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Into The Depths; [Minor ST 3]
Topic Started: Wed Mar 15, 2017 11:02 am (2,483 Views)
Lorica
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They went down, down, down. Lorica stayed near the rear of the group, keeping an ear open for any pursuers. It was also so that she didn't have to stand too close to the prince and his Dal'mar bodyguards. The temptation to simply walk away from this job mounted with every step she took down the dark tunnels. She didn't have much trust to spare in the best of times, and nothing the elves had done up to this point had earned them any more.

Throatslitter led them to a small headquarters deep beneath the earth. It was populated by more saurians wearing plate armor and armed with short spears. They were led into a building where the prince immediately dissolved their contracts.

Lorica let loose a raucous guffaw. It took almost a minute for her laughter to fade, wiping tears from her eyes. "Oh, your highness. I see now you're fated for great things. It is so wonderfully tyrannical of you to lead us much further into this shit-show before you voided our agreement. Now what? Go along with you or be forced to find our way back to the surface, alone, without your fancy deer or precious bodyguards?"

"It's a loaded choice you give us: die fast or die slow."
Although she was still smiling, the expression was not particularly friendly. "You want help for nothing and that makes you a fool. Or maybe that's simply the way of royalty... perhaps the two words are synonymous." She shook her head in theatrical disbelief. "Are you so bloated with ego to realize the only thing keeping me from tearing your guts out of your asshole was our contract?"

Lorica held both hands up, palms out and empty, to show his bodyguards that she didn't plan on following through with the threat. "For all that, I'm staying. I'll help get back the engineers you left unprotected in enemy territory. Do you want to know why?"

She leaned forward and spoke in a stage whisper, pitched loud enough for everyone to hear. "Because you'll owe me, you inbred prick. You'll go to bed each and every night on your down mattress knowing that you, the scion of Norwood royalty, had to beg and plead me, a dirty sellsword, to save his heinie. That all you could accomplish by playing soldier was getting your Dal'mar Captain killed."

"All Norwood ever gave me was nightmares. I'm staying to give you more of the same. One day I'll call in a favor, prince... and if you don't grant it I'll make your life a living hell. I'll tell everyone from the Ice Plains down to Choer that it was Crown Prince Seyvel himself who ordered this weapon built and was responsible for its detonations. Let's see you ascend to the throne with that rumor floating around."


The Keeper stood up suddenly, looking to the Dal'mar. "You two might be arrogant, but at least you can hold your own in a fight. I wouldn't mind having you along." The Keeper jabbed an accusatory finger straight at Seyvel. "The same does not go for him. If he goes, I don't. I figure his royal skull is too thick to understand that, so be good little peons and make sure he gets it."

With that she turned her back and walked away from the gathering, out into the main camp. She didn't relax until she was out of sight from the elves. Truth be told, she almost wished one of them would try to attack her. It would give her an excuse to cut them down. She trailed after Throatslitter. "Yo, Scaly! You guys drink anything down here that isn't distilled from mushrooms? I got a rotten taste I wanna wash out of my mouth."

OOC
 
In case it wasn't clear, I vote we go after the engineers. If this is a vote.
Edited by Lorica, Fri Apr 14, 2017 9:06 pm.
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Shirine
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Shirine though on Volare's words and said, "I know you are scared, but being scared won't help us. Don't worry if all else fails I will still be there with you. You won't be alone. Also we aren't lost yet. They have not crossed the line of no return, so have hope." She hugged Volare trying to comfort her and stayed like that for a bit letting her vent her fears and anger.

When Volare looked to be a bit better Shirine continued, "Now then feeling a bit better I hope? For now we must try and help the engineers and this prince. I can't be sure, but there is a chance the engineers will listen. The engineers may have made a massive mistake, but they probably understand the mistake more than others would. Hopefully they are also not so young and foolish. They are also the best chance of making defenses against the weapon they created. We at least have to get them first as their knowledge is the most likely to replicate that horrible weapon and the less time they are in the hands of enemies the better. Then we need to go to that lab and make sure it is purged of any method to create the weapons again.

Though I know it is hard, when we have the engineers and the prince together perhaps you should tell your own story to them. A real story of what can go wrong on their current path. It may have the most impact. I won't force you though. Just think about it. For now we should get back to the others for a bit. It is late and we need to get some sleep after making a decision on where we are going. Of course we can continue our discussion in our tent for the night.

In the morning I will also want to go around and talk to the people of this village. Get to know them and what they are capable of. It is best to know your allies as well as your enemies. This sound good my love.
She nuzzled Volare once more before heading back to camp.

Comming back she saw Kalim sitting with a drink and called over, "So have they decided on what they want to do yet. I personally want to get the engineers first as they have the most knowledge of this stupid new weapon. What a mess this is... I had hoped for more from my own kind.... Oh and did anyone get information on what Throatsliter and his clan can do? If not I plan on touring this place tomorrow, so we know what they can bring to the table."

OOC: Shirine's current priorities is engineers, lab then prototypes. May change depending on what we learn of course.
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Kalim
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Should be just about time. Hopefully by now everyone would've gotten their complaints out of their system and they could get down to business. Kalim took one last look around the settlement. What an odd existence. The lizard-folk he could understand, but it was hard to imagine that any human would live down here, no matter the purpose. Maybe once things had settled down a bit he'd stop to chat with a few of them.

A voice called out from the darkness, and he looked up to see Shirine returning from wherever her and Volare had disappeared to. He raised a hand in greeting. "Don't know," he replied to her. "I left. Listening to everyone was giving me a headache." Volare was also partly responsible for that, but he wasn't about to tell Shirine that. He slowly nodded. "Getting the technicians back first probably is the right choice. Whatever everyone's opinion on the lance, I think - hope - we can all agree that the ones that worked on it were just doing their job. Yeah, a rescue mission sounds pretty nice after trudging through all this gloom." Slapping his hands against his knees, he pushed himself up.

