"Hmm," Orup mused thoughtfully, leaning in to get a better look at the map, "well, as I recall you can't actually see it on the map, but..." He considered it for a little while longer, taking a minute to examine the nearby landmarks. After a bit, though, he jabbed a finger at the map, pointing to a basin of sorts besides a plateau, "Here. Should be here. That's where that lyin', cheatin', wretch of a lich lives; they call him Charon-Ur, but I'll tell you--he's not fit to be named more than a beast."

Charon-Ur? That... that sounded uncomfortably close to the name of Kasdim-Ur. His mind flashed back to the book on liches that Relayia retrieved, and Rua made a mental note to reexamine that book; he still had it along with the other two. Maybe there was some naming convention among liches.

"It's some ways off from where I'm headed," he noted. "If we're careful, though, I think I can make my supplies last long enough. Let's go."

Tsuminar



Finally the pain was subsiding, Larent gave a grunt, eyes still dancing with cold merriment as he gazed up at Elle'n. "Boasting of past exploits while being extraordinary useless at threats. Maybe you're not the girl I want." He put all of his will power into the gesture, forcing a nonchalant shrug. "If you kill or otherwise get rid of me, Pius will put someone else on the case that won't be as forgiving. Fitzgerald, for instance." He referenced one of the more vicious leaders of the intelligence community, something of a rival of his as well.

"You and I can be friends, if we work at it. You have power, though you may not realize it. I have resources. Or I can just get rid of you. But that seems a terrible, terrible waste."

Gladly, Orup picked up the pace again, falling in line behind Rua, "Ahh, if it's food or water you're worried about, boy, never fear. I can cook anything in this jungle from one end to the other, I can. Where is it you're trying to head, though? I've been roaming these parts for the better part of a year. I may've been there before."

---

"You're not in much of a position to make threats either, it seems," she replied, taking a step away from him as she finally pulled her hood off and pressed a button on a small black box on her belt. "Besides, IOs are all the same, even Fitzgerald," she replied calmly, though it was true she wouldn't prefer to have that reckless, cold-hearted bitch of a woman breathing down her neck. It was amazing she was still with the Empire.

"The truth of it is, I'm not looking for a friend--least of all, a forgiving one, so you're going to need to do better than that." That much was true; he would need to put more on the table than a vain threat of sparing her. But it was also true, now, that she was listening.

Edited by Ribitta on October 17, 2014 at 13:52:55

"There's some old ruins somewhere around... here," Rua pointed a fair distance away from Orup's own destination on the map he still had up. "Terrel and I were going to see what we could find there."

He shut it down after letting Orup get his look at it and continued on. "And I wasn't too worried about food--I was thinking more along the lines of medical supplies and antidotes," he explained. "You know, for the giant spiders out in these parts. Christ, I can't stand spiders..."

He fought the urge to shudder. Damnable little soulless-eyed bastards with their too many legs...

Tsuminar

"Assuming I am forgiving is perhaps a mistake." He wobbled a bit, sitting up and taking an experimental, only slightly-painful breath. "And Saying IO's are all the same . . . well, again. Makes you sound a bit of an idiot. Are you sure you didn't ride daddy's coattails all the way up to the top?"

Feigning hurt, Orup clutched a hand to his chest dramatically, "What do you think of me, boy? Some half-rate hack who can't produce a simple anti-venom? If I can survive in these woods for as long as I have, you and I can make one spectacular team, I suspect."

---

She raised an eyebrow at him for that, her face still a mask. That was the murmur that always followed her, and no amount of facing it made it sting any less. Her father was a great man, but she could do better.

"What is it to me, what I sound like to you? I don't suspect we'd be having this conversation, if you really thought that were true. I'm not interested in becoming a pawn, Shepard, I'm interested in becoming a queen. If the bishops and knights think I'm not a threat, it's only to my benefit."

Tsuminar

Larent smiled finally, the expression still cold as ice. But perhaps just a touch warmer than it had been moments ago. Even if only a micro fraction. "Then you and I have roughly the same goals in mind. Hence the meeting." He pushed up slowly, standing with great care. "Queen's need friends. Else they don't remain queens long. I'm looking for a friend. Or if you prefer, a business partner. I think it should be you. But of course, you'd have to agree." He ended with a widening of the now-wolfish smile.

Elle'n examined him a for a minute before replying, still cold as well, "Pius and his friends would not find your betrayal so peaceable. Are you sure that's an enemy you wish to risk making? Count the costs up front. I told you I thought all IOs are the same, this is what I mean by that: they're liabilities. In the last year, they've had nine go rogue, not unlike yourself. They are, one might say, the usual suspects--they know too much for anyone to be terribly comfortable keeping them around. Is that a line you're prepared to walk?"

