Tunnel into the Waterways

2013-07-08T04:30:21Z

Rebecca: Created page with 'The streetears were right about one thing: there are the old waterways that still run under the city from the ruins of Rabanastre to Emberstrand, and some would have it clear int…'

The streetears were right about one thing: there are the old waterways that still run under the city from the ruins of Rabanastre to Emberstrand, and some would have it clear into the Nalbina Fortress if one were to travel far enough. The stonework is ancient, from prior to the Galtean Alliance, back when the countries of Archades and Rozarria were mere city-states. A set of underground waterways meant to link important cities long forgotten, to create a waterway network for transporting goods and people.

Then it became forgotten with the advent of airships. The things that took over the skies, gave freedom to all, and forgot the waterways and the architects who built them to last forever.

The sounds that echo around show that someone, or something has not forgotten. The sound of scraping on ancient rock, muffled cacophany of voices echoes down the waterway from points unknown.

Carrying a torch to light the way, a tall, armored white wolfkin makes his slow way into the Waterways below the city. While the streetears are known to occasionally inflate their mutterings, and the Mist makes the subterranean passages a gamble to explore on the best of days... Some things bear investigating. Shield at the ready, he waits at the entrance chamber. Adventurers are thick on the ground in Emberstrand, after all, and no sense going alone when he could be one of a number.

Thud, clank, thud, the heavy drops of steel boots echo. The tall Lunarian making his way to the undercity. A massive two handed warhammer strapped to the back of the seven foot tall man. Where most of his kind are generally lanky and tall, this man has muscle on him. At least it seems to be that way by the shape and design of his plate armor. Coming to a stop, the only way the man could be stealthy, and listens for a moment. Hmming as he glances around to see who else is there. A nod to Dietrich, "Seems we be havin some rats digging a mite much."

For some reason, Hoku has been sent down to check out the noise. Maybe because no one at the Hunter's Guild wants to deal with her because of her blunt and simplistic mindset. One way or another, the Sanuye finds herself boredly examining her surroundings, filled with no awe, paused by no splendor. She is evidently uncomfortable with being underground, showing it with a constant firecatdog frown and visible tension in her gait. She stops when she runs into the others she was sent to meet up with, and sits down in wait. Her lidded eyes give cursory examinations of the two large men that ends an unenthusiastic nod to the both of them. She doesn't say a word, but neither does she blink very much, even as she turns her head to look down the passageway, waiting for others.

Bare feet follow Maraxus' iron boots down into the waterway, as Tristania descendes to join those going to conduct an investigation. She carries no light, apparently quite content to allow others to supply that. "When rats gnaw at the roots of your grove," she fairly hisses, "You *exterminate* them without mercy." Is she smiling? Hard to tell, with that mask. She rests one hand on the knobkerrie hanging from her waist, little more than a femur from some beast (or man?) that it is. Her eyes flick from person to person, finding few enough that she reckognizes. It will have to suffice.

Bare feet follow Maraxus' iron boots down into the waterway, as Tristania descendes to join those going to conduct an investigation. She carries no light, apparently quite content to allow others to supply that. "When rats gnaw at the roots of your grove," she fairly hisses, "You *exterminate* them without mercy." Is she smiling? Hard to tell, with that mask. She rests one hand on the knobkerrie hanging from her waist, little more than a femur from some beast (or man?) that it is. Her eyes flick from person to person, finding few enough that she reckognizes. It will have to suffice.

A chance to explore ancient underground waterways? How could Grumm resist even is theres a chance of something trying to eat him down there that's causing the noise. Slung on his back is another new round wooden shield, this one half red and half yellow with a black malboro on the front. Instead of the more common torches he wears a mining helmet, basic metal cap, with a chinstrap and a lip sticking out of the front. Attached just above the lip is a small lantern that focuses the light in a beam ahead of him. He walks over to the group, with a broad smile. "Excitin'."

"Rats are also creatures of nature. One need not exterminate them, kupo. Simply drive them out."
-
There are many reasons for a Hunter to come down into waterways so vast. Treasure perhaps. There are many lost goods in the world of the underground. Or money and fame, as many come down to claim as Hunters. The Swordsmoogle Kupor is not one of those Hunters. He is efficient, mindful, and cheap. Sounds in the waterways in this time of war can mean only two things. The army wishes to advance through a stealthy avenue. Or the war has awakened something that slumbers that must be taken care of. No matter. Both must be taken care of.
-
The area ahead of the gathering lights up as Kupor squeezes a small spell rock, making it light. Like a bomb fragment, but far less explosive. Expensive, but far more useful in a sewer. Across his back is slung a small pack of supplies. Chalk. Rope. He frowns at the sheer number of those who have gathered. Kupor is beginning to dislike large numbers.
-
He spots Zhgir. He points. "Do not explode anything, please. It will do great harm to the city. People will be upset." He turns towards to Grumm and bows at the waist. "You are experience in this way, kupo. Do you know where we must go?"

The light that does manage to come down from the storm grates casts an eerie look on the Garamsythe Waterways. Adventurers are always brave and willing to take on the challenge of examining something. The sounds echo from further down the tunnel, the water flowing through the aqueduct. The ground shakes briefly and the sound of scraping returns.

Dietrich's shield-hand rises, to point down the tunnel. "That way," he says quietly, turning to offers the others assembled a nod of greeting. "Good to see you all, friends... Though I imagine our quarry is something a touch more... determined... than sewer rats. Come. Let's see what there is to see." And with that, keeping his pace slow to allow the others time to catch up, Dietrich moves onward down the tunnel.

Maraxus humpfs to himself. "Rats, and be in need a good stomping." Reaching into a satchel and pulling out a torch of his own. "Lets be going." Glancing around to the others, "Aye." looking back over to Dietrich, starting to follow after him. The heavy boots sadly and clinks of his armor, breaking any possible attempt the group may have at stealth.

As very little attention has been placed on Hoku, she instead busies herself with scrutinizing the other party members. Kupor gets a curious squint. Zhgir gets a wary glance, as well as her shuffling a step or two away. Grumm gets a disinterested passover. Tristania gets a neutral stare that lasts awkwardly too long. Once they start moving, she remarks, "I break things. That is my skill," to the group in general, in that gruff but undeniably female voice.

"Chase them off, and they return." Tristania stares down at Kupor, gazing at him for a long moment from behind her mask. "When they return, they continue to gnaw. As they gnaw, the grove dies." She pauses, taking her knobkerrie from her belt, and slapping the business end against her palm. "Remember, small creature. Death is also part of nature." With a certain, grim satisfaction, the dryad resumes walking. She falls into step in a position behind Dietrich and Maraxus; death certainly is part of nature, and so it pays to stay behind the larger, tougher people.

Zhgir tries hard to push away the cloth he has gotten himself entangled with, whilst simultaneously holding off his satchel. "Wait, wait for Zhgir!" He calls out, as his head finally pushes into the open. He stares at Grumm and Kupor for a moment, reaching out with a finger towards the pair. "And explosions are in nature's way." The arachnid rappels back up to the darkness, shuffling after the leading group to the best of his ability.

Grumm shakes his head at Kupor. "I dun know these cavern. They's a good place fer shelter fer many creature so it hard to guess what problem is." His head swivels around, pointing the beam at many places along the walls. "Sound like summin diggin. No wit' pick but maybe claw or some machine." He follows along with the group, near the middle and frequently distracted by the architecture. "Is good work down here."

The gaze is met. Kupor's gaze is steady, unwavering, neutral. He does not appear intimidated, nor trying to intimidate. He simply looks from under his wide straw hat. "As is life, kupo."
-
The moogle follows in step. "There will be a place to put use to your skills when the time is right." He offers to Hoku, not admonishing as his slight tone implies to Zhgir. Kupor presses his hand to his face and takes a deep breath as Zhgir implies. Perhaps some sort of leash. No. Steady. Walk the right path. He can learn.
-
Maybe.
-
He nods to Grumm. "Then keep your ears open, kupo."

The ground shivers again as the adventurers move down the passageways. The scraping is getting louder as the adventurers go down the path. Cockroaches, rats, and smaller vermin scatter out of the way of the adventurers, but it grows darker in the dimness, the only thing appearing to light the way is the Sanuye's tail flame. The architecture is impressive and ancient, complete with a series of carved signs in pre-Galtean language.

"If only I'd studied my languages better," Dietrich murmurs, touching the edge of one of the carvings. "Mmn. Perhaps I'll return..." Ears prick up, as the sounds grow louder, and the wolfkin turns to the rest of the party. "Perhaps it'd be wisest if we made our approach along the sides of the passage." Nodding to Maraxus. "Sir, if you, Sir Grumm, and the lady could stick to that side... I, Ser Moogle, and the Lady Sanuye, to this. Friend Zhgir?" he says, addressing the shadows above them. "If you'd be kind to slip ahead and have a look as we make our approach?"

Maraxus stops a moment, to look over some of the signs. Shaking his head, "I be old, but tis is far older. Yet why be people wishin to hide from dah moons warm shadow." Shaking his head slowly as he turns to continue on further, "Iffin deh be trying to get a route deh almost be done, else deh be diggin for something else." Frowning a bit as holds up his torch and grumbling, "Shoulda brought a lantern." Nodding over to Dietrich as he moves over to the indicated side.

Hoku stays at the center of the group, though venturing to the suggested position as Dietrich organizes the group. She does not notice the benefit her tail has to the others. She stays a little further ahead than the more squishy of the group, however. The signs on the walls are nothing but scribbles to Hoku. She regards the writing for a mere few seconds with utter incomprehension on her face, and returns her attention to more important matters, like watching and listening for dangers. She's momentarily distracted by the disagreement between Tristania and Kupor, rumbling with impatience.

"I am called Tristania." The Dryad nods once to Dietrich, a motion punctuated by the long beak on her mask, before she moves to the side of the tunnel that was indicated. She, too, pauses here and there to examine the wall carvings, but unlike Dietrich she passes no comment. Her gaze flicks about, as she looks and listens to the sounds the echo through the tunnel. "I have no experience in caves," she admits, directed to Maraxus. "I hope that you do."

"Zhgir, Zhgir?" Comes the voice from somewhere above. And then, with disturbing speed, the arachnid plops down in front of Dietrich. "Friendship punch." He states, then offers his fist the wolfkin. "Trade scents later." He adds after as he points at Dietrich with his fist turned finger, before disappearing back up onto the darkness; the arachnid planning to put his well-versed sense of dark and miserable places into use.

