Prepare for the #LodanRespawn2024 Existing characters may choose to be displace from/have memories of different timelines, thereby allowing returning members the option to retcon their whole character. These changes are the result of the "Unnatural Fog" plot device that is running between now and the Respawn. The plot is simple: no matter where your character is, that place is shrouded in a thick fog that suspends time, but not thoughts or memories, so even if they're repeating the same day over and over again, they continue to remember, so each time feels like a new day. For those retconning OCs; this is where new versions of themselves have the opportunity to replace the old versions. Official lore and tree updates will be announced asap
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Nov 12, 2015 1:42:41 GMT
OPEN TO ALL BOR Her next course of action after what happened at the Harrowing... and no, she wasn't referring to her love life, though she'd have to face that yet again, was to summon all her guildmates not currently adrift and have them meet her at the sky harbor. She paced back and forth on the IRONDREAD, as more and more people climbed the gangplank and shuffled into the crowd forming on the weather deck. There were so many and yet... there were still plenty yet to come. She glanced up at the sky. Sunset was approaching, so too should be the rest of her guild then. A shiver of autumn air rose goosebumps on her flesh. It was chilly out, especially at this elevation. She pulled out her sword to look at it... saw that it was clean without a smudge left to scrub out, so she sheathed it again and resumed pacing.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
The blue haired girl ducked against a nearby wall, panting slightly as she pressed her body as tight against the brickwork as she could. "Lady Storm?" came the ever-growing familiar cry from Linda, who by now was getting just a mite bit testy with her mistress. "Lady Storm, your grand-father expressly said for-" she said when another round of mortar fire sounded nearby, causing the maid to wilt a little. Ikuze sighed before shaking her head and showing herself to the frantic maid. Linda let out a sigh of relief. "There you are, now come along milady, your grand-father's worried sick about you." she said. The blue haired girl shook her head. "I've got a private gig to attend to first, and then I'll come straight back home alright?" she half-asked, half-ordered her maid, the feline grumbling under her breath as she eyed the guitar strapped to the girl's back. "If it makes it any better, you could just tell grand-father I told you to go back without me..." Ikuze offered, Linda sighing before leaving. "Your grand-father does worry miss... don't take too long, or he'll be likely to send the EIRAL's out after you." called the maid.
Ikuze continued on her way to the Sky Harbour, taking the Thieves Highway as far as she could before ascending the hill to the waiting ship. Rubbing the back of her head made her way towards Caitlin. "Sorry if I'm late... I swear, if he could afford it, I'd probably have armed guards at my door and windows to try and keep me in... bloody Svedes have got Grandfather in a right state." she sighed. "Guessing your patriarch ain't faring much better?" inquired the blue haired thief of her counterpart and boss.
Last Edit: Nov 12, 2015 2:06:50 GMT by Ikuze Storm
The walk back to the ship had been in silence, which made the explosions all the more jarring when they happened. It hadn't been the time to talk about personal issues. The part of him that wanted to know the answer to her question was still there, burning in the back of his head, but he kept it away from the forefront of his thoughts. Right now was about protecting Lodan. What could he do, how could he help.
Now, he waited patiently, his mind turning over strategies. Attacks and counterattacks, but no matter what he considered, the truth was, EIRAL was doomed without the Anders help. Without the help from all the guilds. He was sure Caitlin knew that truth as well. So, he stood silently, off to the side, avoiding any interaction from Levi, as he waited to see what the Queen of Rogues was planning.
it has been another day for Rava ... or it would have been if Caitlin didn't call everyone in , as the sky lift ascended, she kept looking her her finger with the ring on it , worried for Mulven if he would be ok . it had been some time since Rava was this high up from the ground as the lift made it to it the dock in the sky .
making her way to the IRONDREAD and climbed onto it "hay am here , what is the problem" she asked as she looked around , she noticed a man with an eye patch , he looked famillar but could not put her finger on it "umm , when did we get another eye patch person on our guild? " Rava asked as she moved to Caitlin, there was a lot she wanted to ask her , but by the way Caitlin looked at the moment , Rava got the feeling it was going to be a long ..long ..long day for her.
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on Nov 12, 2015 17:37:29 GMT
Thrakazog was scared.
His fright came from many factors, and not any one thing, but it all bunched up and made him feel a knot in the pit of his ample stomach, a shiver down his sizable spine, and a tremble in knees that supported a significant amount of weight already.
