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The Roof, The Roof, The Roof is on Fire [P]; Private - The (Not) Cultist
Topic Started: Fri Nov 24, 2017 2:39 am (103 Views)
BiggerSword
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Malam sighed as he put on his old jacket, it was another rough day ahead. His usual clothes were meant more for the backswamps, thick shirts and coats, fur lined pants, but in the main city... it wasn't as necessary. He wore his old red jacket over a brown shirt, his pants were brown, a little old looking with a few patches here and there, his black boots were new though, he had been forced to buy a new pair after a six-eyed alligator ripped off one of his boots when it tried to eat him. The thing that he thought brought it all together though... was the Nodachi on his back, a two handed katana that stretched down the majority of his form, the sheath almost scraping the ground.

He had been hired a few times by the local guards, they hired mercenaries to help bolster their forces, over the last few days a good chunk of the guard had been hunting a new criminal, an arsonist. He only appeared once before the first fire a week ago, he had claimed to be here to purge this city of it's shadows and unbelievers, saying that the city of lanterns would become the city of divine fire, typical religious psychopath arsonist talk.

Malam this time thought he could get another day of guard duty, get a jump start on the next payment. He left the inn he was staying at only to hear the arguing of a couple of mercenaries. He heard them talking about how the guard wasn't hiring anymore... but they had released a bounty poster for the arsonist. This struck Malam with two thoughts, the first being 'damn it, missed out on an easy day's pay' while the other thought immediately after it was, 'Hot damn! Lets make some money!'

He left the inn, it wasn't hard to find a wanted poster, they were plastered all over the walls of the buildings, their details weren't that good. He read it aloud to himself, "Wanted, Serial Arsonist, goes by the name Father Ignan, believed to be a very powerful fire mage or a skilled alchemist. He is wanted Dead or Alive, Dead is only five hundred notes. Alive, one thousand five hundred notes." Malam grinned, he preferred to deliver the corpse rather than try and drag some hot headed psychopath to the guards, plus five hundred notes was more than he made in any one job. He figured there would be other mercenaries running around, searching for him, he figured there was an easier way than rushing around looking for clues, it was simple, the man set a building on fire every other day, he just needed to look for smoke and case the area.

He grinned, "Lets get to hunting."
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Frostbite
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Frostbite had converted her tiny living space into a proper flat, or something close to it. At the Balefire office of the international relief organization Across Borders, they didn't have much living space, and she'd been honored to simply get a room to herself. Curled up in her cot and a large number of blankets, she reviewed her mail.

Most of them were letters from survivors she'd worked with in the past. Frostbite smiled as she read their inspiring stories about coping with lifelong injuries or illnesses as a result of their experiences. She filed each away in their proper spot, meaning to write back as promptly as possible. Survivors were very valuable to the organization.

She'd set aside one letter in the stack. It was sealed with a wax seal depicting a moth. That was the one she read last. The letterhead was that familiar ink drawing of a moth with tattered wings: the symbol of Frostbite's distant superior and case handler.

Stop the fires. Capture Father Ignan and
bring him to the organization. Do not kill him.
Do not allow others to kill him. Do not turn him in
to the authorities. Do not allow others to do the same.
Take any measure necessary.

The Moth was always very curt in her letters, but this one at least provided the details Frostbite needed -- and she already had the context. Father Ignan was a noted serial arsonist who'd been terrorizing Balefire recently. Across Borders had been deploying nonstop to respond to each magically or alchemically created fire. Frostbite herself had just returned the other day from a particularly nasty one, having only been able to save a single child from the blaze. Rather than turn the kid over to one of Balefire's infamous orphanages, Across Borders adopted him into their foster network. He'd be on a scorchliner to Cascadia as soon as he was discharged from the hospital, assuming he'd survive the burns and lung damage.

The letter from the Moth was proof that Frostbite would be thinking about nothing but this case until what's done is done. She sighed, setting the letter on the floor beside her cot and rolling over in bed. She'd need as much sleep as possible to make it through this mission.