Grumm nods and unslings his shield, following Marduke to the other side. "There many riches inna ground that people know and many more that mos' dun. I can' say wha's here, but maybe the builder miss summin. Or it could just be summin making a home." His walking slows for a bit as he takes a good look around.

The light rock Kupor grasps in his hand becomes a sphere of light that hardly penetrates the dark. Kupor frowns. He presses his hands to the rock, squeezing it, rubbing it. But it does not shed further darkness. He nods once in agreement with Deitrich. "Kupo," he ascends, taking a light leap over the water to stand just behind the armored wolf. He pitches his voice low, "We should be silent, kupo." He should be able to tune Maraxus out. Probably.
-
He considers. He can plan for the best, or... "And watch the spider warily, kupo. If there is danger, he is most likely to summon it first or run away from it first." One must learn to use others to their greatest advantage.

The ground shakes before going silent. There's the muffled sounds again, this time clearer. "...kinna dig further," comes the muffled voice down the passageway. There's a whining down the passage that winds down, and soon the sounds of grating metal on stone are heard.

Dietrich's torch is lifted, as thogh to call a halt... then the wolfkin sets the flaming brand on the ground, easing his sword out of its scabbard. "Ready, friends," she says, voice low. "Close enough to hear, is close enough to be heard." Keeping his own tread as smooth as he can manage, he continues to creep down the side of the passage, ears alert and tail curling upward, anticipating the enconter to come.

Hoku doesn't make a lot of sound as it is, having pawpads like she does. She starts to take up a slow, feline stalking gait, however, when Dietrich gives his warning. The Sanuye woman keeps her senses peeled for anything she might recognize, while maintaining the place in the group she has been assigned to. She sniff at the air, obviously regretting it when the ancient air down here makes her face twist as if she's about to sneeze.

Zhgir continues to crawl up ahead of the group, staying to the ceiling as much as possible, but dropping down if that was what he was forced to do. And, despite the natural inclinations of all arachnids to spontaneously burst into a friendship song, he does remain quiet and instead, attempts to move stealthily close enough to figure out what was going on. And fill that temporary curiosity, so he can move onto more important things.

Grumm taps Maraxus as the grating starts up again. "Tha's def'nitly a diggin' machine." With the number of close in combatants present he determines his best place is the second line and he holds position until theres some distance between the large armored man before following.

To no surprise to anyone, Kupor leaves his sword in his scabbard. He tucks the stone in underneath his wrap, stowing it underneath his tunic. The light extinguishes and wraps the moogle in darkness. "Be wary, kupo." He whispers. "It may simply be treasurehunters, or those who live underneath the streets."
-
As Hoku looks like she is going to sneeze, Kupor produces a small cloth and offers to hold it to her muzzle to muffle the sound. Once must be prepared for all situations, even allies without thumbs or hands. Or handkerchiefs.

Let's hope the Sanuye doesn't sneeze at the wrong time. "'ey, looks like th' drill punched through," comes a gruff voice, sounding as though wrought from the gravel of the Earth Mother. "Get th' rest o' the trash cleaned." There's a pause before orders are barked in an unmistakeable accent. "Of course, Senora!" comes the response to the order to clean. There's the sounds of picks and shovels working to clear away, and more tidbits of rocks cave into the passageway, opening the whole in order to make it wide enough for four men across to easily walk through. Throuh the passageway steps a short individual, armored to the teeth and wielding what appears to be a large bore drill. With the person are several others, bearing shovels and mines. "Looks like we're through, boys," the short one says.

"We'll not know what they're after," Dietrich says with a quiet sigh, "without asking or listening... Let's hope Zhgir's learned more than we, mh?" The wolfkin's shield comes up, augmenting the barrier he seems to make, between trouble and those behind him. Steadily he creeps on, eyes on the miners' weaponry, mindful that any tool can be a weapon in a pinch.

Maraxus was never one for stealth. It served its purpose, and revealed their enemies. "That accent, it is Rozzarian." It is all he says, it is also the only warning he gives to the others. He starts forward, no attempts to hide his approach. The heavy thudding of the boots picking up speed with each step. Maraxus is also armored to the teeth, wearing plate from head to toe. His heavy two handed war hammer coming up as he approaches the other armored man. No words offered, only the faint glow in the Lunarians eyes.

"What--" is all that Hoku gets out before Maraxus dashes ahead to begin the chaotic melee that was likely inevitable today. She looks startled, at first, but can only get swept up in the moment, bounding forward to advance on another of the mysterious group, trying to move as quickly as possible, claws scrabbling at stone and minorly impeding her progress.

Zhgir has learned so much more than the others; that is to say, being draped in a black flag is fine on paper, but spirits be damned does it get away. Fighting the cloth away for the nth away, the arachnid rappels down above the drill wielding individual. "But the exit is all the way over there," Zhgir helpfully points out, pointing in the direction where currently a seven foot tall lunarian and firetailed sanuye were rushing from. "Zhgir understands though. It's a big place!" He nods sagely.

Grumm stops as he hears the start of stone falling and raises the shield above his head. When the miners are seen he lowers it and watches, muttering to himself in dwarfish about having to wait for an inspection of the equipment. Keeping his distance, he watches and waits, prepared to support the others.

The moogle's hand comes up as he blocks Maraxus' path with a few nimble leaps, faster without the heavy armor to weigh him down. "Being Rozzarian is not a crime, kupo. It is not a reason for violence." So much violence in this city. Kupor sets his face. "Learn something of those you would fight, warrior. Use your mind, your ears, your eyes, before your weapon, or all you will have, kupo, is corpses."
-
His voice becomes hard. "Think before you fig-"
-
Then Zhgir acts. Today is REALLY not Kupor's day.

The armored soldiers next to the 'Senora' in a protective stance, using picks and shovels as means of weapons that are at the ready. The 'Senora' grumbles under her breath, similarly to Grumm, and hefts the drill in her hands, armored fingers reaching for the engine pull. "If'n it's a fight ye want, ye be crossin' agains' Hilgya Crystallode." So our mining engineer has a name after all. She pulls the string, letting the engine on the mining drill rev up. "Ain't be wantin' t' fight ye, but I've got a joob t' do."

"Your job, madam," Dietrich calls, striding toward the group, sword in hand, "seems to be at odds with Emberstrand's desire to remain a free state, does it not? Friends, let's at least attempt a peacable solution. If these good lads and ladies will throw down their weapons and surrender... Well. Then nobody will have to get hurt, will they? I must admit, madam, it's a far better option than a few of my friends seem to want to take."

Maraxus purshes right past the moogle, just offering him a glance, "Ye still be alive within that naive attitude of ye's?" Stepping forward and bringing down the hammer into the floor. The crack of rock sends shards in all directions. He leans into the handle as he grins over to the miners, "Aye it be odds. Tis why we be here. Ta ask ye kindle ta leave. Ye be seein, iffen if ye fight us here, we be winnin dis. We be knowin of dem tunnels and be having some friends be going ta get some splosives. Ye cann be be leaving, or ya cann be buried alive. ye choice." Keeping his grip around the handle of his hammer should they decide to attack.

Maraxus purshes right past the moogle, just offering him a glance, "Ye still be alive within that naive attitude of ye's?" Stepping forward and bringing down the hammer into the floor. The crack of rock sends shards in all directions. He leans into the handle as he grins over to the miners, "Aye it be odds. Tis why we be here. Ta ask ye kindle ta leave. Ye be seein, iffen if ye fight us here, we be winnin dis. We be knowin of dem tunnels and be having some friends be going ta get some splosives. Ye cann be be leaving, or ya cann be buried alive. ye choice." Keeping his grip around the handle of his hammer should they decide to attack.

Maraxus purshes right past the moogle, just offering him a glance, "Ye still be alive within that naive attitude of ye's?" Stepping forward and bringing down the hammer into the floor. The crack of rock sends shards in all directions. He leans into the handle as he grins over to the miners, "Aye it be odds. Tis why we be here. Ta ask ye kindle ta leave. Ye be seein, iffen if ye fight us here, we be winnin dis. We be knowin of dem tunnels and be having some friends be going ta get some splosives. Ye cann be be leaving, or ya cann be buried alive. ye choice." Keeping his grip around the handle of his hammer should they decide to attack.

Zhgir waves at the nearest soldier, muttering silently 'Hello, Friend Zhgir...' to the poor person whilst offering his fist to the man. Few of his other hands start to tug loose the black flag off his person. "Touring rats." He nods sagely; in response to the voiced question, and then looks curiously towards the tunnel.

Zhgir waves at the nearest soldier, muttering silently 'Hello, Friend Zhgir...' to the poor person whilst offering his fist to the man. Few of his other hands start to tug loose the black flag off his person. "Touring rats." He nods sagely; in response to the voiced question, and then looks curiously towards the tunnel.

"Myself and others, kupo," Kupor responds to Maraxus. But there is no violence yet. Kupor's tension eases. He is being judgmental. Harsh. He smoothes his face, closes his eyes, centers himself, and breathes. For a long moment, he breathes, before righting himself.
-
"That, kupo," Kupor answers Hoku, "is why one talks first." He steps forward once more. A little ahead of Maraxus and Tristania.
-
Just in case.

"Rally-Ho indeed, friend. I built' er." The dwarf steps forward, pushing past her compatriots. "You four, head back down the tunnel! Get reinforcement. I nay be likin' th' way things b' going." The drill whines as she revs it up. "I ain't gunna let y' hurt th' boys. But I hae a job t' do." The others start to back away, one giving voice to protest. "But, Senora! The General, he will take my head--" The dwarf cuts him off. "Better your head later than your balls now. Get goin'!" She turns back to the adventurers. Such a pitiful prospect against so many adventurers, but a determined individual nonetheless. The others, however, take off running down the drilled shaft.

"You seem a decent lady, madam Hilgya," Dietrich says, voice heavy. "Friends, if at all possible, see her captred alive. The Council will wish dearly to know the true scope of her 'job.' And if we can close the tnnel before reinforcements arrive..." Bright, silvery runes flare alight down the length of his sword, and with a flick of his arm flare outwards to settle around Hoku in a shimmering, hexagonal coccoon. "I think we'd all sleep better, if that could be managed."

Maraxus pulls up his hammer and tosses it over his shoulder with a humpf. "She already be given herself up." He offers and cracks a smile, "Letting yeself become prisoner now, tis brave, but commendable ta save ye boys. Honorable." One hand holding the hammer across his shoulder, the other reaching into his bag and glancing back to Grumm, "Lets lay what charges we have now, blow the tunnel up ahead." Pulling his hand out of his bag and starting to walk by the dwarf. The grip on his hammer ready, and a easy arc swing from his shoulder should the dwarf should she try anything. A look given to the dwarf implying she best put down her weapon if she is smart at all. A grease bomb in his other hand ready to slick the floor past the clearing.

