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
"Ok, that works for me," she smiled to both of the established leaders. She'd go where they sent her, no qualms, no personal preferences. Ok, maybe a little personal preference, she didn't know the CEAsAL members so well, so naturally she felt more comfortable sticking around her own guildmates. She gave a grateful smile to Lasair, then stepped forward in the direction their team was headed, wanting to avoid being the cause of any further delay.
They climbed up on the roof, Gladys pushed the door open to the landing and Jovena swept left to right with her rifle. There was nothing to shoot. After a few seconds to be sure, they climbed up and looked over the edge. It was a dark night. Most of the light was from the palace itself, spilling out of windows. None looked like an abandoned flare. She squinted in the darkness as she peered down.
"It should have fallen around here..." She told Gladys. Still searching below. Her eyes crossed over, then trailed back to a lump of darkness; a matte patch of nothing on the lawn. It might have been a shadow from the building itself. "I think I found something, but I'm not sure.... Take this," She passed her rifle to Gladys, "stay here and keep a look out. And whatever you do-" She made eye contact with the other woman and didn't so much as blink. "Don't. Shoot. Me."
After that was over, she climbed back onto the ladder, put her feet on both edges and slid the whole way down. When she was near enough to the ground, she jumped down the rest of the way. Preparing for the worst, she pulled two knives from her belt and approached the lump in the grass. As she got closer, she realized it wasn't a flare, or a bag, or a shadow. It was none of those things and her suspicions were confirmed when she toed the limp body dressed in all black.
Taking the gun with a steady hand, she nodded to the other soldier. "I won't," she said in a firm voice, surprised that she was able to be so sure as she spoke it. Although, it wasn't until after Jovena left that Gladys realized she should have offered her sword to the other, but it was too late now. She readied the gun on her shoulder and crouched down on the roof, pointing it downward, but away from the area Jove was inspecting. Her eyebrows rose as she saw the mound on the ground reveal itself as a body, making Gladys wonder just what they had discovered. No matter what it was, the palace wasn't going to be quiet tonight it seemed. She couldn't do much from her perch however, just watch Jovena below and wait for something else to happen, something else for her to react to.
“Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Do not bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.” ―William Faulkner
Petting Mala gently, Sayvahn tried to soothe the crouched girl, his own brows, furrowing slightly as the smile that Lasair wore. It was common, yes, but, how quaint it was for him to be able to wear it so easily to those aside from the feline. Perhaps Sayvahn should have opted for Edelweiss’ team after all. Maybe there, he would be more welcome. Yet, the time for that had passed, the teams, although fluid, set in stone by Lasair’s demand to keep MI with MI. Understandable, but, inconvenient— at least, for the blonde. Sighing, the feline approached Clariee, a hand, extended as a smile was laced upon his own lips. “Hello, I don’t think we have formerly met. My name is Sayvahn. Forever at your service miss—.” The ex-barber stated, flourishing his hand somewhat, only to catch in mid twirl, waiting for the girl’s name in order to finish the movement. After all, even when sour, Sayvahn still opted for being a gentleman. Or at least, some of one.
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Post by Clairee Donya on Jul 25, 2016 16:33:49 GMT
"Oh how do you do, I'm Clairee, Clairee Donya it's a pleasure to meet," she said with all sincerity. She had no reason to be insincere with anyone. Her role to play in the lives of others had been such a whisper of a thing that she could hardly have reason to be rude. But she did try to keep her voice down, in case any one who actually worked there overheard. Last thing she needed was her name being reported to the authorities and her papa coming down hard on her head for having joined the "enemy". Her brother would be so heartbroken.... If he ever came back from defending the front lines against the Sveds.
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on Jul 25, 2016 16:34:30 GMT
Thrakazog was a simmering stewpot of emotions. He was scared, for starters, and as he trailed along with Caitlin, there was something in her gait and posture that warned him that his fright was justified. She had a kind of intensity that he usually only experienced while working on machines, but she... she was not going to be turning any wrenches in the next several minutes.
