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| Tweet Topic Started: Sat Sep 17, 2016 1:22 pm (8,264 Views) | |||||
| Lorica | Fri Nov 18, 2016 6:58 pm Post #226 | ||||
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Lorica walked up to the main entrance of the mansion, peering through the window. She sniffed and winced, her nostrils burning. The air was pungent, an aromatic cocktail that combined the sickly sweet scent of rotting meat with the stench of decay and mildew. She took a quick look inside, making note of the mounds of unrecognizable substances, tumor-ridden corpses, and otherwise repugnant sights. The Keeper yanked her head back out and took a deep gulp of the (comparatively) fresh air outside. “Alright. That’s a nightmare in there.” She shook her head. “Farethi said those things are super virulent. She’s treating Drote, but I don’t want to trust everything on her remedies. I have some… natural defenses against disease. So here’s what I’m thinking.” The Keeper glanced around their surroundings. The manor had been opulent once, but both the main structure and its grounds had fallen into disrepair. It was on top of a hill that would provide a stunning view of the surroundings… that is, if it wasn’t in the Dark District. From here most of what could be seen was inky darkness, but that was part of what made it such a perfect location for an ambush. There wasn’t many places nearby that would hear a ruckus. “I’m going to go in there. You’ll hear some noises. Loud ones. Violent. Don’t come in until they stop. Some of these [removed]ers might try to run. I want you three to set up a cordon around the mansion. If anyone flees, put them down. From a distance, if you can. We don’t want rumors getting out that the Pariahs allowed some biters to spread into the town.” She flashed her teeth in a wide grin. “Let me reiterate: don’t follow me in. If you do I’ll probably kill you. You’ve been warned.” Lorica strolled up to the front door and kicked them open, nearly tearing the rotting wood off its hinges. She stepped into the charnel house, holding her breath. “Alright boys. Let’s do this.” Her pupils dilated, trying to absorb the sparse light within the manse. Then barbs sprouted, shattering through her irises and stabbing into the sclera. Inky designs swirled to the surface of her skin, ebony veins that pulsed and wriggled with a life of their own. She drew her lips back and cackled, the manic laughter echoing throughout the dilapidated house. Lorica clenched both hands into fists, her skin beading with droplets of silvery perspiration. The metallic globules flowed together, forming into sheets of gleaming plate, armor that clung to her body as snugly as her own skin. For a moment she looked resplendent, a knight in perfect armor, staring at the vampires through a narrow visor in a close helmet. She was strong. Lorica roared, the sound terrible and human. She opened her hands, the armor around her fingers flowing and elongating, solidifying into foot-long claws, double-edged and razor sharp. More blades protruded from her elbows and knees, barbs stabbing up along her spine, spiraling horns sprouting from her temples. One of the vampires lunged at her as the armor swirled, stabbing with its wrist-stingers. They scrabbled along the shiny metal, finding no purchase on the curved plate designed to deflect blows. These ingrates thought they could infect her? No. She would punish them for their audacity, for their foolishness. She was the alpha predator, the pinnacle of the food chain. She had no need for the rest of her pack. She could destroy them alone. She grabbed the vampire by the neck, muscles bulging as she lifted it off the ground. It squirmed, clawing at her forearms, finding no weaknesses in the Wellplate. “WEAK!” She roared in its face. Then she clenched her hand into a fist. Claws sliced through flesh, meat, and bone. Her fingers grated together, messily decapitating the beast. Swarms of insects swirled in the air, their drill-like mandibles whirring against the dreamsteel. The metal screeched but held up. She slapped at her body, crushing dozens of squirming larvae with each strike. There were always more, diving for her visor, seeking out the only chink in the plate. The metal flowed closed, blinding her, but she hardly slowed down. Everything was an enemy. There was no reason to hold back. She didn’t need to see to kill. She could still hear their shuffling footsteps, could still feel their feeble attacks against her hide. They couldn’t hide, not even if they wanted to. She was an artist whose palette only had one color, painting the interior of the manner in every shade of red. The sounds of slaughter lasted for over an hour, screeches and shouts, laughter and roars, and always the noises of rending flesh and shattering bones. Nothing emerged for another thirty minutes after the sounds faded. Lorica eventually staggered out, looking pale and tired, but otherwise unharmed. She was soaked from her head to her toes in gore, clothing plastered to her body. She stayed on the crooked porch of the mansion, waving at the other Pariahs. “Don’t come close to me,” she said, her voice raw and raspy. “G-go get Farethi. Have her bring all the vampirism cure she’s made up. Ask her how I should be quarantined. This shit is everywhere.” Lorica chuckled and released Anci’s arm, popping her neck to one side and then the other. “I’ve always been a bit of a ladykiller.” She beckoned at Eva, a ‘come hither’ flutter of her fingers. “Your sense of style offends me. Let’s see if I can’t pound you prettier.”
Edited by Lorica, Fri Nov 18, 2016 8:26 pm.
