Definitely a Problem
Aug. 6, 2020, 10:52 p.m.
Insaya Reigna Tolv Poppy Korka Thea Sunniva Amund Neilda Kael Rukhnis Ras Acacia Aswin Orelia Kalani Sophie Tiye Drake Tanith Gael Samira Hamish Rowenova Theophania Lena Tarik Sorrel Rosalind Petraea Pride
Arx - Lower Boroughs - Commons Square
Comments and Log
Definitely a Problem has started at Arx - Lower Boroughs - Commons Square.
Mr Snuffles the bumbling hedgehog, Barnacle, a young silver hound arrive, following Poppy.
2 House Deepwood Guards, Tobias, a pine marten arrive, following Braelynn.
Rohm the Blackguard, Avalanche, a Snow Shepherd arrive, following Caelis.
Izanagi, an Imperial Guard, Ami, an Imperial bureaucrat arrive, following Jadara.
Izanagi, an Imperial Guard, Ami, an Imperial bureaucrat leave, following Jadara.
2 House Deepwood Guards, Tobias, a pine marten leave, following Braelynn.
Rohm the Blackguard, Avalanche, a Snow Shepherd leave, following Caelis.
Dame Rosario Nevarre of the Oathlands, Anouk Ardennes, Anais Ardennes, Triage, The white dove of Mercy, 2 Valardin Knights, 1 Templar Knight guards arrive, following Sophie.
Finn the large Northern hunting dog with icy blue eyes, Rocco, the rascally assistant arrive, following Thea.
2 Keaton Huntsmen, Marie, chef of Keaton Hall, Sir Pupsalot, a polite, tri-color corgi, Oaken, an Oakhaven bloodhound, Fidelity, a white-tailed eagle, 1 Healer Guardian, Gigi, an apprentice physician with attitude problems arrive, following Reigna.
Eloise, a consummate professional, 2 Harthall House Guards arrive, following Sunniva.
1 Templar Knight guards, Sir Daniel the Beardless, a somewhat hapless Templar arrive, following Hamish.
Hamish arrives, following Korka.
Insaya skids down the road from above, the Inquisitor trying to arrest her momentum in the muck and debris of the street by catching hold of a post with one outflung arm. "WHERE?!" she cries out, seeking direction from any bystander, or head poking out of a window.
Reigna comes barreling out of the Clinic, a worried look on her face at the sound of alarm coming from outside. As she hurries through the doors, her voice calls out, sharp and high pitched with obvious fear, "Kael!?"
On first glance, the scene doesn't look particularly unusual. Oh, sure, there's some smashed crates. A few dockworkers scrambling out of the area. One of the warehouses has had its door busted open, but robberies, not unusual. The dockworker that appears to have been thrown into the wall of the warehouse next to the door, on the other hand, a bit more...alarming. He's left a dent, and is somehow still alive, if nursing what are clearly several broken bones. Possibly more than several.
Poppy was at the tragedy and hearing some loud noises, she and a bunch of the children clamber out the door. "What was that?"
Korka is not really running. After all they called for the Iron Guard, not the Inquisition. Though when she sees the dent in the door she sighs and downs the rest of the red wine in the glass she is inexplicably carrying, "Ugh, this is going to be a thing isn't it."
1 Saik Guard arrives, following Neilda.
1 Saik Guard leaves, following Neilda.
Ras arrives, following Rukhnis.
1 Saik Guard arrives, following Neilda.
Thea was on her way to start her shift at the Clinic. Honest. But the shouting made her rush a bit faster, the crash not helping matters. "What the hells is going on now?" Probably agreeing with Korka. "I thought you were good with things..."
Kuhlai D'Mahn an aide, 3 House Mazetti Guardians, Night an Ostrian Cat arrive, following Strozza.
Sunny, an Ostrian Cat, Strozza arrive, following Orelia.
