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Cairns on the Wine River [FIN]; [ST05][Signups Closed]
Topic Started: Sat Sep 17, 2016 1:22 pm (8,256 Views)
Glug Photall
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At first, he didn’t even realize something was sizzling. Then he smelled it, and his nose wrinkled semiconsciously. And then he heard it and had to stop, his gloves protecting him just long enough to pull the mask apart. He got it off quickly, the sickening sound of it being peeled away nothing to the threat of the acid that was now destroying it. He got his gloves off quickly as well and cast the lot of them aside, glaring at the melting things for the briefest of moments before turning to strip, nock, and release a Blighter’s Arrow into the darkness behind him.

His attacker then shot past him like an over-sized arrow toward Keter, and Glug scowled deeply. This idiot was slowing down his pursuit of the bastard responsible for this whole mess! He readied and launched three Winter’s Talons as quickly as most people could blink, seeking to end this fight before it went any further. Thankfully, something rather too-hot-to-handle seemed to have the same idea. He wasn’t certain which of the other Pariahs or friends this ”fiery defender” belonged to, but he was grateful for the distraction - one hopefully long enough for him to get to Kir.

Sadly, this was not to be. The flesh of his right arm began to rot and fall away almost immediately, and he uttered a growl that ended in a grunt as he pushed through the pain to launch a flesh-crawler arrow right at the traitor’s chest. With any luck, that would settle the mongrel once and for all.
Then he darted away before any retaliation could come, sprinting for the final compartment in which the bastard he was hunting was now hiding behind an entirely different mongrel.

When he finally did get into the room, he had a silver-tip nocked. He wanted to shoot right through Maksym, but that wasn’t going to happen, he knew. So he listened. He seethed internally, but he listened - and Lantos did have a point about the Taming, but payment had been granted for a job that Glug had been unable to complete. That was messing with his reputation, small though that was. And then there was the bloody mess he’d gone through from the moment he had been captured - the collar and the cage being the worst of it by far. Kir wasn’t getting off that easily. Whatever he was doing, though, it was making Glug uneasy; he didn’t like surprises.

But from what Kir said and from what Glug knew about Balefire, a single name came to his mind immediately: Karstoff. She was some kind of leader or some such for the Balefiren nobility. She knew everything that happened and everything that was said in Balefire, supposedly. It made sense. Glug didn’t particularly like the nobles, but he also knew little about them beyond their basic functions and their apparent lack of an ability to fulfill their assumed duties. They spent more time fighting with the sheriffs than actually accomplishing anything, from what he’d heard.

Glug was about to tell Lantos that Karstoff would get her due in time, that he was the one to die first - after Maksym, obviously - when the screeching began from somewhere behind him. But then his attention was on Kir’s next words, and he gritted his teeth. He tried to deny it, but the more he thought about it…the bastard was right. This was about a much bigger picture. This hadn’t just been about Lantos for some time.

“Your time will come, Lantos,” he told the man, straightening.

As much as he wanted to murder the bastard and his lap-dog right then and there, he had bigger fish to fry.

“You’re ruined after this, anyway,” he told him. “As soon as people realize how unsafe this whole thing is, your company will be about as trusted as I am, as will everything connected to it. And if the others don’t spread the word, I will: that you’re not worth the time of night, let alone anyone’s coins or notes. As satisfying as your blood would be, your demise has already come - or it will soon enough. And beyond that…you can’t run forever.”

With that, he turned back and ran toward Hatiri.

OOC
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Keter
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The member of the Pariahs with the most questionable sanity of the bunch even from the beginning seemed to have completely lost her mind, but Keter was able to easily ignore her delusional and ill-timed attempt at his life with a bit of help from their crew.

With that he continued on after Kir Lantos who gave a nice little speech about the greater good, the most impressive bit of which was how he could so eloquently put things when talking from his ass. He tried putting everything off on others, tried to dodge blame like it was being thrown at his head, but to the monkey it all still came down to a few simple facts, the biggest of which was how planned it all was. Kir knew what he was doing, he had just been lazy when collecting his scapegoats for his big pivotal moment. He saw the stampede coming and decided to throw some strangers in front of it, but he thought they would be trampled to death by the Taming of Balefire.

Perhaps it was the fiery one who was the only one still in possession of her head, tiring quickly of the pontification and posturing that the others could not help but indulge in as Kir Lantos shruggyed off their words in favor of his last-ditch plan. At the light of her power, Keter eagerly took what cover he could, shifting back through the shadows to a safer location.

Well, for what little good that did. Past all of the nonsense and blame-gaming that Kir was doing, the world and the scorchliner continued moving outside. Unfortuantely it tried to plow through some ice at a slower speed, and that simple was not going to work. The machination screamed and crumpled, the world crumpled and turned, and screams pierced through the cold air.

Keter did what he could to minimize impact, to move with and against the movements, but all he truly managed to accomplish was keeping quiet through the chaos. When at last it stopped, when the damage had been done and the dust settled, Keter stumbled from the wreckage and out into the cold, his vision unobstructed by the hat which had been lost in the madness of that utter destruction. He looked around, his mind trying to adjust to the rapid changes, the aches from impacts all sort of just falling under a singular mental blob that faded into the background beneath the cold.

For Keter, for his Shadow, there was no option. They had sworn to a single mission since the Taming of Balefire and they would see it through. Find Kir Lantos and end him, but there stood the Marquise, As much as he would have loved to fight with Hatiri, as curious as he was to see how close he could get to Karstoff, he wanted to at least die knowing that Kir Lantos had finally paid. To the Monkey, that wolf was a sickening creature that simply needed to be put down once and for all.

Of course, there was a glaring problem to Keter, the risk of it all. Hatiri was still there, Maksym he did not care to account for, and there was still no telling what Karstoff was fully capable, nor how far Kir would go to survive. For this story in the Black Monkey's legacy, the current Incarnation, Keter Laluan, driven by the mind of Surya, believed that he still needed to make at least one more deal. Yet this deal was not with the Ethereal, at least not yet, not until he was truly desperate for victory, but with the Shade he carried with him.

The Shadowboxer would move to find Kir Lantos.

"The contract. Our contract." Keter huffed through the cold, "To kill Kir Lantos. To try surviving. Now. This level is.. . Infusion. Infuse me with your power, Murrum. Murarerum Mignanma Mutrinero Nolite."


"Very well, Keter Laluan." The Shade clicked through the shadows.

Keter continued walking with a stumbling gait, practically drunken in movement from the dizziness of the crash, but all the same the transformation took place.

On the surface, Keter's horns grew larger and more jagged, twisting around his head in sharp angled with snapping sounds. His pale skin turned pitch black, void of color and lacking even simple shadows as his form became enveloped in darkness, his eyes becoming the last to blacken out. From his back came two jets of mist-like substance, black as his new skin and jagged like his horns, thin and long and outstretched, yet stationary like a simple painting that followed behind him.

Internally was far less pleasant for the Living Myth. His skin did not simply crawl, but felt like it was being frozen away, frostbitten down the very last cell within his blood, his eyes stinging from the cold envelopment of the Shade's power. The cracking of his horns' growth felt like a head-splitting migraine that burst to life with shocking pain from within his skill, wrenching his head back. The wings were a new sensation, but made him feel cold and heavy from within, despite the flooding of strength that came from contracting with his Shadow. Strangely though the cold seemed to fade quickly as his body adjusted to the painful sensation.

Yet despite all of those sensations, he continued forward, taking stumbles but not stopping, his focus to hunt down Kir Lantos.From the infused body of Keter, unholy darkness was reaching out, probing the shadows, trying to keep in touch with everything. Yet. when Keter found Kir Lantos, he would not speak alone.

"You don't have friends or allies, do you, Kir Lantos? You have tools. You use them at your leisure, Zuraw, Jakobs, Maksym, Hatiri, but when they can no longer provide you use, that's when you discard them, get ready to replace them." They spoke, Keter and Murrum at once, not quite a full overlay between the clicking of the demon and the frustrated yet cool accent of the monkey, "We don't have friends, either, but we do have one ally. Keter and Murrum, the Black Monkey and the Whispering Shadow. He told you, a swift death. Now, don't move. Share in the fate of Jakobs, at least a little. Own your mistakes, suffer for them, pay for them, like we do. The past returned to present."

The darkness at either Keter or the Shade's will, if such a thing was even separate in this state, would reach out to hold Kir Lantos down, to keep him from moving or escaping, to ready him for execution. The shadowy form of Keter's hands would seem to sharpen into blade-like shapes, the overlaying essence of the Abyssal's power making the Hands Like Knives as apparent as it could in such a blackened state. When they had the opportunity, Keter's body would kick off of the cold ground in a burst of speed and he would attempt to simply separate Kir's head from his shoulders, the consequences be damned.

Ketrum
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Mobster Man
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Yurim waited for his allies, letting them bash down the door as he listened to Maksym shout, he lost some of what he said do to the banging and the sound of rushing wind. He stepped in and opened his mind.

"Hey, Czajka, Ethereal, I need to make a deal here, ol' Maksym is talking really loud about trading his life for a deal, so lets make that deal even more expensive, shall we?"

Czajka spoke up, "But didn't Kir already tell him to nix the idea, since Aufdein appeared to have done what he wanted anyway?" She spoke into Yurim's mind at the speed of thought.

As far as I can tell, based on the ripples here, Maksym was going to cut a deal to bring Korso over here so that Kir could rip the blueprints -- or the runic override or whatever -- off of him. The cost for that was his life. Maksym was already hesitant to do that, but the deal was interrupted when Korso applied the override somewhere else in the vehicle, thanks to Tanya's last-minute persuasion for him to come back.

Maybe a different deal is in order. Something to take Maksym out of the picture completely? He's quite dangerous, and none of you have been able to properly deal with him yet.

"Alright, then how much to just have Maksym drop dead?"

Hold up, Yurim. This ain't right. Czajka's voice in your mind goes quiet for a few seconds. I double-checked it was the right deal. The hell? Don't tell me you're gonna go for it, man. He's been a thorn in our side, but he's never really wronged us like Kir has... right? Well, maybe Zuraw, I don't know. Shit. This just seems so sketchy, Yurim. I'm trying to see what the catch is, but I can't figure it out.

Yurim growled as he thought, "Yeah, you're right, this shit ain't right. To me this means one thing, Maksym is close to death anyway. Made to many deals is my bet but not strong enough to become a Stranger. So a different deal."