Then she was complimenting him on his past performances, causing his heart to swell with pride. He only ever tried to please her, and now that she was voicing what he strove for, he was delighted. She thought he was a good engineer, and that he'd performed well despite his own misgivings about his first voyage with her. That day had been rather like this one, with him afraid out of his mind - and only when he'd lost that mind, did he rise to the occasion and fight well for his captain. It hadn't been a pretty fight, mind you, because mostly what he'd done was throw attackers over the rail of the ship. But still, Caitlin's compliments helped to prop up his spine for the coming encounter.
Then, in an act that Thrakazog could never have anticipated, she handed him her own sword. The Captain's sword. The thing barely looked like a dagger in Thrakazog's meaty fist, as it was crafted for Caitlin's smaller size and weight. But the effect of the loan wasn't so much a function of the sword's lethality, but rather that she was trusting him with it. Now, he was even more scared than before - but it was of failing her, rather than dying by some enemy.
Thrakazog swallowed hard and cautiously waved the weapon back and forth to test it. It reminded him a little of a belaying pin from the ships, but it was certainly sharper than those makeshift clubs, and he was careful not to accidentally prick himself with it. Whether he could effectively use it as a weapon against armed, trained opponents was another story altogether.
They were nearing the fence-like wall that surrounded the palace - them on the inside, and supposedly their allies were on the outside. But as they approached the gate, they could see people lined up on the other side. It appeared that the Sveden had ambushed the waiting rogues, and were now tying them to the gate. Their long-term purpose was anyone's guess, but in his mind, Thrakazog imagined the worst, and then tried immediately to forget those mental images before they scared him again. Fortunately, Caitlin kept them from a prolonged parley session, but the way she did it surprised everyone - Thrakazog included.
Suddenly, she ran towards the gate and Thrakazog was sure she meant to crash up against it, though he couldn't figure out why she would. But then she jumped, and everyone's expectation was that she might lift a couple of feet into the air before latching onto the gate bars and climbing up and over them. Instead, her jump took her much, much higher and further, and she cleared the tall barricade like a pole-vaulter... minus the pole. It brought Thrak up short, and open-mouthed, as she landed on the other side and began to fist-fight one of the enemy Sveden. Two of the others must have been arguing about how she couldn't do that (and then did), because they took to fisticuffs as well... with each other! The sudden melee brought Thrakazog out of his awestruck state, and he ran towards the gate, not knowing how he was going to get up and over that fence.
Fortunately, his concern was dismissed by one of the rogues who turned their head to see him coming. Hastily, the rogue half-whispered/half-yelled at Thrak, "Hey! Use that sticker there to cut these ropes!"
Thrakazog paused as the command made its way through his ears and then through his thick skull. He paused and nodded stupidly, as the request made sense, and then he moved more quickly to cut the ropes that bound the other rogues. As each of them were freed, they jumped into the fray to aid their Captain, and the Sveden quickly realized they were outnumbered.
Thrakazog had stopped though, and kept looking up at the gate, trying to figure out how he was going to get his big butt over that thing. It wasn't so high that he couldn't climb it, but he'd need both hands to do that, and he didn't dare let go of the sword Caitlin had given him to hold. Fortune smiled once more though, as the last rogue he cut loose looked at him with a cocked head. She (this one was a woman Thrakazog did not recognize) drew an incredulous look over her features, and reached an arm through the bars to point off to one side. And she hissed at him, "What are you starin' at? Just open the drat gate with that latch!"
Thrakazog's eyes followed her pointing finger and realization dawned on him. He nodded quickly and then moved over to move the large latch. The sound of iron on iron grated in the night, but with the fistfight going on, and his haste to get the gate open, Thrakazog didn't care. The woman rogue though, palmed her face and shook her head, "You need some trainin'... BAD."
But the gate swung open and the Sveden who weren't currently punching and kicking at similarly engaged rogues turned to see the mountain of a man silhouetted against the night sky. He was wearing a black cloak that hid his features, but the dagger he held in his hand certainly made him look menacing.