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| Carmen | Fri Nov 18, 2016 8:06 pm Post #227 | ||||
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A wealth of information on Rjinders and his deputies had been gathered, and through it a plan was in the works. The Pariahs aimed to use the Sheriff's inflexibility, his obsessiveness, and his hatred of the rogues known as Shadow Dancers against him. The tiny moments and sounds of failure were to build around him in a growing chorus, and the crescendo would be his death. Part of this design was to clear a nearby manor of vampiric infestation, and of this Carmen wanted no part. The mere mention of fighting vampires sent her swiftly from the room, and she had to ask Ansgar to relay the rest of the plan to her after the group had disbanded for the evening. What truly interested her was the protest that had been proposed – the culmination of their plans to distract and disrupt Rjinders' itinerary, during which the Pariahs would bait him into the manor. Any good protest needed a centralized location - one that bore some meaning to the gathered townsfolk. Carmen gave some thought on where that might be, where such divergent a populace as that found in Nine Angels could all feel was agreeable, valued and respected. She poured over her map of the city long into the night, scribbling down benefits and contraindications to a dozen possibilities before finally concluding that such a place didn't actually exist. She sank back in her chair and put her face in her hands. "What would you do?" she asked to the emptiness of her room. A successful businessman, or woman, needs only to see a void and fill it. One of her father's musing echoed in her head. Since she could not find the perfect location for the protest, Carmen decided to make one. All through the night and the day after she toiled over her leaflets, flysheets and handbills. It was agonizing work, and by the end her hands were numb, curled and contorted, her eyes red-rimmed and hollow, and her skin alabaster and cold. When Ansgar found her he covered Carmen with blankets, stoked her hearth and threw on fresh logs, and brought her warm food and drink. When that was done, his curious eyes tilted toward the stacks of parchments she'd been labouring on for countless hours. The young heiress lifted the freshest one from her desk, gave the ink a gentle blow to be sure it was dry, and handed it to the Abnathean. Visit the Main Street Apothecary Tomorrow! Fresh herbs Tinctures for every ailment Remedies for disease Prophylactics for lycanthropy and vampirism! Potions Elixirs The best tonics from here to Striberg! Meet Aufdein Korso! FREE BARREL OF FRESH WATER WITH EVERY PURCHASE (purchaser to supply their own barrel or other suitable container) Carmen didn't look up. She could feel Ansgar's eyes on her; a look she'd received far more than once in her lifetime. . .he thought she had finally gone completely mad. "It is madness," she said. "But this city needs water. And I'm going to give it to them." She cupped her mug to warm her fingers. "They will buy our entire stock. We will bathe in a washtub filled with notes and silver and gold. And when it comes time, I will take the water away. I will blame Rjinders. And wouldn't you know it? He will just happen to be on his patrol passing by when I do." Having recuperated, Carmen donned her magical disguise as the wererat messenger and set out into the streets. She hand-delivered each and every one of hundreds of copies of her flyer. With that task done, she rode out of the city with Ansgar as her guard, and went to the freshwater spring that the Pariahs had seized. "Your emissary taught me how to do this," she said to him as she peered down into the depths of the water-filled tunnel and put out her hand, palm forward. First a light appeared, deep in the water, guiding her next spell. Then, against the stone floor, deep in the well-shaped tunnel, a circular patch of flat stone swirled with magic and quickly settled. "It will be a bit more. . .impressive when we get back to the shop." She rode back to the apothecary with Ansgar. In the back room of the store she had him drag a barrel and shove it, open-topped, against the wall. She concentrated for a great deal of time, forming the image of the spring in her mind, recalling every detail and nuance. Then she spoke another incantation. A portion of the wall whorled with enchantment, and then with a flash the portals connected, and out of the wall fresh water poured freely into the barrel, filling it to the brim in moments. With a snap of her fingers Carmen shut the gateway, but she could open and close it again as she pleased. She smiled, and gave her giant bodyguard a gentle squeeze on the arm. "Stay here with me? This place may get. . .rather full of activity." Carmen penned a message to Aufdein using the communiquill 'Mr. Korso. Our plans are set in motion. Could you please attend our Main Street Apothecary? I would be most grateful. You are the leading authority on these products, after all! Thank you, and see you soon. - Carmen. Then she took what little time she had left to rest before the madness began. OOC Edited by Carmen, Fri Nov 18, 2016 8:10 pm.
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| Tanya | Fri Nov 18, 2016 8:34 pm Post #228 | ||||
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Tanya hopped through the Castle on her remaining leg, irritated by the delays. Kir Lantos' plan was edging towards completion with each passing day, and the Pariahs could scarce afford to spend a quarter of their remaining time planning to attack just one of his potential allies. Not to get into the increasing probability of Rijinders finding out about their plan. The ethereal made keeping secrets next to impossible. Caelum took a different view. "You've got to give yourself some time to recover, Madame Tanya. You can't fight like this, not until you've got back the limbs you traded away. It's too dangerous." Madame Tanya scowled at him. "I can't fight anyway, Caelum, not until we've got an enemy." "Then why are you agonizing over it? If you want to do something, we should go find some way to help." The elemental shrunk back as Madame Tanya turned on him viciously, but she regained control of herself without shouting. "Yes. Yes, you're right." She took a deep breath. "All right. We know Rjinders is dangerous in head-to-head combat. So let's see if we can weaken him a little before that becomes an issue." "How will we do that?" Tanya grinned, her earlier impatience forgotten. "Perhaps Mr. Korso will have some idea." She found the inventor and his blueprints holed up in one of the rooms of the Castle. "Mr. Korso!" she called out. "I've been thinking. This light mage--do you think you could craft a few traps we might spring on him? It would be nice to have a way to deal with him without needing to go head-to-head." She approached him and leaned against a wall, waving the stumps of the limbs she'd traded to the middleman. "I should be fully recovered within a few hours, after which I can help you with anything you need. I'm not an expert with traps, but I know a few things about arcanotech and I'm a damn fine alchemist if I do say so myself." |
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| Alexandra | Fri Nov 18, 2016 11:20 pm Post #229 | ||||
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Alex picked the sheriff's golem. The infiltration was a relatively simple job. She sourced a uniform from the laundry of the company she dug around contracted to repair the sheriff's golems. She came in through the front door, already a little grubby but not much - mostly black lubricants collected in hard-to-wash spots on her hands. The young man at the entry to the armory was a little curious about her presence, his eyes fixated on her own. "Hull three is due for a binding core scorch/leavings clean." "Uh, hull three was serviced within the past six months." "The scorch/leavings clean is an annual task, it slipped from the last service so my boss said to get it in now. No charge, okay?" "You aren't the regular mechanik, she isn't a shadow-lover. Have you seen military golem insides?" "I've only worked with a handful. I'm from the non-mobile section. But a binding core is a binding core!" Alex was allowed through. She stepped through, winced a little as her phantom limb acted up, and carried on through to the hulls. Several had left from their service areas, leaving Alex some serious alone time with hull three. She opened up the back with her borrowed toolset, began peeling away secondary armor and structural reinforcement before opening the inside and catching a glance at the binding c- She blinked at the clean binding core interior and at the multitude of modifications she had made. She could see Mira's own runics hidden within, but she was onyl vaguely certain she had barred the senka from regaining control. She had made an effort, at least. Alex left after re-sealing the interior and making sure the shutters were fixed closed on the vent stacks. Later that night, hull three was activated and Mira jumped inside. She had done a little work to imitate the movements of the senka golem, and midway through the patrol, while the sheriff was quite busy with a witness, she turned and walked into the dark district. On arrival, Alex began to disguise the golem through paint, extraneous cloths she had scavenged and even a few small alterations to the decorations already on the hull. "Hey, Korso, I'm not enough of an arcanist to build with what I've got laying around. I would love it if this hull received a ranged anti-golem weapon. Something so we have more means to put a hurt on the enemy to open the ambush up. Oh, and my elemental probably can't...shoot straight. Say, do you think it looks enough like scrapyard trash now and not a full-blown military spec machine?" Edited by Alexandra, Fri Nov 18, 2016 11:25 pm.