Sunniva appears from the Clinic on Reigna's heels. She scans the immediate area, looking for Kael herself. As she realizes Reigna is off and doing precisely that, the Hardwood Marquessa is moving off through the growing crowd towards the figure who left a dent, and his broken bones. The two Harthall guards stuck back at the door of the Clinic look less than impressed with this.
Amund was in the neighborhood, for gods know what reason, when he heard the racket. His lips are drawn into a straight line when he notices the state of disrepair of the warehouse, any peace-binding of his sword undone, just in case. The dockworker draws his attention, so he makes his way there.
Neilda jogs down from the Visitor's Gate, spies Thea - beelines her way. "You're supposed to tell -me- what's going on," she says.
Prior to the crash, Kael was leaning against the common's clinic there, his boot flush against the wall and studying the sky as though asking the gods for something. Patience. A wife that does not work ridiculously long hours. Maybe a new tunic. Who knows? Still, the crash was likely not something that was expected. He's straightening instantly, looking about - and when his wife calls his name he heads her way. "Here," he answers, drawing to her side.
Rukhnis comes down the street with Ras at a pace that's sort of a hectic trudge, tired and yet worried at the same time, following the commotion down to its source. Which, it turns out, is right outside her usual workplace. This only makes her look more worried still, and her eyes shift sharply around at everyone already gathered.
Ras arrives on the scene with Rukhnis, and stops abruptly when he sees what's happening in the square. Then his steps speed to keep up with the Eurusi woman, dark eyes widening.
The ruckus outside of Torian's shop draws Acacia to the front door. Lingering in the doorway, she takes a moment to try to figure out what the hell is going on.
Aswin Ulbran certainly isn't of the Iron Guard, but his barbershop is quite near so at that commotion he does the natural thing and comes to snoop and gawk with the rest that have made their way to the area. While others run and get in the middle of the action, Aswin says nothing to no one and instead hovers on the outside of the action, watching what he might while not getting too close to anything.
Orelia and Strozza follow the gathering crowd and the noise they followed to the square and look around. "What happened? What was that crash?"
Cutting through the commons square, initially heading east while carrying a stack of books all bound with layers of twine, Kalani follows the flow of alarmed traffic that spills toward the epicenter of where Something has Happened. Such thing do draw crowds of on-lookers, it's just human nature. The Seliki physician edges her way forward, as the flow of foot traffic allows, listening to snippets of chatter to try to pick up what is actually going on, beyond the excited 'did you see that!?' sort of comments.
The call for help has made its way to Sophie while caring for a patient, who has rushed toward this plea for help. She reaches the crowd, a number of whom are fellow physicians, and she shoves her hands into her pockets, and begins to survey the scene carefully. Her eyes settle on the man, Twelve, and she begins to slowly make her way closer, though she intentionally does not approach him quite yet. Her eyebrows furrow as she sizes up the scene warily.
"Friend, you said a mouthful," Insaya says to Korka, and says, "Let's get that man clear of the doors, to the physicks..." And she moves in at a slant, to do just that.
Samira arrives, following Gael.
Atli, a Whitehold Mountain Dog arrives, following Tanith.
Rukhnis might look as much bemused by the number of (non-patient, noble) people gathered around or coming out of the clinic as she does by the commotion itself, and she mutters to herself, "This is what comes of only working a full shift every other night instead of a full shift one night and odd hours the other." Because somehow everything happening that's strange right now would have been prevented if she'd been on duty just now.
One of the dockworkers nursing injuries (not the poor guy who got thrown into a wall, he's just sitting there moaning and doing a good job of at least trying to breath), jumps at the sheer flood of people who arrive, which only causes her to wince more. "Some guy!" She waves furiously toward the warehouse. "Just...I don't know, threw Kiruc into the wall and tore the door open!" And then she spies Inquisition badges among the gathering crowd, and seems to regret saying anything at all, because she turns to bolt in the opposite direction.
Poppy glances at the man with the broken bones and the dent and her eyes go wide with alarm. "Oh dear." She ushers the unruly and excitable children back inside with a worker and shifts towards Sophie, ready to offer aid.