The mercenary stood and went back inside the structure where most of his other companions waited. It seemed his attempt to escape noisy discontent was a failure. Lorica was going off on a tangent against Seyval, while Throatslitter slinked off nearby. He called after the Saurian as he waited for the woman to finish. "Hey, when you get the chance, teach your friends to make better tea."

As the lady mercenary wrapped up her spiel and followed Throatslitter, he shrugged at the prince. "It might not be what you want to hear, but she's right. Leave the fighting to us and stay somewhere safe...er. We'll do what you paid us for and get your engineers back. Having your Dal'mar along would help, especially those swords of theirs, but I wouldn't ask them to abandon their duty of protecting their prince."

His piece done, Kalim retreated to a corner of the room began to rummage around in his pack. He retrieved a small wrapped package and pulled a piece of hardtack from it. Briefly dunking it in the mug of tea he still carried, he took turns between taking bites and breaking off small pieces to push into his pocket. Novi began to stir, and soon he felt her moving around as she gulped down the food.
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Mistalee
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The elven ranger was just fed up with how some of the others were acting. She understood why they were upset about the deception, she was not thrilled about it herself. Though she seemed to be one of the few managing to keep a level head. This group was certainly a test of patience.

She nodded to the prince. "All I ask is that you keep an open mind about this. I have seen how such things can go very badly. Even if we don't use them for our own nation...others could try to kill for them. Remember...most of my family is dead because they were protecting an artifact, which then ended up backfiring killing the murders themselves. And that was just a minor artifact, imagine the type lust for power these spikes could bring out of people."

Her family's death was not something she spoke of often. It was common knowledge among the nobility and royalty in Norwood, so mentioning it the the prince would be no revelation. She just hoped that it would help put things into perspective a little bit. At least to help him understand that there could be many unforeseen consequences of creating such artifacts.

"Getting those engineers is what is most important right now. With them safe, we can at least ensure the enemy can't force them to make more. Perhaps they may even know how to counteract them should we be unable to get them back," she suggested. "I will join the hunt for them. Stealth will be needed for that mission...and stealth is what I am good at."

She wanted to go and rest. It had been a long day. They were all tired, and emotions were running high. Hopefully in the morning everyone would be calmer and be able to act like professionals. She did not trust the others though...and did not want to leave them alone with the Del'mar and the prince. At the very least, should any of them do the incredibly stupid and attack the prince, she could enjoy the show of them getting beaten.
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Volare
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She wasn’t. She was still angry, still scared, and still had a mind to execute the people who had come up with this fatalistic plan in the first place: the very people, ironically, that they were supposed to be rescuing. But it was clear that Shirine wished to return to the group, and nothing more was going to happen here. Back at their tent, perhaps…but not here, and not now; she completely disagreed with Shirine, although she did agree that the engineers were a top priority, so she would postpone her response until they were back at camp. She nuzzled Volare, then, and Volare couldn’t help but move in close, feeling as Shirine felt, breathing as she breathed. She felt in sync again, and yet…perhaps if she had still been what she once was, she could have felt what nature felt and breathed as nature breathed.

Her anger was not gone. It was merely locked away - for now, at least.

Back at camp, Shirine spoke briefly with Kalim. Then, when she was ready, she and Volare were alone once more in their tent. She had three options right now, the way she saw it: kill something, talk, and unleash her fury in a more…passionate way. She sure-as-the-Abyss didn’t feel like talking right now, and she seriously doubted killing something was good for her at the moment. Her old, emotional wounds were wide open once more and she felt fully, if only as a potent memory, everything that she had lost. Her old instincts mixed with her new ones in a discombobulating conundrum that made her want to tear the flesh from the bones of anything that moved.

Decided on the middle ground, and she threw everything she had into her passion. Her transformations had given her stamina, but even the pair of werefelines could only endure so much before they were exhausted. When she was tired, she talked; when she was done talking and started to feel like murdering something again, she continued her romp. When she finally fell into a fitful sleep, she awoke a few hours later somewhat rested but in no fit state to mingle. She cleansed herself as best she could and influenced her wardrobe outfit into cleaning itself as well. When she emerged from the tent at last, she felt only a little better than she had before she’d retired to Shirine’s tent.

But on the plus side, she was just “cranky” now.
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Ahkrum
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This group and its leadership were absolutely ridiculous. There appeared to be no real sense of direction or clue about what they were going to do, and the prince seemed to be a naive fool. Well, with all of that being what it was, what was there truly for Ahkrum to do? He was a follower, an elite, sure, but he was not particularly renown for his ability to plan and strategize, rather to act and finalize. He was the sort who was given a plan and then saw it through to a, (usually bloody,) conclusion.

"Ahkrum says save engine-ers." He said after a moment of quiet and deep thought on the matter, something which made him seem like his head might have burst from how much effort it was taking him. It ultimately came down to a very simple logic of a sort of quid pro quo sort. Since he had asked for nothing but his people to be protected by the elves of Norwood, then in exchange it only made sense to try saving those from Norwood who had been endangered underground, "Save engine-ers, kill things that tries to stop force. Same for things that try to hurt engine-ers. Ahkrum will try this."

With his piece being said, the fae nodded to himself. What more was there to say? Or to do. Finding food would be a good idea! Eat, drink, and rest until they left. What good would trying to keep track of time do where there was no sun or moons by which to follow? Maybe somebody had one of those devices that the larger beings of the surface were carrying around, the ones that kept time, but Ahkrum definitely had nothing of the sort.
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Lachesis[ST]
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"What tea we get, we get from above, Kalim." The saurian grinned widely, teeth and all, at him. "We don't grow things like that down here. We have to steal or buy them from above. Perhaps if you brought some tea with you? I do have some of this." He flashed the clay jug hidden to one side, out of sight of the others. "It'll give your scales a nice gloss, this will."