You hear Czajka make a sort of phew sound in your mind.

"The silver blades I have lodged in Lantos, make'em explode like a damn shrapnel bomb, shred his insides with silver."

Holy crap, the Stranger in your mind comments edgewise. Um, y-yeah, that seems doable. She spoke again, giving him his prices.

Yurim didn't even hesistate, "Take an eye. I know how much the Ethereal likes his eyes."

"Brace yourself. It's gonna be painful."

The transformation started before she even finished talking. He fell to his knees, screaming bloody murder as black sludge began to come out of his tear ducts, slowly washing over his eye, constricting around it as it seemed to be devoured. Yurim began to grit his teeth, slowly twisting it into a gruesome smile as he stood back up.

Yurim grinned as he now decided to respond to Kir's little speech, "Oh shut your damn mouth Kir, you Omega Mutt. You think we're that damn stupid? Zuraw is our friend, not your tool. Oh, and don't spout that 'justice' and 'fighting for a better Balefire' tripe and you just don't seem to get it, we're not the good guys, none of us here are. This is just the Bad killing off the Ugly. So man up dogman, scream for me."

He was still a bit shaky, he drew his daggers and waited, he couldn't dive in, once Kir was distracted by his allies he would dive in and bring his daggers to bare, even if they did little damage, he hoped it's magical ability might stall him for a second.
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Lorica
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PvP Fight (from OOC Discussion)

At this distance, there was little she could do. Her preternatural reflexes weren't enough to get out of the arrow's path, although she managed to avoid a mortal blow. It punched through the Wellplate on her left side. The arrowhead exploded into barbed tendrils, seeking to shred the vulnerable skin underneath the dreamsteel.

Lorica howled and writhed on the floor. She pried open her breastplate with her own claws to get at the arrow. She didn't hesitate to rend her own flesh, using her knife-like fingers to rip out the foreign object. Blood spattered the floor, gushing from her mangled chest. The Wellspring filled her, healing magic violently repairing flesh and muscle, forcing the torn meat to slough away.

It was times like this, when the corruption was sated from healing, that it was at its most vulnerable. The Keeper finally managed to emerge from the haze of violence and insanity, severing her link with the Wellspring. Her armor dissolved in to motes of silvery light, leaving her looking small and miserable. Her shirt and greatcoat were in tatters, a massive starburst-shaped scar stretching across her left breast where she'd removed the arrow. There was still a deep puncture would in her left shoulder from another arrow, the skin around it white with frostbite. The small amount of acid that hadn't vanished with her Wellplate ate at her skins.

Despite that, her mind was her own once more. She recalled the hallucinations, but she also remembered the fate of Marcus' lackeys. They were all dead, cut down by Lucius' Liferipper while she watched so many years ago. It seemed obvious now, but the throes of madness caused by the tainted Wellspring had made it impossible to come to grips with reality. She feared that if she borrowed its power once more she would lose her tentative hold on the situation.

Hey Bookworm.. She thought, shivering with pain and exhaustion. We're on your home ground, right? Any way you can help keep me sane? I... I might not be much use otherwise.

Oh, Lorica... are you really sure about this? Czajka spoke into the Keeper's mind. I've already done all I can to delay what's coming. Any more deals and some of the effects will mentally cripple you or even last for the rest of your life. There's a long pause followed by a frustrated sound from the Stranger. I'm sorry. It's like it's hellbent on getting parts of you, since you've been so willing to offer your mind.

She managed a weak shake of the head. Thanks for trying, dear... but no. I can't... My body is mine. I won't share it with anyone except by choice. You tell the Ethereal to go [removed] itself.

Lorica coughed and pulled out a hefty kukri, the blade dyed blood-red from point to pommel. She gripped it weakly in her left hand and tied it in place with strips of cloth from her ruined clothes, knotting them with her teeth so that she wouldn't drop the enchanted weapon. The pain of her injuries didn't vanish, per se, but they were suddenly manageable. She could still feel them, but it felt like a dull pressure instead of incapacitating agony. There would be hell to pay later, but she couldn't let her injuries hold her back, not now.

I'm so tired of this.

The Keeper stood up, glancing at the elemental blocking her way. It was an impressive specimen, intimidating. She didn't like her odds of fighting her way past it... yet that was where she had to go. Lorica pulled out a throwing dagger, hurling it past the obsidian entity. The knife clattered to the ground in the next compartment. She gave the creature a small, mocking wave before vanishing, reappearing at the blade's location. Before the summon could realize what was happening she was on the move, running after Lantos and the rest as fast as she could manage.

She arrived in the chamber with the Wolves at the end of what seemed like a long tirade. Her companions were here. For a moment the hallucination remained, superimposing other features over theirs, but it faded a heartbeat later. Maksym was here, clearly focusing on something besides messing with her vision. Lorica arrived just as Lantos tried to convince the others that Zuraw was a traitor.

"Shut up, you asshole." Lorica drew a thick knife in her right hand, hurling it at Maksym. In flight it separated into a dozen small, needle-like blades, a cloud of sharp points. "I wouldn't believe you if you said Balefire was dark." With the Ethereal-touched werewolf hopefully preoccupied she turned her attention to his alfha, throwing a dagger at him that would shred his body with tendrils. She followed it up with another as soon as she could. "I could be drowning in the ocean and still swear it was fresh as rainwater if you claimed it was salty."

"Zuraw is one of us. She doesn't belong to you, or anybody else, not unless she chooses to be. She is her own person."
She drew a combat knife, pointing it at Lantos. By pressing her thumb into the crossguard and twisting it ninety degrees she triggered its internal mechanisms, launching the blade at the werewolf with the force of a crossbow bolt. "I piss on your offer. Die and be forgotten." She threw the useless grip of the dagger aside, replacing it with a bolo as long as her forearm. It began to vibrate as soon as it was unsheathed, filling the compartment with a high-pitched buzz.

The scorchliner hit the ice before she could pounce. Lorica slammed into the side of the room with enough force to make her see stars. She barely managed to avoid skewering any of her 'comrades' with the oscillating blade. She spat out blood and forced her way to her feet. Something shifted in her side, bones grating together. With the crimson kukri tied to her hand there was no pain. Hopefully the same could not be said for Lantos. She looked for the alfha, teeth pulled back in a grimace, ready to charge at the werewolf and carve into him with the vibrating bolo.

OOC
 
  • Used Greater Heal to get rid of the mortal injury, although she's still in a rough spot
  • Lorica's injuries have activated Risk Reward, so she has a Haste buff
  • Threw a Splitter Dagger at Maksym
  • Threw two Fleshcrawler Daggers at Lantos
  • Launched the Cascadian Protector at Lantos
  • The first ranged attack that hits either werewolf will be a Murderer's Gift
  • Any knives that hit will cause bleeding from Cut Deep
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Anci
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Anci’s Magical Ansgar Pony Adventure GoGoGoGo

She quietly went along with Ansgar out into the ethereal. When a hulking, undead draconid insisted on taking someone for a ride, the safest option was to go without protest.

Outside Anci felt a lot unsafer, damaged as it was the scorchliner was still a barrier against all the senka outside. Even without being harmonized they were still flocking, a part of her was worried about Lore, Alex, any of the others who were harmonized enough and caught out in this mess.

Ansgar was doing his best as he could, but he couldn’t fend them off while keeping up any good speed. She had to earn her fare here.

Pulling Rasaki out she swung the weapon up underneath Ansgar’s midsection and looped it around itself, tying it on like a belt around the Abnathean. Rasaki’s anchor in herself would keep her on Ansgar even if her sense of balance was thrown off by her fairly unusual platform. Now she could feel the dull ache in her body coming back from the impacts earlier, Anci knew she wouldn’t be pulling much fancy footwork up here.

Instead she opted to stay offensive, extending Rasaki’s chain and blade out while whipping it around in a wide circle. It was only so much a deterrent to the ethereal plane inhabitants, for any of the faster, bigger and craftier ones Anci could user her limbs to wrap Rasaki around it and keep the momentum going while throwing up a thin membrane of black metal to absorb their impacts. It wouldn’t stop a determined assault, but Anci got the impression senka were closer to animals than malignant entities.

AA is not here to help you when your car breaks down, instead we’re hear to see how Alex and Ithuen are handling Eldritch National Leader Fun Times

Anci slipped off and into the hole Ansgar made. It didn’t take any kind of advanced medical knowledge to see Ithuen was messed up pretty bad. Gingerly Anci stepped through the scorchliner looking for whatever assailant did this. It looked clear. At least if the sounds further along in the scorchliner were to be believed they were well away from the action now.

She got to work fast, she didn’t know if it was common for elves or some gloomwood variant to bleed brass but either way a missing leg was a serious injury. They weren’t much but she had some supplies from Farethi and got to work trying to apply a tourniquet to the leg then hand.

Ithuen! Ithuen can you hear me?” The ex-sheriff wasn’t even making intelligible words, Anci was just hoping to get a response to stimulus. A look in her direction or anything for a quick guess at just how far gone Ithuen was.

Then Korso yelled out over the metamana frequency that their ride was about to get rough.

Ansgar! Ice!” She wasn’t certain he had his metamana anymore, and given how much he was shouting Anci doubted he did. She didn’t spare time to see how he got ready. The lucky bastard stood a better chance just jumping off and rolling for it, Ithuen didn’t have that luxury.

Throwing Rasaki with one hand, it curved to wrap itself across lengthwise in the car. Anchored between two posts the tried to wedge Ithuen against the wall and wrap herself around the elf and the chain.

Alex! Help! Over here!

And then the world went upside down all around and backwards

She didn’t feel anything after the impact, just a loud ringing. It felt like every limb was frozen in place, they weren’t moving. Blinking a few times, the world wasn’t spinning that violently. Anci tried moving her arms again. She could see them moving, she could feel them moving. With that all the feels came back, especially the overwhelming amount of soreness. Right now it wasn’t truly awful, but it would be soon.

Ithuh...Ithen. Alis- Alex?

She shook her head softly, loose hair swaying back and forth. The back of her mouth tasted awful and the burning sensation in her stomach was even worse. Rasaki was limp on the ground, jostled only when it started retracting back into herself. Unsteadily she got to her feet, looking to help out her fellow Pariah’s recover. They still had a wolf to take down.