It's quite clear that the dwarf is nefarious and that they're up to no good after the initial confusion, so Hoku doesn't even bother hesitating or speaking past that point. She doesn't even notice the spell directed at her. She lunges for the dwarf woman immediately, trying to weave around her mechanical drill and tackle her to the ground in a move that is nothing but feral, sharp claws held outward, and mouth snapping forward to try to get a mouthful of her shoulder in a vicious bite. But it's not a quick bite, she tries to hold on tight to her target.

Tristania will not be requiring her knobkerrie, it seems. No. There are others here for such brutish matters. The dryad carefully slips the weapon back into her belt, and withdraws instead a ragged looking doll, made from burlap. "The chance has been given to bare your throat to the carnivore, and live," she hisses, as she produces a fair sized nail carved from bone, with a small turtoise shell at the top. "Take your time, and think about it." She raises the nail up high, before driving it down hard into the doll; a ripple of magic flickers through the air from doll to dwarf, and the spell is cast. [Slow]

Zhgir, for his own part, looks utterly panicked as the soldiers start to head back towards the tunnel. "Wait, wait, wait for Zhgir...!" He calls out after the fleeing soldiers, as he finally finishes stretching out his flag. With a firm flap, the canvas stretches across the air - and then the arachnid lets go, letting the black cloth flutter in the air as he darts towards the tunnel.

"Tha's fine craf'smanship. Ya min' if I give it a try?" Grumm continues walking forward and slings the shield on his back. "I can 'spect yer dedication ta ya job, but ya have ta unn'erstan' that we can' let ya unnermine the city like this, 'less ya have permit o' the council." He sighs and shakes his head slowly. "I'm sorry for what we need ta do but I have swear ta protect the city. Dun take much ta collapse where is unsupport." It would appear that time for talking has finished and he rushes forward, trying to get past the miner and point out spots for charges.

With the quick act of Hoku, Kupor must do something to end this as rapidly as possible. He leaps forward in two quick flips, pushing towards the attacked dwarf. He makes a swift simple kick, aimed for the drill to knock it loose. "Please, miss, kupo. I wish no blood to come of this. Simply come with us."

It can be amazing how much strength is in such a tiny little frame. Especially when the frame has been lugging around the mining drill. The female dwarf is tackled to the ground, a blood curdling scream of pain ripped loose from her throat, one of her shoulders gripped in a vice of jaws, but her other hand is free. The drill is kicked free of her hand, freeing it! She brings the hand, armored in hardened steel, back in a fist and slams home to Hoku's head, trying to punch the Sanuye off. The flurry of blows becomes slowed as Tristania's magic seeps into the dwarf's bones, dragging her to slow movements. The soldiers back in the tunnel hear the scream and continue running, not wanting to let the 'Senora's' sacrifice be in vain as they attempt to dodge through the rocks of the tunnels. The 'boys' have a head start down the rabbit warren of tunnels.

"Zhgir!" Just catching the spider's scuttling down toward the passage, the wolfkin looses a short, annoyed rumble. "Sir Moogle, Lady Tristania... please, stay and ensure Madam Hilgya's surrender. You sir," he says, nodding to Maraxus, "and... oi! Master Grumm! Right behind you! If for nothing else, to keep that *bloody* spider out of more trouble..." With that, he takes off after Grumm down the tunnel, armored boots slamming heavily into the rock with each long, loping pace.

Maraxus does not glance back to the fallen dwarf. He has other business on his mind, tossing the grease bomb down the exposde tunnel. "Find them and get ready to blow the supports master dwarf." Maraxus offers glancing back to Grumm, "A temporary solution, but it will give us the time we need to flood the tunnels." Seems he has something in mind for a longer lasting solution. A touch of a dark look on his face, "Can dwarves swim?" Staring for this satchel and then throwing out a arm to stop Dietrich, "Our spider friend can make his way back, or he can sneak his way out. I suspect he is attempting to find out where the tunnels come out on the other end for us. Let him." Before reaching for his bag again to pull out a lighter, ready to set the grease on fire should reinforcements come.

The impact to Hoku's head causes a gruff and pained noise muffled by the shoulder, easily bruised by the punch, the fist even breaking her skin at her brow and making her screw her eye shut on that side. But she soon steels her grip once more... and then tries to lift the dwarf woman, and leap backward, whirl in the air, and /slam/ her into the floor in a feral piledriver, but somewhat clumsy about it thanks to a lack of practice. Thankfully, the Sanuye's frame is strong and is unlikely to have trouble lifting a dwarf. But that's all she can manage before she staggers away, releasing her toothy grip. "Hrrk." Yeah, that hurt more than it looked.

Well. One thing at a time. "I will stay, and not attempt to save the spider from his likely death," she agrees, as she tucks the doll back where it came from, with the turtle nail still driven firmly through its chest. Her knobkerrie returns to her hand, and she saunters leisurely towards the dwarf (the female one). "If you will come with us awake," she pronounces, "Then you shall come with us asleep." She raises the knobkerrie, brandishing it high in the air (or at least as high as the passageway permits), before bringing the weapon down hard, aiming for the woman's skull. It is not a blow meant to kill; rather, a blow meant to usher her into a dark and lengthy unconsciousness. Assuming she can pull it off, of course.

Plans are nice and friendship is magic. That fleeting thought soon vanishes from the arachnid's mind as Zhgir continues to make his way down after the fleeing men. It was not that difficult track the direction they were headed for the arachnid; it was much harder not to break his neck while doing it. And still stay stealthy. His plan was to follow the group out the tunnel, and hopefully sneak wherever with the undoubtable commotion the men's return would cause.

Grumm slows to a walk as he looks around the tunnel, searching for anything he can use to collapse it. "Needda fin' a good spot, one that will cause a good cave in." He looks back at Marduke with an eyebrow raised. "No normal, why? Maybe one that live on the surface for long time." Back to searching he looks in any crevices or areas off to the side for supplies. Stoping completly, he at the walls, then ceiling of the tunnel. "This look like good spot." Cupping his hands around his mouth, he yells down the tunnel. "Zhgir, come back."

Three on one against the hearty dwarf. Kupor slides back from the dwarf and nods to Deitrich. "Kupo," he agrees, "I do not know what madness takes him, but take some care." Kupor pulls the sword from his back, leaving it in the scabbard, tied. "His mind may be the death of himself and us one day, kupo, but I will not let it be so as long as I am near. We will not drown him for his own foolishness, kupo."
-
The swordsmoogle tenses, gauging Tristania's attack. No, it is a glancing blow, made to knock out, should Hoku's impressive strength prove not adequate. Kupor holds his own wrapped sword at bay. He will not use it unless he has to, but he is poised to swing it should either of his companions prove unable to take her down.

The Sanuye's piledriver isn't as hard as one might think, but it certainly knocks the breath out of the dwarf, leaving her to lay on the ground to gasp. Her movements are slowed from magic, and her hands raise up to attempt to fight off the club meaning to sap her of consciousness. However, the blow is not blocked in time, and the knobkerrie smacks into the dwarf's hard head just above the eye. A dwarvish curse dies on the woman's lips as she is knocked unconscious. Back in the tunnel, however, the others have continued their run at breakneck speed, one managing to trip and fall before scrambling back to their feet again. There's no sign of noise at the tunnel, meaning reinforcements haven't been gotten yet.

"ZHGIR!" Dietrich roars down the tunnel, "RETURN, ELSE YOU MISS YOUR VICTORY MEAL!" Looking down at Maraxus' hand, then up, and to the dwarf, the wolfkin pinches the base of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. "Five minutes, we give him. Then, collapse the tunnel, and pray he's as cunning as he is foolish.

Maraxus nods to Dietrich, "If he be comin back, dah value of the other side exit be valuable ta." Shaking his head and noding to the dwarf, "set em good dwarf, five minutes, given us time ta get out to." Flicking the lighter in his hand and snapping it on. He glances back to the armored dwarf and shakes his head, "Courages she be. Tie her up, I got some cords iffin ye need it." Engineers, never know what they have on them. Before he looks down the passage again, carefully watching and waiting. "We leave in three, need to be clear our selves, and she be heavy ta drag."

The Sanuye woman doesn't have much capacity to do much but sit around looking dizzy, looking dumbly at the others as they discuss their plan of action, and then down at the unconscious dwarf. Considering this to be a victory, she attempts a howl of triumph, which wavers some, and forces her to shake her head firmly in a vain attempt to get her senses back. Being punched in the head by a dwarf appears to have dizzied her some.

The masked dryad stands menacingly over the dwarf woman, knobkerrie raised in preparation for another swift strike; but it would appear that the desired effect has been achieved. Tristania straightens, and hmmphs softly, giving the dwarf a nudge with her foot, to be sure. She returns her weapon to its place, ebfore casting her eyes about; the drill, where it has fallen, is retrieved. Grumm, however, has wandered off. "Curious," she mutters, as she turns the device over in her hands. "The short one with the beard will want it. I shall see that he receives it."

It is sometime, four minutes and thirty seconds later, when Zhgir pops out of the darkness. "Zhgir?" He asks as he crawls out - bandages all the much worse for wear and the arachnid more greasy, but intact for the time being. "Odd rats for the season." He mutters as he rejoins the group.

"Cunning or no, he seems ta have a gift fer survive." Grumm nods and goes back to his search, finding a crate in a small offshoot. It takes a bit to pry the lid off with his axe and he quickly runs back to his chosen spot, holding the crate out to Maraxus. "I think I fin' summin. How do they work?" He sets the crate down and pulls out a chage in each hand, looking closely at them. Putting them back he grabs a nearby pick, slamming it quickly into the wall, making holes on each side for them.

"Five." Kupor takes the cord. "And I will carry her myself if necessary, kupo. I am willing to take the pain of moving her for the extra two minutes." He begins to tie her up efficiently. He has done such things before.

The dwarf is thankfully out of things, but she seems to weigh a small ton in full plate. As the others start to rig the tunnel with explosives, there's still no hint of reinforcements yet, but there's the faint hint of a whining drill, much bigger than the one the dwarf was wielding, but it's moving away, further into the tunnels. The epxlosives rigging goes without a hitch, ready to be discharged.