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| Anci | Fri Nov 18, 2016 11:42 pm Post #230 | ||||
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Mansion Fun Time Anci was fine letting Lorica take the vanguard. When she went off her rocker it was a bad idea to be around her. Especially in a tightly confined area packed with disease ridden enemies lying in wait. As long as Lore’s grunting and clatter of her plate was still ringing out, Anci knew things were fine. She didn’t spend the time idly though, pulling out a her own little infectious mote and planting it into a broken, metal figurehead. The cracks running through it and the part where half the face was missing glowed red hot and gave off an appreciated wave of heat. The cloudy vapors rising from it obscured most of the view but Anci could see the metal puffing out like it was made of an elastic material, contracting and expanding as it lost more of the bust’s features. The steam cleared slightly and the stubby little creature left behind continued radiating heat. It crawled off of the pedestal with a little goading from Anci, its six small legs with claws shaped for digging scurrying it along at a fast pace. It’s corkscrewed shaped mouth kept expelling smoke as it rasped for breath, she got the feeling the cold wasn’t very good for it. With the frenzy of desperation it dug into the ground, the little legs extending out to pull the loose soil over it and covering up the bust’s half-face that formed part of its back. If any of the hive vampires came crawling or running out, Anci had her little firetrap lying in wait. “Unless you go in, probably a good idea to watch other sides of the manor. I will cover this way.” She had no intention of leaving the easiest and direct route to Lore to someone else. BATTLE COUPLE MODE-O ENGAGE! This sort of spectacle was another familiar feeling. There wasn’t a huge crowd baying for violence, there weren’t any technicians, weavers or spiritualists to bring them back if they died but when stripped away of all that it was the same thing at the heart of it. Anci might not have shared the same cocksure confidence Lorica had, but that didn’t keep a smile from her face as she slid her mask down over her face and walked away from the Keeper. She let Rasaki’s chain unwind from her arm, the heavy metal ball stopping just short of the ground as her other hand held the chain. Lore was already needling the wife, gauging for a reaction was Anci’s guess. Around them the gentleman gang were assembled to watch. Before they’d gone she’d asked if some of their own gang would come, the Pariahs were too busy to just watch but she’d feel a lot more confident if they had some friendly faces watching. There might not be much stopping the Gentlemen from simply murdering the pair of them if they only narrowly beat their bosses. Anci walked parallel from the husband, keeping a healthy distance from him. Part of it was courtesy, but she needed time to wind up Rasaki and for that she needed to keep some distance at first. “Ready when you are.” Carmen gets the gang busted While Carmen and Korso worked to stage an attention drawing spectacle outside of their own storefront, Anci wanted to see if she could kick in the hornet’s nest while it was empty. She found a quiet alley to hunker down in, posing as just another washed up vagrant. Carefully checking her enchanted paper to keep an eye on how the storefront end was progressing, she figured once things hit the fan it’d be pretty apparent if the deputies were all dispatched. Anci was willing to risk it if there was only one left behind, but she wasn’t looking for an unfair fight. |
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| Storyteller[ST] | Sat Nov 19, 2016 2:11 am Post #231 | ||||
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Yurim You succeed in dropping off your note on the back side of the mask, slipping away undetected. The ultimate outcome of the move isn't readily apparent at first. Even Ithuen's communications go quiet. The Friends come to you, glassy-eyed and numb or forcing back violent sobs. "He tore through us," they say. "We lost the first three guys in seconds. Two more were killed after they got flash-blind. They were surrendering and everything." "How are we supposed to fight him, or any of the other Sheriffs?!" another demands to know. "We can't win!" Later, you all receive a simple message on the 'quill from Ithuen Bearkiller: Please finish this. Tanya, Aufdein Tanya, you ask Aufdein if he could solve the problem of catching Rijnders off-guard. "Oh, certainly! Let's see, here. Could you send a few of your men to gather some materials?" When they return with some boards, stones, nails and scraps of wood, he sets to work and produces the following invention:
Where do you set this trap? He only made one as a prototype but it looks, surprisingly enough considering the materials, that it really can work as advertised. Alexandra, Aufdein You capture one of the golems of the Dispatch and dress it down. Then you ask Aufdein Korso to solve the problem of the golem not being equipped with anti-golem weaponry. "As good a problem as any for an inventor like me to solve!" he says, more chipper than how he's been in the past.
You fit the prototype Golem Persuader onto your golem, adding to its ramshackle look, since for all intents and purposes it looks like a few old pipes lashed together with some bits of wood. Where are you going to bring the golem now? Manor - Glug, Lorica, Anci, Neriah Glug, Anci, and Neriah, you all form a cordon around the outside of the manor as Lorica goes in with her Wellplate to clear it. The screams and hisses are ungodly, and the fight feels endless with only one person working on it. Neriah's patrolling the cordon on her horse, identifying and helping take out any monsters that aim to retreat rather than fight for the hive. And there are many. A rush of them triggers your firetrap, Anci. In the end, their numbers compared to your own are too uneven and many manage to escape. Lorica, while you've cleared the hive for now, it's obvious that just systematic physical obliteration isn't enough to make this place permanently safe. Glug, you press through the manor to get a sense for it and you validate Lorica's thoughts. Glug, you estimate that this manor can be viably used as an ambush point for at least 12 hours, maybe stretched to 24 before the vampires become a problem again. There's your timeframe; if you start the ambush too late at this point, you expect the hive's resurgence to be a stumbling point for the Pariahs' efforts. By the time Glug's done with his survey, Neriah is returning back with Farethi clinging to her on the saddle. The vampire jumps down deftly from the beast, already rummaging through her satchel of alchemicals. "Is e-e-everyone alright?" She pulls out stray vectors that are half-buried in your skin and applies vampirism cures to everyone alongside any healing poultices as needed. Lorica, you're covered in gore. "Oh m-m-my, th-this is... did you get cut anywhere?" Luckily she doesn't seem too concerned about the gore providing additional risk of contracting the disease. "<Alright>," Neriah says in Bridgetongue. "<The point's secure and the route's secure. We ready to do this or what boss?>" She's looking at you, Lorica. "<Give me orders.>" How are you all going to bring Rijnders to this location? Apothecary - Carmen, Ansgar, Aufdein, Anci Your plan is to get a crowd of eager customers gathered at the Main Street Apothecary to sample goods, meet Aufdein Korso, and get a free barrel of pure water as a bit of a marketing stunt. From there you plan to act as if the water has been withheld by Sheriff Rijnders, coincidentally while he's patrolling by (which you know he does usually alone in this part of town, though his route occasionally overlaps with Amitiel's). However, just before you leave to distribute your fliers, Aufdein Korso rushes over to you. "Pardon me! Excuse me. I hate to impose. I heard from that chap Ansgar that you're advertising my presence to the whole city. I don't mean to be rude, but I fear a move like that would spell utter catastrophe for all of our efforts, as I am a wanted man by both the Dispatch and Kir Lantos. I have a distinct feeling the ensuing fallout would cause a mass extermination of the crowd and much disaster besides. Please reconsider!" You do reconsider, and go back to remove mention of Aufdein from the pamphlets. The text is otherwise unchanged and everything proceeds as originally intended. Aufdein is still present, but in disguise. Customers start flocking to the Main Street Apothecary for alchemicals and fresh water as planned. The loosely organized mob of people is small, but still big enough to not fit completely into the