OOC
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Alexandra
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The pair blasted the ethereal with everything they had, but Hatiri endured. The walls fought back. Alex's spells were turned against her. And in the final moments of that fight, the world broke, tumbled and was remade. A golden eye was burned into Alex's mind. She rested against the wall, her eyes settled in on Ithuen. Her mind began to race again.

"Ethereal, what's the price for restoring Ithuen's mind?" Then came the cry over the metamana. Alex pulled her haggard, bleeding self to her feet and immediately latched onto Anci as the world went end over end.

The train stopped. Alex could hear the moans of the dying in other carriages. She rose to her feet. A sharp breath escaped her lips as she twisted. "I'm going to find the control runes and get this scorchliner working. Take care of Ithuen. Working on a deal." Alex threw her coat to Anci. "I don't need it. Use it for Ithuen, staunch the bleeding, keep her warm, something."

Alex stumbled her way into the next train car, her ethereal eye peering through the train itself to find traces of the command runes.
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Tanya
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Her promise to give Aufdein the human body he desired had caught his interest. She replied to his incredulity, "Not impossible. I certainly wasn't born the way I am now. No one is stuck in the body they were born with." She wasn't sure if he'd hear her words over the interference, but she smiled to herself. On top of the immediate benefit of surviving, Aufdein Korso was a name recognized, if not always trusted, all across Imythess. His patronage would more than make up for the free products she'd been forced to give away here. Tanya prided herself on her savvy business sense, even in the midst of a catastrophe.

She heard the breaks engage a few minutes later. Korso's voice came over the metamana. He said he was coming ing to meet her, and advised the remainder of the Pariahs to kill Kir Lantos. Tanya grinned. "[Sounds good to me. Shall I follow Lantos' trail down the train to provide backup, then? Meet you whenever you catch up?]"

Kir Lantos' trail would be easy enough to follow. There weren't a lot of places to go on the scorchliner, and his path was marked with burns and smashed obstacles. Hoping Korso would catch up with her before she reached the others, she reported her location over the metamana each time she passed by an area she recognized.

As she ran, she fitted silver knuckledusters over both hands. She was sick of fighting enemies that healed themselves faster than she could herself. She reached the Pariahs at the back of the train in time to catch only the last few words of Lantos' monologue. For a moment, when one of the Pariahs turned away, she feared the alfha had again managed to lie his way out of trouble, but she had underestimated her companions; several of the other Pariahs were not so quick to forget his deceit. Tanya joined their efforts, getting a few satisfying blows with her silver-coated fists before Korso called out again on the metamana, giving her a split second to brace herself before the scorchliner crashed to a halt. She flew backward across the room, but rolled to a stop, leaving her without any injury more severe than a bad bruise.

Many of the scorchliner's passengers were not so lucky. She tightened her jaw, but refused to allow herself to avert her eyes from the carnage they had caused, nor to block the cries of pain from her ears. There is a price for everything, she reminded herself. It does not go away just because you ignore it. You deemed these lives an acceptable expense.

She gathered herself and looked out into the field beyond. Karstoff stood, her back to the Kir Lantos and the Pariahs. Tanya hesitated, then tapped into her metamana. "I'm going to speak with the Marquise, see if I can convince her not to kill us on sight. You lot see if you can get us back to Chaon."

She climbed down from the scorchliner and approached the Marquise cautiously. If the Marquise still stood by her zakona decree, it was far too late to avoid drawing her attention.

"Marquise Tatiana Karstoff?" she inquired, keeping several meters between herself and the ancient werewolf. The few parts of her body that still had nerves complained at the freezing air of the ether. "I hope you have seen our willingness to serve Balefire. We are not your city's enemies."

The Sheriff's stillness was unnerving. Tanya readied herself to run, should the Marquise be too far gone to stall with words.
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Storyteller[ST]
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Anci and Alex

Because of your quick thinking, Anci, Ithuen makes it through the crash. She's still not doing too well, though. Her body is showing signs of severe blood loss and mana poisoning. Alex, you ask the Ethereal what the price is to restore Ithuen's mind.

"Sheriff?" Czajka rushes up to Ithuen's side. You're not even sure where she came from, but she's just as worried as you. "Ithuen?" The elf's muttering is slowing down. "Go. I'll buy her some time." [Negotiate your deal in the Discussion during this round, Alex.]

Alex, you head to find some control runes to get the scorchliner working. Anci and Ansgar, you join up further down the wreckage to catch the events happening around Kir. [See "Everyone" section for a follow-up on these.]


Everyone

In past conflicts with the Wolves of Lantos, you discovered that his shadow-loving friend, Maksym, was protecting Kir's fate all the while. You also found that when this is happening, Maksym himself is not protected.

This bodes poorly for Maksym.

Getting struck by lightning stuns the decrepit, wounded werewolf, ruining his concentration -- something you also learned is required in order to make Kir untouchable. Inferna, you follow this up with a point-blank burst of fire so massively powerful that your allies needed to duck for cover in order not to take injuries. [If you did not write about finding cover in your last post, and you are nearby, take moderate fire damage.] By the time the flames and dust clear, a gaping maw edged with twisted metal has replaced the wall that Kir was once tinkering with.

"[Ah-hah! Whatever you did over there, it worked! I finally got all the runes in the override to connect properly,]" Aufdein says over the mana. "[There was something interfering with the override, trying to twist it and force the liner to go into apoptosis. A fancy word for violent self-destruction. Who knows what would've happened to us and the Lady Marquise.]"

The raw force behind the explosion displaced Kir, too. He's a short distance outside the wreckage with smoke blowing off of his body. A blackened mass. Keter, armed with your new contract -- with the help of an entity much more reliable than the Ethereal Plane -- you approach Kir Lantos and issue your final words to him. You hold down Kir Lantos by the limbs. He thrashes, struggling with all his might to free himself, even biting you at one point. You sharpen the energy around your hands, ready to deal the killing blow. In a single movement, you kick off and plunge those sharpened hands across the werewolf's neck.

It happened quickly. A horrific sight. For Darkest Gloomwood werewolves, their instant regeneration is no joke. Even Maksym healed from full-body third-degree burns, though it did leave extensive scarring behind. You behead Kir, Keter. You certainly do. However, as soon as your hand leaves his neck, the flesh in his neck has already knitted back together. It's a grotesque display, Keter. You could've sworn you saw muscles, nerves, bones, all reconnecting before the skin, as fast as you yourself moved. Silver will be absolutely necessary to deal the killing blow.

And silver he gets. Yurim, this is the moment when your deal clears -- and thanks to Keter, he's vulnerable and there's nothing he can do about it. Those two silver daggers you embedded in his chest explode into fragments of silver, slicing his insides apart. Kir recoils. The damage is so great that he can't even howl in pain; he just crumples even more into the snow and ice, a pathetic display. His neck is tweaked and badly scarred because of Keter, and he's disoriented from the beheading, further impeding his movements. Yurim, you come in to start stabbing him, and whatever he's seeing is slowing him down even more, preventing him from even attempting an escape.

That opens him up even more, and Lorica, you make use of that opportunity. He's still conscious and aware of his surroundings, allowing him to hear everything that you and the other Pariahs are telling him. Before that, though, you attack a stupefied Maksym with a very wicked knife. Your initial attack on Kir hits as well, thanks to Keter and Yurim keeping him in place. Tendrils from the embedded knife push through the alfha's insides as well, displacing his regeneration in a way that looks torturously painful for him. He's managed to get back on his feet, through some feat of bone-grinding tenacity of his own, but you're not done yet, Lorica. He takes another knife to the chest. And another, shot with all the force of a crossbow bolt. You then close the distance to carve at him with your bolo, which cuts through his flesh like a knife through butter. Anci, you've already arrived by now, so feel free to detail your own attacks. Ansgar is waiting in the background, staring at Karstoff.

In spite of all this relentless cutting and stabbing and internal horror, Kir is still trying to escape. Every chance he gets he's pulling himself away. Tanya, you come in for some well-placed blows with the silver knuckledusters that handily break his limbs, turning him into a desperately clambering mass. A dying beast, roaring and incoherent, thinking about nothing except his own survival. The sight is actually a bit uncomfortable -- maybe because it's pathetic to you, or maybe because you're in the process of killing him in an extreme, excessively violent manner.

"Maksym!" he manages to scream.

The shadow-lover in question is doubled over with a burned hand over his chest, drooling blood. A jagged, fresh burn is layered on top of the area where Inferna's lightning hit. He's making a horrified sound, his voice trembling. He finally howls in fear, breaking completely. The werewolf hurries away, turning into his beast form mid-leap and loping through the snow, leaving a blood trail in his wake. As he fades into the darkness around you, you don't think he'll survive for much longer here, what with his injuries and lack of fur.

Kir, still somehow alive despite your relentless attacks, manages a grimace with bloody teeth. "God... dammit..." He sucks in a ragged, wet breath, giving the occasional weak counterattack with his claws. "No one-- reliable..."

Tanya, you approach Karstoff at this point to try to negotiate with her. The Marquise lifts a delicate finger, her hood turned in Kir's direction but her face obscured in shadow. "One moment. The quiet one just made a deal."

Everyone, you feel a strong urge to look behind you. You do so all in unison, even Kir. Your attention is drawn to a single point: a powerful feeling that overwhelms whatever murderous intent you've harbored thus far. Whatever is behind you is impossible not to notice.

It's Zuraw, walking up to the brutality. Helmet discarded, her bones are popping and reformatting, muscles regrowing, and fur coating her body, giving her an appearance somewhere between human and monster. The incomplete markings on her face are glowing with patterns of color. Kir returns the gesture in kind, face expressionless, even going so far as to wipe blood off a few of his own markings so the light is more easily read.

Zuraw glances at all of you. She walks past your cordon of violence and, still talking to Kir in brightspeak, draws close to him. Her Etherealbane shortsword, maybe the one Torsten used to carry around, is humming with power.

"They didn't-- want you," Kir says. Not a growl or hiss, just the soft words of a slowly dying monster. "They abandoned... you and continued-- life as normal. Check the Ethereal-- if you think I'm lying."

The black knight hesitates for a bare moment before continuing her approach with added speed. Without a moment to spare, she plunges the sword through his heart.

It's still not enough to kill him. Kir makes a strange expression, perhaps an attempt at a smile. "Do you-- feel useful-- now?"

Zuraw opens her maw in a silent scream. With a flick of both hands, silver claws explode from her gauntlets. Her markings go red. If you attempt to interfere with her actions, take a major physical injury due to her retaliation. This is hers.