"We'll need to warn the Council," Dietrich says, waving the dwarf, the spiderkin, and the Lunarian back towards the rest of the group. "If *this* is how Rozarria wages war... seems we'll be needing to stay on our toes."

Maraxus helps set the charges without a word, having a idea of how to do it. Not a master of any sort, but knows enough about explosives to get by. He stays quiet, and after three minutes he glances to the others, "Two minutes." Which is a minute and a half before Zhgir shows back up. He turns around walks over to the fallen dwarf, grabs a foot, and starts dragging her out. "Moogle, she be wearing heavy armor, ye would na be able tah carry her. I canna not either." Nope the poor dwarf will have a few brusies when she wakes up. A glance to Dietrich, "Blow one tunnel, deh will make another. We flood dem, only way. We have a river, plenty of water." His voice flat.

"Is it wise to risk flooding *all* of the tunnels?" Tristania has left the guarding of the unconscious dwarf -- who will likely be in such a state for some time -- to Kupor, for now, so she may rejoin the others further down the tunnel where they are setting explosives. Afterall, he seems to be quite capable of keeping things alive. "Flooding out your groves' roots is just as bad as permitting rats to gnaw them. Worse, in my experience." She now takes the opportunity to present the drill to Grumm, once he is ready. "I believe the term for this is 'spoils of war'," she murmurs.

Grumm mostly just watches as the charges are set, only pointing out the best places. "I can no be sure how much will collapse an' we need ta get out o' here." He runs back to the rest of the group. "Quick, we have lil' time!" His eyes go wide at the possibilty of actualy having the drill and he glances at the other dwarf. "I....I'm no sure I should." He takes the drill anyway, cradling it in both arms, looking at it with a broad smile. "Maybe I just keep it safe."

It's a good thing the explosives are set to go off in a few minutes as it gives people time to get out. One thing is for certain: Rozarria is definately involved, and the first violent act has been a proactive one by Emberstrand. The adventurers make it to a safe distance with their captive just as the explosive charges go off, causing the tunnel to collapse and the ancient architecture above to shake and shiver before ancient dust filters down like a misty rain. All falls silent, the echoes escaping further down the Garamsythe Waterway.
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Whisper War

2013-07-08T02:36:36Z

Rebecca:

Personal Effects

2013-06-20T22:37:23Z

Rebecca: Short added

'''Personal Effects:'''

Two didn't make it back from the mission. Two letters of condolences that had to be handwritten to their families, two sets of Imperial Army benefits that had to be sent out from the quartermaster along with their personal belongings. Two trips that Ffam had to make by quick courier because it was his duty to his men.

There were few duties that could be passed on to another soldier of lesser rank. Ffam's sense of honor, duty, and dedication kept him from passing it to a lieutenant to deliver. His men were a tight-knit group, and he had led them since he was a raw cadet fresh from officer's training.

He listened to the report as it was given, feeling his gut tighten even as he remembered it. The locals had given more fight this time, defending the aerodrome. There had been a great deal of damage caused to the Emberstrand commercial port, and they would be forced to route traffic through their docks instead. Two dead, another suit disabled, and one person driven to berserk status that jeopardized the mission.

Dorsen had been eager to try his hand at the suit, having suggested the drop parameters for Operation Gysahl. The young mage assured even General Corlan of the success of a high altitude, low open drop using float spells to slow their descent into their target--his spell missed and failed to deploy, leaving him a dead man on impact.

Getzrik had a level head on her shoulders. The keyword was 'had'. The debrief from the others was something terrible. She'd been corrupted by the Mist after too much damage to the suit. He'd have to bring her belongings back to her elder brother and sister. But not her diary. He couldn't let that go back to them.

Something had been ticking behind her eyes since the last training exercise, something Ffam couldn't figure out. Getzrik faced General Corlan's niece and it came to a draw, leaving Getzrik to start trashing the barracks room in a post-Mist rage. He should have substituted her out, his guilty self whispered. He should have gone in her place.

Going through her diary had been a necessity--he had to ensure operational security on their part. Scribblings within of hearing whispers while in the suit, the whispers demanding her to take vengeance, to kill everything that breathed. It had her shaken at times, he read, but she wanted to be strong for her family ... and for him.

It was an extremely quiet relationship they held, only partaking on it when they were on leave and out of prying eyes. It was something they kept quiet and kept professional when it came to duty. It was definately not something to let back to her family.

Their effects were crated and were currently being loaded onto the fast courier. He snickered, trying to find a point of amusement in sending Getzrik's body home in a ship called the 'Galbana Lilly'. She hated the flowers, said they stunk when he first got them for her early in their relationship.

The trip to Archades would be short, but it gave him time to drop off his extra gear, things he didn't need and didn't want to be gone through. General Corlan had made unannounced visits more than a few times to check security, and to check that no one had grown too close to his niece.

Ffam checked his uniform for the last time. Nothing but the best would do for this task. His duffel had been tossed in with the rest of the things to be delivered back to Archades, including operational reports. As he approached the landing strip, his eyes widened in surprise. General Corlan and Lady Corana waited.

General Daschel Corlan gave Ffam such an unnerving smile, bordering on half-crazed. "Ah, Major Bunansa. So sharply pressed, I see. Seeing to officer duties, I take it?" His hand rested absently near his sidearm, gracing the trigger.

"Aye, sir," Ffam responded, coming to attention. "I've a duty to send their personal effects home to their families, and to see Getzrik's body home to her family, sir."

Corana snorted. "A failure, letting herself become corrupted by the Mist." She watched a muscle jump in Ffam's jaw, her irritating laughter ringing out once again. "Oh, Major, what's wrong? Surely you agree that she failed in her mission."

Ffam cleared his throat, keeping his face as neutral as possible. "I don't like to speak ill of the dead, my Lady."

"Such a dutiful man you are, Major. I have another duty I need you to perform," the General grinned. His eyes lit with insanity. "I need you to check your sidearm, Major. Go on."

Ffam's eyebrows drew down as he removed the long barreled gun from its holster. "I'm not certain I understand, sir?"

Daschel smiled, drawing his casually, thumb spinning the chambers. "It's an old game, Major. One they say was played before Archadia was but a city-state and part of the Galtean Alliance. A game of empires." He pointed, pulling the trigger.

Pain erupted in Ffam's stomach, blood staining the perfectly pressed uniform as he staggered back, his firearm raising in turn. "Sir...?"

Corana's laughter was cut short as another sharp bark erupted from the General's firearm, the side of the Galbana Lily splattered in crimson and gray. Her body dropped to the landing pad as he grinned to Ffam. "A pity, Major, but I need a scapegoat and a rallying point for the Archadian people. It isn't the first time a member of the Bunansa's was seen as a traitor, Ffamran."

Ffam struggled, staggering to the door of the airship. He raised his firearm, tremors in his hand, and fired.

The bullet slammed home in Corlan's shoulder, forcing him to drop the sidearm. "You only serve my ends, Bunansa. Congratulations, Major, on getting your Emperor completely sold on destruction of our enemies. I look forward to an encore."

Ffam's bloodied fingers grasped the door frame of the Galbana Lily, letting him stagger further in, his vision blurring at the bloodloss. No pilot, the ship was free of a pilot, of anyone. His word against General Corlan's. And the General would make it appear that he fled in disgrace after the operation, attempting to take sensitive information to the enemy, steal an airship, and assault both the General and Lady Corana, killing her in the process.

He fell three separate times, slipping on his own blood as he fell into the pilot's seat. The controls shimmered to life under his hands, the Galbana Lily bucking and shaking about him. His body trembled in time with the rest of the world, his head falling back against the seat.

Ffam's gaze looked to the seat that he thought was empty, catching the ethereal form of Getzrik. She smiled, reaching a hand out to touch his cheek. She whispered to him, his mind playing tricks on him. "We've been set up, Ffam." She shimmered and faded, her words echoing in his fading consciousness.

He had been set up. And how.

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Emperor's Edict

2013-06-20T22:36:14Z

Rebecca: Short added

Emperor's Edict:

Aldric Zemit Solider, Emperor of Archades, stared hollowly at the coffin brought before him. His eyes burned--he would not shed his tears publicly. His soon-to-be Empress Consort was dead, shot by a traitor. Another Bunansa traitor.

An announcement was to be made next month, giving the people hope that their Emperor was on the correct path of producing an heir. That path was long gone to him.

The Emperor rested his hands in his lap, looking to the man who had brought Corana's body back from the front lines. General Daschel Corlan had his arm in a sling, and the man looked remorseful. He could see the regret on his friend's face.

"Leave us," Aldric ordered the guards in the throne room. He rose from his throne, descending the stairs at a slow, controlled pace. The last of the guards left the throne room, leaving the Emperor and his friend with the casket.

There was an uncomfortable silence as Aldric's hands rested on the coffin. His throne room face evaporated, leaving a stricken expression. "Tell me," he commanded, his voice hoarse as he looked to his friend.

Daschel shook his head, voice quiet. "Sire ..." He cleared his throat. "The traitor had been planning this, from what our investigators can tell." His mind raced, reciting the lie he practiced for two days now. "We're missing several documents on the Mist Enhancement Device suits. And my niece is missing, as well. He's stolen an Imperial Fast Courier, the Galbana Lily. I'm not certain how long he'll live--he was gut shot when he took off."

Aldric brushed his fingers over the coffin in thought. "If he lives, I want every bounty hunter looking for him. Fifty thousand gil on his head if he's alive, Daschel. Half that if they bring me his corpse. I prefer him alive--he has much to atone for, Daschel."

"Of course, Sire." Daschel made to move, but stopped at his Emperor's raised hand. "Sire?"

Aldric looked to his friend's face, eyes burning with unshed tears. "Conquer by all means necessary. I'm tired of negotiating. They will see my peace and my rule, or there will be a smoldering wasteland." His lips pulled into an ugly smile. "Reinstate them."

It didn't take an explanation of who 'them' was. Daschel nodded sharply, bringing his fist to his heart in salute before striding to the door.

He wore a similar smile for different reasons.
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Operation Gysahl

2013-06-20T22:34:57Z

Rebecca: RP Log added

[RP] Ruy says, "It would appear that the operation is in motion, leaked though it may have been. Several objects have been seen falling from far above in the sky from a high-altitude airship, above the Aerodrome just off the Guild District...."

[Emberstrand]: Guild District
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The Guilds of Emberstrand gather here, a long wide square
cutting across the city from the bazaar down to the riverfront
widening out in the centre to form a rotunda. Filling the
centre of the square are seven tall crystal pillars, humming
with an unearthly music as they catch the wind.