"You don't listen very well, Lorica." The prince' words were stiff and clipped, and hard. "You make as many assumptions about me as I have been making about all of you. You are a hypocrite if you think that just because you are the one making the assumptions makes it any better than what I have done." His eyes glint in the light, and his face is tight. Even still, he mastered his emotions - anger, directed at the former Keeper. He looks around, and shrugs. "I was not to go any further in any case. I am not a soldier, but I am not completely helpless either."

He cast a hard stare at Volare. "We created it, but not by intent. You have convinced me that it should be destroyed, Mistalee. Volare as well. All of you, really. I had hoped to use it as a means of defense but..." He shook his head slowly. "Too many unknowns, and already it has fallen into the wrong hands." He wanted to say that trying to compare Norwood with a bunch of avaricious humans was unfair, considering that his people had done nothing of the sort. But there was no speaking such, because it would change nothing.

Throatslitter stepped back into the room, then, and grimaced. "And in any case, if anyone should not be listened to, it is you, werekin. You have absolutely no control of your emotions. You are a danger to everyone here, mark my word on it. Do not give me a reason to have to put you down like a rabid guruk. The past is the past, and you should move on rather than clutching it to your chest." The Al'shari looked rather thoughtful about that, but it was unclear why.

"There is no need for threats, Al'shari. There is too much tension here." He looked back to Lorica. "If you really want out of this, Lorica, an escort will be provided to the surface. What you have earned from having to endure my company thusfar will still be paid to you." He paused, and then leaned away from the wall to look you levelly in the face. "I would prefer if you stayed on, though, sharp tongue and all. You have certain talents, just as the rest of you do. That is the only reason this plan will even have a chance of working - the lot of you are worth you weight in gold. I may be ignorant in some ways, but you have more than demonstrated your capability to achieve this mission, whatever your distaste for how I went about doing it or for my person."

Throatslitter looked on, and shrugged. "In any case, I will be coming with you in what passes for morning down here. The Prince will meet with the Na'al'laek of the Cunein tomorrow, and we will part ways."

"I will also accompany you. I will let that arrogant comment slide for now," said Zilyana in an odd mixture of play and seriousness. "My primary duty was not so much escorting he Prince as providing what assistance I can to you."

Tyrist grinned. "Shame the Captain didn't make it, but this is hardly an unusual prospect when you are among the Dal'mar. We just don't express losses in terms of hundreds in an engagement." There was an air of alse joviality about that, though. Perhaps the Captain and Tyrist had been close, but it was probably not something that the human Da;'mar would comment on, even if pressed. "You can probably find a use for us."

"Then that is all I need say on this matter. I leave you in the capable hands of Throatslitter." The Prince stood upright and straightened himself out, and then stalked from the room. However he might have sounded, it was clear he was disgruntled with the group, and knew there wasn't anything he could do about it.

"Something to drink not made from mushrooms, Light-Blinded? I doubt your liver is up to the task." Throatslitter looked to Tyrist with a feral grin, and lifted the hand that had been concealed from the rest of them. A clay jug sloshed, and the saurian popped a cork out of it. The air was immediately saturated with what must have been pure alcohol. "I have fifty notes on this Sun-Cursed child quitting before she gets into it too far." Tyrist chuckled at this. "Well, then, Lorica-the-Tainted, let us go and bring you through the rites of passage. We don't make piss water like you Sun-Cursed folks do." He beckoned with a clawed hand and an inviting grin. "It'll be nice to lose fifty bucks and have some fun with someone other than a light-weight long-ears."




If it was morning, it was hard to tell. Things did not change much this deep underground, not even a shift in the temperature which was, oddly, not very cool. It was hard to tell how far down they had gone, but there was a feel of radiant heat from Chaon itself.

Most of the people within the camp were minding their particular tasks, and only glanced at you as you arose from wherever it was you had chosen to rest. Throatslitter was up, bright eyed and leathery tailed, sitting on a stone next to a smokeless fire. The saurian was drinking something from a stone cup that steamed and smelled incredibly bitter - likely a morning-after cure for the torrent of colorless, tasteless booze he had drank the night before. Whatever it was, it had to have been working.

After all of you have arrived around the watch fire, the Al'shari stands, and nodded to all of you. "Right, then. Now that we do not have that long-ears weaned on arrogance to muddy the waters, lets try to do something other than bicker." He cast a glance at Tyrist and Zilyana, and grinned at them unapologetically. "Your Prince needs to grow into the shoes he wants to fill before he gets someone bloody killed - a whole lot of somebodies - but his heart is in the right place even if his mouth isn't."

Tyrist shrugged at the comment. "Part of life some days."

"I suppose, before we get rolling, that I should say something. I was put forward to lead this foray into the enemies own bedroom, but if you do not want me to come along, then so be it. I would just say that I have skills in this area," he said, and pointed to several spears laying on the ground next to him, the black auracite alloy tips gleaming in the firelight. "regardless, I am not the one who will lead this mission. I know where the enemy is and how to get there, but I can tell you just as easily as lead you, and regardless I will have to tell you anyway."

The saurian spread some ashes out on the ground in front of him, and took up a spear, using the haft to draw in the ashes, creating a map. "The scale is off, but that doesn't matter. This tells you what you need to know." He pointed at one point of the map. "Where we are." And at another point. "Where the Na'hill band is at. Around fifty of them there, maybe more, maybe less. It is a main post for them in this area. This is not traditional Cunein territory where even this outpost is here, but they aren't bothered to remove us yet."