The flight from the Harrowing had been awful enough. He and Lorraine had escaped from the event under mortar fire, falling debris, and screaming party-goers. He'd half-carried her, and half been led by her hand, for she had been much more confident than he, though she required his size to get them past an obstacle here and there. When she'd got him back to the Dauntless, she'd left to attend her own matters, and he had been left to cringe and start beneath a blanket in his bunk. The mortar fire never stopped, but came in sporadic bursts like thunder. Every time he thought it was over, a new explosion had him jumping in his skin, wondering if the Dauntless was to be the target of the next attack. But with nowhere else to go, he could only listen and wait. He finally nodded off to sleep from pure exhaustion at some point the next morning, though it was a fitful rest.
That afternoon hadn't fared much better, though to be fair, the Dauntless never took a direct hit. Going to work, however, was out of the question, and the entire crew was on lockdown, waiting for further orders. Thrakazog kept thinking of Lorraine, hoping she was all right, and then he thought of some of the people he'd just met - the witch, the nixie, the man in the pot-bellied stove. Were they okay? And even if they were, would any of them EVER be okay? When would the mortar-fire stop? Didn't the Queen have some kind of army to handle situations like this?
Late in the afternoon, an order finally came through. The Dauntless' First Mate delivered it, informing any and and all crew to head to the Irondread - whatever that was. A series of murmurs and whispers sprang up as that news was absorbed, but none of it really made sense to Thrakazog - something about another port, but nothing concrete about where or what that was. The First Mate barked for them to 'snap to it', and the crowd of sailors broke up - each heading to their bunks to grab rucksacks and weapons if they owned them. Thrak didn't have any weapons, but he grabbed his tool box and a small sack with some bread and cheese, and then he hustled to join all the others as they left the Dauntless and headed towards the city proper.
The damage from the mortar fire was evident on almost every street. Some locations were worse than others, with burning buildings that had to be circumvented. But others were less affected, where a mortar only impacted with the street or some abandoned structure. Still - the city was in an uproar, with citizens either holed up in homes, or on their way to shelters. And bucket-brigades fought fiercely when fires threatened more important facilities. Smoke filled the evening air, making Thrakazog think that the Dauntless was a better place to be, but despite his inclinations to turn tail and run back there, he stayed with the crew, reminding himself, 'What would Lorri do?' to help him combat his own fears. In his mind, she was still leading him forward by the hand, and he took some comfort in that.
Eventually, they got to a hill, right around sunset, and then they began climbing onto a square slab of wood - a sort of platform - surrounded by thick, heavy ropes, and cogs of machinery. A couple of the more seasoned sailors were griping about a different platform - one that was much smaller, apparently, given their description of it - and they seemed grateful they were riding the 'cargo lift' instead of that one. Thrakazog looked up to see where the ropes went, but the dense smoke in the air obscured them beyond sixty feet or so. That was probably just as well, for if he knew what was about to happen, he probably would have jumped off as quickly as he could.
His fellow crewmen got onto the platform and ushered him towards the center, one of them commenting about helping to 'balance' the thing by not having too heavy a weight on one side. And then the gears started to turn, and the platform began to rise into the air, giving that knot in Thrakazog's stomach a none-too-gentle nudge. It rose up, and up, disappearing into the smoke. Some crew coughed as they breathed the thick air, while others looked about nervously. It was surreal, in a way, to peer over the side and not be able to see either ground or sky. And then, after a while, the platform came to a halt, and they all disembarked onto what looked like a gangplank, leading to the deck of a... ship?
Thrakazog followed along, puzzled at first, but then he realized it was indeed a boat. But how was it in the air?! Curiosity gave way to realization as he figured out it was an airship - he'd seen them from a distance, floating over Lodan every now and then, but he'd never seen one up close, and certainly never, ever, been on one.
He then realized he was standing on the deck with the rest of the crowd, looking up at the command deck where Captain Caitlin paced. Her presence and serious face did nothing to assuage his fear.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Nov 17, 2015 4:15:21 GMT
Caitlin didn't quit pacing until the nefarious guitar picking sticky fingers cantered up to the helm next to her, Juniper and Harold. "Sorry if I'm late... I swear, if he could afford it, I'd probably have armed guards at my door and windows to try and keep me in... bloody Svedes have got Grandfather in a right state." Ikuze sighed. "Guessing your patriarch ain't faring much better?