Karstoff has taken a seat against one of the nearest cairns, legs crossed and chin propped on her knuckles in a look of droll amusement. The Marquise seems to gain some passing enjoyment of the long, long, violent execution of the single man who brought you all here.

It takes an uncomfortably long time for Kir to stop moving. At the end, Zuraw falls her knees, grabbing her head and trembling and rocking back and forth, eyes screwed shut and markings showing solid white light. Your unnatural focus on Zuraw starts to subside, and her presence once again begins to fade into the background.

For a few long moments, everything is still. The scorchliner wreckage is giving off streams of smoke. All you can hear are the faint whispers on the Ethereal wind, impossible to decode. Aufdein Korso flies over to land with the rest of you.

Alex, you've been working hard this whole time to secure some transport out of this hellish place. You quickly find out that this scorchliner is nothing like any equipment you've ever seen or studied before. There are control runes, but they're on every single individual car of the liner. Plus, they're grafted straight into the interior living structure of the vehicle. They're like capillaries, not quite three-dimensional, and harder to find than expected. Even harder to manipulate, since they're integrated into organic material.

Your search takes you to the rearmost car of them all, the one least damaged. If you can uncouple this car, and if you have some more time to work on it, you can change the direction of propelling and cause the vehicle to float backward down the track. If you can figure out how to rip it back into Chaon, you can bring everyone back to Nine Angels. But that will take some more work. For now, you go outside to join up with the rest of the group, maybe hoping to find information about Ithuen among them.

Everyone, near one of the middle cars of the Kir Lantos, you spot Czajka dragging Ithuen out of a hole in the metal and deadened sinew. The former Sheriff of Nine Angels is not doing well. Her skin is pale, grey, and clammy. The veins closest to her skin are a vivid cyan due to mana poisoning. Despite the best first aid efforts of Anci and then Czajka, her missing leg is still oozing a fluid like liquid brass through the bandages and tourniquets. Her similar wounds are crawling with tiny metallic eyes, brimming just under the skin.

"The most expensive thing the Ethereal can give," the Stranger says, "is time."

Czajka sets Ithuen down on the ice. Though the former bounty hunter is blindfolded, the twitch in her features suggests she's trying her hardest not to cry. Ithuen pauses from her intermittent fits of pain and her eyes flutter half-open. You're not really sure if she can hear you or not. You all are quite familiar with death at this point, so you know that dying is very little like the stories. It's often a process, a drawn-out one, and rarely if ever offers a chance to have a meaningful conversation with the victim in their final moments.

"The damage is even worse than it looks. She's hanging on by inches. Taking her to you was her final request. If you need to say something, please say it now."

Karstoff has been observing all of you this whole time. She's giving you a few moments to process everything that just happened, at least. There is no sympathy on her face -- not for you, or Zuraw, or Ithuen or Czajka or anyone else. Just polite attentiveness.

When the time is right, the Marquise speaks. "You've placed great value in this life. I'm not sure why, but I'll give you this. Leave her body here. They'll build a cairn. When you're ready to speak with me, I'll be inside. It occurs to me that this cold bothers people." She starts to leave. Her movements seem unnatural, though most of her body is covered up by her cloak. Karstoff pauses for a moment to add something. "I've decided what needs to be destroyed."


OOC
 
An Open Letter to the Participants of ST05 Cairns on the Wine River

I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for participating all the way to the end of this event. Cairns was a huge labor of love as I tried to develop the Gloomwood setting. I've been working on Cairns since early August of 2016 and it's very rewarding to see it finally come to completion. This event was experimental in many ways, and there is much trivia for me to share about what could have been. Thank you for participating and being patient even when things weren't executing as well as I would have liked. And thank you for persevering, posting every 3-ish days for three and a half months straight, demonstrating amazing commitment to what is fundamentally a hobby site. Thank you for donating all of your time to making this story into what it became.

Calling these adventures "Storyteller-led" events is a bit of a misnomer. It's not the Storyteller who leads, it's you. You are the reason this story exists, you are the reason it developed the way it did, and you are the reason it came to a successful conclusion. Without the players, Storyteller-led events are nothing.

Thank you for being a member of Imythess and have a happy New Year. I hope 2017 brings you lots of fun stories.

- Ozan


What Now?

This is the final interactive round of Cairns on the Wine River. You got the Zuraw Ending as far as characters go, and you'll soon find out what kind of Nine Angels ending you got. You have 5 days (until 5:00pm on Wednesday, January 4, 2017) to make 1 optional post. If you are feeling quite done with Cairns, you can be done right now, no more posts needed. However, if you'd like to write about the story's conclusion or your character's conclusion in the story, now would be a good time.

This is your last chance to change the fate of Nine Angels and your NPC companions. I will post in the Discussion as much as I can, rather than once per day, in order to get any final interactions done. Talking to Karstoff can have a dramatic effect on how the story ends. You can also speak to any NPC from the story to see how they're doing and what their plans are. If you'd like to speak to NPCs who aren't present, we can start progressing the interactions toward the trip back to Nine Angels and operate on multiple timeframes that way if you want.

I am also curious what your character plans to do once all of this is over, so don't forget to write about that.


Epilogue

Once January 4 rolls around, I will post the story's epilogue. If you're not familiar with ST-led event traditions, basically the epilogue is a short story that puts a final end to the plot. In the Cairns epilogue, I will not do a 90s-movie-esque "where are they now" montage for all the NPCs. So if you want to find out what NPCs are planning to do, you should ask them in this round.

As a reward for people reading the epilogue, we also traditionally include strong hints toward the premise of the next major ST-led event. ST06 will begin tentatively on February 1, 2017.

After the epilogue, I will post Cairns trivia and a Q&A like I did at the end of Hara. Little fun facts about the event. I can also share secret IC PM correspondence at that time. After that, expect waves of lore updates similar to the end of ST03 Hara.

If you wish to interact with characters from Cairns further at a later date, check out Side Activity: Know Your Heroes.

A formal reward claim topic will be posted within the next 5-6 days. Keep an eye out, I'll link it in Discussion too. +50 gold has been added to the rewards for going an additional week overtime.

Thanks again for everything.

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Glug Photall
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The fire he had not expected. Already damaged by the spell, however minor that damage might have been, his right arm was torn apart as he turned just in time to shield himself from the backdraft. Ripping through the appendage, the flames would have caused only moderate burns had it not been for the feral one’s magical attack upon him just moments ago. The charred flesh fell apart, causing Glug to fall into a corner. His bow fell next to him, and Glug could not stifle the cry of pain that issued from his throat. It was over quickly, and he frantically took up his bow in his left hand as a focus for his mind, trying to tear away his thoughts from the pain he was in all of a sudden.

He gazed down at what used to be his arm, now a burnt-off stump stopping just below the shoulder. Well, he supposed that losing a finger was the least of his worries at the moment. The goblin hung on for dear life as the scorchliner finally shuddered to a violent halt. When he had caught his breath and was certain that the scorchliner had stopped moving, he braced himself against the corner he’d landed in and slowly rose to his feet, grimacing in pain. Glug looked up just in time to see Kir get beheaded, and then the silver blades embedded in his body exploded. Through the haze of smoke and the dizziness of being jarred so badly following his disarming, Glug stared silently. He didn’t know what to think or feel at that moment. On the one hand, he felt some small satisfaction in knowing that Lantos had gotten what he deserved and that his scorchliner was finished - hopefully for good, though there was no guarantee of that; but on the other, the fact that he hadn’t finished the job himself was aggravating.

And through it all, the whole thing somehow felt…anti-climactic. As the others finished him off and assaulted Maksym, he gazed upon the scene with a certain sense of numbness in him despite the sudden and violent loss of his already-damaged right arm. He stumbled out into the snow and ice, tripping and falling among the wreckage; managing to stand once more, however, he felt a chill run down his spine and the fine hairs upon his back stand on end. He turned to see Zuraw walking toward them all, and Kir’s final words to her did not stop her from plunging her sword deep into his chest. Somehow, Zuraw’s attack seemed to rectify whatever Glug was feeling at the moment. His dizziness was already slowly vanishing, and the sense of satisfaction that Kir was dead overpowered anything else.

It was over…for now, at least. He turned to see Czajka dragging Ithuen out of the scorchliner, and for once in his life, he felt a pang of sorrow for someone else. Well…perhaps it wasn’t quite sorrow. It was more like pity. Whatever it was, he was not pleased to see the state of her body. He had liked that one. Such a shame what had become of her…but he was already accepting it even as he thought this to himself. He had known full well that she might not make it out alive. While he couldn’t exactly say that either of them had been a friend of the other, he felt that there might have been a bit of respect in there somewhere - if not mutual, then at least on his part. There was just something - maybe more than one thing - about her that had reminded him of himself, in a way. He’d shared a smoke with her as if they were just two people kicking back - no Taming, no Lantos, no great battle soon to come: just two people smoking cigars and muttering about the collective state of things.

And if she was alive, or if she continued to be alive, she would never be quite the same. Of that, Glug was certain. Yes, he felt something for her, be it pity or sorrow or whatever else, even if it was only a very minor feeling. Czajka mentioned that she didn’t have much time, drawing a glance from the goblin. He nodded curtly, looking back at Ithuen. He stepped up to her and knelt. After a moment, he grunted and then spoke.

“What a way to go, huh?”

He sighed, and then he nodded.

“I appreciated your help and your company,” he said at last.

It was high praise coming from him, considering his usual disconnection with people in general.

“I’ll think of you when I smoke.”

It might not have been the most romantic thing a bard might put into a story, but if nothing else, it showed that Glug would honour Ithuen by remembering her. He rose to his feet after that and stepped away, letting others speak if they so wished. When the time came, he followed Karstoff inside, narrowing his eyes at her final words. He didn’t know exactly what that meant, but he did know that he wanted his name removed from whatever list of zakona might exist.

“I don’t appreciate being banned from Balefire, Karstoff,” he said in a growling sort of tone. “I’ll be needing that lifted - sooner rather than later.”

Karstoff’s response came after a silence that lasted far too long. The Marquise yawned with her human mouth, but all the maws that made up her shadow hinged open in ill-timed unison as well.

”Why would I do something like that? Life finds a way, as they say. You're not banned from Balefire, you can just be killed by anyone at any time."

