|[NMR] Gather the forces in a central location to begin plotting.||3||9.38%|
|[NMR] Begin the search for our leader, Morello! We need him!||7||21.88%|
|[NMR] The AfA and IsC are battling. Attack them both while they are weak!||11||34.38%|
|[IsC] Fall back to Parrotopia. It is easier to defend there.||16||50.00%|
|[IsC] We will fight to our last man. The AfA falls here!||8||25.00%|
|[IsC] Counter-attack the AfA. Send the fleet to the Black Keep!||7||21.88%|
|[The Knights Who Drink Tea] Send tea-filled troops to help the Brotherhood.||7||21.88%|
|[The Knights Who Drink Tea] Send tea-filled troops to help the IsC.||14||43.75%|
|[AfA] Withdraw the army from the Brotherhood lands. Send them to Parrotopia!||4||12.50%|
|[AfA] Call the troops back from the Brotherhood lands. We need their help against the IsC!||6||18.75%|
|[AfA] Send the troops left in the Black Keep to attack both Parrotopia and the bears!||8||25.00%|
|Multiple Choice Poll. Voters: 32. You may not vote on this poll|
It had seen and heard it all through Phalon's own senses. The fact that they were going after Morello had set it off in a small fit of giggles, amused and excited.
It stopped after Phalon had attached the message to the messenger cardinal. It wondered why Vladimir didn't just use hawks or even pigeons like normal people.
Guess these mortals aren't normal.
Wrath chose to remain silent for now. Even in it's current state, it could sense something was about to happen and it wanted it's host to be ready for whatever is going to happen.
Hope I get to chop a few legs off during all of this!
Sagarys - The Rogue Scribe
On his way to the docking bay, Sagarys stopped by the cantina for one last gin and tonic before his departure. Not wasting any time, he shot the drink down as quickly as he could, nodded a good-bye to Hank, and left the barkeep a hefty sum of extra gold before turning and leaving.
He traversed the winding, brightly lit halls of the Albion as he made his way to the docking bay. When he arrived, a guard stopped him at the doors. Sagarys told the man who he was and was immediately escorted across the bustling floor of the bay to a dropship that the Grand Marshall had already assigned to the scribe and his party. The pilot and several avionics engineers were shuffling about, making last minute checks and adjustments to the vehicle. This particular dropship had been set aside for this mission as it was a stealth prototype that was capable of using light refraction and sound dampening technology to conceal its approach -- something the scribe had specifically requested.
With some time left to kill, Sagarys found a stack of cargo crates near the ship and sat down to wait for his new companions to arrive. Once seated, he began rummaging through his things, making sure all of his equipment was accounted for and working properly. Satisfied that everything was in working order, he reached into the dark folds of his cloak to check for something of the utmost importance -- a small, tightly wrapped item, concealed and secured. This was something he could allow to fall into the wrong hands. Indeed, it was best if his companions did not know of it at all, for were they to be overcome by greed and steal it, Sagarys' plans would be ruined. Confident that the item was safely hidden, the scribe pulled a whetstone from his belt, drew one of his longswords, and began sharpening it as he waited.
((If anyone wishes to speak with Sagarys or his party before they leave, now would be the time. We're going once everyone arrives in the hangar.))
Sleiphner - A Gentleman Losing Composure of the Knights Who Drink Tea Tea! Tea! Tea!
While in the docking bay, Sleiphner lost himself--finding a small area where he could be alone as he pounded against the metal of the Albion, leaving a smaller dent that grew larger with each hit, as tears streamed down his face. He was afraid--overcome by that fear--overcome by thoughts of death--overcome by the memories of his long gone friend. But it wasn't a depressed fear, it was a fear of agony. He was a first guy in, last guy out as far as battle mentality went, offering support when necessary, but only after being an initiator as well. What he didn't fear was his own death, per se, but like with Sebastian, it was the fear of the death of his comrades.