"Hay am here, what is the problem?" Rava sided up to and asked as she looked around. "Umm, when did we get another eye patch person on our guild?"
She didn't know how to answer either of them. Such trivial questions, and yet such loaded answers. The last of which caused Caitlin's eyes to swing to the gathering before them. So he came. "Commander Skye," Caitlin half whispered in answer to Rava's question. "We got another the day we pulled him out of jail, and they shot him in the head for escaping." She cleared her throat and turned her gaze back to Ikuze. "And thank you for reminding me. I have a special mission in mind that just so happens to involve the patriarch. I might require your assistance, something to discuss a little later. A job for a new recruit perhaps, but one I want supervised since it's... so close to home." She waited for Ikuze to respond before looking back out at the massive crowd again.
Wow. So many people. So many she hadn't seen in a very long time. She didn't remember initiating this many rogues. She didn't realize how many were under her command. It made her feel small... small but mighty. She drew a deep breath. Flos Lychnis stood by Ruth Orphelin , and there was Sarah Amelie next to Clarette Garland and Patroclus O'Neill . The healer Isaac Verindane stood by quietly while the others murmured about what they thought this was all about. Mad Rook Madiggan came too, another noble moonlighting in the brotherhood. Never far from his side, despite claiming to loath one another stood Alexandra Kaylock . Newer members of the guild such as Pyre and Ruffio had somehow made it to the front end of the group. Speaking of new, where was Floyd Swidger and Emily Grace ? Where was Uriah Han and the infamous Sybille Hogarth ? She kept searching the sea of faces till she saw Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson . Expantantly she looked around nearby him for Lorraine Blackmoore but the woman was no where to be seen. Caitlin frowned. That couldn't be a good sign. Had the woman survived the Queens Masquerade? Had there been any casualties since last night? Was she one of them? Was Levi Küper ? Caitlin looked over and over again, but so far she hadn't spotted Levi Küper, and she didn't want to start without him.... it would feel too much like betrayal, to turn him out from the guild as well as her heart. She waited, hoping to find him there.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Pyre looked at Caitlin he was unsure if the look on her face meant, it all happened so quickly rather like the thoughts he imagined must be going through her head. He parted from the group to look over the edge the explosion when they happened brought back memories of events since past one he thought that had left him each one making it that tiny bit clearer in his head. Fire it just had to be explosions and fire didn't it.
“Well so much for a peaceful party to lower tension in the town.” He let out a long drawn sigh before closing his eyes, and just listened to the destruction and fear all around.
"And thank you for reminding me. I have a special missing in mind that just so happens to involve the patriarch. I might require your assistance, something to discuss a little later. A job for a new recruit perhaps, but one I want supervised since it's... so close to home." Ikuze blinked at Caitlin's words, her mind already trying to figure out what the Queen of Rogues could possibly have in store for her father... one possibility sprung to mind, which would be somewhat ironic given the noble woman's past endeavours. The blue haired thief smirked and nodded. "Gotcha. First though we got to get this lot rounded up." she said, looking out across the gathering ensemble that was the Brotherhood. Now would be a really bad time for the EIRAL's to make an appearance, and any other time she would have definitely held concern about that... but the military were probably more than likely quite busy with the Sveden forces.
Rava didn't hear the name Cait whispered fully but what happened to the man was clear as day "well i know that feeling " Rava smiled pointing to her eye but her smile was hiding her through of why the man looked familler. never the less she watched as Cait and Ikuze talked their leader talk, Rava looked over everyone gathered, the feeling of war that could destroy the city gave Rava a bad feeling, she know if this was some sort of retreat , she would have to get Mulven out too as well as some of her stuff.
Dice had followed Rava onto the the ship and had ran up to her , he was a lot bigger now as he barked and sat next to her, dressed with a leather collar he looked wanted to come along with Rava instead of staying in the city with all the bangs or hid under the bed in the salty dog.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Dec 4, 2015 15:08:55 GMT
"It's time," Harold leaned over and said to the baroness. She stopped her pacing and nodded. Yes. So it was. She looked out at the sea of faces, a few more had managed to arrive, others still might show up late but she couldn't delay it any longer. Not without her crowd drawing the attention of another, more uniformed crowd. One she didn't need dropping in on the BOR HQ.
