaking her head, surprisingly aloof.{endif}{if Rosary = True}

"I can't believe you would tarnish the name of saintesses like this! It is not for us that I weep, but for our lord, Geod above! A creature created in His divine image, feigning some part in his prophecy to take advantage of innocent people... such sacrilege!" Sister Rosary cried, stepping behind your formation and raising her hands for the sake of a shielding prayer. "Do you not feel any love for Geod in your heart?"

"Geod is the one person I owe the least, my dear Sister Rosary. But I hope you will see him in the afterlife, where you can hold him accountable for dragging you into the terrible fate you're now facing." Nil grinned, holding her parasol aloft and half shading her face. "Now, you shall quake in your cotton stockings, poor and powerless."{endif}

"Hey, enough from the peanut gallery already! In case you missed it, I'm the one that just turned your man into a pincushion! Ya just gonna keep actin' like I ain't even here?!" Belit complained, readying another arrow and aiming it at the saintess. "Just because you're dressed prettier than he was doesn't mean I won't pin you up just the same way!"

Belit immediately made good on her threat, launching off another arrow. The woman flourished her parasol and placed it between the arrow and herself-- an ineffective form of defense, certainly. Only, instead of piercing the parasol, the arrow seemed to glance off, sailing uselessly off into the dark.

The ranger clicked her teeth. "Magic. Gotta be!" she cursed under her breath. "This ain't gonna be easy."