"You make a good point," Rua admitted, remembering how Orup nearly ran him over. "Still, I hope we don't run into anything that really necessitates it. I can handle myself in a fight but I don't want to take too many risks."

Coming to Rogueport was big enough one. He just counted himself lucky that Droge was in the area. Speaking of in the area... "Any idea what I should expect when we get there?" he asked. "If there's a lich involved, I'll probably need to break out my own potions as well."

"Your own potions?" Orup found himself asking, his tone eager as he forgot the real question that Rua had posed.

Rua grimaced, he was certain that the alchemist was not going to like what he was about to tell him. Opening up his inventory, Rua materialized a bottle filled with a bright, viscous liquid in it. He held it up gingerly to Orup's gaze. He hoped the alchemist recognized the highly volatile concoction.

"You ever see what a lightning bolt can do to one of these?" he questioned.

The alchemist's eyes widened in recognition of the mixture, almost flinching when it was held up so casually. "What're you doing with that, boy?" he asked, almost wanting to add that he should put it away promptly. "Most cities I trade in won't even let me sell them."

"I learned almost half a year back that these things make really good grenades," Rua explained. "Shake it up, throw it and hit it with a lightning bolt, and there won't be much left to clean up."

Rua stowed it back in his inventory. "I try to keep it in my inventory. Learned the hard way what happens if someone hits the bag carrying it," he said. That one still woke him up in a cold sweat at times.

"I reckon that's the wisest choice," Orup said anxiously, watching the thing until it vanished into the confine of the other player's inventory. He himself had a handful of mixtures like that one that were too risky to keep easily on-hand, and the one that Rua held really couldn't even be called a grenade--more like a small warhead, given the right amount of energy.

Hadn't he asked him something else, though? Oh, that was right!

"As for where we're headed, it's... Well, once the lich got all the acolytes riled up, it took a turn for the unpleasant, I fear. They're not so much fighters themselves, but there are enough foul creatures to pose a bit of an issue, at points. I've got a special edge on 'ol Charon this time, though," Orup finished with a chuckle, patting his pack, apparently quite pleased with himself.

"Well, we should do alright then, if we're cautious," Rua said, glad to know that Orup had come prepared for what they were to face. "Who're we rescuing? An NPC or a player?"

"Err, well..." the alchemist began slowly, shifting uncomfortably at the question, "that's a complicated question, in this case. It's an NPC, I suppose you could say, but... well, you'll see when we get there." He finished rather lamely, sticking his thumbs behind the straps of his pack and glancing around, as if he'd found something interesting in the sky.

A cold wind blew over the rooftop, wafting in the smells of the still drizzling rain. A clean breath in a shadowy city. "Prepared or not, my feet are already upon it." Larent answered dryly. "So the question is, do you think you need help? Or will your rise be that of a singular entity?"

"... well, if you say so," Rua said after a moment, shrugging. Everyone had their secrets. He just had to hope Mepple's didn't bite him on the ass. With his own Theta status, and everything that was going on, there was just too much to lose at this point.

Relayia pushed off his shoulder and took to the air, gliding on ahead to check the way, or maybe to hunt. Hopefully the rest of the day will be uneventful. He still hadn't gotten a response from Maia yet, and prayed that she had decided to prioritize tracking down Terrel over skinning him alive.

"Even Aurinar Stamarin has help," Elle'n said in return. "The real question is if you're worth it. I know Stamaria, and I know the political theaters. What do you have that I couldn't obtain for myself?"

---

"Well, best be getting a move on then," Orup said resolutely, "plenty of daylight left to cover some ground!" Now... if only he had some music to pass the time, but his instrument was in pieces sadly. Ah well, one step at a time.

Night eventually fell on the Cher Plek region. The skies went from a bright blue full of clouds to streaked with gold and red, which was fading quickly into the violet hues of evening. The foliage, already murky at best, were quickly becoming foreboding, and Rua's own misgivings about the local fauna caused he and Orup to halt their trek for the night.

They found a sizable clearing with little to offer would-be predators places to ambush them and set up camp, with Rua cleaving branches from trees off to use for a fire.

"This should be all we need for now," Rua told the alchemist as he set the last two branches on the pile. Relayia fluttered down onto his shoulder with a chirp. "We're good for the night now, I think."

A chilly breeze swept out from the sea and into the shantytown, rasping right through Fille's clothing and causing the girl to shudder. She swept her hands over her bare shoulders and looked about from their place on the dock. "It's getting dark out," she noted. "I think we better go back to the warehouse now, Sera."

Branwyn relaxed a little while the creature stamped up and down. Really, she thought, it was no better than a child throwing a tantrum! It was hard to be frightened of it when it was banging its head against the wall like that and moaning so piteously, but she forced herself to remain wary of the undead boy. After all, it was quite capable- and quite eager, if its protestations were any indication- of ripping her to shreds. Despite that, it wasn’t attacking her; judging by its exclamations, it sounded like it had made some sort of promise not to hurt her. Branwyn didn’t know to what it was referring to, but she was grateful for her continued existence as a living being.