What thoughts might have been racing through the head of the Svede who was now staring blankly at the menacing figure of Thrak. Whatever it was, the man wasn't taking any chances. A glint of silver flashed in the dim street lighting of the palace gate, revealing the unmistakable outline of Sveden's signature firearm. Even a man like Thrak would be hard pressed to stay standing under the scatershot the weapon produced.
The man looked poised to fire at the silhouette of the giant when he suddenly crumpled under the weight of a cloaked figure. His weapon went skittering across the cobblestone, but the Svede didn't look in any state to go after it. The cloaked figure stood from the body he'd just landed on and shrugged off a large pack from his shoulders revealing the the object which at first had appeared to be a cloak was actually a large parachute. The familiar features of Faolan Skye were revealed, though his figure looked much bulkier than the last time anyone had seen him, an improvement over the skinny and sickly looking man who had been carried from the EIRAL dungeons.
Drawing his blade with the flourish of a practiced sword fighter, he gave Thrak a brief salute, "Sorry I'm late." he uttered before rushing into the fray. His path took him, logically, to Cait's side. "I've been tracking these guys for three days and you just manage to stumble into them," he chuckled as he parried a blow from one of the Svedes, the sound of metal on metal ringing out in the night. If the palace guards didn't know they were here before, they certainly did now.
Post by Jovena Barbados on Jul 25, 2016 20:41:09 GMT
The body on the ground was dead. Whoever he had been, he was no more. Which begged the question, what should they do with the body? Bury it? Identify him and drop him off home? Couldn't arrest him for trespassing at this point but --- Then the noise at the west gate erupted and she turned her attention wholly on that. "Gladys!" She barked up to the rooftop "Get down here!" Jovena figured at least now they knew who he was signaling (but what kind of idiot lit himself on fire and fell off the roof?). Whatever the purpose behind the commotion, it needed to be addressed, and they were here to do the addressing. While Gladys climbed down Jove searched the body for anything useful. A hint or clue who they were dealing with, a weapon maybe, something. But she wouldn't linger. Soon as her companion hit the lawn they needed to rush into the fray.
Edelweiss looked at the black-haired woman for a second. Hm, the groups were going to be a bit larger than expected. Better keep the quantity of members leveled between them at least, so that they'd be more manageable. And since Eryn had decided to join Lasair's group for the search...
"For the sake of keeping the numbers even, I'd guess mine." She responded to Clairee. Unless Lasair has any oppositions to it, that sounded like the best division. Then Maeve came over. Excited much for an 'adventure'? "Very well, you can come--" Edelweiss was about to place her in her own team along Clairee by default as Maeve is part of CAEsAL, but apparently the bouncer-singer had other plans as she seemed so adamant of switching teams when she had barely reached the middle of the phrase. Well, so be it. "...Fine, you can go with Lasair's instead. I don't mind."
Maeve didn't mean she wanted to tag along with flamboyant hair boy, she meant the raven headed bird girl. But there was no need to object since the two leaders deliberated amongst themselves and decided both would go with the MI's while the kid agents went with Edel.
"My group could use the extra muscle since we don’t exactly have that kind of excuse.” Fireball said, and that solidified it.
"muscle I can provide," she assured, rolling up her sleeves and following after the MI group. She'd keep an eye on the Clairee along the way, fuming internally with the impulse to tell her she didn't belong here, but knowing she couldn't since Clairee didn't even know who she was or what right she had to say anything.
Post by Lasair Landevier Lupen on Jul 25, 2016 22:50:25 GMT
Well, that took a while, but at least they had it sorted out now. Lasair had a group of three plus himself (well four if you counted the walking stick that glued herself to Sayvahn), and Edel had three herself. It should work well. As Sayvahn and Clairee exchanged formalities (odd how they hadn’t found the chance to meet yet) Lasair double checked the maps and then nodded, turning to rest a hand on the doorknob. “Alright, my group is heading to the library,” he announced as he opened the door, releasing a small rush of cold air before stepping into it.