"You've probably already realized this but, I'll say it anyway. Lodan is at war." Her voice rang out and the chatter died down. Hundreds of eyes turned up to her, watching her, listening, waiting. It was a strange sensation, so many minds churning, eyes burning, and they all were focused on her. A shiver raced up her spine and spread tingly jitters dancing up her neck and over her skull.
"They're bombing us from the borderlands now, but make no mistake, they'll be boxing us in from the shoreline both in the sea and sky. We're trapped here. They intend to clip our wings and toy with us like rats in a cage." She paused for commentary from the masses, a murmur of voices, a buzz of thoughts voiced under their breaths. She glanced over specifically at Rava. She nodded in homage to the girl, for what she was about to say. When her eyes turned back to the crowd, they were red rimmed, ready to cry but having no tears left to shed. They were dry and itchy and wide awake, and her face was solemn.
"Well I take issue with that!" She shouted out. Her fist squeezed around the pommel of her sword. "Not only as a citizen of Lodan, a valuable city, a valuable capital to a country that is unmatched in its richness. A country that is both leagues above others in technology and the arts! A country, perhaps the only country, that Sveden sees as a threat to their own greatness. No. I take offense not just as a citizen...."
She was pacing again, unsure of when it started but she walked the lines between her crewmates, she made eye contact with as many as would meet her gaze as she spoke.
"I take offense as a pirate, if Lodan can't chain me, no other nation has the right to. And if they think they've got our countrymen, our families, ourselves bowed down in our estates, keeping our heads low, then they are mistaken. And they do not know just how mistaken.... but someone here does."
Her angry eyes scanned the brotherhood, her voice lowered, hoarse, raw, angry and honest. And bitter. So darkly bitter.
"Who remembers what happened to the last nation that dare try to clip our wings?" Her murderess eyes came at last to rest again on the crewmates she'd left up by the helm as she made her way across the deck and through the ranks. Her gaze landed on Rava and Ikuze, boring holes into the two with the answer. One of which was the only living member of that nation left to testify.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on Dec 4, 2015 17:34:40 GMT
The general murmuring of the masses went on for a while as more and more people arrived from the lift. Thrakazog took it all in, listening to those around him. There was talk of war, talk of action. There was consideration of flight - fleeing the city until the military could make Lodan safe for them. A couple of particularly ambitious fellows even discussed how easy it would be to steal goods from the city under fire - essentially looting and pillaging while everyone was distracted with the enemies. Thrakazog didn't like that talk, but he was a relative stranger to this bunch - too new and too scared to speak up and tell someone he didn't like their ideas. And he certainly couldn't propose better ones.
But then the Captain began to talk, and in waves, those gathered on deck silenced themselves to hear what she had to say. She began by stating, quite simply, that Lodan was at war. The statement sent a shiver up Thrakazog's spine. The Civil War from three years earlier had taken his father while Thrak had been at sea on a shipping vessel. He'd only learned of his dad's passing upon his return to port, and by then, the war was over.
He didn't really know what war meant. He knew it wasn't good - being at war. People fought, and people died. He suspected that good people, like his new friend Lorraine, in the military had to fight for one reason or another. But aside from the terrible trip Thrakazog had experienced when he first joined Caitlin's crew, he didn't really know fighting... blood... death. He only knew those things scared him.
Had he been more reflective, he might have noticed other people around him were also scared. Some of them knew what war meant too, which would only have been scarier for him. No, he decided... this was not good.
She went on to talk about the enemy, and how they were going to clip wings. Thrakazog didn't quite get that analogy. Again, it sounded bad, but his mind took it too literally. "Me nub got wings," he thought to himself, not realizing some of his fellow listeners might.
But what really got his attention was when Caitlin announced that she was offended not only as a citizen, but as a pirate. It didn't matter much what she said after that, because Thrakazog realized, perhaps for the first time, that he was a pirate too. Certainly, he knew she was the infamous 'Pirate Queen', the 'Queen of Rogues'. But he never quite made the mental connection that those people he sailed with were anything other than crew members. He never saw them as 'pirates', but sailors instead. Was that what his father had wanted for him - to be a pirate? Was he supposed to rape and pillage people now? Was he supposed to drink too much rum and bury treasure somewhere?
He was so stunned, he dropped his toolbox when Caitlin said, "... but someone here does."