After pounding against the wall for several minutes, as blood crept across his knuckles, splaying itself against the wall, he was able to regain himself--take deep breaths and collect his emotions. It was rare for him to lose himself, especially since the death of his friend. He resolved that he wasn't going to let his companions die or get as hurt as he has; he'd sacrifice himself before he let that happen. In the now 40 minutes or so left of the initial hour he was given, Sleiphner examined the monocle that he had had Baron modify, reading the tiny pamphlet of instructions that came with it, and programmed in the vitals of those that were going with him, assessing a mark to each as well. He'd be able to keep track of the members for a rather long distance, but should anything major happen, like a great separation, he couldn't be sure what to do. He cleaned and tightened the strings which Lady Sona bestowed upon him, now wrapping them around his metallic arm for a quick draw effect, as well as around his forehead to form a bandanna. This was surely it--his greatest challenge, and come hell or high water, his companions were going to return intact.
He then walked over to the particular drop ship which was granted by the Grand Marshall and found the Scribe as well, as he fuddled with his items, sharpening his long sword as he went.
His glance met Sagarys', and he gave a nod. He would not be venturing in with a top hat into this battle--it was simply too barbaric, and he laid down, outstretched nearby the Scribe, awaiting for the others to gather. He then dreamed softly, of the times before this war.
[Location: Albion Cantina – Mr T Virus (SSoTP), Dulst (Clan Full Moon)]
My head was spinning; everything was all just a blur. My ears were then assaulted by the bombardment of cannons. I opened my eyes, finding myself with my back on the floor, staring straight at the ceiling. Someone was trying to talk to me. I tilted my head up gently as my brain was under siege from a throbbing headache. I could barely make out the bartender standing above me; my head swam as my vision gradually returned. The man’s gibberish soon began to make sense.
“… … wake… buddy. Hey… wake up already. C’mon, man, I want to go on my break,” he irritably said. I stumbled to my feet, the alcohol still putting a heavy handicap on my coordination. I tried to grab onto the nearest table, but after slipping, I only knocked it over too.
“Huh… what?” I mumbled to the barman.
“Look, its eight o’clock in the morning. Go pick up your friend and get going,” he said even more agitated. The words took a while to process.
“Huh…? Friend…?” I lazily looked over to the corner where the barman was pointing. Then it clicked. There slumped over one of the tables was a very familiar werewolf with dark brown fur. Bottles and shot glasses littered the table. He rustled a little bit, knocking a few more to the floor.
“Oh. Dulst… Hey! Wassup, buddy!?” I said. I had little to no control over my voice; its pitch had no pattern to it. I was really out of it and really drunk. “Wait… You said eight o’clock… Why should that be… ringing a bell here?” I asked to myself. I fumbled and slipped over to the table Dulst was occupying. I shook his shoulder, to try and wake him up. He growled for a moment, and then just turned over in his seat.
“Hey, Dulst, buddy. C’mon, wake up,” I mumbled, shaking harder now. Dulst let out a lame roar and adjusted himself again, this time sliding off his chair and came crashing to the floor. The impact woke him instantly as he thrashed about for a second. The react surprised me and I fell backwards landing on my hind quarters. Dulst was clearly just as confused. He paused for a moment, rubbing his eyes and scratching his ears, slowly taking in what just happened the night before.
“Uh… T Virus…?” Dulst started, “What’re you… bleh… doing here? How’d you… uh… get to the forest?” He was clearly delirious; the drinks severely weakened the senses. I crawled over and propped myself against the wall next to Dulst.
“Uh… I think we’re still in the cantina,” I groggily said, “Do you remember what happened last night?” I slid back down to the floor. Dulst came back to his senses faster than me. Perhaps werewolves had a better liver and metabolism, I thought.
“Ugh… let’s see,” Dulst said, now scratching the back of his head, “We got here… Soupcup greeted us… Underneathen came in right behind us… Alpha Night went off somewhere…”
“Oh, yeah…” I said, “Then we got a couple drinks from the bar guy here.” I pointed right at him, he was still pissed. “Then Bob pulled out one of his… uh… drinks… Red Alistars… I tackled him before he could…” Dulst snapped his fingers.