He indicated the enemy camp again. "There are four or five large structures, multiple story, any of which could hold our captives. The city is laid out in a grid like the others are, but most of the buildings beyond those five are in ruins. There are a few smaller buildings, but they are not likely to hold more than a few enemies, if any. They will have the passage leading in from the front guarded with a few senttries, and the back passage as well, but the bulk of their forces will be concentrated around those buildings."

And then he indicated several twisting pathways, many of which branched off not far away from what he had marked as their current location. "There are several ways to get there from here. The Na'hill are a bit more dilligent than our friends back in that other dead city were, but they are still vulnerable to a small raiding team provided no one gets reckless. The passage over there-" he points to one of the tunnels leading away from, "-branches off a mile or so away from here. One path leads through another of these ancient cities that are scattered around the underworld, and comes into their camp overhead where a section of the floor collapsed into the chamber they are using, which is another of these ancient villages. That route will give you a good view from above, and a place to overview the placement of enemies before launching whatever methods you choose to use."

He pointed out that route, which was the longest one. "They do tend to patrol the old peoples' places, but it easier to avoid them in those places than in the tunnels and caves. Those patrols are generally only five to six men each in any case."

He pointed to the next scrawled path. "This is essentially a straight path right into their encampment at ground level. There are some sections where the tunnel has collapsed that define choke points, and these are watched, but typically watched by very few clansmen. This would be the best approach for a direct assault or some kind of luring attack to draw off the main protection from the engineers."

Finally, he pointed to the last possible route that he had drawn. "And this passage winds down deep and ends in the cellars of that dead city. Its a warren of old rooms and cellars. Many of the walls have been broken to allow passage between rooms while staying beneath street level. There may be people in some of those rooms, but there wasn't when I last went there to look myself. It would be easiest to sneak around and look for our captives this way, since many of the basement interconnect and there will be some that lead into the major buildings."

"You keep saying that the flunkies we already ran into are a joke. How will these fellows compare?" Tyrist queried, looking thoughtful.

"They are much more skilled and much more unified. And they are mostly Al'shari, like myself. I am sure I do not need to tell you to have a care with those - you surface dwellers are fast, but we can be vipers for short bursts."

He picked up the spears and the shield he had left on the ground. "If you will have me, I would come along. I do not get the opportunity to have a good throw-down much, these days. I would need to know whom I am going with, if thats the case. You do not need to all go the same way, by the way. Your metamana devices will work in this short range, so you will be able to communicate with each other during this operation."

Shouldering his gear, he offered them a feral grin. "Shall we? I know some of us are eager to get to killing things," he said with a nod to the tiny man on his spider.

What do you do?

OOC
 
The next ST post will be on Saturday, April 22nd, at 1:00 PM. There is an extra day this round because I will be working from 6Am on Friday until 10 PM at night - a recent change to my schedule.

Please use the OOC Discussion to plan how you wish to tackle this objective. You may use the OOC discussion for planning between your characters, talking with the NPCs (if you take any of them after all), and any other IC related thing. Pleae be advised that the enemies you are facing are considered strong fodder. You can determine the outcomes of actions given against these enemies, provided you respect the fact that they are not weak and actually pose a threat to your characters.

I there are any questions, you may also address these to the ST in the OOC discussion.
Edited by Aeyliea, Sat Apr 22, 2017 1:29 am.
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Kagiso
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Kagiso nodded. "My weapons are effective against their armor. I'll serve as a sniper-scout so I can keep an eye on all of you." Kagiso disappeared into the darkness and moved on ahead of the rest of the group. She followed the upper path and quickly located a rocky outcropping she thought would be difficult to reach - and had a commanding view of the area. She clambered up the rock with remarkable ease before putting together her big SAKLOS heavy crossbow. She wound it, and left her repeater ready to go on the rock beside her.

OOC
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Lorica
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Lorica laughed at the saurian's challenge. "You might find my liver is made of stronger stuff than our royal companion."



The rotgut left a sour taste in her mouth, but at least she wasn't drunk. The Wellspring, tainted though it was, still treated alcohol like it was poison. Back when she could freely control the font of life energy she could (and had, on one memorable occasion) drink an entire jug of Gwilikith moonshine without any ill effects. The slight headache she was nursing just reminded her how far she'd fallen since the Keepers were whole.

Throatslitter provided some expert advice on their destination, along with answering their questions about the Na'hill they would face. "I plan on going below," she said. "Anyone is welcome to tag along if they promise not to trip over their own feet." She went over to the fire and kicked out a piece of wood that was half-burnt to charcoal. She started to rub it into the backs of her hands, leaving behind a layer of soot. She repeated the process with every inch of bare skin, including her face and neck. It would act as decent camouflage in the lightless caverns.

Once they were ready she would take the lead, continuing to use her preternatural senses to make sure she wasn't walking into an ambush. Lorica went along the path that would lead into the basements of the subterranean city. Once reaching them she'd slow her pace to a crawl, alert for any of the Na'hill. If they happened across one she'd do her best to eliminate them as quickly and quietly as possible.

OOC
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Volare
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"And in any case, if anyone should not be listened to, it is you, werekin. You have absolutely no control of your emotions. You are a danger to everyone here, mark my word on it. Do not give me a reason to have to put you down like a rabid guruk. The past is the past, and you should move on rather than clutching it to your chest."