It landed with a crash on another sailor's foot, causing them to yelp and curse. Startled, Thrakazog bent over, apologized and picked up the dropped container. "Sorree... sorry!" He groaned, feeling embarrassed because he was possibly interrupting the Captain's address. But if she noticed, she said nothing about it. Instead, she asked who remembered the last nation to 'clip our wings'.
He was going to answer with something typically clever for him, but she was glaring at someone so fiercely that Thrakazog thought it better not to draw even more attention to himself.
Post by Lorraine Blackmoore on Dec 5, 2015 20:52:58 GMT
After the sirens erupted in the sky and sent the crowd in an uproar at the Harrowing, Lorraine had made her escape with Thrakazog though they had parted ways some time shortly after. She had not seen the friendly giant between then and now but as she stood in among the crowd she could hardly miss his towering form. She had half a mind to squeeze her way through the crowd and usher her way to his side but for now she refrained. Word hadn't been given to her directly, no but when she had made her way back to the docks the whispers had been there and so with her hood drawn over her head and concealing most of her face she had joined in with the others and kept to the back. There was not much for her to say or do other than watch and listen, and as she did, the woman who commanded the attention of so many inspired something within her. This is who she would have wished to be in her life. Never before had she thought that someone such as Caitlin Cockfoster could command such respect and carry such fierce fire in her as she did--a true heroine a child would have read about in their stories growing up. The pirate queen's words sunk deep and it was at the end of her speech that she truly grew to appreciate this woman. Sveden would pay--EIRAL or not, Lorraine vowed to protect the people of this country and that included pirates.
The sound of metal jumbling around and crashing broke her fixed attention on the Captain and drew her eyes to Thrakazog whom she now felt sorry for. He was a kind soul and their task today and forever on would not be so. As she pushed back the hood from her head, she shouldered her way through the crowd though she did so with calm and care. Within a matter of moments she was by the giant's side between him and the sailor he had dropped the container on, and extended a hand to place on the large man's bicep, giving him a wordless nod of greeting before looking to Caitlin once more.
Rava watched as Caitlin started her speech to the other craw members that where below on the ship. it looked like she was going to war with the other nation that , it was only when she started to take about someone who had mistaken that the army attacking lodan will not win , before looking towards Both herself and Ikuze "oh...ohhhhhh...yeah .. i remember .... it was not a great moment in life .. y yeah..." it was then the unwanted memory of when Rava was 1st drafted into BOR after she was abandon and left to die in lodan when she tied to steal gold from Caitlin but failing.
that day was filled with so much death, with none of it on Rava's hands but she remembered on that day as she carried her old friend out of the fortress of the bandits that Caitlin had slayed all of the ones who did not get away. and over the years she had other ships raided of the escape ship that where found at sea. however the flagship was still at large and her child was still in the hands of the Green Stag Beetle bandits.
Rava cleared her throat before speaking in her tongue a few words before saying out " ese día fue sangriento ... pero lo que me salvó ... Thank you .... I remember too well ... that day , when the snow fell , when I Became a part of the BOR. the time when we ended the Monarchy of Bandits that ruled over Ca-a'lla ... I lost my son to them ..... but gain a family and a free life ...."
Dice howled as he wagged his tail , it all sounded exciting as he waited.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Dec 6, 2015 19:14:22 GMT
Rava wasn't wrong... Caitlin's eyes were dull, lifeless, unfeeling as she too remembered the battle and bloodshed. She owned her own guilt, but saw her actions as a necessity, a mercy to anyone who would have fallen victim to the opposition had she not cleaned the slate. She nodded to Rava's reply and turned her eyes to Ikuze to see if she too had connected the dots.
---------------------------FLASHBACK--------------------------- "The Green Stag Beetles sent me an invitation, and we RSVP'd so we can't let them down! So go in there in a blaze of glory, and don't - hold - anything - back!!!!" She screamed so loud she could feel her lunges squeeze for air and the slender vein pop n her throat. She sucked in a breath and grinned as everyone around her cheered and pounded their weapons against the deck and against each other. Cait jumped up on the railing and seized a rope in her hands. Below them was a stone fortress, the same one that they had discussed in her cabin when drafting a plan. The others followed in her image and started scaling the ship and swinging from its haul in great leaps. Caitlin threaded her rope through the hand guard of her sword and gripped the metal as she slid down, protecting her hands from rope burn and getting a smooth, quick decent in the process.