It was time for a decision. Branwyn had absolutely no desire to remain in the company of this wretched, disgusting, immature abomination; however, caution and reason whispered that keeping it with her might be for the best. She knew not where the ancient Relic could be, and her knowledge of the city was, evidently, grievously flawed. And if the undead here were rational, which they clearly were, wouldn’t they have developed their own customs and habits, having been isolated from the outside world for so long? Branwyn needed a guide; that much was certain. She watched the little imp from behind her corpse-mask and realized that their meeting could work in her favor; this was as good a way as any of establishing contact with a native. In any case, she hadn’t been lying when she’d declared her desire to document the city of Thebas. What better way than this?

Branwyn opened her mouth to speak, but then she closed it again. The words she had planned, said as if to an intellectual equal, suddenly seemed foolish. The thing was acting like a child, and it had been speaking like a child throughout their entire encounter; she needed to treat it as such. Branwyn disliked children- she had never understood them, and they all seemed to share an inexplicable loathing for her- but this was for the best.

“Hey,” she said, her voice a little higher pitched than normal, taking a half step nearer, “are you alright?”

Edited by Quill on October 18, 2014 at 19:39:41

Tsuminar



Larent gave a shrug finally. his silence seeming to last an eternity. "Everything. Or perhaps nothing. Where one will fall, two may succeed. Where one is vulnerable, two cover each other." His eyes narrowed just slightly. "Pius thinks you weak, ready to fall. His orders were to crush your hope. Sooner, rather than later, he will realize his mistake and attempt to put you down permanently."

_____

Rogueport


Sera finally snapped herself out of her stargazing. The lights of the distant stars just now barely visible in the failing light. "We'd best. Are we just meeting her back at the Warehouse?"

Orup nodded agreeably, examining the campsite that Rua had picked out. The boy certainly had a knack for it, he'd happily admit; most of the nights he'd spent out here were in trees or familiar spots and villages. Walking into the center of the camp, the short, heavy-set man finally unmounted the enormous pack from his shoulders, setting it down with a heavy thud.

"This should be great, boy," he said excitedly, rummaging through his pack for a moment before pulling out a completely ordinary looking stick. "I'll set the wards, and we'll get straight to dinner!"

---

Shepard remained silent for a long while, but Elle'n waited for him until he spoke. It seemed they had something of an accord, though she was still wary of the game he played.

"He fancies himself in total control," she replied honestly, though it was, perhaps, with a catch now. She had underestimated Pius, and it had cost her dearly. She wasn't afraid of him, but the man wielded more power than most suspected, and the only reservation he had on her life was tenuous at best--no more than a pesky rule just looking for a reason to be broken. It gave them no real advantage.

"It seems we're left with only one option, then," Elle'n concluded, after a long pause of her own. "We kill Pius."

---

"Do I look all right?" Skild snarled in return, though the bite was leaving his voice under waves of self-pity. Woe was he. The greatest rooftop runner to ever roam Thebas reduced to nothing by one stupid, pesky, idiotic word. If he ever got his hands on that voice in his head...

But he still had one hope left. So the girl couldn't die--fine! Killing was for Korresh, but what Skild desired was that mask. More importantly, he wanted to know where it came from. Only, it would be so much easier if he could just ring the answer out of her throat and toss her to a grave! A sob crept up into his throat, but he struck it down fervently.

Pull yourself together!

Clambering to his feet, Skild sniffled something that was certainly not snot back inside his nose, planting his hands on his feet and looking at this girl--Branwyn?--for the first real time. So she'd tricked him. Fine. He could be tricky too.

"I'll help you with... whatever stupid thing you're here to do, but you have to help me too," he said at last, peering at her carefully, as if he hadn't been moaning uselessly on the ground only a minute ago. No no, that was then. This was now! And that mask. That was next.

Rua sat down on an upturned rock and brought out some sharpening tools to repair the damage he'd done to his sword with his woodcutting. Relayia took to the air to land on Orup's discarded pack, poking her nose at it curiously.

"So what's for dinner, anyway?" Rua asked as he grinded a whetstone across the blade of his sword, unmindful of Relayia's curiosity--she knew better than to actually get into any bottles. "You said something about a family recipe earlier."

"I guess so. Best chance of finding her, at any rate," Fille said, glancing off at the warehouse towering over Rogueport. "Assuming the guards will remember us or let us in."

"Err, did I?" Orup asked, honestly not sure if he had. He must have, though, if this boy had brought it up. "Ah, of course, yes. I trapped a beast a few days back and salted the meat. I've got a stew that will explode your virtual taste-buds!"