It took effort not to round on the lizard-folk. Unless he had experienced what she had, he had no right to speak. Shirine had not even experienced what Volare had, yet her own torture at the hands of that dark elf they had eventually faced off against was at least equivalent or nearly so. To some small extent, of course, the lizard-folk was correct: Volare was not much one for controlling her emotions. She had never needed to until she had come to Imythess. But those emotions gave her power; her ferocity was her strength, as seen in their first battle down here. She did indeed walk a fine line, a narrow chasm between her primal instincts and the civility that even the Tylwyth Teg displayed in their once-friendly interactions with others. But that was her road to travel, and the scaled one was no judge of her, whatever his opinions.
Before the meeting, Volare stretched out and worked her body until she was ready. Her blade arm would be strong and swift, her wings would beat with all the force necessary, and her hybrid form would not fail her. She joined Shirine when her mate was ready, and then she watched and listened carefully. The best route for her, of course, would be an aerial attack right above the bastards’ heads - but that was a tactic for use after they had recovered and “dealt” with the engineers…whatever that would come to mean in the end. One of the Dal’mar asked about the enemies they would face.

"They are much more skilled and much more unified. And they are mostly Al'shari, like myself. I am sure I do not need to tell you to have a care with those - you surface dwellers are fast, but we can be vipers for short bursts," the lizard told the group.

"So at worst, we simply have to outlast them," Volare said. "Like cheetahs...they can launch themselves with tremendous speed when ambushing prey, but their stamina does not last."

"We'll also be outnumbered. Trying to whittle them down through a prolonged battle isn't going to work. And don't forget they have hostages...we'll want to get in, grab them, and get out before our escape is cut off. I can try to cause some chaos in front of their gate, but unless we have a way to make some serious noise, I doubt they'll over commit for just one or two warriors. The route that leads over their camp seems like a good place to launch a surprise assault, though."

Volare nodded.

“The camp’s major weak point is that hole at the top,” she agreed. “My wings would give me the advantage. Creating enough of a distraction there may draw the majority of the enemy into one place, but we’ll need a way to kill them quickly without them murdering us in turn, and there’s the matter of the distraction itself. The more we can draw to the main camp, the fewer enemies there’ll be to fight while freeing the engineers.”

She looked up at the saurian before her.

“Do you have anything like fireworks down here?” she inquired. “Something explosive…the bigger, the better.”

She might despise the weapon that the elves had created, but something that could incinerate their enemies - or at least put them at a severe disadvantage - without stealing the essence of nature’s existence would make their assault that much easier. It would also provide them with a very noisy distraction. She also didn’t like not going after the engineers directly; if the elves got their hands on them - not the mercenaries - that would make it harder to come to a decision regarding their fate. But she had to agree that getting the engineers out was the top priority, regardless of what happened thereafter.

It was the elf archer who’d spoken out against her before that spoke up now, however. She cautioned against tiring herself out due to the lack of moving air in underground places, citing it as the cause for the severe lack of flight-capable creatures down here.

”Obviously,” she said flatly.

The woman did prove to be useful in mentioning that her arsenal of arrows contained some that were explosive, but she also mentioned that the number of guards watching the engineers might increase if they caused a huge distraction at the main enemy camp.

”That’s where the metamanas would come in,” she replied. Two groups - one to sit on the prisoners and wait, and the other to cause a distraction. As soon as both groups are in position, both groups move in at the same time. Having scouts hang back to watch for approaching reinforcements could slow them down long enough for the engineers to be freed and set on a path back here.”

Lorica had another idea entirely: whittling them down. Volare didn’t like that idea, but she might be right; the longer it took to retrieve the engineers, the more likely it was that the details of the elves’ accidental weapon would be learned by the enemy. She also inquired as to how likely they would be to kill the engineers; unfortunately, the saurian said that they wouldn’t. But Lorica had also inquired as to their skill in battle, and something about what the saurian replied to her popped up in her mind.

"That sounds like something I heard about the Istanis, once," she mentioned. "Special soldiers...always working in pairs, always in tandem. How strong are their bucklers?"

If it was just wood, and not very strong wood, then it might be no problem for some of the stronger members - Volare and Shirine, for example - to break them; but if the bucklers were forged of metal or reinforced by metal, even light-weight metal, it would add a little more difficulty. The fact that the saurian said they were “very good” at this meant that they were well-trained to the point of instinctively covering one another, and they were possibly cowards as well if they focused more on defense than offense. Defense had its uses but should never been a primary focus in a fight, in Volare’s opinion; defending for too long allowed one’s attackers to gain too much of an advantage.

The Al'shari grinned. There were quite a few teeth showing.

"Strong enough to deflect attacks. They are not designed to be used as an impregnable defense. We use our shields offensively - force opponents’ guards open by throwing their attacks off and then stepping into their open guard with our spears. Why do you think we prefer short stabbing spears and carry more than one? We can hold a couple of extra spears with the same hand that holds the shield and not be inconvenienced at all by it."


Volare nodded slowly. It made sense. Plus, if they needed to, they could always hurl one of those spears instead of jabbing with it without losing their guard. It was certainly tactically efficient, rendering some of the skills of people like Volare - who wielded a single weapon for both offense and defense - essentially useless.

"So overcoming their defenses would require someone strong enough to maintain a stout defense...and almost certainly a decent-sized shield of one's own."

She shook her head.

"That puts me out. I can only launch one star from Ivyn's Ire at a time, and I cannot both fly and attack with my wings in the same instance."

It seemed that Mistalee was correct about the sky-born assault being a bad idea. That didn't leave many options, but Volare had been in worse situations - and so had Shirine. She turned to her now.

"I will go in whichever direction you do," she said.

Her next words were in the Fae tongue, meant only for Shirine.

"My passion will guard you, as yours does mine."

Simply put, she would fight back-to-back with her mate. It was a loving sentiment.