Wearing full rescuer kit, Frostbite stood at the foot of an enormous residential fire. She only had a moment to take in the sheer enormity of what they were dealing with. The fire brigade had arrived a little bit earlier than Across Borders, and everyone's hands were tied until they could get the thermal mages and water mage set up. Frostbite trembled with anger, feeling useless.

She looked over to a man who had just arrived, one with a huge sword slung over his back. "Are you a resident? You need to evacuate. There's nothing left in there for you, and nothing worth trying to go back in and get."

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BiggerSword
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Malam looked up at the fire and cursed his luck, he had hoped the psycho would give a sermon while the place burned, but no such luck. He had seen the smoke from afar but had hoped it wasn't terrible... but it was pretty bad. The building that was burning was a home... well, a home for multiple people. He knew it was one of those apartment buildings deal, or townhouses, or whatever it was supposed to be, it wasn't terrible big, probably family run with families living inside it. He looked at the people that had made it outside, one woman was frantically calling for help, saying her child was still in there somewhere.

He turned his head when a young lady spoke to him, she told him there was effectively nothing he could do here. He tapped his foot, the woman's cries for someone to save her child made him feel more impatient, "I'm a mercenary. I was hoping to find some clues about the damn arsonist. Gotta make a buck somehow." He walked past the woman as he continued to talk, "I'm Malam."

He walked up to one of the water mages and took up his short cape, "Water it down." The mage looked confused and refused, saying that he needed to save his magic for the fire.

Malam glared up at him, "She has a kid in there asshole. I'm just some nameless merc, I won't be missed and it won't take all of your mana to wet the damn cloak." The mage complied when Malam reached into his pocket, pulling out a few notes. The mage took a few notes and Malam wrapped the short cape around his mouth.

He looked back at the woman and heard a scream from inside the building, it was up near the top. A jet of flames shot out from the building, forming into an illusionary image of the mad priest. He spoke of the downfall of Balefire and fires of purification. Malam's eyes hardened as he roared out, "You're just killing for killing's sake!" With that he rushed the building, drawing his blade as it transformed into a scythe. He jumped up, hooking part of the balcony, his scythe tip digging in deep. He began to climb up it, leaving his scythe there as he kicked in door to the balcony, he was gonna save that kid and then get some damn answers... hopefully.
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Frostbite
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"Gotta make a buck somehow." Frostbite wished she was wearing her breather mask, since it would have hidden the nearly imperceptible change in her expression when the mercenary said that. She remembered the Moth's strict language: do not allow anyone to turn the arsonist in to the authorities. Competing with bounty hunters was going to be her life now. Frostbite resented the Moth for continuously putting her on jobs she wasn't equipped for. It's too early to dismiss this man, though. I might be able to use him somehow. Sounds like he can be bought, at least, she reminded herself.

But then, reacting to cries from a woman about her child -- ones that Frostbite herself was able to compartmentalize pretty easily due to experience -- the mercenary charged into the blaze, using a mechanik scythe to lever himself up. Frostbite felt her eyes almost bulge out of their sockets. "What the hell are you doing?!" she roared, instinctively moving after him. "They're gonna blast this whole thing with water and ice! It's unstable as it is! You have to get out of there!"

Despite her words, her feet weren't stopping. Some part of her believed that the mercenary was a blithering idiot. Another part, the one that turned her fast walk into a run, was secretly relieved that someone had given her an excuse to move on behalf of the trapped kid.

Survivors were very, very valuable to the organization. But beyond that, Frostbite couldn't tolerate standing around and letting a kid die.

Slipping on her breather mask over her face, she charged into the burning townhomes, a multi-floor cesspit that was already showing signs of structural damage. Without stopping she charged up the first flight of stairs, pulling out the breaching irons from the special sling on her back. The tool parted in two: a fire ax in one hand and a Geier bar in the other. She stowed the latter, allowing her to hold the ax in both hands as she hurdled over a collapsed piece of burning wreckage.