shop's tiny building. By now you are already aware via communiquill that the manor has been cleared. Farethi, who is present, is working as hard as she can to keep up with the influx of purchases. At one point in the process Ansgar peeks out to check the clocktowers. "Almost time." Sheriff Rijnders is coming. As he approaches, and during a peak in your business, your supply of water 'runs out.' Faces become confused, searching for an explanation. Ansgar looks suitably surprised, and Aufdein is of course faceless. And it's all the Sheriff's fault. "Bearkiller?" someone asks, perplexed. "No, the new guy. Rijnders." "He's an exterminator, not a lawman," another contributes. "Isn't he just?" Aufdein adds. "Have you seen the posters? The Marquise will be here in a month, and probably her lapdog Hatiri too. They're trying to clean house. Make the place look 'good,' at least good in the eyes of the Balefiren bourgeois. By any means necessary. So no wonder they cut our clean water... they want all of you to die!" "What?" "How could they get away with that?" Plenty of murmuring blending together. Sheriff Rijnders is on horseback, posture slouched. He is unmistakable in appearance. A bit skinny, tan-skinned, with a shaved head. Sharp, angular tattoos glow gold. He doesn't wear a scarf, gloves or flatbrim. One hand is on the reins while the other is pressed over a gash in his side. Hearing Korso's words, he stops, hanging back and watching. No one in the angering crowd, including Korso, seems to notice. After a few seconds he puts a finger to a metamana tendril on his ear and speaks into it, gold eyes focused on the mob. Likely summoning backup. "Have you seen all the bodies hanging off the Point since he arrived?!" Korso says, picking up momentum. "And those are only the ones his people have captured long enough to hang! It doesn't include all the people the so-called law enforcement have murdered in cold blood!" He's speaking even more than that, but some of his words are getting drowned in the otherworldly tension that's rising through the crowd. Most of them are so lost in Korso's entreaties, which they already agreed with, that they probably forgot why the subject came up in the first place. Rijnders approaches as Dispatchers and their deputies start to pour in from this precinct and those neighboring. You did not expect for their numbers to be supported even further by four Wolves of Lantos, but you suspect that is nothing compared to how it could have been. Had they known Aufdein was here, Kir would have brought his entire retinue... and himself. "Excuse me," Rijnders says. "I'm going to need all of you to quit this assembly at once. This is your first and only warning before decisive action is taken. I will count to five, I suppose." The warning is barely heard. Now Korso's shouting. He's a bit caught up in the moment, too. His voice booms. "When faced with tyranny, what should the normal person do? When they know they'll die anyway, should they sit around and wait to die? Of course not! They'll fight back!" The Sheriff releases an exasperated breath. "Clear it out." Crossbow shots ring out from deputies. Blades start sliding into flesh. Spells pierce the darkness. The wolves' markings turn solid red as they fight in hybrid form on horseback. Since they have no suspicions of Aufdein and believe the situation to be under control, they do not howl. Screaming. While it might seem like the situation has been lost, the aggressions from the Dispatch and the wolves is the last spark needed to ignite a full-blown riot. Unfortunately, the riot is centered right smack dab in and outside the Main Street Apothecary. It isn't a gathering of itemless peasants, either. The average citizen of Nine Angels is armed and decidedly not helpless. Emboldened greatly by Korso's words, many of them charge straight into battle. Some within the storefront overturn display cases to create barricades and improvised weapons. The shop's window shatters. A mage nearby is starting fires. Farethi is trembling in the back room, trying to gather her most valuable products but flinching whenever she hears a particularly loud noise. Ansgar is stuck in the battle. He's got his head down, taking on full-blown horse charges with his antlers and bulk in order to prevent the extermination of the mob. A wolf cries over the din, "Pariah! The antler one is a Wine River Pariah!" No time for him to react. The Abnathean roars in pain, eyes snapping closed, clawing at the glow beneath the lids. When he opens them again, his eyes are completely white and the sockets around them are burned to a crisp at harsh angles. No iris in those eyeballs, no pupils. Ansgar wavers where he's standing, staring straight forward, hesitant to attack anything around him. He's lost in the chaos of the riot. The riot combat golem Amitiel comes tearing down main street, her hooked tendrils shimmering like a mane behind her. "Bring them low," her voice echoes melodically. "Bring them before the Lowest, for they have squandered their gifts." "That should be enough. Amitiel, kill the antler man. Ansgar I believe," Rijnders tells the Celestial, turning his horse. "I need to search. Where one cockroach is seen, a dozen more are hidden." Ansgar shakes his head, eyes wide. "No," he mutters to himself. "Not like this." He tries to focus, but he's clearly shaken. People much smaller than him are bumping into him, and that alone is enough to make him waver on his feet and grope about blindly. The riot golem pulls her body in lurching, unnatural movements toward Ansgar, sweeping aside berserk citizens with her double shields and hooked tendrils. A resplendent halo pulsates around her headpiece. "Draconid. I will move you gently, from a position of humbleness, to the next world, wherever that may be." Taking a deep breath, the draconid tightens his stance and maintains his grip on his sabre, angling his body and blade toward the sound of the golem's voice.
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| Mobster Man | Mon Nov 21, 2016 12:48 pm Post #232 | ||||
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Of course his little act was a success... and when he went back to the Friends he found them hurt. His injured allies... allies injured by authority that did not deserve their power, it reminded him of his old gang, the fact that they were murdered for entertainment. Yurim stepped forward, "I am not training you to fight... but that changes. I am not someone that enjoys killing, but if Rijinder's men hurt you... then Rijinder dies. Once you're all patched up and Rijinder is dead, I'll be back. I'll make sure you all will never have to take a beating like that ever again. Now rest, Friends, leave the rest to me." With that said Yurim went back to Castle, donning his costume of the One Shadow and making sure his mask was snug on his face. He figured he should head to the apothecary, if he could get a look at Rijinder then Yurim could contact the others via communiquill and start the plan. He mounted his horse and rode through the nearest shadow, appearing behind the apothecary. He could hear the shouting and anger as he took a longer route along to stay hidden. He knew the road to take to get the man to the manor, he knew where the trap was, it was time to get to work. He wrote quickly to the others, 'Will lure him away. For once I am willing to kill.' He didn't like that last bit... but he needed to make sure Rijinder was dead, even if that meant driving his own knife into his chest. Yurim ended up entering one of the more open streets and grinned beneath his mask, it was time for the Shadow Dancer to shine. He called upon his power of shadows, morphing the closest shadow to Rijinder and coaxing it up onto Rijinder, the shadow grew wings to fly straight to Rijinder's ear, "Hello Riji-boy. Do you like my latest theft? Oh, it's not just the water, just some information about it being taken by your boys and suddenly I stole the most important thing to you. Your credibility. A water thief that murders citizens for no reason and lost to the One Shadow? You won't have a job after today unless you can take my head, oh, but you can't leave the riot completely alone, oh what to do what to do." He added in a nice long laugh before replying, "If you'd like to see me for the first and only time before your career ends, turn your head to the far right." Yurim tipped his tophat to Rijinder before starting off down the street towards the manor, with his head start he should be able to stay in sight and lead him to the manor, but just in case he could let out a few nice demeaning laughter. Once he made it, he would send his horse away, it would only get in the way once the fighting started. OOC
Edited by Mobster Man, Mon Nov 21, 2016 12:50 pm.