For Personal Reference

OOC
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Ahkrum
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"Odds small, but first, try saving engine-ers. Odds too big with saving engine-ers. Ahkrum sneak in. Without L'akolb, should be easy for Ahkrum." Ahkrum said, his small stature and Spider Boots probably being more than enough to sneak him right past enemy forces undetected, "Sizes. Ahkrum go alone, or on other sneaker. Ahkrum not care which."

Ahkrum never really cared much for plans that involved parting with his battle-mount, but he could still manage perfectly fine on his own. Actually, when it came to stealth he could usually manage better on his own, and that was even considering against likesized fae. Without the arachnid to ride upon, it seemed that the larger beings had trouble getting a bead on his location, even in the thick of battle. He might simply be able to walk past the feet of unaware guards if they did not look down. . . or up, deciding on how he decided to approach it.

Very preferably he would not get there on foot, but instead riding on the shoulder or back of one of the mismatched mercenary Force's companions. Actually, if they were stealthy enough, he would prefer riding on a sneaky partner all the way to the engineers rather than having to do any of this large scale traversing on foot. Battle was one thing, he could leap from enemy to enemy striking with tiny fury until they fell like lumbering beasts, but trying to keep up with such long legs would be strenuous and unnecessarily tiring.

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Kalim
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The night, if the sun was indeed absent from the sky in the world above wherever they were right now, passed relatively uneventfully. There was one incident where Novi woke up in fit, crying. It seemed that enduring the darkness for so long had finally gotten to her. Honestly, he was surprised she had lasted as long as she did considering her childlike mind. He managed to comfort her by quietly stepping outside and removing his helmet, then allowing her to fly up inside it and look around. A dragon looking through a lens made from drake eyes seemed ironic to him, but he didn't mention that to her, and it seemed that simply confirming that her vision still worked was enough to calm her down. He returned to the mat he had taken for his bed soon after and slept away the remaining hours.

Not long after, he found himself outside the building with the rest of the group, looking at a very crude map drawn by the Al'shari. It would make any commander wince; his oldest brother, Kent, would probably scoff outright at the spear-point crafted thing. Even so, it was enough for theoretical planning, at least. The Dal'mar, their Prince now absent, directed a few questions at the Saurian, and Volare commented on his response.

"So at worst, we simply have to outlast them. Like cheetahs...they can launch themselves with tremendous speed when ambushing prey, but their stamina does not last."

Kalim frowned. "We'll also be outnumbered. Trying to whittle them down through a prolonged battle isn't going to work. And don't forget they have hostages..." Kalim's eyes ran over the crude map. His chin was pressed against his hand, while his other was balled into a fist and tapping against his leg. "We'll want to get in, grab them, and get out before our escape is cut off." He glanced around at his fellows. "I can try to cause some chaos in front of their gate, but unless we have a way to make some serious noise, I doubt they'll over commit for just one or two warriors. The route that leads over their camp seems like a good place to launch a surprise assault, though."

A series of suggestions were thrown about. He considered each in turn. At the mention of fireworks, he glanced down at his belt, where several small metal spheres were hooked. It wasn't quite the same thing, but for the purposes of a flash and a bang, they were sufficient. They were more likely to prove useful not as a distraction, however, but for clearing any rooms they might have to storm, and so he remained silent. He mentally rejected the elven noblewoman's offer to borrow her arrows as well. His crossbow wasn't suited to firing normal projectiles.

He grunted when Volare brought up how familiar the Na'hill Saurian's tactics seemed to the Istani's. "The Khazal is a thing to behold when both partners are well-attuned to each other." There was a tinge of bitterness in his voice. "But I saw nothing like it when we fought those others. They weren't coordinated at all. It might have just been bad leadership from those leaders we dealt with, but..."

He shrugged and turned towards the tunnel leading outward from the village. "I think Lorica has the right idea. Tactical elimination. Clean up the inner workings while the rest of us keep an eye on the camp proper and move in if things go to hell - which they probably will, if experience holds accurate. That means that the basement route will be our escape route, so anything you can do to make sure it isn't lost would be good."

"Also," he shot a look at Mistalee. "That they...probably won't kill the engineers is good. That gives us a lot more freedom in out actions. However. If it absolutely comes down to it...it's better for them to die than to stay in their hands, and it's a lot easier to escape without extra baggage. I'm sure you understand what I mean. That's only a last ditch effort, of course." That last, firmly spoken, was instead directed at Volare.

"I'm going above. Remember, we aren't all equipped with metamana. Novi is available if you need to contact me, and you can expect messages from her as well. Just try not to scream if you hear a pipsqueak's voice in your head, alright?" He briefly reached into his pocket and pulled out his golden friend. She yawned 'loudly' in his head. With that, he walked off, following the golem that had previously introduced herself as Hawkmouth. He very deliberately did not take point - he had seen what that crossbow of hers could do, and he did not want to be in her line of fire if they came across enemies.
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Mistalee
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The passage of time was hard to feel down in these dark tunnels without the celestial lights in the sky or changes in temperature. Still she felt better after some rest and now it was time to plan their next moves. Of course there was still arguing happening, but at least mostly people had their heads screwed on properly this time.

She gave a simple nod to Lorica. "I can join you down there," she said. "And don't worry I won't trip over my own feet." She then glanced to their smallest companion. "Your size could prove useful in the sneaking, she said. If you want I am willing to let you ride on my shoulder since you said your spider would likely not be joining us."

As Kalim spoke, she merely nodded grimly. "Silent kills will be the best to take out the enemy I agree," she said. Looks like she would be using her skills as the Black Arrow down here, just would not but using that name. It really was a name that she was trying to leave behind.

She let out a heavy sigh with the thought of killing the engineers. "I am not naive. I know that if we can't get them out...we can't let them stay in enemy hands. All I ask is that we use that only as a last resort."