It was meant as a rouse to distract the Green Stage Beetle Bandits from above their fortress so the sticky fingers could sneak in and flex their skills. But it was more than just a cover up. It was also revenge, and she made sure her shipmates knew they would take no hostages. Before Rava or Ikuze had a chance to get caught infiltrating the fortress, the BoR pirates rained down from the sky, some dropping grenades, some firing guns and rifles while others spewed magic during their decent. Caitlin reserved her own powers for later. She had her sword out and gave a satisfying battle cry as she neared her landing. Blades were raised up to meet her but she simply drew up a platform six inches above their reach and rolled off of it, letting the majority of her fall break on that invisible barrier before the rest of her momentum sunk into her knees and ankles on the real ground. It still hurt but she ignored the pain, nothing broken. "HAAA!" she shouted as her blade thrust and ZINGGggged against the first adversary she found. It click click sucked as it deflected metal and cut into flesh. She was back in the war, her mind a blank, her body on autopilot and she was no longer a lady... not now, now she was a machine, and she was deadly without conscious.
Caitlin didn't realize at first anyone was talking to her, not until there was a blade in his hand and it was aimed at her. "tell me before we begin, Rava? is she still alive? if so I am surprised that was my worst stitching.." That was all she needed to hear to know this man would be her most satisfying target of the night. He was the butcher who savagely cut Rava open and stole her child from the womb. He was the beast that left her to die on Lodan's shores, while his clansmen sent the BoR's a little note condemning Rava for being one of them in the first place. Caitlin's mind turned to dark thoughts, her sword arm burned with anticipation as she circled the man. Her men were rounding up the last eleven, taking no prisoners as per her instructions earlier. None of the men foolish enough to rise to their challenge would be left alive. It was about the message, and the message was - don't send your refuse to our shores to bleed all over our docks... because you WILL die for the offense "You must lack creativity, doctor," she slurred the word, and eyed the way he carried his blade. It was a heavier kind, and she could see the way it sagged in his old hands. "Those stitches were bad but I assure you, I can do much - MUCH - worse, allow me to demonstrate," She Struck! Caitlin came in sharp and flat, not swinging wide but cutting in from the center out. His blade was as slow as she expected it to be, but she wasn't looking for a one-blow kill... she wanted to leave him in shreds, so many shreds that even the best stitching couldn't put him back together let alone the worst. Caitlin didn't listen to the final gurgle of words that spewed from the doctors mouth. She wouldn't dignify him by hearing his last breath. He didn't deserve it.
She turned back to her men and the left-overs they rounded up. A few followed her orders, cutting to the quick and laying waste to 6 of the 11 would-be surrenders. Caitlin stalked up to the cowards with her brows low over her angry eyes. Blood splattered her skin and clothing in heavy patterns, a clue to just how many bodies were bled by her own hands. She didn't stop walking when she reached them, she didn't explain herself a second time. She just pulled her elbow back, then swung forward and up like a music conductor - using the length of her blade to split a man vertically up the front. The final four jumped and backed away from her, running into the hard and unsympathetic chests of her men. She picked one out, and once again, wordlessly struck. The blade went in at the neck, blood trickling down its metal plane for a few seconds before she pulled it out and watched with dead eyes as the body sank to the ground.
Still silence... silence except for the hyperventilating to her right. Her gaze cut to see who. The individual, so very similar in appearance to Rava herself, started shouting "No" and clawing at the pirates blocking his exit. He begged, again and again, "don't, please dont..." and his voice was loud in the empty courtyard. The other rogues from her air assault made their way over to see what was happening. "PLEASE!!!!!!!" He screamed in terror when her muscles coiled and her hand struck quick and true. He crumpled to the ground and said no more.