The great guild houses are all as different as they are
imposing. The Hunter's Guild seems quite plain, situated on a
side street, a plain granite front with stained glass windows,
windows that display the great leaders of the clan, normally
in combat with a monster of some kind.

The Mage's guild is slightly more impressive, a series of
linked domes. Each one built from a different type of semi-
precious stone. Rising around the domes are a series of
towers. A tower for each school of magic, a tower of onyx,
white marble, red carmeline, lapis-lazuli for blue. It is
a beautiful building, the centre of magical learning and
regulation in the city.
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[Exits : [LV] La Verdadera Destreza Fencing School, [E] Bazaar, [S] Noble Quarter, [W] Promenade, [HG] Hunters' Guild, and [MG] Mages' Guild ]
[Players : Celeste, and Marduke ]
Archimedes has arrived.
Zhgir has arrived.
Ba'Naram has arrived.
Eleven has arrived.

Six figures descend from above, clearly having fallen--or jumped--from the airship that can barely be seen, skirting the clouds very far above any possible reprisal. Five of them are in close formation, but a sixth is drifting slightly to one side.

And it was such a good day for cooking, until something fell and caused the lizard to miss where he was going and trip over then knock his giant pot of noodles onto the floor, breaking the bowl and ruining his meal, which really makes him grumpy because that was a lot of coin which he lost. Grumbling and wiping the noodles off of his boots, the lizard hefts up his cleaver and stalks towards the scene, grumbling again. "Garlic, chopped fish, and noodles, and they ruin it. And me. Ghhn." The lizard hisses, stalking forward and growling.

It is often the summoner finds himself wondering the city, it is here he finds himself coming to a stop on his walk. Mostly because this happens to be along his way heading home. Glancing up he watches for a moment as the figures are coming down the ropes and shakes his head. "I see." He does not hesitating at all, as he holds up his staff and starts to chant. The words of power forming four mystical balls of energy around him. Each one a icy blue as they start to circle, the air around the summoner becoming notically colder. Frost starts to form on his clothing as he holds up a hand, like he is inviting somebody to a formal dance, "Come forth." His voice soft, polite, "Lady of the court, Sharina." The orbs fly up into the air, and a being made of pure ice forms beside him. Holding his hand and offering a curtsey, Lady Sharina is all etiquette, "I accept, shall we dance?"

Eleven is looking around the Bazaar for anything interesting when it spots several things falling from the sky. "I wonder what those are, I will go see." It says to a vendor and starts jogging towards the Aerodome while rummaging around in it's toolbox. "It is exciting in the city." Gets called out when passing a group of gawkers.

Running along, Zhgir was nimbly dodging and weaving through the crowds with the familiar chime heralding his presence. First, with people yelling at him, stumbling after the arachnid - but soon enough, those voices fade away and even the poor thief realizes he was having way too easy time of it. Pausing, he looks towards the other people, and sliding a piece of meat into his meat, moves his gaze upwards towards the flying objects. He lifts up another piece into his mouth - whilst leaning closer towards a random passerby with his free hands, in a very nonshady manner.

Archimedes arrives as Burmecians are prone to do, via the rooftops. Having a little forewarning on the date allows him to arrive with a few bounds and strides from rooftop to rooftop, discrete as the architecture allows. For the moment he takes in the scene, ducked in the shades of a belfry, his reliable rifle slung over his shoulder. "Crafty wasps, but wasps nonetheless. What are they looking to bite this time..." He mutters to himself, gaze flickering around the street. Foes and friends to watch alike.

Things falling from the sky? Well, that would certainly be cause for concern; if Celeste had noticed. Which, in fact, she has not. Instead, the mouse warrior is meandering about, mostly just passing through; her shield and spear are slung across her back, and she wears a proud look on her face, completely unaffected by the juice running down her chin from the mango she is eating. "What're y'all gorkin' at?" she asks, mostly to herself, as she notices more and more people looking upwards. Finally, she gets around to doing so herself. Her gaze turns upwards, and her eyes widen. "Is'a them lot again!" she snaps, dropping her partly eaten mango and pulling her shield off her back. "Y'ALL RUN!" she shouts, "IF YER AIN'T FIGHTIN', RUN!?" She attaches her shield to her left arm, before drawing her spear, and... lacking any knowledge on exactly where they will land, just planting her feet on the spot.

The last moments of the drop happen fast, the figures moving at terrible speeds. They are armored figures and large, and violent orange light pulses from the seams of their darkened metal. The five in formation fall near a large port on the roof of the Aerodrome, intended for disembarking skiffs, and slow suddenly, as if by magic. The sixth, however, seems to have veered slightly off-course, and lands on a moored airship on the other side of the Aerodrome. It also does not slow. Light bursts forth just below the point of impact, and a wall of solid sound follows it.

"Hhn." Grumble, grumble, hiss. The lizard holds a massive cleaver as he comes near, since its their fault (not the wine, not the fact the chair was in his way, and deffinitively not the fact that he had someone grab his tail as he walked by that made him jjump and fall forward and trip) that he missed his meal. Good food too. Carrying his cleaver, which in other species terms could be called: "An axe", the cook trundles his way forward and near a spider. This arachnid is looked at, the Bangaa snorting once, rudely, then continuing on. "And now they've got to bloody piss on my city. Hhnn. I'm going to kick their metal asses."

Marduke smiles to Sharina, then glances towards the large armored figures and sighs softly. "Always some new trick with them." Sharina glances to them as well, and sighs softly, "No grace, no elogance, and so much armor." Holding up her hands she breaths gently into it. A ball of swirling ice forming, and pointing towards the group of five the ice magic rushes forward. Yet it is not targeted at them, but at the ground they are standing on. Attempting to ice it over and make it slipery. A tatic to slow them down so people can get grouped up and ready.

Eleven comes to a stop and looks around at the people that aren't running away. "Did you all come to investigate as well? I would very much like to get hands on one of those!" It holds up a hand with a large wrench clenched in it, shaking it at the figured. Without thinking of the danger it starts walking towards the figures. "I am going to go take a closer look."

Zhgir's hands end up clutching thin air, as the person he was surreptiously leaning towards to suddenly bolts, hearing the mouse-warrior's cry in the distance. Swallowing hard, he clutches his hands into fists and gives them a firm shake, before with a heavy sigh swings his polearm into front of him. Though, then he sees the bangaa nearing him. And he instantly grins very widely. "Zhgir thinks the big leather head smells very nice," He says, hopping over the cook, "What, hrr, what's cooking?" He asks and the furred tufts jutting out from his quite burnt clothing raise as he follows the big lizard along, typically oblivious to the potentially dangerous situation.

Archimedes cautiously switches to another corner of the tower for shade and cover. He levels it against his shoulder and presses his eye snug to the scope, scanning across the armored figures as they descend. It's a fairly familiar sight, or at least similar to the last encounter. Minus certain amounts of orange crush. "Oop. Looks like it's starting," he murmurs, seeing Marduke take action. He casts a wry smile in his direction, even if it would be impossible to see from there. The Burmecian slips off to close distance and get a better vantage point. Some height, some cover, and a good field of vision... fortunately, the aerodome has at least two of those in abundance.

Speaking of a lack of grace and elegance, Celeste is on the move, once it becomes clear where the armored figures are going. "Y'all stick behind me, if'n yer ain' tough's nails," she calls to anyone else going inside as she, herself, makes her way into the aerodrome at a sustained sprint. Once inside though, she slows to a jog, and then to a much more cautious pace; the normally reckless mouse warrior opting for a more measured aproach, as she perks her ears up and gazes about herself, trying to pick out exactly where the armored warriors are.

The explosion from the failed landing leaves a gaping hole at the fore of the airship, and a black-armored figure, bloody and crumpled to the point of barely looking humanoid, can be seen dangling from it, leaking Mist. The moorings, twisted and weak, give way quickly, and the airship collapses to the ground, a pile of wreckage. The others, meanwhile, have entered the building proper through a skiff bay, and are now inside the Aerodrome.

"City. Fire. Airship. Was cooking noodles. Bastards distracted me, boom, burnt noodles, spilled, sad apprentice who has to clean up, and hungry Bangaa. Now someone has to pay for lost noodles. Thinking might try to add iron to diet, yesss?" A hiss, amusement, the Bangaa grins over at Zhgir in a 'OH god that's a lot of teeth' manner. At a loping, quick pace, the lizard begins to pick up speed, heading towards the building. This is just damn rude. He'll be entering inside shortly. "They ruin meal too? Hm. Bastards. I make you proper Noodles with Ahk and Meat-chunks. After this. They are rude. Crashing and making ships explode."

"They are after the airships, living bombs or suiciders. Terrorist tatics." Marduke offers, following along but keeping behind the group. A glance to the already destroyed airship and a shake of his head. Sharina follows along beside him, floating along the air. The edes of her dress, also made of ice, never touching the ground. She stays quiet, simply keeping her hands together as she collects energy. Though she does leave a trail of frost in her wake.

As Celeste moves past, Eleven compares the toughnes of bronze to steel trying to figure out how tough nails are. "My materails are not as tough as nails but I want to get a closer look and there one available for salvage." It puts the wrench away and follows the mouse inside, staying near the door and keeping distance to stay out of sword reach.

Zhgir continues to move along with the Bangaa, swirling his polearm over his shoulders. "Make sure it's raw," He quips, "No time fo r seconds." Nearing the Aerodome, the anarchid very quickly looks for ways to get some highground, climbing up along any supports or crevices he can get his hands upon. Even, if it happened to be the bangaa. Or more likely, Eleven.

Archimedes's heart sinks a bit as he sees the ship go down. A brief flash of response and rescue through his mind. Determine hazards. Clear the area. Neutralize threats. No, that's for the hangar crew. Right now he needs to support the others and take these five unknown assailants down. Apparently minding the shop hasn't softened him up; quite the opposite, really. There's more meat and spring to his movements these days. He pauses a bit in view of Celeste & the others outside, giving a quick flick of a salute from above, complete with a single shiny gilder between his fingers before finding his own opening to the dome. It just needs to be briefly visible. He'll be watching and supporting from the skies... and if past incidents are any example, may find himself right in the fray soon enough.