Finally she looked to Throatslitter. "With your permission I would like to draw my Shadow Mark somewhere here," she requested. "It will let me quickly travel back to this location via the shadows, possibly with an ally or two, should the need arise. You can destroy it later if you want so I won't be able to shadow shift here at a later date."
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Shirine
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Shirine listed to everyone and said, "Volare I want you to go above and watch. Volare has a metamana like mine and we can communicate a bit. Once she is up above she can guide the team coming from bellow to some extent and point out the enemy positions as we go. I am decent at sneaking, so I will go with the party moving in from bellow."

Shirine planned to move out in her were-tiger form. She wanted the extra strength and flexibility of her bestial hybrid form.
Edited by Shirine, Sat Apr 22, 2017 5:22 pm.
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Lachesis[ST]
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Everyone

Throatslitter nodded at them all. "It sounds like a plan. Just remember, though, that no plan survives the first arrow leaving the bow. Too many of the Sun-Cursed bloody well forget this." The Al'shari looked at the others around the camp, and shook his head. "But they learn. It only ends up killing about a third of them that come into this place, but they learn."

Tyrist approached, cinching his armor down. He had taken it off, apparently, and had slipped something between the plates. He wasn't silent when he moved, but he was much quieter than before. When Lorica had finished rubbing herself down with soot, he did the same, as did Zilyana who had readied herself in similar fashion.

"We will be going with you, Kalim, Volare, Kagiso. An even division of numbers will work best here, we think./ Throatslitter already stated he would crawl through the basement." The Dal'mar secured his great sword on his back, and then took up several of the spears the Al'shari favored. Despite never having seen him wield them before, they seemed...familiar, in his hands.

"In any case, seven of us down below may be a bit much. If this goes well, we may not need to use weapons or force." Zilyana grinned grimly. It was clear that she did not think that was likely. "We'l watch your backs, you three, if there comes a need for it."

"There are some bows back in that hovel over there, if you would like those," the saurian said to the Dal'mar. Both of them barked a laugh, and patted their hips, then drew the strings off some kind of satchel and reached within. Each came out with a bow that was the size of a toy...for a moment, before suddenly becoming full sized in their hands. It didn't appear that they grew, just that they were one thing, then the next. The weapons were great recurved bows and looked exceptionally powerful.

"We have some, thanks. Lady Mistalee, we may request the use of some of your arrows. Depends upon what we see."

"Also, Highborn, feel free to leave your mark. Make sure you leave it in a shadow from the fire here, though. This is our territory and, by the grace of the Na'Al'Kaef, it will be allied territory between he Cunein and the Kingdom of Norwood, provided the...what was it you called him?...ah, yes, unless the princeling manages to use his tongue as eloquently with him as you."

"You give the Prince too little credit, Al'shari. He wants great things, and he is trying to find his way to achieve them." Tyrist scowled after he had spoken, and shook his head. "I just wish he would listen to us."

"It will be what it will bleeding well be," the saurian replied, and looked to the rest of you. "Enough talk. Its time for action, wouldn't you agree? We can all get drunk until we are sick afterwards, but now its serious time. We have a bit of a hike ahead of us."

You Take The High Road.... (Volare, Kagiso, Kalim, Tyrist, Zilyana)

You made yoru departing remakrs and departed from the rest of the party, heading into the passage with nothing more than the memory of a crudely drawn map to guide you. The Dal'mar hang to the back, and each of them is carrying a spear in addition to their normal arms. It is as dark as ever down in these depths, and aside from the occasional sound of dripping water and the light step of your party, it was as silent as a tomb.

True to the small map given, the passage did wind, but this one seemed a natural tunnel in comparison to the other. Eventually it wound its way into a massive open chamber filled with more of the same buildings as before. Or, at least, they appeared the same at first. These were larger, however, and seemed to be in better repair. There was also a lot of evidence of work being done in the area, tools laying scattered about. Odd structures were interspersed amongst the buildings and these had the look of recently being exposed to the air, not something left to weather in the slow air currents and dripping condensation of the underground.

Zilyana edged forward in the group, coming alongside the others for a moment. "There appears to be some kind of...machinery over there." Her voice was a very low whisper that did not carry very far at all. She indicated something that had been pried out of the ground; the hole it had come from was nearby with pulleys and ropes and other gear laying around it. A panel of stone lay on the ground, exposing intricate inner workings of...what? It was impossible to say, and it would have been unwise to go and investigate it in any case. They could hear the sound of Na'hill warriors, now, voices kept low but not low enough to not be detected from a short distance away. One of the patrols Throatslitter had mentioned was here, and they were close by. Attacking them would be folly, of course; it would raise the alarm and likely cause the entire mission to fail.

You slipped past them, keeping close to the wall and out of open spaces. The passage leading forward was clearly visible. There was no one guarding that passage, which seemed odd given that it was a potential route into the enemy encampment. It didn't matter for the moment. You moved forward, as quietly as possible. The patrol was seated on broken stone, and there were eight of them, all but two tall and with thick tails, clearly Al'shari. The other two were apparently human. Volare, you notice something else, though, as you pass by. A breath of air stirring in this subterranean world brings the smell of that party o your nose, and it seems slightly off [Trait: Wild Blood]. It is very faint, and you cannot decipher what it is without getting much closer, a likely unwise move. Instead, you follow the others into the tunnel.

The passage is far straighter than the one you arrived in the ancient city, but it doesn't go very far. Perhaps three quarters of a mile, and the floor suddenly vanished, just as the Al'shari had said it would. It became clear why they had not set a guard on this position, though; Throatslitter had said the floor had given way, opening a vista from above. The hole was a dozen paces across, but through it you could look down on another portion of ancient city. The crumbled and broken remnants of the floor lay on a rooftop directly below...twenty feet below. From here, you can barely make out four sentries standing guard on the main tunnel that none of you had elected to take. Again, the shape suggests Al'shari, but once again one of their number doesn't quite fit, and in fact doesn't even look human. At this distance it is difficult to tell what, exactly, they are.