As he spoke, the alchemist scurried around the outside of the camp, tracing a circle in the dirt and grass that would mark the outer boundary. Once he'd finished the circle, he returned and sprinkled a powdered substance into the rut he'd created. After it was complete, he returned to his pack and pulled out another vial, which he held in his hand like a grenade.

"Better stand back, boy," he instructed very seriously, aiming the thing toward the pile of wood Rua had brought back. A moment later, he hurled the concoction, container and all, into the wood. At once, flames erupted from where the vial struck, and Orup stood back, a smile of satisfaction on his face. "Don't suppose you spotted any water sources nearby, did you?" he asked, the thought just occurring to him. He carried water with him, but it made sense to gather as much from their surroundings as they could.

Rua flinched back at the conflagration Orup created, grimacing. "I could've just had Relayia do that," he remarked, nodding at the fire. Hearing her name, the dragonet took to the air and rejoined Rua once more. "And, water, hmm... yeah, I think I saw a stream nearby. How much do we need?"

The alchemist flushed a bit at that, embarrassed at Rua's words--he'd just become so accustomed to doing things on his own out in these parts, but it was nice to finally have some more options. And have someone who could go get the water!

"Oh hmm," he replied, turning to his pack. He stuck his hand in further until he pulled out a sizable pot, which he presented to his companion. "About three quarters full should do it, I think. We'll be feasting in short order, my boy!"

Tsuminar



Larent nodded once. "That was always the plan." He said simply. "He's far too annoying to bribe, and too set in his ways to sway to a different way of thinking."

Now was time to test her response. Had she been joking? She hadn't seemed willing to kill Larent. Why the apparent change of heart? If she thought killing Pius was an option, that meant Pius had to be a Theta. Or she was testing Larent. Either way, information gleaned.

_____

Rogueport



"Oh, they'll remember. We're a bit hard to forget, even with the scary NPC's blowing up chunks of town." Sera said with a sure smile. Heading towards the distant building, using its height to guide her steps in the failing light. At least some intrepid soul had bothered to outfit it with high powered floodlights, rather than torches. She shuddered to think what a torch would do to a building that seemed mostly wood and kindling-to-be.


_____

Stamarian 7th Armored Legion. Cher Plek Roadways


The Lead Scout of the seventh found his commander without very much trouble. As usual, the Warlord was riding in the midst of his cadre of elite guard, out in the open for all the world to see. Raiph clambered up onto a trundling tank moving alongside the Warlord and nodded sharply, keeping his balance on the moving vehicle with ease. "Sir." He said, respect and admiration plain in his tone, with just a touch of annoyance.

The Warlord nodded firmly back. "Raiph." He greeted quietly, the soft talk of the soldiers around them not ceasing so much as bending away from the two. "Were you so busy playing gallant savior that you didn't check the girl's identity to see if she really "is" a Stamarian citizen?"

Raiph shook his head, "Well sir, we didn't check her ident, no. But I'll vouch that she isn't Korin. And frankly . . . She looked to be in need of help."

The Warlord seemed to ponder this for a moment before inclining his head once more, just barely. Indicating agreement, or at the very least, showing that he wasn't going to bother and override the scout's decision. "And the two that came after her?" He asked softly.

Raiph gave a shrug, "Well, sir . . . their story stinks of lies. Not much resemblance between the two, if he really is her uncle. Either way, she didn't want to see them. And I didn't think it would be a good idea to have all three in the convoy."

"So the gallantry only applies to women?"

Raiph chuckled. "There were two of them, and they didn't ask to come along. I didn't offer. Do you--wish to meet her, sir?" And here, a curious tone overtook the Lead Scout's voice. Caution. As though worried he suddenly might offend his commander with some linguistic mistep.

At that, the Warlord's eyes narrowed, gazing towards the treads of the tank Raiph rode atop, as opposed to the Lead Scout himself. "She's sleeping." He finally said, his own voice soft. "Let's not wake the girl. Mayhaps I'll speak with her when she wakes."

Rua took the pot from Mepple and lifted it with his left hand experimentally. He nodded and hefted it over his shoulder. "Alright, I'll be back in a few minutes," he said, turning and marching out of the camp, Relayia clinging to his right shoulder. He soon disappeared from sight, swallowed up by the underbrush.

It was close to ten minutes before he returned, the pot still slung over his shoulder, full of water, and now with his sword drawn, though he looked relaxed. The pot sloshed as he set it down on the ground next to the firepit. "Well, it's safe to say the local wildlife isn't terribly afraid of us," Rua said, gesturing to his sword. "Might want to be careful if we have to step out of camp."

"No, we're just kind of responsible for some of their comrades getting shot because that Liam guy took an interest in us," Fille remarked sardonically as she started back towards down, aiming to get to the warehouse before it got truly dark. "We might be in Audra's good graces, but I don't like the idea of relying on anyone else in this place to be in a good mood."