Celeste glances over her shoulder, noting that she isn't alone in this endeavour, and nods to those who are also daring to come inside. The warrior's gaze quickly returns to what is in front of her, however, as she resumes her stride deeper into the aerodrome. "C'mon," she mutters. "Show y'selves... dun' be shy." Her grip tightens on the haft of her spear, and she keeps her shield raised and at the ready. As she moves, she takes a moment to focus inwards, limbering her muscles up for the upcoming fight, stretching and flexing. ) [Spoofed By: Celeste]

Inside, the building is open, a large ticket counter at the center and stairs leading to two balconies that ring the entire Aerodrome. Smaller docks dot the upper balcony, a few housing the smaller skiffs, while access tunnels which lead out to the larger airships pock the lower; smoke is billowing from one of these, perhaps not surprisingly. A heavy blast of lightning suddenly tears into a parked and vacant skiff on the upper level, opposite the entrance; the fragile vehicle tears apart, splinters scattering. The few people huddled there get up quickly and run, panic-gripped.

"EVERYONE OUT!" THe Bangaa bellows, shouting loud and stalking in through the front door - his shouts loud and his voice strong, while waving for people to exit and move out, and preferably away from, the big cleaver-wielding lizard. Stalking forward at a lope, the lizard keeps low and fast, trying to get towards the violence and the scene . It would appear the lizard has a 'hero' problem. His axe rattles heavily as he shoves forward.

"That is not what I was designed for." Says Eleven as a spider-kin uses it as a ladder. Without any visible enemies it walks closer to Celeste, pulling a pistol from a holster on it's belt. "Do we shoot them? I am not sure how this works, I just followed mother around during battle and assisted in repairs. Should I follow you? I do not think they are golems but they look too heavy to be suits of armor." It looks over at the bangaa, with an expressionless face. "Everyone?"

Zhgir jumps up a bit as the bangaa suddenly bellows. Then he pats the golem, "He means everyone except those who he doesn't." He explains, "Also Zhgir thinks you shouldn't get too close to the queen. She has a spear." He adds, worriedly, before stands atop the golem for a moment, taking the moment to peer forward to see if there was anything interesting to be seen from his unique vantage point. But the restless arachnid soon leaps away and continues to climb further up along the walls.

Archimedes will use the ground floor then, and follow along until he can reclaim some vertical advantage. He seems quite comfortable with Celeste in the fore, at least. He's quick to study anything that could be used to advantage, including abandoned airships. They run the risk of being prime targets, though. He keeps himself braced and ready the whole while, assuming something of a sentinel position, astride the group.

"Stick wi't th'rest'a us," Celeste snaps at the Bangaa pushing past her. "Use yer 'ed, I'mma got'a shield fer'a purpose." She picks up her pace, however, after the lightning blast is evident, moving straight in that direction. "Y'all big'n brave," she calls out, "Pickin' on folks what ain' fightin' back. 'Member me? Come 'ere an' get y'self a rematch!"

Two of the figures emerge from the far platform with the shattered skiff, while two more emerge from the platform to its left. All four are enormous, the size of a Galka and bedecked in coal-black full plate, orange light pulsing from the seams. One from the far platform lifts a hand, and a massive jet of fire snaps from it, burning a head-sized hole through the wall above the main entrance--targeting nobody, but a clear signal. An inhuman voice echoes amidst the sound of falling rubble through the air; "Get out and you won't be hurt!" Its partner watches the threatening mouse-woman and her apparent companions below and lifts a massive zweihander. The other two, one with a pair of battleaxes in hands, the other carrying what appears to be a small cannon, watch and wait.

Spider, Shooter, and, hm. Hopping rat. Terribly-accented lady who has a shield about mhis size. Yup, the Bangaa is just grinning now, as he stalks towards the ships and the lightning, his axe swaying side to side. Okay, it's a giant cleaver. Same thing. Stalkng in - the lizard slows his steps, and lets out a hiss, blinking. Oh, so they can shoot fire and have a cannon. Now that's just not fair. He glances over at the others, his jaw tensing. It's just a momentary pause, the lizard trying to figure out if he should, or should not, charge. Yet. Not yet.

Eleven turns to look at the hole burned in the wall before turning back around and putting the pistol away. "I want one of those." Still entirely unsure of what to do without mother around, it simply follows Celeste and rummages in it's toolbox. "Capture one so I can study it."

Zhgir shifts upon his spot, having already tethered himself onto one of the protrusions on the wall. His attention turns towards the golem down below. "How far can you toss Zhgir?" He asks from him, as his lower hands start to open and close his satchels, somehow managing to weave a pale looking sheet out of thin air. Meanwhile, he waves his hand furiously towards Celeste, "Zhgir thinks the queen should yell louder, they don't seem to hear you!"

"Yes. Yell louder. They not hear it." He grumbles. Highness? Royalty, here? Lies. The Bangaa cracks his knuckles as he shifts the cleaver into a 'downward pose', ready to sweep up and hack apart if he needs to. That said, he looks and gives a nod towards the Royal. And then with a sudden bounding leap, the cook raises his cleaver up and snarls out a loud and reptilian hiss, attempting to cleave the nearest golem-thing right in half if he can. Which he probably cant. It's a steel cleaver, sure, but it's non-magical. ROAR!!!

Archimedes happens to think Celeste's accent is charming. It gives him enough bravado to pluck a specially prepared canister from his coat pocket and give it a good shake and *click*. The outsides drip a bit with a black viscuous liquid. "Well that just ain't fair," he spits, eyeing the 'small' cannon carrying suit. "You're gonna need a lot more of those if you wanna be stomping around here." In one swift motion he moves for cover and hurls the canister in an over-arm arc, where it will burst on impact, coating everything nearby in oil. [Grease] With any luck he can nail the guy holding the cannon.. if not, well, it'll make that platform a little more of a pain in the ass anyway. Added benefeit of moving for cover is redirecting smoe ranged retaliation from the group.

"Y'all gotta be kiddin'!" Celeste does indeed yell louder, apparently taking Zhgir's advice. As the blast flies over her head, she doesn't flinch; she merely spins her spear, raising it to rest on her shoulder as she continues to advance. "Y'all burst in'ere all rowdy an' hairy bunch, an' figure we all jes' lettin' yah? Tell y'what, yer takes off her armor an' surrender an' we's a'let *YOU* live." She glances to her side at the bangaa, while Elven's comments just... she just shakes her head briefly, and rolls her eyes. "I'mma get straight on't," she mutters, as she watches Archimedes' cannister go flying through the air. As it hits, she shifts her spear to be held by the same hand as her shield; around her right hand, bright orange runes glow in the air, before they swirl out in front of her, becoming a mass of flame that the mouse launches at teh pool of grease the burmecian just created. [Fire]

"Resistance is useless," the nerve-tingling voice replies. The monstrosity who hurled the bolt of fire turns and unloads another jet of fire, this time at an unoccupied platform, and leaves both platform and empty skiff next to it a smoldering mess. The cannon-wielder, however, turns awkwardly to the hurled object, then tries to bat it aside with a free gauntletted fist--tries, because the canister erupts on contact, leaving a slick sheen on the armor. The glow flares as Celeste's spell bursts around the invader, and when the fire is gone, it levels its cannon in one hand and raises its other, the orange light bright and painful. A howling noise comes from the cannon like a gale, and the shell it lobs directly into the ticket counter cracks on impact, creating a vortex of powerful winds through all but the outer edges of the main floor.

Eleven looks up at Zhgir, calculating his mass. "Approximately six point two eight feet, is that important?" The golem is knocket from it's feet byt the wind, landing on the floor with a clatter. "I want one of those too." Still laying on the ground it draws the pistol from it's holster, lining up a shot with the cannon guy and looking for something vital. "We are shooting now, yes?" Trying to aim for what might be a neck it squeezes the trigger.

Zhgir was doing just fine where he was, unfolding his mighty treasure... up until the windows suddenly gush across him and makes him fall upside down, hanging off his toes from his support. Waving at Eleven, "Toss Zhgir at the not burning things when you have time, yes!" He suggests to Eleven, "Or, hm. Zhgir thinks you are brazen enough to just ram straight in..." He rubs his chin thoughtfully, tangled webbing hanging off his mandibles and person.

Archimedes ducks even further behind cover and gives his eyes a generous rubbing. It's similar to the feel he gets from accidentally looking too close to a welding flame, or similar. The sonic and air disruptions don't help, either. "... if we can get ahold of that canon, this will be interesting quick," he remarks. Then he quickly loads a particular cartridge into his mist rifle and swings out from cover, taking a second shot at the nearest platform. The bullet might *plink* off harmlessly, but doing so it discharges an arcane burst. A bit weak, but still temporal magic ripples out, wrapping the area in [Slow]. "I'm up for better ideas..."

And then, there is wind. Celeste quickly shifts her spear back to her right hand, and drops to one knee, holding her shield close against herself to minimize the effects of the wind against a... large... round object. Even so, she grits her teeth, and her considerable musculature is put to the test. "Win fight first, grab clobber aft'wards," she snaps; those to whom the instruction is directed likely know who they are. Celeste watches the Bangaa go leaping into the fray, and then, not to be outdone, the mouse jumps to her feet and does the same. She launches herself off the platform, and angles her shield against the wind, to slow her descent just a hair; as she lands, she shifts the metal bulwark between herself and the canon-wielding foe, just as she winds up and swings her spear like she really means it.

The wind is short-lived, as if it consumed itself in its wrath. The Bangaa's cleaver deflects off a now-sooty pauldron, leaving a nick but little else. The bullet from Eleven's pistol finds a glowing chink in the armor... and seems to disintegrate in the swirling Mist. The bubble of magic sweeps the platform, sweeping through both of the suited invaders--as well as Ba'Naram, too close to evade the sudden arcane sweep of sluggish movement. Celeste descends a moment later, spear leaving a gouge down the armor but deflected aside. The light from the cannoneer's armor, meanwhile, casts swirling brassy shadows on the walls as he extends his arms, and laughter like a steel bar shoved in a turbine fills the air. From the cannon a shell erupts, widening the hole in the wall above the entrance, while from his free hand comes a hail of lightning bolts--directed at the far platform.

A growing lethargy, he's always hated magic. Growling, snarling, hissing, the lizard rolls himself up and grips the axe with both hands in a solid, mighty squeeze, then rends down. The Bangaa is snarling as he tries to cleave the metal down again, quite possibly notching the cleaver, but the full weight of the bangaa is put into it - he wants to claim first kill, after all. "Haaaah!" Of course, to anyone outside of the radius, the lizard is moving slower than normal, enough to see the flex of muscle, the tightening of sinew, the look of annoyance as he feels /magic/ wash over him. Cowards.