The not-so-hidden, unspoken addition to that was, of course, that she was included in that statement; it was a warning to be very careful about his next words.


“Perhaps because you caused this mess in the first place,” he replied, “and because I also don’t like being hunted. Balefire is the one city I actually like.”

He thought for a moment before continuing.

“I’d be willing to work for it, but I do not wish to be indebted for very long,” he said. “A few jobs should be enough to pay for the removal of my zakona status.”

Of course, working for Tatiana Karstoff had its own advantages. Even if she denied having ever so much as been in the same room as him, the loose association between the two was enough to stick in someone’s mind. Get a few gullible people together to spread the word, and Glug would seem far more dangerous than he might actually be. That kind of a reputation might earn him some enemies, but it would also earn him a bit of begrudging respect in certain places and among certain people. Perhaps he was simply trading one bad reputation for another. But at least a connection with Karstoff would give him a reputation only in situations that required him to bring it up. There was also the principle of the matter to consider: Balefire was the one city in which he had stood that he had not, as yet, found any great discrimination against him. Oh, there were always bigots, but bigotry seemed to be stock in trade in most cities; not in Balefire, however. His status as zakona in Balefire gave others a legal justification for their bigotry and might spur those who ordinarily would not have acted upon it into action. It would also mean greater difficulty in finding fair work for fair pay, given his trade. So siding with Karstoff and having his zakona status removed was highly beneficial, making him seem dangerous to the right people without broadcasting his reputation to every low-life looking for a bit of infamy.

But all of this was only if Karstoff accepted his offer, and that was a big if at this point.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Were you under the impression you had any leverage right now? Bargaining is for people who have something worthwhile to offer each other, and you so far have given me nothing except demands. I asked for a reason, goblin. Even just one would do. Why should I pardon you other than because you want it and it's my fault, waaah? Did you really think I would hire a zakona to do my dirty work, after I was just betrayed by the only person I thought I could really trust? Try again."

The goblin snorted in derision.

“I’ve not betrayed anyone that didn’t deserve it, Karstoff,” he said with tired indignation, “and you’re not the only one who’s been betrayed since the taming. Besides that, what’ve you got to lose in a bit of free work? Anyway, I thought you liked your eyes and ears everywhere. I’ve heard you know everything that goes on in Balefire, but what about beyond it? Sounds like you don’t exactly have a lot of allies right now. A bit of time to recover, and I could be quite the ally indeed.”

The goblin shrugged his good arm.

“And if you find you don’t like the quality of my work, you can cut all ties with me later.”

Karstoff looked exasperated.

"Answer my damn question. Do you or do you not have a reason for me to pardon you?"


Glug thought about that for a second. No matter what he said, she’d try to weasel her way out of it. That was simply the way of nobles and others of their ilk. And even if she wasn’t exactly a “noble”, she might as well be for the prestige she had alone, nevermind any wealth or power she might possess. Honestly, beyond him having done business in Balefire, he didn’t really have a good reason.

“Nothing that’d likely satisfy you,” he said at last. “There are always contracts to be had outside of Balefire, I suppose.”

Not only that, but any contacts he had already established would have cut ties with him already. If he tried to negotiate with them again, he’d inevitably get shafted - or worse, betrayed again. Then this whole bloody affair would start all over, and that just wouldn’t do. He’d have to establish a whole new contact list, and that meant getting rid of anyone already on his current one. He shrugged again, sighing.

“Nobody asks too many questions in Balefire,” he said. “A goblin can come and go as he pleases. Very few people trying to murder whatever doesn’t look right to ‘em - greenskins, for example. Makes it real easy to maintain a trade.”

He nodded.

“That’s my reason, like it or not.”

"You want zakona status removed because it would be more convenient for you," Karstoff summarized. "Yeah, I don't like that reason. Unless you have something worthwhile to tell me, I suggest you shut up."

Glug snorted again.

“So, just like anyone else with more authority than they deserve, you do what you want and the rest of the world be thrice-damned to the Abyss. Somehow not surprised. Same as the rest of the lords and ladies of Balefire. Yet the minute any of you get your comeuppance, you try to bargain with everyone to get out of it. But somehow, just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, I’m the criminal here.”

He shook his head.

“Fine then,” he said at last. “Good riddance, and I hope your city burns.”

And with that, he turned away from the selfish woman. She could burn, too, for all he cared. Besides, he had more important things to worry about at the moment - such as his arm, for example. He sat well away from her and tore off the bottom part of his cloak with which to wrap the stump that now hung limply just below his right shoulder. Remembering the quill and parchment suddenly, he pulled it out and handed it to the nearest reliable Pariah.

“Get this back to its owner, would ya?” he requested. “Now that this whole mess is over, I don’t really need it anymore, and I doubt she’d want it in the hands of some ruthless goblin assassin.”

The words were a jab at his own ill-fated turn of events, though they were the limit of his jabs. Then he lit up a cigar, leaned back and closed his eyes until they could all get back to where they needed to be safely and securely. He’d have to get this arm replaced…quicksilver, maybe. At least that was a “quiet” metal. Yeah, that’d work…what was the name of that doctor everyone raved about? The one who made fake arms and such…Fix-It, or something like that…he’d have to look into maybe utilizing the man’s services, assuming he could find him. Given his reputation, that shouldn’t be too difficult. He’d have to summon his horse later, too, but that was easy enough…he could trade the spell scrolls as necessary, now that he no longer needed them…true to his word, though, he thought back to his interactions with Ithuen as he sat there, half-asleep, smoking.

Long live the bearers of the short end of the stick.

OOC
Edited by Glug Photall, Mon Jan 2, 2017 5:57 pm.
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Lorica
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OOC
 
Most of this came from the OOC discussion, so if you read it here you might not want to re-read it here. Or maybe you do! You do you, man.


Fire exploded inside the compartment, splashing over her arms. Her blood sizzled in the heat. Lorica bit back a scream but pushed through the pain, charging at Kir Lantos and attacking. Her blades carved into his transformed form, leaving grievous wounds across his body, but the alfha refused to die. In the end it seemed like nothing would kill him... but that's when Zuraw entered the scene.

Lorica stared at the knight, like the rest of them. She couldn't help it. The half-werewolf drew the eye like a lodestone drew metal. For the first time the Keeper could remember, the knight looked... proud. Of herself, of what she had accomplished. She carried herself with a quiet dignity as she approached Lantos and put him down like the dog he was. Lorica could remember killing Marcus. She remembered the volatile storm of emotions that had threatened to consume her, to drag her down into the depths and never let her go. Lucius had been there to pull her out of that quagmire. Guess it's my time to pay it forward.

She stumbled up to the woman, careful not to startle her. "Hey there Sparky. You did good. He deserved to die. For what he did to us, but especially what he did to you." She laid a hand on the knight's shoulder. "I'm proud of you."
Quote:
 
Zuraw wraps you in a tight hug, burying her face in your shoulder.

Lorica returned the embrace, squeezing the knight as tight as her plate armor would allow. "I know it's hard," she whispered, the words for Zuraw alone. "He tried to convince you he was your entire world. It's almost impossible to imagine living outside of his shadow. You'll hear his voice, feel his presence, like a missing tooth you can't stop bothering... but he's gone, Zuraw. It's just you now."

She briefly pressed her lips to the top of the woman's head, not a romantic gesture, simply trying to show her support the best way she knew how. "I know you can make it through this. After all, I did... and you're a helluva lot stronger than I ever was." She managed a crooked smile despite the ache in her chest, the pain that no enchantment or spell could ever quite soothe.

When the knight pulled away, the Keeper let her go. She knew that pressing the issue would only make matters worse. It would take Zuraw time to recover... and she had other allies to check on. Ithuen was in bad shape, for example. Lorica had seen death plenty of times, even stared it in the face herself once or twice, but she'd rarely seen a demise so drawn-out and painful. She was on her way to see the former Sheriff when she caught a glimpse of something shiny in a nearby drift of snow, wreckage thrown out from the wreck of the Kir Lantos. It was a bottle, miraculously unbroken. She tugged it out of the snow and looked for a label, but found none. She shrugged and used the back of her kukri to snap off the neck, quaffing the clear liquid inside. It burned on its way down her throat. This is either rotgut or paint thinner... and at this point, I'll take either. She didn't think Ithuen would complain either.

The Keeper settled down next to the woman, putting down the bottle lightly touching Ithuen's forehead with her empty hand. "You damn fool," she muttered. "All that work to stay alive and then you go off and get heroic on me." Lorica took along drink, glancing at Czajka. "Can you still enjoy alcohol, Bookworm? I'd propose a toast, but I don't want booze to go to waste on some... ghost demigod entity. Whatever your deal is."

"Besides... I think Ithuen needs it more than both of us put together."
She gently tipped up the bottle and let a bare trickle go into the Sheriff's lips, careful not to choke her. She'd cared for infirm patients before and knew the proper procedures to let them drink... although most doctors would give them water, not hard liquor. Lorica felt this was more appropriate, given the circumstances. Alex came over to haggle with the 'Stranger' for the Sheriff's life, leaving the Keeper feeling uncomfortable. She nodded to the pair of them and limped over to the crashed vehicle, lugging the bottle along.

Lorica barely managed to make it back inside the scorchliner before sliding down and sitting on the floor without ceremony. "Sorry, your Majesty," she said through clenched teeth. "I know it's proper to stand when greeting royalty, tyrants or not, but I've had better days." If not for the pain-suppressing weapon tied to her hand the Keeper suspected she would have lost consciousness already.

"You plan on razing Nine Angels? Good riddance. I'd help, if I didn't think you might decide to off me in the process." She smiled wearily. "Of the people who I gave a shit about in that town, one is dying and the other has turned into some sort of cosmic haggler. [removed] that place."
Quote:
 
"Me? Royalty?" Karstoff laughed. "Do I look much like that little emperor in the south? The one who's fighting a losing war? If so, I'm not sure if I should feel flattered or insulted." The agreement about razing Nine Angels was noted, at least.

Lorica snorted then began to list facts, counting them off on her fingers. "You have a fancy title I can barely pronounce. You can order the execution of anyone you see fit. You have a secret police. What am I forgetting? Oh right: you are the nominal head of an entire nation-state. That sure looks like royalty from where I'm standing." She shifted and winced. "Or sitting, in any case."

"The big question the rest of us want to ask but are too scared to say is this: Are you just gonna kill us all now? Because if so, hurry up and do it. It's cruel and unnecessary to stretch it out like this."