“That’s it,” he triumphantly said, “We had that silly little drinking game. Why’d you pick those imported videos from the Imperium anyways?” I lazily shrugged, faintly remembering what he was referring to.
“I dunno,” I weakly said, “I thought ‘Tons of Damage’ was a fun phrase for it… You do got to admit, those were fun to watch, right?” Dulst nodded.
“Yeah, those were awesome,” Dulst said. “Boy, those escalated very quickly… I mean, that really got out of hand fast…”
“It jumped up a notch,” I said. “And he killed a few guys. Did he throw a trident?”
“Yeah,” Dulst said, lost in the nostalgia, “there were yordles, and a man on fire, and he killed a guy with a trident.”
“Oh, yeah,” I grumbled, “He’ll probably want to lay low for a while. He’s probably wanted for murder…” Then something hit me. Something was missing here. Or, should I say a few things missing.
“Uh… Dulst? What happened to Underneathen?” I asked hm. He took but a moment to try and remember before he replied.
“He was here in the cantina…” he began, “to try and find volunteers. But nobody would take him up on the offer, so he went to look elsewhere. I think…”
“Oh, okay,” I sat content with that answer. I lifted us up to our feet until I realized…
“Wait, where’s Bob?” The two of us paused and looked around. There was no sign of the purple caster minion anywhere. Uh oh… The bartender had now lost his patience with us.
“Look, guys,” he said, grabbing us by the shoulders, “You two can sort this out later. Go find your little purple friend somewhere else.” He promptly tossed us out. We flew right out of the cantina’s main doors and landed face down on the floor in the hallway. That was definitely not a pleasant experience. Dulst and I pulled ourselves up as we saw a familiar pair of feet right in front of us. We looked up to meet Under, his face contorted in frustration. We got to our feet, mentally preparing for the verbal thrashing we were about to receive.
“What the hell was that?” Under said. His voice was both calm and infuriated; he must’ve had a rough night too. “We are supposed to leave in less than five hours! Please tell me that you two at least found someone that volunteered…”
“Uh, well, funny story actually,” I began, Under’s face became even more unpleasant, “That’s not gonna happen, cause we kinda lost Bob…” Under facepalmed himself.
“You mean you lost the minion?” Under said embarrassed and disappointed. “And you two can’t find him because…” I wasn’t sure what kind of answer he was looking for here.
“We just regained consciousness, Under,” Dulst explained, “We enjoyed ourselves a bit too much last night. We can’t really provide any better explanation than that. That and I can’t really discern scents right now. I’m still a bit buzzed.” Under growled at us. He turned and began sniffing the air. He picked up on Bob’s scent almost immediately.
“This way,” he sighed, leading us onward. Under marched onwards with Dulst and me in tow. We had to find Bob fast. Who knows what sort of things would befall him here; a purple caster minion loose on the Albion, the greatest airship in the IsC fleet… That could not end well.
We walked through a couple hallways, after a while we passed by an impressive looking man heading straight back towards the cantina. ‘He is rugged and handsome, isn’t he’, I found myself thinking. But I had to refocus. I had to find Bob before I had to write any sort of condolence letter to his family. We passed through the main hanger again, crossing to the other side. Under’s nose still twitched as we grew closer and closer.
“It seems that he returned back to your room, T Virus,” he said at last. Wow, I thought, that was incredibly obvious. We came closer until we heard a familiar scream. Oh, not again, I thought. Bob was under attack again.
“I’m so sorry about this, he’s usually not like thi-“ a voice down the hall said. It was followed by Bob’s.
“Oh merciful heavens! Not again! Get it off me!” he cried. The three of us rushed over the room. A stranger was standing just inside the doorway looking in. Bob was now, yet again, fighting for his life. This time against a puppy that was gnawing on his head.
“Hey!” Under yelled, “Call off the pup. The minion’s with us!”