Kagiso, the drop doesn't pose much of a problem to you. Despite the distance, you drop from the ceiling and hit the roof lightly, much more lightly than you should probably be capable of. You immediately scramble away from that point of impact, seeking higher ground. There is a ledge that offers a slightly better vantage than the ceiling you had been in moments before, and you manage to get there without being seen. In passing, you do notice that there are a good number of Na'hill in the streets, perhaps a dozen and a half. A few are warily stalking the streets, but these do not appear to be saurian or human, either. They are certainly not armed like the Na'hill you have already seen; they carry larger weapons and lack shields, and walk with a deadly, nearly predatory grace.

Kalim, Volare, and the Dal'mar are just settling into position to watch from above and await their moment, even as the other team is working its way through the basements of this place. Suddenly, from the darkness behind you, you hear a raspy chuckle. "it seems the wench wasn't lying when she told us they were coming back down here."

The voice belongs to something that looks human, but even as it approaches, its shape changes. It becomes bigger, and a bit bulkier. Lines of light flicker and flash as it stand there, cutting off your exit, and the one standing next to it is flashing in the same manner, speaking Brightspeak between one another. The Al'shari behind them do not look amused in the slightest.

Four eyes blink on the face of the first beast. "The Prince will not stop what is happening, and neither will you. You have no idea what you have stepped into, children, and neither does he." And with that, the werewolf drew a pair of heavy fighting knives and, with his companions at his back, attacked. What do you do?

...And I'll Take The Low Road (Lorica, Shirine, Mistalee, Ahkrum, Throatslitter)

You also go your seperate ways from the other party, and descend through a twisting corridor that grows narrower as it delves deeper. This path is more straight that it is windy, and it goes for a long way. The more direct route takes your party into the catacombs beneath the Na'hill encampment quicker, and you arrive before the others get through the city.

You did not expect to find what you end up finding, of course. The cellars of this ancient place have been worked with tools, and recently. There are broken pieces of some ancient machinery laying on the floor of the first basement you step into, the entrance a section of collapsed stone wall. There is no one in this room, but there is a torch burning brightly in a makeshift holder along a wall, casting flickering shadows that dance to and fro. Throatslitter stops as soon as he enters the chamber, clearly not bothered by the sudden shift from dark to light. The light, at least, is a boon to you, Ahkrum.

"They have been digging things up in these ancient places for the last several weeks, but as near as we have been able to figure they are playing a game of silly buggers." The Al'shari reached down and picked up a piece of arcane technology that had lain dead in these deep places for thousands of years, and then chucked it aside. "It would be flaming nice to know what they are up to. But we are not here for that." His words were a growl, but low enough not to carry far. The Al'shari gripped the buckler in his off hand tightly, and nodded his head towards a hole in the wall leading into the next room.

The room was empty as well, but again a torch was flickering in a bracket along the wall. The saurian regarded it with a note of question in his reptillian eyes, but said nothing. When you step into the next room, though, you step into range of detection abilities that some of your people possess. Mistalee, you can tell that the rooms you are in and, in fact, all of the rooms within range of your own unique abilities are empty. [Darkness Detection]. Unfortunately, you can sense nothing outside of these rooms which isn't very surprising at all. Such abilities require shadow, and shadow requires light; above you is pure darkness. Lorica, you are more fortunate, although your range is somewhat more limited: There are people directly overhead [Miner's Graft], although you cannot tell anything beyond that.

The two of you relay this information to the rest and, despite the apparent all-clear from your perceptions, you still move slowly through the chambers. There is more evidence of excavation in some rooms, and in others supplies are stored neatly. Some of the casks and chests bear markings that have been destroyed, likely markings that denote origins. And all through your sneaking, you find absolutely nothing to sneak past. It sets a kind of feeling about the group: unease.

After a time, you come to a well-lit room with a ladder climbing through a hole in the ceiling. There is nothing in this room except discarded tools; Lorica, you can sense no one above you no matter how hard you try.

Throatslitter looks at the ladder and the open hole, feeling something in his bones. There is really no other choice than to climb this way; all the other routes have led nowhere so far. It appears that all of the other ways up to the 'surface' have been blocked or sealed. There is only this one.

And that screams in the back of the Al'shari's mind.

Before he can speak his thoughtso n the matter, though, something slides down the ladder. It looks like a human, only far more pale. It has only two eyes, but both are blood red, and there are visible fangs in the mouth. It immediately spins as it hits the ground, and offers your party a wide grin, lacing six-fingered hands together for just a moment, popping the joints.

"We have been expecting you," the vampire says to you. "It took a lot of planning to put this together. I am happy to see that Norwood lacks the sophistication of her neighbors. Do not worry, we won't leave any of you alive to tell the tale. In fact, we won't let the Prince escape either."

You are underground, and you have already been caught without so much as slitting a single throat. And you are faced with a bloody vampire. What do you do?

OOC
 
The next ST post will be Tuesday, April 29th at 5:00 PM.

Please feel free to ask any questions about the layout of the encampment if you intend to slip past and try to make a run for the hostages. Also feel free to use the OOC to discuss strategy or converse with NPCs or each other.

Be advised that the Al'shari you face are strong fodder; remember that you can determine outcomes so long as you remember that they are a threat to your characters and treat them accordingly.

The werewolves and the vampire are veteran enemies. You cannot determine outcomes of attacks; for all intents and purposes, these three NPCs are to be treated as PCs.
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