Quote:
 
Karstoff stared at Lorica, then burst into laughter. Her shadow grew extra teeth and claws, brimming with them. "What's your name?" she asked.

She even tittered at the next question of whether she was going to kill them all. "Well, I am Queen Karstoff after all, so I can be as cruel and unnecessary as I want. Wait, does that mean I get concubines?!" The ancient werewolf grinned at Lorica. "Nah, I'm just kidding. Actually, I find all of you to be very interesting. Plus I'm not exactly in the mood to kill all of you right now. Hatiri's quite the young buck and he did a number on me after a while. He escaped, in case you were wondering."
Lorica managed to match the Marquise's smile with one of her own. "Only if you want them. Power draws boot-lickers and sycophants like shit draws flies. I'm sure someone will be willing to form a harem." She coughed. "Thanks for not killing us, for what it's worth."

The conversation quickly turned to matters of economics and statecraft, topics she had absolutely no experience (or interest) in. She settled down, trying to move as little as possible so as not to aggravate her myriad injuries. The Keeper couldn't think of anything she could offer an Ethereal ancient to rescind her zakona status, and honestly didn't care enough to try. It's too bad though. She seems likable enough, for a bloodthirsty tyrant.

Eventually the Marquise hinted at how it might be necessary for them to retain their legal status. Lorica chuckled. "Fine with me, Big Bad Wolf. I mean, being zakona means I'm on the bottom of the barrel, right? Which means I can't get in more trouble for anything I do in this region? So begins my reign of terror." She followed this up with a weak cough.

"Let's get back as soon as we can, alright? I think I might be dying here. It's rather inconvenient." She took a deep drink of the bottle, finishing it off. It was at that point that Ithuen returned. The Keeper met her with a smile and returned the fist bump. How about it, Bearkiller? You wanna carry me out of here?"



Back on the material side of things, Farethi was there to help patch her up. Lorica usually didn't like letting others provide medical care, but in this case she was more than willing to let the twitchy vampire take over her treatment. The apothecary wrapped up her injuries, slathering her myriad burns in an unpleasant-smelling poultice in the process. The Keeper let her fuss over her like a mother hen, hiding a smile. "I'm fine, really. I hope you can get out of all this legal nonsense. You've been a big help."

After that, the only person left to talk to was Neriah. She found the former leader of the Paladins and waved her over. "I just... wanted to thank you. For everything. I'm officially ceding the leadership of this gang back to you. You're strong enough to handle it." Lorica paused, studying the girl. "I know you're not asking for advice, but I'm going to give it anyway. Don't stay here. Nine Angels is going to change now. I'm not sure if there'll be room for badass women like us. You should travel with me a ways, maybe find some softer territory to settle down in. Put some good, old-fashioned fear in some other folks."
Edited by Seele, Wed Jan 4, 2017 3:39 pm.
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Anci
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"What if Nine Angels got the scorchline? It was worth it to put it here in the first place, the problem was the Wine River Company was going to destroy the city in the process. With them gone the station and line could go to the people. Let them handle it for Balefire. Your country wins and the people of Nine Angels have a say in their future."

Karstoff
 

Karstoff paused for a long time, staring at Anci. "You. I'd like to know your name, too, if it pleases."

She stood -- with some effort -- and paced a bit, thinking.

"I'm crunching some numbers, trying to see if it would be better to turn the line over to the national, county or city government. Give me a moment."

The Marquise stopped, easing herself back onto the crate, but with eyes focused in the distance and fingers twitching with unheard and unseen budgetary problem-solving.

"It won't be popular. Cascadia is known for being over-privatized since they have mercenary law enforcement, but it's actually Balefire that prides itself on individual businesses the most. Without the government holding people up, there's this idea that people can pull themselves up by their bootstraps. In reality that kind of thing is pretty rare.

"But who cares what the people think, you know? If we seize the company's assets and make workers government employees, that's more money flow into Balefire in the form of ticket sales. In fact, what if all the scorchline stops in the country were owned by the government, but we outsourced the building of the lines themselves to whoever was able to build it first? I could easily incentivize companies using a fraction of the assets I've gathered from zakona property seizures. The details aren't important, just trust me here."


More thinking noises. She seemed extremely invested in this idea, like some kind of ancient bureaucrat who just happened to have a murderous streak. "Right. Yes, I think this will work. I'll need to sit down with Jacques to confirm the particulars, but I think we're onto something with this. There was talk earlier of Shadowdancers? And fresh water, and medicine and all that? Focus on infrastructure first. I'm going to tell you right now that Nine Angels won't be nearly as big as it used to be, so there'll be plenty of decay on the outskirts. But if you plan your projects well, you can push most of the population above the poverty line. I'll have Jacques see if we can get funding from some of the more philanthropic Lords of Balefire, so we don't have to dip very low into Balefire's pockets.

"I think this matches up perfectly with some plans I have for the country."



All the details Karstoff was rattling off about the idea were a bit over Anci’s head. Both in not understanding some of the words she was using and not having much exposure to the workings of business and government like this. The tone made it sound like it was rhetorical for the most part though, so she was content to let the Marquise run through the it all.

It is Anci, by the way. One more thing. Lantos was going to be declared a Zakona, right? The reward was not declared yet, so it could be a pardon for a zakona.

Anci nodded towards Ithuen.

Her, specifically. She is probably the one of us who has lost the most now, barring Alex. Things were bad for Nine Angels cause of the Wine River Company and she kept going on her own cause it was the right thing to do. She did not stay at her job in the dispatch cause Lantos would have killed her. And even then she went out of her way to help save this city. That is a sheriff that actually cares about the people, not like that Rijinders. You would be hard pressed to find someone dedicated to their job like her, as well as being accepted by the locals. No painful transition needed if you find someone willing or someone right to work here. Just a pardon from a zakona bounty already fufilled.

- - - -

[Ansgar]

Thank you, Ansgar. Thank you for everything you did for us and yourself. I am really glad you are here with us now that it is done. What will you do from here though?

[Victor/Dalcas]

Lantos is dead, the scorchliner is wrecked. Karstoff said she is not going to wreck Nine Angels, that was on her mind though. She is going to do...a lot of something, but it looks like the people of Nine Angels will be able to survive with the scorchline. Not get run over by it. It sounded like the government was going to be around here a lot more, so it might be a good idea to change your job. Maybe help with the community? They will need some figures to help them out in the coming days. Make sure Balefire does not do what Wine River was.

[Drote]

Hey Drote, how are you doing? Feeling any better? What do you want to do, most of us are going our own ways now. Would you want to go back to the League? From what I heard I am thinking of heading that way myself, if you would want some company on the trip.

[Neriah]

Thank you, and sorry for your paladins. With your and their sacrifices Kir and the Wine River company are dead. Nine Angels is not going to be left alone though, Karstoff said she is going to be bringing the government here. What about you? Are you going to leave or stay? Nine Angels could use all the help it can get if you stick around, and I think the city would be better off with you involved in a good way.

[Korso]

Glad you came back to us at the end there.

She nervously looked away.

When I asked you before, about something to help treat ties to a plane. You suggested the idea of treating harmonization. It helped Czajka out, so it turned out good. I was actually asking for myself though, I understand if planar workings is not something you work with much. Would you maybe know somewhere I might find someone in that line of work?

When you take up Tanya’s offer I will not recognize you. Will you still go by Korso? And where are you going to go afterwards? You do not strike me as someone who would settle down in one place for long.

[Ithuen]

Glad to see you are still going, Bearkiller. Sorry I was not able to save you before on the scorchliner. Maybe if it had been Tanya to find you instead of me. But you are here, thanks to Alex. What are you going to do now though? Team up with the spider and bring justice?

She had a smirk on her face at the last question, but despite the jest she did wonder what Ithuen planned to do with her new lease on life.

[Zuraw]

"You did good Sir Zuraw. You have come such a long way from when we first met you to where you are now. Sorry, Lore could put it better than I could. Just a question and I will leave you alone. What are you going to do now that it is all said and done? Stay true to yourself, all right?
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Keter
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While Keter watched Zuraw's emotional execution of Kir Lantos, her perhaps having the greatest of present grievances against the treacherous wolf, the shadowy form of his head was split as if another face was looking elsewhere. That other face was that of the Shade, its own attention drawn to the Marquise who simply sat and watched the display, appearing to find her own satisfaction at the end of this debacle.

Well then, that was it. So ended Keter's revenge, a trial he had placed upon himself seen to fruition. It many places it had not quite gone as planned, but what mattered was the end result. The person who had truly and most directly wronged him had been punished, at least in his eyes, and though it was not entirely by the Black Monkey's hand, the Living Myth felt satisfied.

"It's finished." Keter sighed from the darkness, his heart feeling as if it had been mostly purified of this experience, an illusion but one that he was happy with. His body began to move away from the group, uncaring of the final moments of the party and ready to move before they thought to finally bring about his turn in a fit of executioner's high, but his body stopped before he could leave.

"No." Clicked his Shadow's voice, stopping him before he could get very far and changing the direction of the body with sharp, stiff movements. Under the effects of the Fell Contract, for as long as it lasted, it retained control. Where Keter may have been finished with his affairs with Gloomwood, the Shade carried many things left undone from the time of its previous host before her untimely demise, "We're not done.?"

"What are we doing?" Keter asked, the Shade cuing quickly into his question before answering through both of their voices, "Only one of us is done. We might die. At least the contract would be over and the next Black Monkey might actually have a chance. Fine. We'll do it."

The gait of Keter's dark form returned to the pseudo-drunken stumble he favored, lurching forward towards the scorchliner where Karstoff had entered. Once inside the shadowy face fixed its gaze on the Marquise. The abyssal shadows were calm, but beneath them the muscles of Keter Laluan were tensed, ready for the worst and to respond quickly to them.

"I'm here, if that matters to you. What's left?" Murrum speaks separate from Keter, though the clicking voice still comes from the head of the dark form. The words are not only directed towards the Marquise, but to the Ethereal itself, the Shade wanting to address both of them simultaneously, to end its own past tale as quickly and efficiently as possible.

"Ah, Murrum. Still playing piggyback, I see." She chuckled. "Hah, the Ethereal ripped you off bad. It's already fading." The old wolf leaned back, lacing her fingers together on her lap, looking content for all it was worth. "What was that you said? 'What's left?' Whatever do you mean?" she said innocently, hiding a smile.