New Morello Republic Msyk & Kaiko
Msyk stirred out of his souvenirs. It was painful for him to revisit such a moment. But the past was in the past, and he had to adapt to his new tools, which he had done superbly. Shaking himself up, Msyk went to Kaiko near the campfire. His companion did no motion from his arrival, but Msyk could see the large grin on his face. On the contrary of Msyk, Kaiko expressed himself like no tomorrow. He channels his emotion and rage onto sources of energy, giving him extreme bursts of adrenaline and momentum. Msyk sat down near his companion.
"I was thinking about that nightmare again..." did he began before Kaiko cut him straight.
"Shut up about it. You said you didn't want to bring that up again, so fuk it."
The republic commander wasn't sure what to add. Fortunately, Kaiko had his own input onto the topic.
"So, what's the plan now exactly? The parrots didn't bite to the "trap". You think they are just stupid, or they saw through it?"
"Neither." began Msyk. "The parrot leader is a blind, blood thirsty fool, and he's directing his nation towards conquest by war and power. Typical stuff for human in a position of power, and exactly what we have to prevent."
"It's as big as ever, isn't it?"
"We aren't helping, let's be honest. We're both near the end of our Cycle too. If it wasn't for this war, it would be what... next month?"
Kaiko laughed at the mention of the Cycle and the war's timing. They couldn't have picked up a worst moment.
"Yeah, if training would have kept going on as usual. Although I was really horrible back at the Nikapital siege. I only killed 9 of the parrot knights, and left several wounded."
"You're still keeping a score? You know you're the only one who does it."
"Let’s get back onto the subject. So the IsC are fools. What about it?"
"They failed the most simple test of our conversation." Msyk was somewhat disappointed, and a bit gloomy at the idea. He would never have completely forgotten should Morello have been in that situation. "Leona is the reason they declared this war upon us. And I offered them the chance to get as close as ever to her, without mentioning it. And it never crossed their mind. Which is why I will stand by my point that the Grand Marshal is a selfish fool who wants nothing but blood. At least the Ambearsador was a more comprehensive person. But it was clear by the way that the Solari handled this conversation that they have no control over their course of action. They just blindly follow the bigger ally, despite the fact that they are a formidable force by themselves."
"They don't even have a poll option anymore..." whispered Kaiko, looking high above him.
"What was that?" pondered his superior.
"Nothing. Just breaking the fourth wall. So what's our next course of action, chief?"
Msyk wasn't sure if it was insanity or wisdom that crossed Kaiko's mind. He felt like it was better to drop the subject and bite to the trap of topic-shifting.
"Zileas is a wild card. I'll have Xandar with a full boat of our troops go on and scout on the Black Keep. We need to keep in note their movements. You are to travel tomorrow down to Tristania where the remainder of our troops are and hold position there with them. I need someone that Smubaiky can mentally talk to with every segment of our forces. On my side, I will convince Morello with Vacus and Smubaiky to move south with us as soon as possible. Our force is very small as it is right now. All of our back up troops have been slain by Zileas and his minions. While typical soldiers isn't what we lack, we lost the vast majority of our magical force when he took control of the Keep."
"That isn't true." said a voice coming from the shadows. Vacus walked forward, revealing himself to the campfire. The shadows dancing onto his cloaked figure into the night gave him a scary look. Kaiko almost flinched at such vision, but the nerfed one didn't bother with it.
"My brethren is still alive, I can feel it. Upon sensing danger, they immediately nerfed themselves from existence, placing their body into a stasis between reality and somewhere else. For now they are safe, but trapped within Zileas' reach."
Vacus didn't bother waiting for a reaction. He simply wandered away back into the shadows where he hence came from. Msyk had long learned to not mess with the Nerfed Ones' afair, as they are very peculiar creatures that didn't correspond to normal human laws. Their bodies could suffer much more than any normal norm and yet they still continued on. They had no understanding of feelings at all and lived through different necessities.
Vacus' little speech created a moment of uneasiness, and after a couple of moment of silence, Msyk recapped their situation.
"So we still do have our magical force somewhere, we just need to get them back. One more reason to get to the Black Keep. I will see with our Lord to move down south. If we regroup both of the parrot's enemies into one place, then he will have no choice but to come. I would have preferred their cooperation, but I will settle with what we have. They also have impressive pieces of technology. I we'll need new arsenals in our books soon."