She ran and climbed and hacked her way through doors, looking for signs of the mercenary or the kid he was going after. Then, turning a corner, she spotted a passageway to a balcony. Frostbite tentatively crept out onto the structure, bending over to look down. There was the mercenary, climbing like before.

"Fool!" she shouted even as she extended a hand to help him up. At that moment, the whole thing creaked and began to lean. Frostbite nearly bit her tongue, bracing her other arm against the balcony rail white-knuckled. She didn't want to know how high up they were by now.
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BiggerSword
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He tried to scale again... only for a hand to reach down for him. He grabbed it and was helped up. He grabbed his scythe and tugged it free, turning it back into a nodachi as he closed his eyes. He spoke quickly, "Look, I'm a dad alright. I know what it's like to want to keep your kid safe without being able to do anything because bullshit stops you. I don't care if it's foolish, I'm saving that kid. You want to help, then help me find the kid!"

He made sure the damp cape covered his nose and mouth as he dove into the flame covered home. He kicked open another door and charged up a staircase blocked by some debris, instead of waiting for the other person with the axe, he took up his nodachi, turned it into a scythe and used it hook the banister above them. He pulled and stood back, tearing the damaged banister down, scattering it at his feet. He swung again, this time he felt the tip of the scythe pierce the wood. He twisted the blade and felt it pierce deeper, he climbed up the scythe's haft, ripping it out of the ground once he was up, sheathing the scythe on his back.

He offered the woman a hand to help her scale to the next floor and avoid the debris, "I'm Malam. You?"
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Frostbite
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Frostbite was running after the mercenary, but in her heavy cloth rescuer kit she was significantly slower. Air wheezed through her breathing mask, in and out at a rapid pace. Ax in hand, she prepared to tackle the obstruction -- and then wheeled to a stop, gaping under her mask at the mercenary's efforts. Even without the proper protective gear or tools, there was nothing stopping this guy.

When he held out a hand and introduced himself as Malam, the rescuer grabbed it and let him help her up. "I'm called Frostbite." Her voice was muffled by the heavy-duty mask over her face, but still audible.

A locked door stood in their way next. Frostbite stowed her ax and pulled out a heavy prying bar. The end with the adze dug into the space under the lock. Bracing herself against the pick jutting out the same end, she tore the whole thing open and gave it a kick to bring the door properly ajar. Past that was a wall of flames, unbelievably hot and difficult to breathe even with the mask.

"Hey, kid!" the rescuer roared, sweating bullets under her fire-resistant clothing. "Where are you?!"

She heard a voice shout back. The only way to it was forward, through scorching heat and toxic smoke. Frostbite gave her head a shake before diving through.
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BiggerSword
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Malam nodded, "Right, Frostbite... I thought my name was weird." He could feel the smoke getting in him, he coughed into his makeshift mask and kept on moving, his skin felt like it was on fire, but there was one thing about being a Cursed Man that was useful, he had some minor werewolf resistances combined with a human mind... but he was highly allergic to silver.

Speaking of silver... he ran after Frostbite and saw the door she was working with... it had a silver handle, he shivered despite the heat, creeping around the door after her. He followed her inside and focused on his hearing, he heard the cry for help and went in deeper, shouting out, "Come on kid! Shout some more!"

He heard another cry and rushed down a hallway, he stopped at a wall and heard the cry again.. but there was no door. He swore aloud, "Damn it. The door must be on the other side of the room." He felt anger twist his judgement and began to pound on the walls, "Don't worry kid! We'll get you out of here!" A fit of coughing came next and he grunted, "Screw this."

He began to knock on the walls, this place was probably made with sub-par materials, probably missing key parts to help keep the walls perfectly stable. A loud groan came from the building, confirming his thoughts. He felt the wet cape around his face was already mostly dry, even with his resistance boosting from his werewolf blood he wouldn't be able to survive in this place much longer. He found the place he was looking for after a few more knocks... a space in the wall that had no beams, no studs, it was structurally useless except for acting as a divider, and with the fire weakening everything around them... he figured he could break through.