"I feel like someone with larger arms should do things like moving someone that's probably very broken," Korka drawls a bit, not moving to so much help Insaya as to get closer to the wounded man and the area, looking at the pieces laying around. The girl that takes off is looked at, perhaps memorized, but she says, "It's just not a running night."
A bard and storyteller can be found almost anywhere in the city, because stories can be found anywhere. At this /particular/ moment in time, Tiye Moretti happened to be cheerfully plying drunken sailors -- or soon-to-be-drunken sailors -- for interesting tales of their travels; the crashing noise is all too attractive a distraction, and the bard soon finds herself in the midst of a gathering crowd of other gawkers and lookie-loos curious about the noise. The mention of someone being thrown and a door being torn off prompts something of a curious look, as her attention snaps over to the warehouse and she murmurs, "Well, /that's/ not your usual sort of robbery. A bit lacking in subtlety..."
Orelia approaches the dock worker. "Is he still inside the warehouse?" she asks before she can leave.
"He really likes to throw folk into walls," Ras mumbles aside to Rukhnis, but this tough attempt at an unfunny joke doesn't quite mask the anxiety in his tone. Looking towards the warehouse, he raises his voice. "TOLV! You ain't alone!" Spotting Orelia, he snaps in a lower tone, "Don't kill him." Purposefully, he doesn't even look at Strozza near her.
Drake heard that the guard had been called, and thought - it might be ... more wolf stuff... and then he had that one moment of wondering if there's somewhere he should hole up to protect people and bar the doors instead of getting directly involved. Basically, he is en route. He is not wearing his armored vest but these days he always has his sword... just in case.
Reigna does a frantic examination of Kael first and foremost. "You are alright? What happened? You are not hurt?" Once she is assured, that yes, Kael has all his parts and is not bleeding, her attention turns towards the man with the broken bones... and Sunniva running into potential danger. "Sunniva! No!" She starts heading in that direction as well, "Kael, help?"
Tanith steps up behind Rukhnis, touches the physician lightly on the arm. The woman seems to be on the way to her bakery. "Hey, Rukhnis," she greets quietly, corner of her mouth tipping up as she peers over the crowd. "You alright?" Dark eyes flick back to the Eurusi woman, a glance of assessment to make sure her nearly-friend is in one piece. "What did I miss?" Ras gets a pinch, but it's one that's got a lot of warning. "Rabbit. What's going on?"
Amund stands by as he studies the dockworker, though the warehouse is given a look and a hesitating pause before he starts to make his way there. Ras's words prompt him to pause and so he asks, "Do you know the fellow?"
"It's about to be," Insaya says, sure. "He is just about as tough as tough gets, and WILL kill to get away, so watch yourselves. We need to bring him in ALIVE."
As Gael and Samira arrive hand-in-hand, the fleeing girl comes darting right between the two. She breaks their tether- Gael quickly releasing Samira's palm as the dockworker rifles by so quick the air behind her's left distorted. Or so it feels. "Hey!" Gael calls after her, a harsh and cruel demand, but it's no use. She's gone. Looking back at the surrounding findings, spotting Korka and Insaya respectively, yet another Inquisitorial badge - one that hangs off of his neck in the form of a medallion - approaches the scene in the form of Gael, standing deferentially out of Insaya and Korka's way, but close. "What happened?" He asks of each.
Thea is ready to step toward the broken man aka Kiruc, going to kneel next to him. "I mean, lifting him will cause more damage, depending what's broken. which well--,"she says. But she also takes in the rest of the surrounds. "Gods....
Like so many others, Sunniva makes her way to the man, Kiruc, who was apparently thrown into the door. "Shh, it's alright," Despite the building chaos of the scene, she settles to a knee and speaks quietly to the fellow as she looks over him, not yet touching him. A quick glance is lifted, and sent over her shoulder to the other physician's approaching. "I don't suppose any have splints, or a stretcher, with them?" she asks, only half doubtful - she has seen people carry far stranger things.