"Meh, I've been working that out. Don't worry."
"For the troops?" pushed the Republican commander. Kaiko was among his finest man, but he couldn't take on the entire army of the parrots by himself.
"... no for me. I've got a few ideas to ask mages to for enhancements."
Msyk facepalmed upon hearing this. Magical resources were precious, and a war is waged with an army. Between buffing Kaiko or nuking several hundreds of soldiers at once by a concerted effort of his wizards, he preferred the second option. He was about to lecture his companion when Smubaiky started snoring, breaking the seriousness in the ambiance. Before long, Kaiko had his malicious grin in his face. Msyk wasn't very pleased with such discipline, but decided once again to drop it. He pulled a few twigs and threw them in the suddenly small campfire, allowing it to remain lit longer.
"That’s about it. You move tomorrow at dawn while I order Xandar to set sail towards the south. We'll have him do a large detour by the south so the mountains can block any form of line of sight of their approach, while keeping the pirate ship at a safe distance."
"Fair enough. What about Luce and Har? I haven't seen Hareve is a while."
The question struck Msyk hard. Hareve still didn't came back, and they were near a great force of enemy. The worst could happen. But Hareve knew what was in everyone's best interest. Should his life be in danger, he would trigger his exterminator behavior, bringing down as many people as mortally possible with him. Hareve was also a very nomad and independent person, and he could simply have wandered off.
"If Hareve doesn't come back we'll do without him. We can't wait on a single person. He would do the same if it was me who was missing..."
"You? Missing? Never in a thousand years!" Msyk didn't laugh at Kaiko's response. Now was not the time to fool around.
"You're an ass you know. As for Lucia, it's about time that I contact her. She's been silent since she told me that she was near her goal, and that was two weeks ago. I should probably check up on her. With that said, good night. I have some sleep to catch before I have my own turn to guard."
Msyk went back to his spot where he was originally lying down. Although it was bare ground near a fire, his life as an adventurer before serving Morello taught him to do with the resources that he had. Kaiko wished to add more, but he had enough for the night.
Ynaht - Imperium Messenger
“Call off the pup. The minion’s with us!” a voice screamed at Ynaht. He turned around to find a man, an armored bear and a werewolf standing behind him. "R-r-right away sir." he mumbled as he tried to pull Caine away. The minion grimaced in pain as Caine tightened his grip on its head. OK new plan. Ynaht closed his eyes. The energy stream appeared before him. He accelerated the drain on Caine and tried to slow down his part of the stream to a near halt. He opened his eyes in time to see the colour flush out of Caine turning him into a statue. A statue that had a firm grip on the minion's head. Ynaht frowned and pulled Caine away with a quick pull leaving stone teeth on the minion's hood. He picked up the statue and returned his energy to it, giving the pup life once more. He turned towards the doorway. "Sorry about that he sort of got away from me. I hope you can forgive me for this. If there is anything I can do to make up for this please just give me a call." Ynaht said handing the man a business card
((((Up to you MTV to decide whats on the card)))
IsC: Lady Luminesia, Light Sorceress
Luminesia rose from her bed once again. She had been aboard the Albion for two days now, and action never seemed to rest. Her natural curiosity pushed her to try to see as much stuff as possible, but very often she ended up in restricted areas where guards didn't let her pass. Luminesia was not familiar with the general layout of the Albion, and decided that her first stop today was at the medical bay. Upon arriving after a bit of a walk inside of the hospital-like area, she noticed that a handful beds were now empty, a major contrast to the over saturated area that she first noticed two days ago. Injuries were healing very well, or for the less fortunate, the kiss of death embraced them. She also noticed that the nurses in the area were borderline of exhaustion, probably because they alternated six hours of sleep with eighteen of work. They had done a splendid job, but were about to collapse.