"Negative, I was not designed for combat and I could only throw you to there." Eleven points at a spot on the floor, several feet away as it stands and runs for cover. "I suggest that we send in a platoon of shock troops to capture those in the suits so I can study them." Stopped behind a trashcan it raises the pistol again, maybe another one will be easier to injure. *BANG* The pistol barks and a shot goes out towards flamey.

"Would they fire on their own squads? Let's see just how ballsy they are..." Archimedes mutters. The Burmecian moves up behind the others, using broken and intact structure alike to shield himself from attention and from oncoming attacks. He feels quite outgunned... but this is hardly the time to turn tail. Rapidly he swings his rifle from target to target, aiming not for precsision, but to threaten, distract, and otherwise suppress fire aimed at the charging group. His Burmecia-built rifle now has a twist and a tube on the end, and a few cables running from the body to the battery, making each shot more like a muted chirp than an explosive sound. "Get. That. Cannon."

Zhgir takes the opportunity to peel away from the wall and slide atop Eleven again. He yanks the sheets of silk he's holding over his shoulder, before taking hold of his polearm. "Zhgir thinks we /are/ the shock troops." He points out, then gestures towards the sides of the big suits of armor. "We have to go around them! Up around and all over them!" He shouts, "Quick, while they are distracted!"

Celeste is rather busy, to be worrying about getting a canon, wether it's vitally important or not. She is, however, right face to face with a very large powered suit of armor, which she seems at best able to gouge. "Keep doni' whatcher doin'," she snaps at the Bangaa beside her. As the wind dies down, she takes a step back, keeping her shield up as she looks around swiftly at what else is happening. Removing herself from the immediate fray for a moment, she shifts her spear back to her shield hand; her right hand is surrounded by runes once more, as she lobs a second fire spell; this time aiming for the platform under another one of the enormous suits (or overtop of, if that is unavailable). With any luck, given all the damage so far, it will collapse beneath or on top of the enemy.

"Getzrik's rogue!" Which one is speaking is hard to discern amidst the sounds of battle and falling debris. The sword-wielder's armor, battered from the Mist-enhanced lightning, suddenly goes dim. Eleven's shot goes wide, leaving a pock in the wrecked skiff behind. The soldier with the twin axes, meanwhile, wastes no time--and apparently is unaffected by Archimedes' magic. Both moon-shaped blades trail Mist, and they crack into the still-cackling cannoneer's neck, a red-tinged mix of blood and Mist leaking out of the armor suit. Ba'Naram's time-caught cleaver comes a moment later, catching the helmet full in the face and revealing a woman's face, staring dead eyes ringed not with white but black. "Meiza! Open a door!" There's a loud rumbling noise from just outside the wall on the upper deck. The blast of fire on the far platform doesn't seem to quite destroy it, since nobody's gone blasting at it just yet, but it creaks ominously. More importantly, the swordsman flinches in what appears to be pain. Both figures vacate the platform quickly, charging down the balcony and doing their best to shrug off the cover fire towards the deceased cannoneer, the axe-wielder--and the Bangaa and Burmecian.

"Waaaaaugh!" The helmet comes free and shaken off, the Bangaa laughs brilliantly, and charges forward, towards the swordsman! The Bangaa, then, stomps twice and charges forward, towards the charging suits and their armor, the Bangaa letting the blood rage flow as he storms forward, dragging his cleaver along to create a lovely show of sparks. Intimidation, thy name is Bangaa!

Most people would probably get annoyed at being climbed on but Eleven simply looks up at the perched spider. "Go where? I have no means of attaining flight." The orders are accepted quickly anyway and it starts running towards some stairs to flank, as fast as it can with Zhgir hanging on. The pistol comes up for a another shot, but the golem hesitates at the invaders actions. "That is not supposed to happen, yes?"

Zhgir pats the golem on the head. "I have no idea what I'm doing." He tells the bronzen thing with a wide grin on his face; waiting up until they are up enough for him to clamber into action. "Keep going!" He shouts - and then he leaps off the golem, to try and catch the axe-wielding suit of armor from the behind. And with his webbings. And heart. He has plenty of heart. [Annoy]

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Archimedes registers the dialogue as a faint perponderance. Traitors in the ranks. Dissent. Something more dastardly behind the magitek suits, likely. As soon as the cannoneer goes down, though, the Burmecian abandons his rifle and is off like a shot, springing, sprinting across debris and dodging fire to make a vaulting leap to the platform above. It's graceful--while he's in the air, at least. The part where he's scrabbling and takes some time to find his footing above is less impressive, to say the least, and it'll take him a moment to move to Phase 2.

Celeste is far too busy at the moment to be to worried about retrieving a canon. No, the mouse has bigger things on her mind; like a bunch of charging people in mist-powered armor. "Na'this time," she hisses, "Y'ain't bugg'rin off twice." She keeps herself out of the immediate fray for the moment, as she sizes up the charging group; her fire runes swirl about her hand once more, before she lets loose, sending another blast of flame sizzling through the air... straight at the supports for the platform underneath the charging group; aiming for just ahead of them, so that hopefully the fire will be there, destroying things, just as they're charging over it. "Come'n get me!" she shouts at them, shifting her spear back to her right hand and giving it a spin, "I'mma Celeste!"

The swordsman and the fire-slinger are approaching the near platform. Celeste's own blast of flame, however, seems to weaken the supports sufficiently--the suits collapse through the balcony and fall... but too slowly, still carrying the residual effects of a Float spell, and they land lightly on the balcony below. Zhgir's efforts, meanwhile, do not go unnoticed; with an unearthly howl, the axe-wielder snarls and targets the very first thing it happens to see--which are the glowing runes and their wielder. It swings the axes wildly at Celeste's back, more Mist trailing from their blades. Ba'Naram, still under the last lingering effects of Archimedes' slowing bullet, is thankfully still in mid-charge when his targets find themselves a floor below.

Skidding to a halt - the Bangaa snags his axe down and hooks the edge of the railing,in order to halt himself from being thrown free. Letting out a loud huff, the Bangaa slows himself down and shakes his head rapidly, then bends his head down to look at the two beneath him. Cheek twitching, the Bangaa lets out a growl, the red-orange scaled creature takes a moment to settle himself, then leaps down, bringing his Cleaver in to try a decapitation strike on the foes below. Bangaaaaa!

Eleven finally sees a clear path of actions when Celeste is attacked from behind. It stops running and raises it's pistol, taking careful aim at the axeman's head. This is the point where one would wait for the natural pause between breaths for greater accuracy but the golem doesn't breathe. The bullets seems to be useless but it pulls the trigger anyway hoping to distract him.

Zhgir manages to latch onto the axe-wielding beast with his nets; doing plenty of work in wrapping the thing's hands and face into his nettings. "Zhgir!" He calls out triumphantly as he hangs onto the suit for the trip below- only to see the murderous thing get murderous on Celeste. The nets abandoned, he instead leaps for the woman's rescue. "Celeste!" He shouts out, as he tries to use the momentum of his weight to ruin at least one of the axes' swing before they connect.

Archimedes pulls himself to a more active position and takes stock of the situation. One swordsman down. One more foe turned 'rogue,' executed. Two suits fighting Bangaa berserker on a lower platform, and one crazed axe-wielder duking it out with Celeste. None seem like viable targets for an explosives weapon, 'lest he harm his friends as well. The mouse-knight has proven her prowess, but it never hurts to be safe when dealing with foes of this sort. "Kick 'is ass!" he calls out, and mutters a few strings of language in Burmecian. A thin white matrices of light forms in his palm, and then springs to Celeste, giving her a quick magical coating that pushes back against physical force. [Protect] Now, he has to figure out what he can about this canon, and seeing as the three enemies left are... engaged, this gives him a good opportunity to give it a look over. Assuming operation is any more complicated than 'point & pull', it's still good to get a look at.

The warning from Zhgir perks Celeste's ears; the mouse looks over her shoulder, just in time to see the axe-wielder bearing straight down on her. In a single, fluid, and rather inspired motion, she whirls about on the spot, and forms a defensive triangle with both shield and spear, absorbing the impact from one axe before knocking the other, just barely, aside. She takes a single step back, giving just that much ground between herself and her foe. "Y'mine," she snarls, bending her knees and crouching down. She keeps the shield up in front of her, as she spins her spear around behind herself, gathering momentum with the heavy weapon as she lunges forwards, thrusting the blade low before ramming it upwards, screaming aloud with the exertion as she rams it, hopefully, up through the chin and into the brain. [Heavy Blow]

Eleven's bullet bounces off the rampaging axe-wielder's head after its deflected blows--which seems to cause it to hesitate for a moment. The two below simply run for one of the airship tunnels, being chased by the Bangaa--who is still a few steps behind, even as the Slow effect wears off completely. Celeste's blow is firm and true, and a mighty clang echoes through the quivering Aerodrome. Unfortunately, the Mist Knight, or Mist Construct, or Psychotic Axe-Wielding Freak, absorbs the blow, a crack showing in the armor where it lands glowing with that lurid orange light. The axe-wielder rolls with the momentum of the blow, spinning around quickly--and bolting away, too fast, towards Archimedes and the fallen cannoneer. And then--fire. The wall next to Celeste and Zhgir blows out in a wave of fire, and the fifth armorsuit stands in the skiff tunnel behind, the outer wall also breached and a well-armored skiff hovering next to it. Zhgir's reflexes should keep him from being hurled to the floor, but Celeste's assault leaves her footing wrong, and the Burmecian woman falls from the balcony.

It's raining rats! The Bangaa, having landed down at a lower level, feels his knees protest and thighs ache for a moment, before he rolls his head up and stares, though blindfolded in the manner of his kind. Taking a deep hiss and breath, the Bangaa pulls himself up and steps back, judging the angle and speed. And then, the Bangaa sprints forward, to try to aim and catch the speed and angle with the womans own fall, before trying to catch her to avoid broken Rathood. And if it requires a leap from a height, he has his cleaver to hitch on the nearest object, even if he has to ride the wall down.

Eleven slides the pistol back into it;s holster after the bulelt simply bounces off as expected. It jams a hand into the toolbox hanging at its side and rummages around. "Maybe I have something in her that will help." And out of the tooblox comes...a rivet gun. The mechanism is held up and a red hot rivet is fired at axeman.

Archimedes sees everything happen in slow motion. Part of a party, part of a crew, is trust. Celeste has Ba'Naram, and vice versa. Eleven and Zhgir pair. And that leaves him... and a big fucking gun. Something about the aura, the nostalgia of the place... maybe it's the airships. "Well, let's just see what happens." He chuckles and swings the cannon past the charging axe suit, pointed square at the skiff that just busted through the wall and the rider astride it. He prepares for the worst and attempts to fire the pilfered device.