Aswin's eyes drift toward the warehouse in question, but he doesn't draw any nearer than he was on the outside of the flood of people. Instead, he begins to search the faces for people he might know. Then he drifts through the crowd to be nearer them.
"What? Why not?" Orelia asks Ras over her shoulder, undoing the peace tie on her rubicund blade on her was to the ruined door.
The dockworker is fleeing like her heels are on fire, she just waves unhelpfully over her shoulder in a direction that might be the warehouse.
As pandemonium breaks out in the Lowers, Samira hurriedly makes her way toward the sounds alongside Gael. The Culler nods solemnly to something her tall companion is voicing as they make their way toward the large crowd gathered. "Of course. I understand." Her gaze slides across the surroundings as they move, trying to make sense of the chaos until her hand is tugged from Gael's. As he moves toward the other Inquisitors, she turns to find a familiar face and makes her way toward Ras as soon as she spots him. "What's going on?"
Listening, eyes darting around, Neilda hears Ras muttering; those aren't /questions/. "Hey," she says. "What's going on?" She eyes him, like, what's he doing in a place like - oh. What's /she/ doing in a place like this. She just followed the people running-toward.
Absolutely no blood or broken bones on Kael. He looks quite fine and fit at the moment. That being said, when his wife heads in the direction that the cluster of people head, he grimaces slightly and, resolute, goes along after Reigna. To be fair, his general posture is defensive and it is clear his wife is priority after he scans the area and notes several warriors amongst the crowd.
A frown and a glance over her shoulder and back, Acacia reaches down to idly check the set of wicked looking blades slung low off her hips. A glance now to the man trying to breath and to those who are hopefully helping him is taken before she slides her gaze evenly to the warehouse. The leather clad redhead lofts a brow. "Someone know who's causing this row?" she asks no one in particular as the woman emerges from the warehouse and beats a quick retreat. "Guess we'll find out," she breathes and languidly rolls her shoulders.
Hamish follows along behind Korka, just trusting everyone insisting that there's some kind of to-do happening. On arrival the chaos of the scene leaves him nonplussed. "Well. Big mess. Ras is shouting." He squints. "People running. Okay. Caught up. I know everything. What's happening?"
Ras mutters something to Aswin who's come near him, and narrows his eyes at Orelia. "Cuz I said so." That's not the greatest argument. He follows it up belatedly with, "Tolv's just lost."
Sophie lets a hand slip to Poppy's arm and she turns her eyes toward the Mercy. Her eyes find Poppy's and she nods toward the injured man that seems to have dented the wall with his body. Perhaps she's more suspicious than she should be, but still, she waits. Her voice is quiet as she speaks to Poppy, "It might not be safe." Her eyes then move to the others surrounding the square, determining if others were wounded.
Sir Floppington the Soulful Hound, Tarik arrive, following Rowenova.
Sir Floppington the Soulful Hound, Tarik leave, following Rowenova.
Sir Floppington the Soulful Hound, Tarik arrive, following Rowenova.
Rukhnis jumps noticeably at that sudden touch to her shoulder, and her head comes quickly around for her to stare at Tanith. Then she lets out a long breath and grimaces faintly. "I am fine," she mutters. "I only just got here. There is-- Tolv, a man who--" She breaks off with a sigh, seeming to feel the difficulty of explaining everything in the present chaos. Casting a glance off towards Sunniva, she calls out, if not very loudly, "There are plenty of all those things in the clinic itself."
Shifting the hold on the stack of books she's carrying, moving them to tuck against her left hip instead of her right, Kalani has her other hand curled around the carrying strap of the satchel at her side when she turns slightly to agree with the very apt assessment made by Tiye. "Now that.. is spot on. Unless it's a diversion," her tone going speculative. "Big noise and draw the attention here, then the other thing is happening somewhere else," her head turning slightly left then right to take a harder look at the surrounding area. And gestures toward the fleeing dockworker, "Like maybe, where ever she is running off to?"