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| Keter | Mon Nov 21, 2016 2:02 pm Post #233 | ||||
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There was little that Keter could think to do in the final moments but wait and watch how things were set up. To watch and learn how the rest of the group acted and reacted, how they prepared and planned further, how far they had come since that first day. While they may have been thick-headed, stubborn, irritable, and short-tempered, it seemed that they could, indeed, learn from past mistakes and carry on with new knowledge. Unlike that first job that had been designed for them to fail, a trap that they had walked face-first into, the time limit on this mission was very real and relatively short. Everything would need to go off with the fewest of hitches, and considering all of the different moving parts involved that seemed very unlikely to be perfected. An ally of theirs may very well die in the process, even if they were successful, and they would have to cut mourning short and move on. Yurim's band of footpads ran into expected problems, a group of Pariahs cleared out the manor temporarily, and it did not take long for people to gather around the apothecary shop. Maybe Keter should have helped Yurim train the Friends, rather than just leaving them wholly at the thief's command. Perhaps if he had done so, then more of them would have survived, but at the same time it was difficult to feel mournful for career criminals. Maybe after the mess of this daily cycle was over, but for now he merely needed to focus on the plan ahead. Maybe he would be proven wrong. Maybe this ragtag bunch of Pariahs could manage to pull something together at the last second and minimize critical losses to their core group. Maybe they would all end up dead or bleeding out like stuck pigs in a gutter without even the Ethereal to help them. Only time and execution would tell. Keter watched from upon Malam's, his large shadow umbra's, back atop a sturdy Nine Angels roof well out of sight. With its help he could keep pace with any foe by merely fading into the darkness with it. He stretched his eyes on the scene in the street below and its inevitable unfolding. The enemy pieces of the plan were making their way onto the board. The enemy arrived and it did not take much time for the crowd at the apothecary to be worked into a riotous frenzy. The Black Monkey had only ever been a part of planned rebellions before, people who wanted to fight for something better, who were willing to take the time to learn before going out and facing the enemy, but in Balefire almost everybody was armed and versed in how to use their armaments. Already he could see the problem with that as Pariah allies were being caught up in the middle of the madness, but the riot was not his job. If the Shadow Bait was to survive the Shadow-Killer, then none of them could be left alone with him for too long as he became baited towards the manor. On his horse he had reliable speed despite his injury, not to mention his anti-shadow abilities that made him so infamous. It did not take much longer after things began falling to the Abyss that the so-called "One Shadow" began taunting Jakob Rijinders, the first bait dangling on the hook before a mighty beast, taking off only once the prey's attention was caught. Upon Malam's back, Keter would silently stalk his way across the roofs of Balefire, being careful not to use any of his Shadowdancing abilities before the time was right, lest Jakob had the ability to since the shadow being manipulated and his focus broke from the first bait. If ever Rijinders managed to close the gap between himself and Yurim, that would be when Keter would strike. Shifting through the shadows with his riding beast nearest as he could to the sheriff before leaping from his own mount and drop-kicking their enemy from his horse. The large feline mount would follow by striking at the horse's hind-quarters, attempting to chase it off with deep snarling sounds while the Black Monkey-- or as the Pariah wanted posters had been referring to Keter, the Shadowboxer-- securing the attention of Jakob Rijinders. "Are you really the sheriff that the shadows fear?" Keter would mock while dodging as necessary. Fighting Jakob here, by himself, would be a bad idea, but goading him into following might work wonders, "Some weak loser like you? No way you're actually that evil freak. What can you do, really?" With that, Keter would take off on foot, aiming to lead Jakob down another one of the paths towards the manor, hoping that the words rightfully infuriated the enemy and tunneled his vision further. OOC
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| Alexandra | Mon Nov 21, 2016 3:23 pm Post #234 | ||||
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The fight at the apothecary reached Alex's attention quite quickly. She mounted Apple and sent Mira off to the mansion - while set onto her own metal arm was the golem persuader, alongside a box of nails she had glued to it. She took one look back at Mira before departing. "And don't let that Senka grab control back, okay? I believe in you." She mentally forced fate to obey her command as well. Alex grabbed Caedis when she passed by the vampire. "Come with me, I'm going to need some help if we are doing a real rescue here." She bolted down the street on Apple's back with the heavy weapon she had mounted to herself resting on the horse's back. They wound through the streets as quick as the big horse could take them, then Alex dismounted before entering the riot zone. She intercepted Froggu before it could leave and took its reins, then gave the reins of Apple to Caedis, if he was around, or held both reins in one hand quite awkwardly. She reached the front of the pack just in time, and immediately stared pushing Ansgar onto Apple. Ansgar, get on Apple and get out of here. Caedis can lead the way." Alex turned to the oncoming golem, and drew out a fistful of nails. She loaded them quickly, targetting Amitiel's legs before grabbing the reins of Froggu and bolting away. If Caedis hadn't come, she'd tell Apple to follow her on Yurim's horse instead. Apple was smart, right? Alex bolted into the forest, heading straight towards the mansion on a road they had hopefully cleared well enough. When she arrived, she fully intended to give Mira the persuader. Edited by Alexandra, Mon Nov 21, 2016 9:45 pm.