Leaving the medical bay, Luminesia passed in review everything that she heard. Guards were very talkative. Although alcohol was a good agent to loosen their tongue even more, she avoided the cantina like no tomorrow. She wasn't too keen onto meeting drunk womanizers, and apparently the cantina had met quite a party yesterday.
Luminesia also noticed a magical dragon made of pure flames yesterday while she was on the deck. She didn't manage to give it too much attention because of the Traveller's reappearance, from whom she didn't even get a thank from, let alone give him back his book. It was still in her satchel, among with the rest of her tools. Luminesia was a bit hurt by his cold greeting, the man having wandered off without a word. She attempted to chase him, but he quickly moved inside the massive ship's entrails, losing her in its maze-like layout. By the time that she reached the outside deck again, the fire dragon was gone. This wasn't her day.
And her bad luck didn't end there. She also heard the rumor of a republican having sneaked up onto the ship, which froze her blood in her veins. Unfortunately, nobody could settle into its exact intentions, and apparently it disappeared as instantaneously as it appeared onto the Albion. The rumors that she caught of its goals varied wildly from surrendering to the Iron Solari's force to assassinating the King, who was yet to be seen for a while now. But she had yet to come to the bottom of this other gossip, and it now died off for a new one, much more interesting.
Apparently, a small party of the Solari's finest was about to assassinate Morello. Was it true? Was the war going to reach an end in the following days? She decided to stand still and wait. Regardless of what happens with such crazy story, she had her own agenda to fulfill. And so she set on, looking for anew for anyone who could help her satisfy her curiosity about the techmaturgy behind the creation of the Albion. How this gigantic flying ship worked was still beyond her.
Ambearsador Soupcup - Leader of the Brotherhood of the Armored Bear - Aboard the Albion - Saying Goodbye.
Soupcup only had roughly forty more minutes before he needed to leave, so he thought that he would make the most of it. He wanted to say goodbye to a few people before he departed, and fortunately for him, he passed Volibear in the halls. He seemed quite bored at the time of his wandering, and more-so seemed happy to see Soupcup.
"Hello there, Soupcup."
"Weren't you with Mr T Virus and his little group?"
"I decided to leave them alone. Last I saw, they were enjoying themselves in the cantina, and that was a few hours ago." Volibear said grinning. "So, where did you go off to?"
"Well, I went to have a meeting with the Grand Marshall and a few others. I'm leaving."
"Oh?" Volibear's curiosity seemed piqued. "Where are you going?"
"A few people, along with myself, are going to find Morello."
"To find Morello?" Volibear seemed more interested, along with worried. "Well, I wish you luck, Soupcup. I know you will be fine."
"Thank you." At this point, Soupcup began to smile, as he beat his chest, and Volibear followed.
Volibear started to walk on, and so did Soupcup. The heavy footsteps from the duo could be heard far down the halls. Soupcup felt happier that he had gotten a blessing to go from one he admired. He knew that Volibear would worry for Soupcup's safety, but a look of determination during the conversation showed Volibear that he would come back in one piece, as if it were some sort of non-vocal promise. There were a few people that Soupcup wished to bid farewell, so he kept treading down the halls and eventually came upon an interesting sight.
He gazed over at Underneathean as he yelled at Ynaht. They passed a few random words until Ynaht gave Underneathean a sort of business card. It was an interesting sight to see, truly. Bob had small stone fragments that seemed to be from a small pup, which Ynaht held. Soupcup walked up to Underneathean and said,
"I see you have your hands full," He said with a chuckle, "I just thought I would say goodbye before I take my leave. We're going after Morello."
Underneathean simply nodded, he seemed to know. That didn't much surprise Soupcup, considering that rumor had been flying around ever since they had left the Cantina a while ago. With that, Soupcup simply waved as he paced on. He made his way to the hangar bay, and moved through the bustling crowds until he saw a drop ship with a few familiar faces. On a crate sat Sagarys, seemingly bored. Nearby, Sleiphner stood. It made Soupcup smile when he saw Sleiphner, as he was just so dashing. The two exchanged looks as if to say "Yeah, I see you, oh-so dashing man." Soupcup walked forward and started to pet Sir Chompsalot, who replied by making kissy faces.