Orelia nods to Ras. "I won't kill him if I don't absolutely have to," she promises him. "Best I can do." With that, she goes the direction the dockworker pointed, intent on facing whomever is in that warehouse.
Poppy nods lightly at Sophie's words. She is the boss lady so Poppy waits for her permission before going to the injured worker. While she waits her gaze flicks to the warehouse and then to Ras, clearly confused. "Who?"
"You're not very forthcoming." Amund notes to Ras, drawing his sword as a precaution as he makes his way to the warehouse.
Korka gives Ras a very sidelong look, then looks to Orelia, "Why would you even think you'd need to kill someone? There's damage here, but the Iron Guard has been called. The Inquisition is here. Unless someone starts threatening the lives of all here why is everyone drawing weapons?"
"-I- don't even know what's going on,"Thea tells Neilda, buth er eyes flit to Ras and exhales. "Why the warehouse? Is there--something in there he wanted?" She is now over by the injured by the injured man, skimming him. By a safe distance. Dagger on hand. Just in case.
"Mm." Tiye considers Kalani's words. "A diversion usually wouldn't include something like /this/. It'd be like... oh, I don't know, unrest or a riot on the docks. A ship on fire. Something like that. This? This just reeks of carelessness or desperation... or just someone who plain doesn't care." The bard considers the warehouse thoughtfully.
Drake catches up to Reigna. "...Fancy meeting like this," he says, looking at her. She's already checking in on Kael, so Drake just looks down, then up again, at the surroudning areas. He tries to catch up with Orelia, moving at a jog. "Are we too late?" Then he notices Ras is also here. He looks at Korka, and looks... astonished at this. "Because he's the werewolf."
"TOLV! TOLV MORA!" Insaya shouts. "There doesn't need to be any more killing! He's going to put you all down! We can help!"
The warehouse itself is completely silent, though there are signs of more smashed crates--smashed to splinters, really--just inside. Further in is...not dark, per se, but not well lit either.
Sure to add her voice with her fellow Councilor, Tanith calls to Sunniva, "And a pair of hands that know to bandage, if you need it." She glances at Rukhnis. "Perhaps two."
"Ahh, but if someone is desperate enough to make this much noise, what ever they're about might be serious," Kalani points out and nods toward the warehouse, "I'm game if you are," she adds and, with a grin, and a brief eyebrow arch, starts that way.
Korka looks right back at Drake and shrugs one shoulder, "One of them," is her only response for him and she doesn't seem overly concerned. She does find a crate that hasn't been smashed to put her glass down on, looking up at Insaya.
"A werewolf?" Orelia asks Drake. "Well, this is a first for me." She grips the handle of her sword, ready to draw at the first sense of danger.
Since the one badly injured person seems to already have acquired a pleasing plethora of healers prepared to tend his hurts, Rukhnis simply makes a resigned shrugging motion at Tanith and keeps herself close to Ras for the time being. She casts a glance over at the warehouse, then back to the street rat while muttering something quietly to Tanith.
Kuhlai D'Mahn an aide, 3 House Mazetti Guardians, Night an Ostrian Cat leave, following Strozza.
Aswin won't be the first to move toward that warehouse. But as those others make their way in so readily, the Ulbran won't resist trying to catch a glance past the door over the heads of those gone before him from where he stands with Ras and Friends.
"I'm here. And fine!" Sunniva calls when she catches Reigna's call. She sends a brief look to Rukhnis at her very helpful statement. "Would you be so kind as to fetch some, perhaps?" she wonders, only vaguely tensely, before she turns back to the man on the ground. Her hands are gentle and, though confident, not as skilled as some of the more longstanding physicians at the Clinic. Her bedside manner, however, is exemplary. "That's right, just breath. We'll get you out of here shortly. What is your name?"
Showing up with Tarik and Flop is Nova, who keeps to the shadows to a degree, watching for now to get a sense of what is happening here and over there. Spotting Sophie, Nova lifts a hand her way with an expression which is grim.