Now there were two left, and every one was watching. Caitlin slowed down, not out of hesitation, but out of exhaustion. Her mind was heavy from mixing the past and the present together in one battle. The war, and the mission... Her eyes sunk low on the next victim, sizing him up, wondering if he were truly guilty or not. His hands were slicked with oil. He'd been on the parapet pouring the flammable fluid down on melee fighters. Weighed. Measured. Found guilty. "This is for Rava," She said, barely raising her voice loud enough to be heard. She put her blade, (blood and all) back in its scabbard and lifted her hands. He eyed her wearily, questioning the sign of surrender, and he should. She wasn't surrendering, she was reaching forward with her open palm so she could get close enough to strike a match. Her hands were overly warm when she snapped her fingers and a tiny spark jumped an inch from her fingertips to the fumes an inch from his oilly pair. (Pyro I) The spark followed the gases back to their liquid component and a flame caught and spread from it. The man shouted in horror and threw himself on the ground - rolling around and trying to put his hands out in the dirt. The oil rubbed off of his hands in small streaks, but then he rolled over those streaks, lighting his clothing on fire next. She shook her head but did not comment on it.
The one and only remaining Green Stag Beetle was on her knees at this point, sobbing to herself as a fiery death claimed the previous man. Caitlin turned to face her. She stared at the woman blankly. There was no sympathy in her face, but she kept her feet planted where they were. A jostle came from the BoR crowd and Juniper pushed his way to the center. He stared for a moment at Caitlin, a stillness passing between them, then he busied himself with snatching a knife from one of the other pirates. He stormed over to the kneeling woman. She turned her tear streaked face up to the man and choked on the words that might have been a plea for mercy. He didn't give her time to work it out. "Shh, shh shh shh," He said as he knelt behind her, covering her eyes with his empty hand while dragging the blade across her throat with the other. Seconds later he tugged her gently backwards and laid her still body on the ground with ease.
Having completed their clandestine mission which the aerial assault was meant to distract from; Ikuze led Rava and their refugee back to Caitlin. "Baroness, may I present to you quite possibly the only person in this entire drat place with a brain and a soul, Mister Duncan. Who apparently did such a good job reading out of this handy dandy Ca'allan instruction manual that the big boss here poisoned him so nobody else could use it." she said. "Oh and bonus. We got a pair of prophetic daggers for the one true king of the Green Stags, and this Codex has a ton of coded maps that could maybe lead to wherever Rava's kids being held at by the womb-slitting locals, who's big boss at the moment seems to have pissed off with his tail between his legs from the look of things."
Caitlin listened to all of it, her face a blank slate. Rava hoisted the old man as Ikuze gave them the run down. Finally, after starring at the trio for a beat, she wiped the blood from her face and spat on the ground. "Worthless," Cait decided, her eyes now on the prophetic daggers. "Green Stag Beetle King? There's no such thing." Her voice was stern, dripping with dispisal. The maps and Codex might be of use, if only for the sake of returning to Rava what was taken from her body. After that....
"Everyone back on board. We'll give Duncan to the Fulke medics, let them see if they can do anything about that pesky posion." That was it. She turned and led the way back to the ropes. Not everyone who came off the boat would be returning to it of their own free will. The dead would have to be carried back up - most of which was done by the winged anders. Far fewer of theirs fell though by comparison. The Brotherhood of Rogues victory was a landslide. As it should be.
"Oh and Rava...." Caitlin glanced over her shoulder, for just a second more. "Welcome to the brotherhood."
Their trials weren't usually this messy, or costly, but when it came to facing down her opposition - the Queen would always go all in, and make sure it was they who came back out. ---------------------------AT PRESENT--------------------------- Caitlin turned back to the crowd and lifted her chin. "The Sveds deserve no less. We will send them to hell. And they will thank us for the journey before we're through with them."
not bad for condensing an 11 page trail down to one post
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on Dec 6, 2015 23:55:24 GMT
A gentle touch on his arm caused Thrakazog to startle and look quickly back, but instead of a threat, he only saw relief in the form of, "Lorri!" He cried out, perhaps a little more loudly than intended, as he fought the urge to hug her.
She was alive! After the harrowing flight from the ball, after the night of mortar-fire, and then the trip up here to a flying ship, here she was, looking relatively hale and healthy. SHE knew how to handle these kinds of situations (or at least, that's what he thought)! She'd been a soldier, she'd told him, and quite surprisingly, amid the whole chaotic mess of things, he felt relieved that she was here.
More quietly, he attempted, "Ug dere, Lorri! Youz is okie dokie, yub?"
But then, the Captain was speaking again, "The Sveds deserve no less. We will send them to hell. And they will thank us for the journey before we're through with them."
That sounded bad, and Thrakazog was scared. Only now, he was a lot less so.
He stood back up straight and tried to listen for whatever came next.
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