The Traveller: Various Localities Within The Albion
The Traveller paused for a moment as he exited the VIP room, letting his face return to its default, expressionless state before proceeding out of the cantina and into the maze of hallways beyond. He walked with singular purpose, his heavy stride quick and unbroken as he proceeded to his destination. Where that was, however, he had yet to figure out. With inhuman deftness and flexibility, he reached around to a small pocket in the back of his cloak and retrieved a diminutive bauble. It appeared to be an intricately welded pattern of black metal encaging a sphere of white energy. The traveller regarded the trinket fondly for a moment before crushing it within his fist.
Show me what I seek. Show me the route I must take.
The Traveller's vision shimmered for a moment as his mind pieced together the information his charm had provided him. Gifted with the knowledge he needed, the metal wizard swiftly proceeded to the docking bay.
While the guards didn't quite know what to make of the cloaked figure with deathly white skin standing before them, their confusion certainly didn't hinder their sense of duty, and they treated him as the would any other questionably authorized personnel. "State your business."
"I have not the time to convince you to let me pass. My business is essential to the future of both your nation and your world, but seeing as neither of you shall ever be inclined to believe me," The Traveller's spectacles glinted once again, "I'm afraid that I'll have to enter without your permission."
Before the guards could react to the threat, The Traveller had pulled a scepter from yet another part of his now-assuredly interdimensional garment. Pointing it at the guards, the wizard inverted the scepter, causing the two men to collapse exhausted onto the floor. The Traveller stepped as lightly as he could over their bodies, and proceeded unmolested across the outskirts of the vast hangar until he found what he was looking for.
What an astounding piece of techmaturgy. Truly the artifice of this plane knows no bounds. What wonderful additions these will all make to my collection. But first, there is a man that must die.
Striding up to the man that he undoubtedly would have considered to be incredibly good-looking had he still possessed any sense of aesthetics with regard towards living things, (and paying no mind to the sleeping knight and shark-petting ambearsador) The Traveller did his best to present himself in a warm, non-threatening manner.
"You are the Scribe who is leading the attempt on the life of the one called Morello, are you not?" He asked, his voice an octave or two lower than one would have expected from looking at him. "I wish to offer you my aid in slaying him." The Traveller's face broke into a poor imitation of a natural smile at this, his piercing eyes giving it an oddly menacing edge as he waited patiently for a response.
Phalonax 'Phalon' Valeion, Vladimist Blood Reaper and Iron Solari Assassin
40 minutes. 40 minutes was all Phalon had.
She looked at the note the blood lord had delivered. Phalon was still puzzled as to why he would send a handwritten letter, much less one that wasn't a death sentence.
Something must be going on.
For a moment, she considered if there was anything she needed to do. After deciding there was nothing left here and putting the note in a back pocket, she continued walking towards the direction of the docking bay when something caught her eye. Turning to the side, she saw a dent in the wall. One that she had made when she had that conversation with Wrath.
And its still silent. Huh...
Phalon took off one of her gauntlets and felt the dent. It was small, but deep and noticeable enough for anyone to see.
Hope no one thinks I did that. Or any of the holes for that matter...
She put the gauntlet back on and kept walking, thoughts in mind.
Phalon pulled Ragna out of it's sheath and inspected it Though the weapon could never scratch, break or rust, Phalon treated it with the upmost care. It was a gift from the blood lord himself, as well as the key to Phalon's and Viktir's friendship and one of the few material possessions she had.
Viktir...hope he's okay...
Upon arriving at the docking bay, she saw the gentleman and the shark from the cantina, a large, bearded man that easily towered Phalon and the scribe who's looks alone caused normal women to want to do questionably suggestive things to him.
She began to walk closer when a robed man arrived shortly after and began to speak to the scribe. A familiar wave rushed though Phalon.
Wait a second, that's the Traveller!
Phalon slowed her pace, looking for a way around. She didn't exactly want to have another encounter with him again, fearing things would end up like the last time.
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