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| Carmen | Mon Nov 21, 2016 6:03 pm Post #235 | ||||
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The street descended into chaos, as did the scene inside the shop. Displays were overturns, furniture thrown against the door and the windows, and weapons drawn en masse. Glass shattered, bottles and flasks exploded in rains of alchemical concoctions, and vials rolled across the room, threatening to stumble anyone unfortunate enough to step upon them. As potions and tonics flowed and mixed in unpredictable puddles on the floor, sparks sputtered, smoke billowed, and the smell of an acrid compound filled the store. The disorder inside, however, paled in comparison to that in the road as Rjinders, his deputies, and even a quartet of werewolves assaulted the gathered throng. The riot golem loomed in and moved for Ansgar, making Carmen's heart skip. She lunged forward, meaning to try and save him. He wants to die! Inferna shouted within her, and Carmen's feet shuffled with uncertainty. "Not like this." Carmen replied. Her eyes fell on Alexandra, who was ushering the blinded Abnathean onto a horse. It would have to be enough, but Carmen worried that it may not save him. The terrifying golem was so close, and its orders had been clear as crystal. "Korso!" she screamed over the din, grabbing him by the arm. "We must leave!" She pulled him to the back room, placing her feet carefully around the broken glass and rolling vials, putting her skills as a nimble dancer to use. As she moved through the shop, she scooped up the bundles of notes that had been paid by their many patrons that morning - she would need these to rebuild, or to purchase more property. She even gave the vampire a kick to get her attention, and nodded for her to follow. Once they were in the back she wove her hands slowly, summoning the same magic she had to bring the spring water to the apothecary, moving the far end of the portal to the common room in the Castle. As she cast the spell, her eyes went bloodshot, her face drained of colour and her knees quaked beneath her. She was not a practiced sorceress; the fount of mana from which she had to call upon was desperately low, drained too many times over the past day. Carmen put her hand out, clutching on to Korso for support, unable to keep herself upright without him. "We need to step through," she said, pointing at the section of wall that shimmered and undulated with her enchantment. "Please, Korso. Before Rjinders realizes that you are here. He can not be made to chose between you and The One Shadow." OOC
Edited by Carmen, Tue Nov 22, 2016 1:07 am.
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| Glug Photall | Mon Nov 21, 2016 6:14 pm Post #236 | ||||
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It was Lorica who went in first. Glug stood ready, arrow nocked, alongside Anci and Neriah. He was all too happy not to follow Lorica in, as the stench was strong enough from the outside. It was Anci and the mounted Neriah who took out most of the vampires that managed to escape from Lorica’s bloodlust, with Glug having not much to do at all. He did put down a couple of stragglers that had somehow survived the initial attacks and the fire-trap, however. But when it was over, Glug moved in to get a feel for the mansion as a whole. Given what he saw inside, he figured they had perhaps a day at most before things got hairy inside again. He relayed this information to everyone via the communiquill before accepting a vampire cure just in case; there was no sense in not taking it, whether he’d actually been wounded or not. He then began to set up various nests throughout the front of the mansion on the second and third floors. He would move quickly between them as necessary, taking a shot or perhaps two or even three before moving on, never staying in one position for too long. He left a trio of arrows at each of the nests that he cleared away the rubble from, allowing him to nock arrows even more quickly and readily than usual. When everything was set up, he moved to one of the nests and crouched low. If the others were doing their jobs, then Rjinders should arrive soon enough. He drew three of his Lightning Rods and nocked one of them, settling into the readiness necessary for what was hopefully very soon to come… OOC
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| Tanya | Mon Nov 21, 2016 9:02 pm Post #237 | ||||
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Aufdein's psychopath-stopping device was a fascinating piece of machinery. It did seem unnecessarily complicated to make a device that had to detect neurotypicality before activating, but as long as it worked as advertised, Tanya was willing to let Aufdein make the machine more interesting than a tripwire would have been. She brought the device up to the manor and placed it unobtrusively a short ways beyond the entrance, where anyone entering would inevitably pass through but could also be surrounded without too much difficulty. She was poking around at it, trying to figure out how it detected psychopaths. From the explanation Korso had given, it seemed it must scan her mind every time she passed by it. If that was the case, it might be possible to reuse the technology for even more useful purposes. Caelum was standing a short distance away, watching her with characteristic nervousness. She'd sent Caedis away, down to the apothecary. Madame Tanya was reasonably confident that he wasn't a psychopath, but "placid of mind" was possibly the single worst combination of words to describe the vampire. She checked the parchment, hoping for some news from him. A few of the other Pariahs had jotted notes since she'd last checked. It seemed like something was going on. Maybe something big, seeing as none of the Pariahs had had time to explain the situation in full. She was about to head down to the shop to try to find out what was going on when a new message scrawled itself on the page in Caedis messy scrawl. Things went south. Shadow boy is luring Rijinders there. Get ready. I am trying to get Angar away on Sparky's horse. Too much noise here. I'm starting to lose it. She crammed the parchment back and waved down the other Pariahs in the manor. "Positions, everyone! Rijinders is coming." Caedis' note had been unusually coherent. He often got that way at the edge of a breakdown. Madame Tanya was worried about him. His normal self wasn't exactly sane, but he was at least able to distinguish between what was real and what wasn't. When he broke down, he lost that. Until they met again, though, she couldn't help him. The more immediate issue was Rjinders. She positioned herself just beyond the trap and prepared herself to fight. |
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| Lorica | Mon Nov 21, 2016 9:56 pm Post #238 | ||||
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Of course the vampire cure smelled disgusting. That was just her luck. She let Farethi rub the unguent into her skin. "No cuts. I have some armor." She didn't explain more than that, not wanting to get into the intricacies of Wellplate and why she hadn't used it before now. Lorica let the vampire work, watching her. "I mean no offense... but how does this happen? Some vampires are like you, all collected and normal. Then there are some that are no better than beasts. What's the difference? Are there strains of vampirism?" It wasn't a subject she'd really explored before, but now that she'd noticed she found her curiosity piqued. The manor still smelled like shit, but they didn't have the time or resources to completely clean it out. Still, she found its reek irritating given her keen sense of smell, and so Lorica chose not to station herself within its rotting interior. She ended up on the outside of the house watching Tanya set up a trap for psychopaths. That was all she'd been told; she hadn't been near the device when Audfein cobbled it together. She wasn't sure how it could possibly work, but then again, she barely understood how something as big as a scorchline could skip across the Ethereal plane. Clearly better minds than hers were at work in Nine Angels. Lorica spent the downtime getting ready. She smeared the blades of her knives with an ashen mixture to reduce their gleam. She wore clothes well-suited for the darkness of their surroundings, dappled grey and green stripes that would help disguise her. Her face was similarly patterned with camouflage paint. The main advantage they had was that Rijinders wasn't expecting all the Pariahs to be here. The stealthier she could be, the better. Tanya eventually warned them that Rijinders was on his way. The Keeper nodded and stood. "Remember to let me have the first crack at this [removed]er. Don't everyone strike until I get a chance to take him." She'd already asked Neriah to play a different role. The Outer Street Paladins and their leader were waiting around the periphery of the estate grounds, ready to distract anyone who approached besides Rijinder. If the worst happened and his entire accompaniment of deputies (or any werewolves) followed, the mounted gang would do their best to distract them so they could target the Sheriff alone. The only person she didn't trust them to engage was Amitiel. Her orders had been strict on the matter: if the combat golem approached they were to stay hidden and not get in its way. It would cut through them. She didn't want all of their blood on her hands, not for following her orders. She jogged down the hills around fifty feet further out from the hidden trap. There was a small copse of darkplants here, a corpse of spindly trees and tall fronds that hadn't been pruned back in years. She sank into the flora, disappearing into its midst. The Keepers embraced stealth, but there was more to it than that. Her outline dissipated, taking on the shape of the surrounding plants. The color of her clothes, skin, and hair changed to better mimic the coloration of her surroundings. She settled in to wait, barely breathing, hoping that Yurim and Keter could lead the man all the way here without getting caught. If or when the Sheriff arrived she would stay within hiding, allowing the man to approach the manor and his back was turned towards her. Once he drew close enough to trigger the trap (or if it didn't activate) she attack from hiding, flinging her teleporting dagger at the man's back. If it struck or landed nearby she'd immediately travel across the distance between them and attack with her other knives, flickering into invisibility. His horse would be her first target so that he'd be forced to flee on foot, then Rijinders himself. She'd keep following and attacking the man until one of the two of them was dead, only becoming visible when she struck. Lorica had no interest in questioning him and was afraid one of her companions would ruin the ambush by attempting diplomacy.