"The Abyss remains enough to sate my interests, this extension into Chaon remains my favorite hobby. As for what the Ethereal did to me, turnabout's fair play from what I did." Murrum clicked, cocking the head of Keter to the side, "Still enjoying your showmanship, I see. I bet your presentation to the Lords was a show to be remembered. For those who survived."

The Shade went quiet for a moment, sensing Keter's unvoiced concerns but ultimately ignoring them. Surviving they could do, living life on the edge, fighting and killing to make it through each day. In fact, it might even be fun for the Black Monkey, but its Shadow wanted to make sure to close a door before walking through another one.

Karstoff said with a sheepish grin. "It might be the Ax's effects on me, or it might just be all the blood on my hands starting to stink, in a sense."

"It isn't as if you were unaffected by the Ethereal and I's falling out. It isn't speaking to me, but it also seems to be ignoring me, but what of you, Karstoff? Sweeping it away as life in Balefire, biding your time, or something else?" Murrum continued, "Further, an admittedly impressive Sheriff, Jakobs, another though removed, Ithuen, even what happened with Hatiri and Kir. Are you piling that as a result of your Taming of Balefire?"

"But you're dressed in the most backswampish way I can imagine! Should I call you a tussocker then?"

Czajka just grumbled.

"As for your other question, Murrum, it's just as I said at the opening of the scorchline. Change is built on corpses."

"Tussocker?" The voices of the Incarnate and the Abyssal intertwined to different inflections at the mention of the word, one confused and the other amused at the prospect. Murrum had gotten so caught up in everything else that was going on that he had hardly stopped to do consider such things, "Hm, Keter may become one just yet. He's taken a liking to Balefire, particularly, and unlike my last host he's capable of surviving well enough on his own in the face of threats."

The Shade went silent as it glanced noticeably towards the outside world through the wreckage, nonexitant eyes fixed towards the Cairns. For a moment its thought went to nostalgia and to the information network that its previous host had built in Gloomwood, following as an apprentice to the Abyssal's work in he Abyss, and handling it quite well until that unfortunate end. Keter was surely not going to do any such things, but would instead cling to the shadows as an old friend, barely using the demon's powers except for rare situations of needing to ensure absolute success and survival. Murrum could respect that mentality, but all the same, "I wonder if I could find Tressa's Cairn out here."

Again, the Shade went silent for a moment, lost in memories of nights gone by. Quickly it snapped from its quiet reminiscing, and asked though it knew well what the answer would be, but Keter asked as well, "Is there anything we could provide you to have that pesky Zakona status removed?"

"Come now, Murrum, use your own brain," the Marquise said with a wolfish smirk. "If you didn't want zakona status, you shouldn't have been a criminal in the first place. Isn't it enough that I'm not going to kill all of you? If you like, you can even say you had a standoff with Tatiana Karstoff and lived. The backswamps love tall tales like that."

Murrum let out a series of sharp clicks, a shadowy laughing sound at Karstoff's words, "Thought as much. Don't blame us if some of your Sheriffs earn Cairns. If you ever feel a need for us, you can contact us the old way and you know what the price will be."

The body of Keter stopped short of leaving, a final thing hovering on the mind of the monkey and the Shade, "Information for free for you, Tatiana. Zuraw, the wolf. She had no choice like the rest of us. We'd attest and confess, if you'd like, to coercing her, if you would consider retracting her Zakona status. She started as nothing, and she'd be die-hard loyal to an alfha who treated her not terribly. She was only loyal to the Pariahs because Kir Lantos betrayed her, that's what that was at the end, as you probably guessed, and they showed her kindness. For the rest of us it was a score to settle, but for her it was revenge for a world upheaved and trust shattered. We'd strike a deal to see her free of our sins, Karstoff."
Edited by Keter, Wed Jan 4, 2017 8:18 am.
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Carmen
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"It is done, then," Inferna whispered. "No one harms a Castile."

We did not do this on our own. I hope Zuraw can find some peace. Kir Lantos harmed many, some far more than me.

"Us. And it doesn't matter. He's dead."

The danger is past. Release me, Carmen commanded.

Inferna frowned, looking at the injured and the dead. Her eyes lingered on Ithuen and Karstoff. "There's still danger here," she replied through gritted teeth.

I wasn't asking.

The fiery warrior grunted and, begrudgingly, relinquished control, stepping into an empty compartment of the liner for the transformation. Carmen stepped out, her gaze flicking over the bodies of innocent men and women she hadn't had time to save. She pushed herself forward; they would have to be mourned later. Right now there was still work to be done.

Carmen came upon Ithuen and she swallowed hard. The woman's injuries were severe, and no one had the skills needed to help her. It was heartbreaking, and she had to tear her eyes away. If they managed to get back to Chaon, she would spend time learning the arts of the doctors and surgeons that had been kept on retainer at the Castile Estate.

"Ansgar," she said, moving to the twice-wise. "Are you alright? Do you," she lowered her voice, "still intend to hurt the Marquise?"

After she finished speaking with Ansgar, Carmen went to Tatiana and bowed her head respectfully. "Marquise," she said in greeting. "You have decided 'what needs to be destroyed'. Please, enlighten me, for I do not yet understand what that might be."

Ansgar
 
The monster Twice-Wise was covered in wounds. Frostbite had blackened half of each arm and leg as well as his snout and ears. Deadened flesh also was visible in uneven tracts across his back, where the Ethereal winds had hit him relentlessly, making him look like he was covered in grisly stripes. None of the frostbite looked like it had reduced his ability to move at all. The draconid settled back on his haunches like a trained bear, watching Carmen.


"It was made clear to me that my purpose is not realized and my odds of winning are slim. We're called Twice-Wise, after all," he said. "The State gave me a great blessing. An entire second lifetime to learn how I might best serve Her. Our general, Barsmid the Great, focuses on military and culture. I must... think more about what my focus will be. My mind is very clouded. Likely through some flaw of my own. There would never be a flaw in the process that made me into this, as Abnathea is infallible. I have time to work through it, at least."

He turned to look at the distant mountains. "You reminded me earlier, before my ascension, about an old acquaintance. Perhaps I will see if she's in need of a bodyguard, until I can tease apart the deeper meaning of this second life."

Karstoff
 
See?" Karstoff said, looking at Glug and gesturing toward Carmen. "Last I saw this one, she was very close to dying. But she didn't allow herself to die. It's quite simple." She gave the Castile's question a moment of thought. "People like me tend to get caught playing a long game. Plots against me can get... elaborate. Roman Hatiri probably spent centuries earning my trust, and he did a good job of it. We were never very close, but I felt we had a mutual respect for each other. A very good professional relationship. Wrong yet again."

She started chuckling dissonantly, placing her hand against her face. "Sorry, I'm rambling. Haven't had a decent conversation in a while. Gets a bit lonely when everyone thinks you're a murderous tyrant. You asked... oh, right, about the destruction.

"It's time to start from square one. The Wine River bid ended with some kind of half-living death trap that was going to kill me or seal me forever or something, like I'm some ancient evil. So that company, their developments, their projects, it all has to go. Need to make sure to nip it completely in the bud. In fact, while we're at it, let's get rid of that disgusting city they purged as well. Nine Angels is like this lame mule that they nailed a bunch of shiny steel onto and said it was a destrier. Its unnatural existence kind of sickens me, to be honest. The only way to fix it is to, you know. Put it down." The Marquise delivered the grim news with just enough levity that she sounded like she was imparting an unfortunate but unavoidable truth.


"Throughout Imythess' history, there have been numerous forced relocations one groups, peoples, and races. Each of these was carried out by one power or another flying the banner of greater good. Yet history looks back at these decisions with disgust, at the leaders involved with derision. Someone like you may live long enough to endure the realization of the terrible mistake you are about to make. The men and women of Nine Angels have seen what their city is capable of becoming, both the good and the bad. Their hopelessness has been scoured away, and there is a gleam of polish there I think they will work not only to maintain, but to spread and brighten. The city has potential. Value. It should not be snuffed out like some unwanted candle. It will only turn more of the populace against you."

The goblin had resorted to bargaining away his aakona status. It was working about as well as Carmen expected; not at all. She had yet to try and negotiate away her own, but there was still time for that. She suspected that it would not be so individual a task as Glug had attempted. Rather, Carmen expected that the Pariahs would either all be zakona, or none of them would be.

Karstoff
 
Karstoff propped her chin on her hand in a thoughtful manner, listening until Carmen was completely done.

"If you had stopped at the thought that I'm just going to be looked at with disgust, I would've dismissed it. I don't give a single flying [removed] what other countries or people think about me. But... I know what it's like to have regrets that are centuries old." Her expression became more grave. "It's not pleasant," she added softly.

A sigh. Then she continued. "This is all very sentimental, and I can appreciate that, but the world doesn't run on nice ideas. It runs on well-applied money. I need something economic, something more than just what the hasenka suggested. Nine Angels needs to have some kind of economic value to the Balefire Dominion before I can really spare it. But if we can figure that out, I'd be-- yeah, I'd actually be glad to let the citizens of Nine Angels keep their hometown."


It seemed that, with the help of some gentle persuasion, Nine Angels would be spared the Marquise's wrath.

What remained was to provide Tatiana with something she deemed worth the removal of the branding as zakona. It was not so simple as asking for it, as Glug had demonstrated, and Tatiana was in no short supply of menial laborers or henchmen to do her bidding. What was offered had to be more exceptional; something uniquely helpful to her ambitions.

Carmen swallowed and spoke up again.

"Marquise. The Wine River. From where does it get its name?"

Karstoff
 
Karstoff's earlier grin turned into one more akin to a shark. She sidled up next to Carmen, wrapping her human arm around the much shorter woman's shoulders. "Why, it's called the Wine River because its coast makes excellent darkwine vineyards." She slouched down so that her face was a bit closer. "Whatever could prompt such a question from you, miss Castile? I'm very curious what's on your mind."


Carmen started to smile when she realized that Ithuen had been saved, but her cheer faded as Tatiana wrapped an arm around her slender shoulders. And chill ran the length of her spine and her body tensed in the Marquise's grasp.

Suddenly what had started out feeling like a bad idea felt much, much worse.

She tried not to stare at that predatory grin, or imagine the thoughts whirling through Tatiana's head. Already Karstoff had spoken Carmen's family name aloud, a name she'd desperately kept secret ever since leaving home. What more this woman might say or think or do frightened Carmen to her core.