The walk through the halls was quick and quiet and Lasair found himself thankful for the fact that the library wasn’t too far away. When they arrived, he held the door for everyone to file in before he closed it behind him. “Alright everyone, we’re looking for prohibited texts. Books about Anders, books written by Anders, books about magic, official records about magic usage—the older the better. Also keep an eye out for some sort of document that lists people who are known to be anders and are thus taxed more heavily or watched more closely. We plan to make some amendments to that.” The amendments he had in mind involved a few ink cartridges resting in his pocket.
On the far side of the library, there were several tall windows that stretched high to the ceiling. These windows happened to give a perfect view of the West Gate to all who gazed through them.
Fortunately, his concern was dismissed by one of the rogues who turned their head to see him coming. Hastily, the rogue half-whispered/half-yelled at Thrak, "Hey! Use that sticker there to cut these ropes!" One woman reached an arm through the bars to point off to one side. And she hissed at him, "What are you starin' at? Just open the drat gate with that latch!" Thrakazog's eyes followed her pointing finger and realization dawned on him. He nodded quickly and then moved over to move the large latch. The sound of iron on iron grated in the night, but with the fistfight going on, and his haste to get the gate open, Thrakazog didn't care. The woman rogue though, palmed her face and shook her head, "You need some trainin'... BAD."
But the gate swung open and the Sveden who weren't currently punching and kicking at similarly engaged rogues turned to see the mountain of a man silhouetted against the night sky. He was wearing a black cloak that hid his features, but the dagger he held in his hand certainly made him look menacing.
The object which at first had appeared to be a cloak was actually a large parachute. The familiar features of Faolan Skye were revealed, though his figure looked much bulkier than the last time anyone had seen him, an improvement over the skinny and sickly looking man who had been carried from the EIRAL dungeons.
Drawing his blade with the flourish of a practiced sword fighter, he gave Thrak a brief salute, "Sorry I'm late." he uttered before rushing into the fray. His path took him, logically, to Cait's side. "I've been tracking these guys for three days and you just manage to stumble into them," he chuckled as he parried a blow from one of the Svedes, the sound of metal on metal ringing out in the night. If the palace guards didn't know they were here before, they certainly did now.
That wasn't so hard, Caitlin thought with satisfaction. "Nice work Thrak!" She called over the calamity. He'd been wise to cut the rest of the crew loose, made turning the tides a lot easier and a lot sooner. Skye's grand entrance couldn't have been more perfect had they planned it.
"Good to see you back, captain," She smiled to Skye. "Sorry to ruin your sporting for you," she added, given the work he'd put in to find these goons. "but couldn't let them ruin the fun for our window shoppers could I?" She jerked her head in the direction of the palace, indicating the sticky fingers she'd sent in ahead of the rest.
She snapped her fingers, and Cait applied one more count of Deceit II, on the Sveds fighting themselves, to convince them to start tying up their own men as they had been doing to hers before she and Thrak happened on the scene. Another gun glinted over her shoulder. "That should do it," She smiled at her team. "Now who's got empty pockets that need filled?" The hammer cocked back and a gloved hand slipped beneath her hair to painfully grip the back of her neck. The barrel pressed against her temple. Her smile faltered.
"drat it..." She mouthed the words. She'd miscounted.
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 soldier didn’t need to be told twice and she hurried back to ground level, handing the rifle back to Jovena as soon as they were within arm’s reach of each other. Before hurrying down, she had caught small glances of the altercation happening at the western gate and the sounds of metal meeting metal also reached her ears. What was so special about this night that would cause a fight to break out, following a flare being signaled from the room? She didn’t understand, but she rarely did when it came to things outside of the army now. With the fellow guard at her side, she rushed towards the battle, drawing her sword as she tried to tell who was the most dangerous of the group. That was who she would address first.
“Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do. Do not bother just to be better than your contemporaries or predecessors. Try to be better than yourself.” ―William Faulkner
Following Lasair was nothing new, and neither was scouring the library. Frankly, the whole thing seemed oddly familiar, to the point that Sayvahn raised a brow. “Hm, think they have anything racy in here? Something a little, risqué, if you catch my drift?” Like how magic influences the body? The feline scoffed, picking up a book that looked promising, but proved otherwise. Just a dull textbook of neighboring countries and so forth. What else could the older man expect from the castle of all places? Still, the vandalism of books was nothing new to blonde either. After all, a certain young man had gone about burning all of his. “Well, just chose what books you want and stack them in a pile, I suppose. I’ll open a portal shortly after and we can just shove them all in there.” The dancer stated, sauntering over to a rather dusty looking section of the library, his fingers, crawling across the bindings of the books while Mala walked about, stalking one person to the next.
“In a closed society where everybody's guilty, the only crime is getting caught." ― Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Eryn as unsure about this going with fox as well as they where not using code names ,maps the group was about to set off more people came and there was a lot of reorganising of who was with who , it was decided between fox and Edelweiss that Eryn should go with Edelweiss. Eryn felt happy inside but at the same time she got a look from fox that gave her a chill down her spine. Since that rescue, Eryn was more unsure of fox and his group and what they intend to do.
As they on there way as she followed edelweiss closely until they came to some offices , Eryn spent no time knowing what she had to look for "I'll search the top" she soda as she scurried up the bookcase like a mouse as she's started to go along , reading the spine of each book carefully.
Last Edit: Jul 26, 2016 23:18:43 GMT by Eryn: Major edit , to refollow the post
skills:
Telekinesis I & II, Aeromancy I, Cryomancy I, Pyromancy I, Gating I, Health I, Kinetics I-III, Toxins I, KF I-III, SF I & II, UC I, TW I
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on Jul 26, 2016 16:37:15 GMT
The arrival of Commander Skye was incredible. One moment, Thrakazog was standing there, staring down the barrel of one of the Svede's guns. His life was over, but he didn't even get time to have that life-before-your-eyes experience because suddenly, Skye dropped out of the sky via parachute, dropping the Svede to the ground under the impact. Thrakazog blinked beneath the cowl of the cloak, let out the breath he'd unconsciously been holding, and nearly wet himself. Skye saluted him, and Thrakazog would have thanked him then and there, but things around him were moving too quickly.
Even as Skye moved over to Caitlin's side, the rogues and Svedes were fighting among each other. Then Caitlin was shouting things - some were compliments, others were almost joke-like, and then she snapped her fingers. At that point, two of the Sveden soldiers who had been fighting one another began to move on their other companions. The ropes in their hands suggested they meant to tie up their fellows, and those allies resisted, starting fights among the Sveden all over again. Thrakazog was about to breathe a sigh of relief, when he heard the tell-tale click of a firing arm, and saw it pointed at Caitlin's head. The person behind her was in shadows, as most of them were, given the location of the gate and the darkness of night. Nobody carried torches or lanterns, and the only reason they saw each other was because of two lit street lamps that stood like sentinels on either side of the gate.
Thrakazog froze, unsure of what to do, as did most of the other rogues nearby. Nobody was giving commands - not Caitlin, not Skye, and not the Svede who had caught Cait. Their captain was at gunpoint, and it didn't look like anybody was going to be able to get to her or disarm the person behind her before a shot went off into her temple. Even the sparring Svedes paused momentarily at the sudden silence that fell across the area. It became so quiet that everyone could hear the sound of booted feet heading their way from within the compound - possibly the Queen's Guards on their way to secure the gate.
But what could he do? At best, Thrakazog thought he could challenge the gun-wielding shadow to a fight, but he didn't really know how to do that, and it didn't take a tesla-scientist to know that you don't bring a sword to a gunfight. If he was closer, he could have reached out and manhandled the weapon out of harm's way, or even just punched the person. But looking on, Thrakazog could see that even Commander Skye wasn't going to get a sword strike in there before Caitlin took a shot to the head. The situation looked grim, indeed.