Edited by Lorica, Mon Nov 21, 2016 10:59 pm.
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| Anci | Tue Nov 22, 2016 12:38 am Post #239 | ||||
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The viscera sprayed wide and far, but she didn’t expect this much of a blow back. Between the wolves, the golem and Rijinder’s ability to blind people it felt like their cobbled together assassination was going to be crushed before they even got a try. Messages were flying fast on the enchanted pieces of paper though. The plan was to make a go of it now. Inside the shop it looked more like Nine Angels was coming to an end with the deputies and the people of Nine Angels going after each other and destroying the place in the process. This was exactly why Anci didn’t want anything like this done near the shop or the Castle. Carmen though deserved credit where credit was due, Anci was impressed with the escape plan she had. She hesitated at the portal though, Alex and Caedis were working to get Ansgar out and she should have pitched in. Even if it was just with something to distract the celestial golem with. Anything she would have thrown out risked drawing too much attention and keeping Rijinder here at the riot. “I will look on the other side for you.”. Her softly spoken parting comment down she ducked through the portal. Carmen didn’t look all that stable, even that moment might have been too much. All Anci could contribute now to Ansgar’s fate was prayer, she had a little more faith in her companions but wasn’t against the notion of divine intervention here. In the meantime they had to get the stage ready for Rijinder. If everything was working correctly the bait would be drawing the sheriff along the planned route while the others set up the ambush in proper. Outside the grounds Neriah’s gang was somewhere. The fact that Anci couldn’t pinpoint them was a relief, hopefully Rijinder wouldn’t be able to either. Wherever they were, Anci had asked the soldiers from the Dalca’s gang to stick with them and keep their eyes out for the werewolves specifically. If there was anything short of Amitiel that Anci would wager could catch up and make a problem, it’d be those wolves. As for herself Anci busied herself readying some visitors from the Otherside, taking the extra time to extract them in a less intrusive and less painful manner. She concealed both of them outside, leaving them under rubble and just out of direct line of sight from the most likely path Rijinder would wind up taking. She had no idea if they might accidentally trigger Korso’s trap and wanted to make sure they wouldn’t be caught by it if Rijinder stayed outside the manor. With those prepared Anci herself waited in the manor for Lore’s strike to land, the trap to spring or the fires from beyond itself to roll through the front door.
OOC glossary! Edited by Anci, Tue Nov 22, 2016 12:46 am.
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| Storyteller[ST] | Tue Nov 22, 2016 2:28 am Post #240 | ||||
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Chase - Yurim, Keter Your efforts end quite decisively at "calling upon your power of shadows." This is the Shadow-Killer we're talking about. You manage a short greeting and a single-sentence taunt about your latest theft before your shadowy manifestation violently cuts out. Not just canceled -- obliterated. Like a piece of you has been ripped out, and will take a long time to heal. Provided you survive this. Not only that, the resulting backlash sends a flash ripping into your eyes. For a good minute or two, you can't see and have to rely on your senses of the shadows and your mount's self-preservation to ride ahead. [You can no longer use Trick of the Light]. "Yep. Pariahs are here. The One Shadow among them," Rijnders says into his metamana, speeding into a gallop and cracking a grin. "I got a trace. He's finished." [Sheriff Rijnders now has a full understanding of your location. You cannot use any abilities, skills or feats to mitigate his awareness.] You start off toward the manor on horseback, the Sheriff hot on your heels. He's slinging beams of light that leave burns as they graze you and your horse, and he's getting closer by the moment. The streets blossom in light, but it's not normal. Shadows aren't magnifying -- they're going away, breaking the laws of physics. Thinning out, cracking. You can feel your sense of the world slipping away. Before they go away completely, Keter, you shoot out of one of the shadows on your umbra mount. But this is the Shadow-Killer. In the split-seconds you're within but emerging from the shadows, they close around you as they destroy themselves. Cutting into you. You and your mount do exit successfully, but you're both covered in deep cuts. Exit wounds. Nothing debilitating or life-threatening, but you're bleeding everywhere. A part of your soul is crushed, and it hurts badly, but you press on with the drop-kick attempt. [You can no longer use Shadow Shift or Hidden Companion. Also, Sheriff Rijnders now has a full understanding of your location. You cannot use any abilities, skills or feats to mitigate his awareness.] You knock Rijnders messily off his saddle but not his mount. Tangled and hanging from the stirrups awkwardly, he unleashes a flurry of light beams from every direction. You rely on your superb athletic ability to avoid them, since there are no longer any shadows in the vicinity. He does hit you a few times from sheer number of attacks, but they only inflict minor burns. "Has Midwinter come early?" Rijnders says, eyes sparkling with mirth. He pulls back onto the saddle and digs his spurs in, taking off after you. He speaks into the metamana again: "Shadow-Boxer too. A real threesome." During the chase the Sheriff proves to have skillful control of his mount, who jumps and weaves around obstacles with little bidding. That frees him up to fire off abilities like the dickens. Yurim and Keter, you're being targeted by literally constant beams of light from every angle of your shadowless surroundings. These are interspersed with the occasional pulsating flash, a light so bright it blinds you for a few seconds even if you close your eyes. How do you deal with this? So far, Rijnders' mental state strikes you as overly excited but still in control of himself. Apothecary/Castle - Carmen, Korso, Farethi Aufdein Korso is staring at the violence he wrought. It's hard to tell what he's feeling, being that his expression is hidden, but his body language seems impressed, taken aback, and maybe a bit disturbed. You notice something rustling under his cloak -- wings about to unfurl. He's staring at his own hands when your shout snaps him out of whatever he's thinking. Korso jumps to follow you. You also kick Farethi to get her moving as well, making her jump and squeak in protest. Both of them follow you through the portal without question, and you all emerge to safety in the Castle. Or as close to safety as you can. The vampire darts deeper into the Castle without a word, but Korso lingers with anxiety obvious in his stance. "This is bad. Really