Ras nods to the injured dockworker. "This guy needs help!" he declares, and walks towards the warehouse in the attempt to step between the building and those approaching it with drawn weapons such as Orelia and Amund. "TOLV!" he calls again, as if it's a hostage situation. "You ain't alone! You can have friends! We're here to help you!" Apparently he sees nothing untoward with some grubby commoner speaking on behalf of everyone in the square, including people who look ready to do violence.
Hamish watches people drawing weapons and rolls his eyes skyward. "Fortunately we live in a world without authority, so everyone with swords or what have you should just pour into the building. Tragedy in the Lowers is the sort of entertainment in which people from the upper wards can indulge before heading back home well away from it." He takes several steps back and moves to where Rukhnis and Tanith are.
Acacia frowns a little more at the growing crowd, the sound of splinters and the whisper of were wolf. Quietly she scans the crowd for something and then attempts to catch Samira's eye to bid the girl closer to Torian's shop.
"One of them, yes. Still an answer," Drake says to Korka. "The one whose name I know." Then he looks at Orelia. "I forgot my compass, so you lead the way." He pauses, and puts his own hand on his sword. "... Well. Wait." Another hesitation. "No, go ahead."
Tiye considers the situation, frowning at the shattered door. "A /werewolf/? she repeats, overhearing people mentioning that word. "Well. /That's/ a story. Not certain it's a story I'd like to be /part/ of, however, and wandering into a dark warehouse with a potentially-murderous werewolf of uncertain intentions seems..." The bard looks for a polite way to say it, and then shrugs before settling on, "Well, pretty flamingly stupid."
Rowenova says, "Everybody arming up, please know that A> they will not work, and B> you are likely to get rended no matter what your armor is. I suggest letting those who wish to speak to him do so. First."
Poppy steps finally to the injured man, still no real clue what is going on, but he needs help and doesn't seem a threat. She kneels down beside him and quietly speaks and asks for details about where hurts and can they move limbs etc.
The warehouse remains silent, but those who look into the door (or are bold enough to try to enter) can see a trail of destruction leading further and further back. There are still plenty of shelves and crates of dubious contents and sizes to block an easy assessment of what's in there, and where.
"Acacia." Samira's voice is likely to low to be heard over the chaos that reigns, but she does manage to lock eyes with the woman. She shoves her way through the crowd, throwing elbows and ducking around people as needed while heading for her fellow Culler. As she arrives to her side, she frowns and asks, "I gather it's the werewolf, Tolv. What else did I miss?"
Rukhnis makes a sharp but quiet noise in the back of her throat before touching Ras lightly on the arm, and then makes her way through the crowd to the clinic to begin bossing around the staff with an air of familiarity which in very short time results in stretcher, splints, bandages, and all manner of helpful things being brought over to the side of the injured man.
Neilda... has no idea what is going on, and it doesn't look like there's going to be clarity. Or a treasure hunt. Or a shortage of people to deal with what the problem is. So she eyes the ramshackle surround, turning once, then turns to Thea, shaking her head. "I'm out," she says. "I'm sure people have it covered."
Unlike the masses, as Gael draws ever-closer to the warehouse under Insaya's directions he's entirely unarmed. Something about the way he stresses the tightness of his knuckles and tightens the loose, hanging drapes of arm-wraps around his limbs conjures up an understanding of its own, however: he's ready for violence. Inching up beside Ras, he stares beyond the investigator's head and into the blackness of the warehouse. "You think he can hear you? I don't. He's probably seeing all red now, Ras," Gael tells him, so soft-spoken it's probably drowned by the din of people's alarm.
"Stay out of the way." Amund tells Ras in a chilly tone, adding something under his breath to the Lower Boroughs man, pointing to the warehouse. "It looks like shit inside."
Thea finds Drake for a brief minute before she sees Poppy with the injured man as well. "Hey..."she murmurs. "I don't want to move him too much. I don't want to--make anything worse."