"What if I could get you more of the wine you and Lantos shared at our table?" she said, gulping down the lump in her throat.

"Or," she hesitated.

Don't

I know what I am doing.

Do you? Inferna asked.

No, she admitted to herself.

"If the soil is as fertile as you say. I know much about agriculture. Cultivation. Wine making. Nine Angels could be home to a new vineyard. A new line of ice wines. There isn't one among my family's product. The weather in Castile County isn't right for it, and freezing the grapes with sorcery is far too harsh a process. With the Castile name, it would bring work, skilled laborers, wealthy merchants, even tourism to the area. My winery, in addition to the scorchliner, would attract commerce, industry, trade and growth."

She looked up at the Marquise.

"But I would own it. Not my father the Count. But, we must agree, a business owner of such stature here simply could not be zakona."

Her gaze steeled, hard like granite, a look she'd perfected in the mirror with months of practice, after seeing her father use it countless times in negotiation.

"And neither could her fellow Pariahs."

Well, except the monkey.

Agreed.

Karstoff
 
Karstoff gave Carmen's shoulders a brief squeeze before letting her go. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Fabulous. You Pariahs are not bad, I'll give you that. But..." She extended an arm to the other Wine River Pariahs. "I have to say, these people around you are very well zakona. They even have the look of it, don't they? But Carmen Castile is not zakona. Sure, there was a Pariah known as the Princess, but who would think they're the same person? The Princess might have been caught in a bad way, but they pretty well stuck out from the rest. And once the Wine River Pariahs disbanded, the Princess was never seen from again. Maybe they were pardoned, maybe they were killed. Backswamp folk love their tales, after all. Stories get bigger, they get twisted, you know?"

Spinning on a heel, the tall woman laced her fingers together and eyed everyone in the group in turn, smiling thinly. "One thing I know after all my years is how powerful stories are. Even when they're not completely true, mortals are so compelled by stories that it influences their culture, their behavior even. And I have something very much in mind for the story of the Wine River Pariahs. It will be the best way for all of you to help this country, but it requires you to be zakona. Except, of course, the Pariah who was nicknamed the Princess was never seen again. Though there is a woman named Carmen who is not zakona. Am I clear to everyone on this, or does anyone else have a reason just as good as hers for me to pardon you?"


Carmen shrank away, weighing the consequences of what she'd just bargained. The wealth she would earn could not be denied, but using her family name, their sigil. . . this was something she had not done in years. Her father would learn of it within days, and when he did, he would come for her.

You aren't ready.

I know.
Edited by Carmen, Wed Jan 4, 2017 1:15 pm.
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Mobster Man
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Finally, it was over. Zuraw dealt the final blow, everyone looking on as she slew the enemy. Yurim walked over to her and made a slight bow, "Good job Zuraw. Knew you wouldn't betray us."

He cleaned off his daggers on a scrap of cloth and went over to Karstoff, he sat down heavily and sighed, "So, we're all still Zakona. Figures. Stupid to think otherwise, not that it would change what we'd all do next."

He listened in on the thoughts of destroying Nine Angels, and Yurim grimaced, "Don't paint it up to much. Lets face it, without the Pariahs the people wouldn't have helped. I bet nobody but me was planning on staying in Nine Angels. Which is why I have a proposal for you Karstoff."

It was an idea he had for a long time, it was something he could do, make some money, and have some safety, give a little back to The Friends that had given him purpose outside of being a self-serving git, "I can get you Shadowdancers. I know what you think, Shadowdancers aren't exactly super rare, but this place is very close to the Shadow Plane. We revive the town with some government funding, really rebuild, get the old Shadow Temple fixed up. I'll stay in Nine Angels, train new Shadowdancers or teach your spies some of my shadowy tricks. I evaded Hatiri until..." He waved his arm up in the air out of frustration, "This shit happened. I know Nine Angels doesn't have a lot going for it, it can barely scrape by with an almost mined out silver mine, but if you help me set up a program to make Shadowdancers for your people's use, we could use that money to try and find a more stable way to boost the Nine Angels economy or luck out and find an untapped vein of silver."

Karstoff


Yurim tapped his foot, his Shadowdancers weren't enough... but the other suggestions were starting to link up. Nine Angels could be saved, but they needed a solid infrastructure, that meant basic rebuilding followed by the revival of business. Yurim stopped tapping his foot, "So we'll need to tear down the new shit and get some construction done. I bet some of the people out there know how to actually build homes and other buildings, may not look pretty, but it's not like a place out here needs to be pretty."

His hand scratched at his cheek below his missing eye, "Clean water... medicine... some Shadowdancers, yeah not enough. We're near the water... so we should try and get some farming land? If we can make some areas to grow rice using the river water we could become more self-sufficient for food... plus plenty of places should be growing water chestnuts to... could use that for flour and just for eating. If we can get the plots of land cleared out, as I said we could definitely grow some rice, we'd just need the supplies and some actual farmers to help out with starting it all up."

Karstoff


Yurim frowned, "It's not about how good the soil is, it's what might survive. As for wine... ever hear of Swamp Grapes? I guess they're called Muscadine or somethin', I just know the wine it makes isn't half bad. A large vineyard would also work for tourism. Cascadian wine-junkies would pay for tours, so would the upper class of Balefiren society."

Yurim smirked at Bearkiller, "I guess we just can't keep a good corrupt guard down. I doubt all of us are staying to help Nine Angels. As for our zakona status, honestly, I don't care. I'm a thief, I'm just gonna get tagged again once I make a big heist, but it might help these guys to get their shit done. I can take on a fake name, get a good disguise, and play the part of a Priest in the Shadow Temple while I train your new Shadowdancers."

Yurim stood up straight, stretching as he yawned, "Honestly I'd offer the Mask of Momus as a way to get the status off of us, but the mask isn't worth shit unless you're a theater goer. I mean come on, think of all the good P.R this'll get ya with who ever is left in the government. 'Karstoff re-building instead of destroying' you could 'ask' for donations from the Lords and Ladies and any of them that are dead you could probably freeze and acquire all of their assets, make up some bullshit story of how they wanted to invest it in city-reconstruction. Shit, I bet you already know every legal loophole you could use to siphon us some funds, you'd have to with having to get that useless bunch of Lords and Ladies to get anything actually done."

Karstoff


So that was it, Yurim would fake being a Priest for a while, help with making rice paddies, help find enough Muscadine grapes to make a vineyard, and teach Czajka to read just as he promised. He grimaced, "Looks like I'm not gonna be a thief for a long time."
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Alexandra
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Alex looked at Ithuen's soon-to-die form and exhaled. Rage built up inside of her. She cut her last deal in a nearly dream-like state, confused and worried and trying her hardest not to make things worse in that tiny, miserable train car. By the end she finally found one option that hurt the least number of people. Alexandra Brie Marne sold herself. She had already lost everything, it didn't seem so awful. She was wanted in Cascadia and Balefire, for two very different reasons.

Ithuen Bearkiller sputtered back to life, and without a second thought Alex lifted the woman and hugged her close. Adrenaline pumped through her as she lifted Ithuen up. The thousand different pains that held her back faded. Her warped mind focused.

"I wasn't about to let you die. There's a scummy little town that needs some care." Alex didn't mention the price. She carried the woman all the way to the main group, set her down, and rested beside her as the pain crept back. She didn't want to speak as she recovered from the carry, so she motioned to Mira to make the offer she had discussed earlier.

Mira approached Karstoff. "My boss has told me that for one, she's going to fix up Nine Angels and build them a public water utility because she's got some arcane engineering degrees. For two, she's curious if you can get her help while she fixes the cars so she can save what she called 'taxpayers'. Oh, what a cascadian."

"I'd imagine everyone in the engine crew is dead," Karstoff said, stretching languidly. "It's all you."

"I can help," Aufdein said edgewise, wringing his hands. "I know a bit about this." Alex smiled at Aufdein's request and spoke.

"That makes three of us. My golem is good at following directions." Mira snorted.

"A public water utility sounds good. I'm feeling more confident in my choice now that I know you're not all a bunch of useless ruffians." Alex winked at Karstoff.

"Honestly, Karstoff, Ithuen's not actually that corrupt in the grand scheme of things. Your head sheriff did just try to kill you. Ithuen has only made threats given she assumed you were about to kill everyone she knew. Given what my sister has said about doing business here, she's probably dead average." Alex leaned close to Mira and whispered to her. The golem deactivated for a few minutes before springing back to life. Alex rose to her feet, locked a quick hug around Zuraw, then stumbled out to the car. "Ansgar, I've bled quite a lot, I've been tumbled through a scorchliner and someone tossed a dagger at me. Could you help me walk? The adrenaline's all gone, now I just want to go home.

She set to work on the individual segments of liner, assisting any volunteers over the metamana as she went. It was obscure work. But it was done.

Later, after Karstoff had conveniently left, Alex brought up the subject of her conversation. "I can get all of you safe passage to Cascadia if you are still Zakona and wish to leave Balefire. That includes you, Ithuen. The Air Navy takes on recruits under false names as well."




Alex laid out a spread of documents on the table. A city engineering book peaked out of her robe. "Anokaz pumpworks blueprints. Korso, how are we doing on ethereal-powered street lighting? Ithuen, are the legal contacts moving forwards so we can rip up half the town to install running water? I don't like the raised pipes, the book said we are way too cold for raised pipes..." A lone senka wandered onto the back of her hand. The meeting went on. "Want to hit the tavern tonight? My treat. Time to relax and get the last of the crisis out of us."




Alex dismounted Apple far from town, on the road from Nine Angels to Distant County. Another road crossed, leading to two massive backswamps ranches. Alex produced a bottle of whiskey, the best she could find in town, and put it down at the edge of the crossroads. A note dangled, tied to the neck of the bottle with a length of red, chalky line.

A gift to the woman who saved my life. If you need some help finishing it, you know where to show up.

Alexandra Brie Marne





A letter traveled miles and miles, was inspected twice and nearly rejected after the weight of inspection seals overburdened the stamps stuck on it.

Dear Sir Zuraw,

How is the south? Seen the ocean yet? If there's one thing I miss, it is water warm enough to swim in. I'm going to come and see you someday, I promise. But I'm not done here. I've got promises to fulfill.

Alexandra Brie Marne
Edited by Alexandra, Wed Jan 4, 2017 11:31 pm.
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