bad. I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do? Or maybe invent?" Carmen, you notice some new messages on the communiquill. On my way. Making sure Im not being tailed. Need shelter, dont feel safe. - Ithuen hey what the hel is going on in the lite distrikt? i herd ther is a ryit? is Czajka ok? plese respond. - yevhen dalca Manor - Glug, Tanya, Lorica, Anci, Keter, Yurim Glug, you set up nests and get entrenched, ready to rain hell on Rijnders when he arrives. Tanya, you come up with a plausible explanation for how the Psychopath Stopping Device works and set it up right at the entrance gate to the manor. Lorica, you ask Farethi about why some vampires are calm and composed and some are half-feral. "Imythess is th-the land of the gods, ttt-t-they say. Blessed with mmmmore variety of sapient sp-sp-species than any other. So it m-m-makes sense that there are many, mmm-mmany strains." You set up, Lorica, past Tanya and beyond the trap, camouflaged and ready to go. You also ask Neriah to guard the periphery with her horse gang, a task that she accepts with a dutiful salute. Anci had also asked the Dalca helpers to join Neriah's efforts, further bolstering them. Anci, you also set up plenty of summons at the manor for when Rijnders trips your ambush area. Yurim and Keter, because of your skills you manage to lead Rijnders closer to the manor. He's close enough now that those in the manor can hear the sounds of fighting. Rijnders has been giving and receiving progress updates through the metamana. Notable comments as the chase went on: "Focus on the other Pariahs at the riot. I've got the two Shadowdancers." "They're obviously leading me somewhere. Group Two, to my position." "Any more Pariah appearances?" "That's worrying. They're probably leading me into a trap, then." "Group Three, to my position on the double. First Squad, control the riot." "Do the wolves want the Pariahs? They're mine. Tell them to stay on the riot and support the First. Whether they follow your orders is up to them." He reins up as soon as the manor is in view. "Two? What's your ETA? I've been led to an abandoned mansion in the Dark District. Nothing screams 'trap' more than this. Get your lazy asses over here now." He seems so lucid and clear-thinking right now that he could pass as a neurotypical. Riot - Alexandra, Caedis Alexandra, you are trying to interfere with an active confrontation. Amitiel gives you one look before unfurling and coiling her net gun with an additional limb. "Another Pariah detected." You slide back from the force of the shot, stuck in a tangle of rope plus the reins of the two horses you have with you. Having received some help from you, Ansgar awkwardly climbs onto Apple. He's still unable to find the stirrups, so he digs his foot claws into your horse's flank, making her scream and struggle. Because of her horsey luck, her reins free themselves from the tangle and Ansgar finds them with his hands. Kicking the horse, Apple charges off in a panic, trailing blood. That's about as far as the horse's horsey-luck goes. One of Amitiel's many hooked tendrils buries itself into Apple's flank. Ansgar is juddered in his spot, almost thrown. Swearing, he feels around to find the obstruction. Caedis, you help him out. The draconid grabs the chain and rips it out with all his might, brute-force, taking a huge chunk of your mount's flesh away with it, Alex. You're not sure if Apple will survive a wound bleeding that much, but you have to press on with what you have. Caedis, you take a hook to the stomach as you're helping Ansgar escape. Though you manage to free yourself in a less bloody fashion than Apple, you're going to die a slow and painful death if your wound remains untreated. Amitiel turns, quivering more tendrils and preparing to charge at Ansgar and Caedis. By now you've loaded your fistful of nails into your GENUINE Golem Persuader and let it rip. Alex, do you really believe that a bunch of slapped-together pipes and pieces of wood, with no arcano-etchings whatsoever, no mechanisms, nothing -- do you seriously think that can break a bunch of nails down into raw mana and cast it out like a projector? Aufdein Korso could be the greatest inventor in the world and it still wouldn't work on a fundamental level based on your extensive knowledge of arcano-engineering. So that means the Golem Persuader... doesn't work. Not even a little. To you, it's nothing but nails and pipes, even if you did make some (unmentioned) half-assed attempt to believe what you objectively know can't work. Tendrils wrap around the both of them and jerk them onto the ground, squeezing until blood comes out. Even more shoot toward you, Alex, but thankfully the raw heat emanating from your body allows you to escape from the net by now. You avoid the tendril and try to mount Froggu, but one of Amitiel's hooks careens past you and rakes Anci's mount across the neck. It panics and flees without you, gushing blood. You're not sure if it'll survive. Amitiel is squeezing Ansgar and Caedis tighter and tighter, digging those hooks in deeper. It's a horrific spectacle. You're lucky enough that the wolves aren't on you, as they're too tied up with the riot to get to this part of the carnage. Ansgar is strong enough to fight back with pure muscle, and he's roaring. Looking more feral by the second. You hear the thundering of hooves behind Amitiel. Bolts of green and purple energy send spirals of unholy decay down the golem's flanks. The angel powering the golem screams, reeling in apparent pain. Another barrage of rapid-fire spells sweep across the distance, severing the metal hooked tendrils from their user. Czajka comes riding in from the lantern-light, hands and forearms blackened with unholy energy etched with glowing green cracks. She shudders as power flows up her back and creeps up her neck. Large obsidian mantis-claws rip out from her coat, between her shoulder blades: a mockery of demon's wings. [You did not give Czajka an assignment, freeing her up to keep a hand on the pulse of the Light District. You have good standing with Czajka.] "Hey!" Czajka roars at Amitiel, swinging one leg off the saddle and dropping off her horse's side. "Why don't you tell the Dispatch that the newest Wine River Pariah has arrived?!" "You?" Amitiel says, tilting her head. "Why?" The pause gives just enough time for the bounty hunter to rush over to half-dead Caedis and Ansgar, using her magic to dissolve the tendrils and hooks. They're both in very bad shape and won't be able to move on their own. "You are zakona?" "Alex! You alright?!" Czajka lines up her outstretched arms with her mantis-claws, barking a command for a swirling beam to hit Amitiel. The spell doesn't pierce, but it leaves a decayed dent and makes the golem stagger backward. Now the Celestial gets it -- and she's pissed, about to charge. "Buy me some time!" She turns around and uses her claws to carve a simple magic circle into the road around their downed allies. Looks to you like a teleportation circle. What do you do?
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8:40 AM Jul 11