He walked back and ran into the wall with his shoulder, cracking the cheap crap they used to build this place. He backed up again, throwing himself into it again, widening the gap, and then again, this time breaking into the room. He saw the kid, a little girl holding onto an old jewelry box.. dotted with silver. He groaned, "Not silver. Frostbite, I'm a Cursed Man, I can't touch silver, carry the kid, I'll keep on." He set off into a fit of coughing, he needed to get out... and soon. He started again, "I'll keep on trying not to die."
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Frostbite
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Beyond the place where Malam had pulled off an impressive maneuver, barreling through the wall like a bull, the little girl looked so small in the face of everything. In the smoke and flames, Frostbite could barely make out the bodies of other victims in the same room. The girl herself was burned pretty badly.

Having half-expected Malam to take her himself, she was surprised when he hesitated. A Cursed Man, huh? If Frostbite got out of this mess alive, she'd need to ask him what the hell that was.

It was a miracle the kid hadn't died from smoke inhalation by now. The evidence as to why was clear right away: she was some kind of human hybrid. "Come on. We'll get you out safe." Frostbite scooped her up, jewelry box and all. Barely weighed anything. "Be careful, Malam. This fire's been going on a while."

On the way down, one of the stairs that Frostbite stepped on collapsed. She quickly arrested a potential fall, but did go down the rest of the flight at a jogging pace. Her heart jumped, dumping adrenaline thanks to the near-miss. Her victim, weak from the smoke and flames, didn't even have the strength to cuddle up closer to her rescuer.

Halfway down the townhome complex, the fire brigade must have assumed that they died -- or they had no other choice but to begin hosing down the whole area. Jets of magical water and ice ripped into the structure, straining it to its limits. Thermal mages began their more complicated rituals, making the air pop and fizzle as the area's temperature was manipulated.

Now there really wasn't a reason to stop descending.

Ice crystals mingled with the stubborn magical fire. Frostbite turned to shunt a door open, but wheeled to a sudden stop as her instincts flared up. The noises ahead, supplemented by years of experience as a fire rescuer, had forced every fiber of her being to a stop. Not a moment later, the ceiling of the upper floor collapsed into an enormous mound.

The whole building swayed. Frostbite could hear her own heart pounding.

"Malam." Her tone had gone dead serious. "Take the girl. Jump a window. I'll find my own way out, somehow." Stowing the girl's jewelry box in the big pockets of her fire-resistant coat, she offered the fire victim to him. The ceiling and walls around them groaned and creaked, crackling with encroaching ice and hungry flames.
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BiggerSword
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Without a word he followed Frostbite, when she told him to get the kid out of there, he took her and rushed forward, "On it." He used his body to protect the girl as he ran down the nearest hall towards a window. He took his free hand and drew the scythe, shattering the window. He used the long haft to clear out most of the window climbed out, using the curved blade as a hook to help the two get out. He jumped and swung his scythe, shattering the window of the nearest building as he hung there by the scythe.

He grunted as he looked down... maybe another sixteen feet down, he could drop that far and still protect the kid, he might break a leg and... damn it, he couldn't afford that. There was a shout, someone saw him hanging there. A few of the firefighters ran over, bringing out a large sheet that they pulled taut beneath them. They roared for him to hurry before the building he had left collapsed. He grimaced and activated his scythe again, turning it into a nodachi. The two fell and were saved by the firefighters. One took the child from his arm and the others helped him to the medics stationed nearby.

He saw the woman rushing over and walked with the firefighter, crying tears of joy that her daughter had survived. He himself had several burn marks, parts of his skin were dry and cracked, he could smell burnt hair. He let out a stream of coughs as one of the medics tended to him, several medics went to the child. The medic near him brought up a silver device and placed it on his chest, a magical amplification device. He howled out in pain, his skin blistering and turning red.