Zhgir rolls of along the side as the axe man decides to flee; which leaves the rolling arachnid only singed by the explosive entrance of yet another armored suit. His feet catch the edges of the platform, as he stares wide-eyed at the monstrosity in front of him. Now, if he had any Bombs. Taking a deep breath, he lunges towards the suit with his polearm held at the fore - but instead of actually trying to hit the thing, he was simply going to ram it underneath the chin of the suit and dump it, in hopes of trying distract it while he dashes within the tunnel. [Annoy]

Celeste shrieks in surprise as she finds herself, rather abruptly, falling off the platform. This is definitely not according to plan! At first, she tries to regain her footing, but quickly realizes that it's too far gone for that; everything starts to happen in slow motion, and she finds the presence of mind to swing her left arm around, and fling her shield off into open air, leaving her hand free for... whatever is upcoming. Which, it seems, is a long fall to the bottom; well, she's got strong bones, right? Fortunately it seems she has strong friends, also, as a large bangaa catches her on the way down. The mouse oomphs loudly, and holds her spear outstretched, so as not to get her saviour caught up in it. "GORRAMNIT!!" she shouts, before raising her now shieldless hand; runes whirl about it, glowing an angry orange, before she lobs a blast of fire at the axe-wielding mist knight. "Yer *MINE!!* she shouts, frustrated and angry, as she slides down the wall with Ba'Naram.

The rivet pops the axe-wielder in the leg, but doesn't seem to do more than leave a slight glowing crack in the armorsuit, which seals shut a few moments later. The hand-cannon, now in Archimedes' hand, clicks... and does nothing more--apparently the gun only fits two rounds at a time. Zhgir's target, meanwhile, simply ignores the target to step back onto the skiff, waiting to cover for the others at need. And so the last remaining soldier inside the Aerodrome drops its axes in front of Archimedes and snatches up the dead invader, lifting it as if the weight is almost meaningless--and swings it around to absorb the gout of fire slung at it.

Archimedes scowls when the cannon clicks. "... well, shit." He meets the approaching suit by reaching for his hold-out pistol, fire in his eyes... and when the axes go down, he pauses. Hangs his head. The mission is over, it would seem. It resembles respect, the way they take the fallen, but the truth is probably more like: reduce, reuse, recycle, don't let them have a suit. Archimedes', with this goal in mind, rises. He's got a lot of weapons to collect, too; his gun, the cannon, the two axes... make sure everyone's unharmed... and see about excavating that crashed suit.

Ow. Catching a body falling is easier than some think - and he grips the wrist of the girl who falls and throws himself forward and swings, nearly losing his grip on his cleaver, which sparks as it cuts its way down the wall and he uses his strength to slow the fall, either all the way to the ground, or until his cleaver hooks into something, and he can hold the girl by one arm to steady herself. He grunts, his shoulder suddenly on fire, but he's stubborn about keeping someone up. He's out of the fight until she's able to touch floor.

Zhgir snarls at the suit as he is just flat ignored, and in sheer frustration he tosses a handful of brass objects - oddly shaped like keys - at the thing from his pocket. But he yields by leaping away onto the wrecked wall, scuttling onto a position where he can just observe the suits' retreat. And hopefuly not be lit on fire.

If able to Eleven would frown as the small success the rivit gun has, quickly seal up. "They are getting away, capture one." It says as the rivet gun falls to the floor and it begins running over towards where everone else is. Maybe one last shot as the pistol comes out of the holster and up again. It stops and shakes it's head. "Atleast the one that crashed is still here and we can study their weapons."

Celeste growls in frustration as her fire spell is blocked without effect. "G'DAMNIT!" she snaps; upon reaching the floor, she casts her eyes about for her fallen shield, after landing in a crouch and moving swiftly out of the way of the Bangaa. "...Thanks," she adds, with full sincerity, and offering a nod to the Bangaa. "Burns me ter see'm gettin'way though." She sighs heavily, forced to acknowledge that it will be over by the time she gets back up; and so she simply sets about marching off to pick up her shield, instead.

As the apparent resistance wanes, the last soldier leaves the platform, running with magically-induced haste back to the skiff. Once onboard, the small airship descends from view--likely to pick up the other two a floor below from the airship mooring they had bolted for. The sound of a piece of masonry falling from some tenuous perch echoes in the Aerodrome as the raid concludes, the building damaged but, at least, still standing.

-----------------
Back to [[Whisper War]]

Whisper War

2013-06-20T22:26:57Z

Rebecca: page links

Character Biographies

2013-06-11T05:39:44Z

2013-05-22T17:30:32Z

Rebecca: Created page with 'A sliver of daylight rested against the bulkhead, telling Masha two days had passed in captivity. Her wrists chafed against the shackles her captors used, the shining mythril ta…'

A sliver of daylight rested against the bulkhead, telling Masha two days had passed in captivity. Her wrists chafed against the shackles her captors used, the shining mythril taunting her. Aches had sprouted up along her body from using the cramped cot someone had thoughtfully provided last minute before throwing her into the equally small cabin on the airship.

Events from two days ago played out through her head. The city walls bombarded by an airship attack, the alarms going up, and the second skiff dropping what she had dubbed 'shock troopers'--it was certainly a shock when she heard they were Mist powered. The horrible sound in her mind of the pistol shot and then her father going down, clutching at his ruined knee, leaving him further crippled, replayed itself every time she closed her eyes to rest.

Anger boiled in her as she replayed in her mind her own idiocy of losing her temper, running out to attack the armored soldiers with her bare hands, only to be snatched up as some part of their objective. 'Father must be worried sick,' Masha thought sadly to herself. Life may have been priveledged living with him, but it wasn't without its own sadness.

The townhouse she grew up in the southern part of the Capital was quiet, she being the only child present. Her Aunt Driha had joined her, the Elf a constant reminder of her mother's heritage, and a constant reminder of her own heritage: Elvaan. Tainted Blood, Aunt Driha said. She had always been confused why her Aunt had said it with such vehemence whenever she asked about it. Then it would lead to arguments between her Father and Aunt Driha, mostly in Elvish where she didn't understand when she was young, and would end with Aunt Driha storming to her rooms and her Father looking strained. This was normal childhood.

The cabin door opened, admitting a man who looked eerily like her father, more fit, a leer permanently etched on his face, and dressed in Archadian military attire. He deposited a chair in front of her and sat, eyes looking over her. An unclean sensation came over her.

"So, my brother's little girl," he began simply, dark eyes studying her. "His little Elvaan. It's a good thing for you, my little niece, I'm in such a wonderful mood that I won't turn you over to the crew for their personal use."

Shock was followed quickly by loathing. 'This man would turn his own blood over to be raped?' Masha cleared her throat. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord General Corlan--" she began before she was cut off, a hard backhand so casually given by her captor, splitting her lip.

"I didn't give you permission to speak," he responded coldly, his lips curling into another unclean smile. "Parroted courtesies won't get you very far. I have plans for you, Elvaan." He watched as the girl brought her hand to her cheek, the sting of the lesson still there. "Tell me, has your Aunt or your Father ever told you the stories of what happened during the Folly to your Mother's people?"

Masha nodded mutely, hand still pressed against the hurt. It was established through story that her people and their 'tainted' progeny warred with each other, groves completely destroyed or turned red with blood as the Mist drove each side mad. The more physical Elvaan turned to monsters in their own mind, killing with berserk rage, with abandon.

Her father's doppelganger grinned, the leering face moving in close. "And I've got my very own little Elvaan to test our new M.E.D with. Be a good girl. I'll be back." He rose and left, leaving her shaking in the tiny cabin.

The cabin felt colder as the last rays of sunlight vanished.

-----
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Whisper War

2013-05-22T17:22:39Z

Rebecca:

Late Courier

2013-05-12T06:48:21Z

Rebecca:

Meanwhile, somewhere in Archades. . .

Daschel swirled the Archadian dark red in his goblet, brows arched as he looked over at the messenger. His guards had informed him minutes before of the courier's arrival from the desert pisshole known as 'Emberstrand', and that he had pressing information from the embassy located within the sandy walls. It was certainly improper to appear before a member of nobility smeared in desert dirt and looking as though they hadn't slept or bathed in two weeks, and Daschel tapped his fingers irritably against the stem.

"My lord, I ap-apologize for disturbing you so late--"

"You had better apologize, courier," Daschel growled irritably. "I've a courtesan I've paid time on, and I'd like to use her tonight. So, speak."

The courier fiddled with the parchment roll before handing it over to the irritated lord. "Lady Mathwis wished me to inform you that she had located the individual you had been requesting."

The ugly smile that graced Daschel's lips made the courier step back. "Ah, my dear Mathwis... I knew you'd let me know where my errant brother is." Parchment crinkled in the man's hand as he unrolled it, examining the contents.

His brother had taken residence in Emberstrand, and had even the gall to host a pair of feasts while using the Corlan name. The description provided by the embassy's spymistress left little doubt as to the identity of the newest Archadian transplant. His brother, and from appearances, a girl he had kept from the family, supposedly his daughter. The other parchment pieces wrapped within showed charcoal pictures, the girl appearing familiar.

"Oh, dear brother. So you meant to hide this little surprise from me" Daschel placed the parchment on his desk, looking to the courier. "You've done well, courier. I should make certain to give you full recompense." The drawer to his left held smooth, useful metal as he drew it out, aiming.

"Pity you were a week late delivering this information to me," Daschel said, voice taking on a flippant quality. He drew the firearm back, tapping his temple as he studied the trembling courier. "Tell me how you would deal with the situation, courier?"

The courier continued trembling, voice quavering. "I-I w-would g-grant clemency, my L-Lord."

Daschel studied the courier before him, eyes alighting. "It's a good thing I'm not you." The barrel took aim and fired, leaving a red mist in its wake, spattering the wall behind, body thumping to the floor.

"Clean it up," Daschel said to the guard on duty, rising as he slid the firearm in the drawer. "I've a whore to bed."
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Late Courier

2013-05-12T06:46:53Z

Rebecca: Created page with 'Meanwhile, somewhere in Archades. . . Daschel swirled the Archadian dark red in his goblet, brows arched as he looked over at the messenger. His guards had informed him minut…'

Whisper War

2013-05-12T06:45:10Z

Rebecca:

2013-02-17T16:40:58Z

Rebecca: rp log posting