But then, Thrakazog felt movement directly behind him - someone was right up against his backside. Thrak was so afraid to move, he held stock-still as he heard a voice call out from behind him, "I AM THE DREAD PIRATE NORBERT!! THERE WILL BE NO SURVIVORS!!"
Thrakazog's eyes went wide. He'd heard of the Dread Pirate, Norbert before! Supposedly, the pirate lord was something of a legend, shrouded by mystery, and washed in the dregs of many rum casks over the years. Every sailor had heard of hm, but none had ever met him. He was a quasi-fictional character who was said to be better with a blade than anyone, more vile than any currently-wanted criminal, and more slippery than an eel in an oil spill. A couple of the nearby sailors gasped, and just about every head turned Thrakazog's way. If they hadn't noticed him before, they did now - marking the immense, shadowy figure who stood holding the sharp-looking blade, and whose face was obscured by the cowl of the big, black cloak. Apparently, even the Svedes had heard of the Dread Pirate Norbert, because most of them balked at the scene as well.
But whoever was holding Caitlin hostage wasn't completely taken in by the fantasy-come-to-life. Even if that person believed that Norbert was actually here, and that their souls were all doomed, they were still in the position of power, with their hostage at the point of a gun. A voice called out from behind Caitlin's head, "Show yourself, Pirate Norbert! I wanna see the face of the man I'm gonna put to rest, once and for all!"
Still, Thrak stood frozen. He wasn't sure if the voice behind him was the Dread Pirate or not, but he wasn't going to budge if Norbert was standing so close that he could kill Thrakazog without a thought. And with the Sveden pointing a gun at Caitlin, and talking about putting Norbert to rest, Thrakazog didn't think it wise to move, talk, or even breathe.
The voice came from directly behind him again, "THE DREAD PIRATE NORBERT TAKES NO SURVIVORS! ALL YOUR WORST NIGHTMARES ARE ABOUT TO COME TRUE!!!"
Thrakazog shivered in his cloak. Now, instead of Caitlin dying by the hands of the Sveden, she was going to be killed by the Dread Pirate Norbert! And he was powerless to do anything to save anyone!
One of the Svedes who had been trying to tie up his fellow Svede moved again, unable to resist the power of Caitlin's spell any longer. The movement caused the other Svede to turn and look at his companion, and shout, "Hey! What are you doin'? Bugger off!"
He pushed the Svede with the rope. That Svede came back with a punch that sent the pusher reeling back into a rogue. The rogue shoved back, sending the pusher-Svede back towards the one with the rope again. The mesmerized-Svede went for a punch, missed, took one from the pusher-Svede, and fell back into yet another of the Svedes. It was worse than a barrel of Svedish Fish! That Svede pushed back even harder, sending the rope-bearing one back towards his original intended target, who sidestepped and pushed again, shoving the rope-bearer directly towards Thrakazog and the Dread Pirate Norbert. Still, Thrakazog remained frozen, and the stumbling Svede crashed into him like Thrakazog was a solid wall, whereupon the Svede froze, looked up into Thrakzog's frightened face - now that he could see him so closely - and blinked in surprise. The Svede gasped, "You? You're the Dread Pirate Norbert?"
Thrakazog stayed frozen, as he looked down into the man's eyes. Those eyes started to look glassy, and then rolled up into the Svede's head. And right about then, Thrakazog realized he felt something hot and wet on his hand... on the hand that still clung to Caitlin's sword. And then the Svede became heavier, falling back and away from Thrakazog, and sliding free of the sword that had accidentally killed him. He slumped to the street, rope still in his hands, and Thrakazog trembled.
But whoever was behind Thrakazog wasn't shocked into silence like Thrak was. That person - the voice of the Dread Pirate - was just one of the rogues they'd freed from the gate. And that experienced battler was not the stranger to death that Thrakazog was. He called out, "THE DREAD PIRATE NORBERT IS HERE FOR YOUR SOULS!!!" He dragged out the word souls so that it sounded like the tolling of a bell.
That was it. Thrakazog lost whatever fortitude he had left. He screamed, and started to run away.