The medic backed off as Malam spoke, "Damn it man, that shit burns! I'm a Cursed Man, just give me enough first aid to get moving again. I got a job to do."

A few recognized the term and set him apart from the others, the medics doing their best to tend to him, an air mage using magic to help give him clean oxygen. He breathed deep, his eyes searching around as he spoke, "Frostbite should be escaping that place to, she's gotta be around here." A few heard him and kept their eyes peeled for the person that had ran in after him, but Malam focused on breathing, meaning to recover as quickly as possible.
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Frostbite
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Now that she was alone in the doomed structure, Frostbite took in a relieved breath through her mask. She could do a search of the premises before its blazing demise.

The rescuer stowed everything that was in her hands and concentrated. Prayed.

God's blessing came almost too quick for her mind to handle. It was a struggle to remain a single person when broken into so many moving parts.

For many minutes, the fire brigade and other Across Borders personnel fought the fire. No sign of the other person besides Malam who'd charged inside. In the intervening time, part of the townhomes' east end crumbled to nothing but charred rubble. The rest held, for now.

Frostbite came walking out from the shadow of the fire. Although mostly unharmed, she held one hand in her arms as if to hide it. The look in her eyes was vacant, like she was seconds away from dozing off. Meeting back up with Malam and the rescuers snapped her out of her stupor, although she never revealed her hand even when questioned by a medic. "There are a few other survivors in the building. I couldn't bring them out alone. They were unconscious, trapped, or both." She found the incident commander and explained their locations as well as she could.

"How do you know any of this?" the fellow Across Borders employee asked. "You weren't gone for that long. You would've had to have been in multiple places at once in order to get this information."

Frostbite just shrugged and gave a vague answer about magic.

As teams of fresh rescuers formed to tackle the extraction of the other survivors, Frost walked back over to the little girl, her mother, and Malam. She took a seat on the curb next to them, pulling off her mask and helmet.

"It's good to be alive," she said, offering a friendly smile.


Edited by Frostbite, Fri Dec 29, 2017 2:05 am.
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BiggerSword
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Frostbite made it, she gave back the box, and mentioned that it was 'Good to be alive'. He grimaced, "If you say so Frosty."

Once he felt well enough to move, he looked up, the illusion of the preacer in the flames was still there, he pointed down at the ground... no... at Frostbite and himself.

"Those who have braved the flames and returned are purified in it's power! The woman! The Beast! The Child! You have lived through the harshest flames and will soon see things as I see things! I welcome you into my-" He was cut off as the building was hit by water and ice.

Malam's eyes widened and he looked around, his eyes frantically looking at everyone, "Gods damn it... gods damn it. He's here. He's still here and... wait, how did he know I'm part werewolf?" The only people that knew were Frostbite, the firefighters that were nearby, and the medical team.

His yes narrowed, "He's a firefighter. Everyone has been looking for some nutjob in a mask and robes, but what if it was just all an illusion from the beginning? The medics wouldn't have the knowledge to set such a fire, nobody would suspect a fireman if he was around... yearly building inspection for fire safety is normal in this town."

From hearing that the woman looked to the two, she wiped away her tears and spoke, "Actually a few days ago after the first fire we had our building inspected. We had a new inspector and he claimed the place needed a few updated features for fire safety but other than that he said we shouldn't worry."

The little girl coughed, glancing over at them, "...I saw the man writing on the walls, he told me not to tell mommy or we'd both get in trouble, and his funny drawings disappeared after he was done drawing."

Malam began to grind his teeth, "Kid, did it look like a circle with funny squiggles in it?"

The little girl nodded.

Malam turned from the little girl, a wolfish grin stretching across his face, "Runes. He was drawing runes."

He slowly stood up, he was fit enough to hunt, he didn't turn back as he said, "I'm heading to the nearest fire fighter station." They would have the paperwork on the inspectors in town, the man was likely an actual official with some arcane training, but what narrowed it down was the fact he just needed to know... which officials were trained in runic magic.
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