1 Saik Guard leaves, following Neilda.
Sophie's eyes move to Nova and that seems to shake her into action as she speaks up, "If he is indeed what they say he is then Nova is right. Your weapons are likely useless." She steps closer, following Poppy, yet she watches the injured man suspiciously before saying, "Poppy, be careful.. that dent.. that would have killed some people, I think." Her eyes settle on the injured dockworker, and she sighs.
Korka glances over to Gael and Insaya then shouts to the crowd, "Which ones of you are with the Horned God who wants him dead? By all means, you go in first so we know who we should question tomorrow. If you could form a line by the door that would be most helpful."
Orelia smiles to Drake before slowly stepping inside. She moves slowly both to be sure of her footing and to make sure Drake follows her, eyes sweeping the area so as not to miss any detail.
While Rukhnis does what she does best (being smart and commanding and regal and knowledgeable), Tanith stays where she can keep an eye on Ras, shadowing him but keeping some distance. It's not a lot of movement, Hamish has clear access and space to approach her. "Rabbit ..." she says, worry in her voice.
Drake looks at Rowenova, and... doesn't even bother trying to check his temper. "Stow it," he snaps at her. "I am tired of being preached to about this." He makes a quick motion, and unrolls his sleeve... fast, showing what looks like a big claw mark still on his right bicep. It's not bandaged anymore, but it's not entirely healed, either. "Thea. Stay safe," he says. Then he nods to Orelia. "We can try talking first. But negotiations can fail."
Poppy ever the optimist, or maybe just naive still looks at the dint and with a tinge of hopefulness answers Sophie. "Maybe they got very lucky?" She shifts aside for the two Physcians with her and instead begins to hand them items they may need.
Ras glances towards Rukhnis, and then bites his lip. He glances back to Amund and the knight's chilly command, and a familiar sullen defiance grows in his eyes. "No," he says, and abruptly shoves Gael at the knight with his left arm, then turns swiftly into the warehouse in the attempt to move past Orelia. "Shit, put the weapons away!" he hisses to her, then starts to shout again. "Tolv!" he calls, a note of desperation in his voice. "C'mon, man! It's gonna be okay! You just gotta come out and calm down before...before everythin else, aight?!"
It's sheer curiosity that sees Theophania arrive here; when people are simultaneously moving to and from a location with great urgency, that encourages... well, at least a certain amount of -- for lack of a better term -- rubbernecking. She starts to approach pretty cautiously, however, when she hears the word 'werewolf.' "... I really ought to have invested in some personal protection," she mumbles to herself.
Then she sees Drake. Ah. Personal protection. She moves toward him at a slightly irregular gait, asking, "... Is there really a...?"
"That can't be a real thing," is the remark that Kalani utters, and maybe in a slightly amused tone of voice. But she looks, even harder, around then frowns as Nova issues not just fair warning but seriously healthy advice. "Huh," she exhales this one word but stands no closer to being able to look into the warehouse than where she already is. The general destruction and dishevel beyond the doorway itself is frowned at.
Reigna moves carefully towards Sunniva and the injured, Kael in tow. She starts directing her guards and aids to guide those mobile back to the Clinic. For the man with the broken bones, she points to a fragment of the door, long, wide and flat enough to act as a stretcher. "Let's get him on that and get him back to the clinic." SHe nods to Drake and says, "Hello again, cousin."
Insaya rustles forward to the mouth of the warehouse, and puts a foot inside. She glances at the wood of the warehouse walls, and the trail of destruction, and takes a deep breath. There is no way she can keep this thing from going kool-aid man (OH YEAH) if that's what he wants to do. "Talk to us!" She's small enough, and doesn't even have a weapon out. "We know the singing is breaking down! And it's getting quiet, and you've never known that!"
Tiye snorts softly at Korka's comment, but doesn't make any actual verbal commentary. Instead, the bard just continues to closely watch the door. Warily, but with manifest curiosity.
"They usually do when those who draw their weapons go in first," Korka comments dryly to Drake.
Lena edges in after hearing the crash and the cries, curious as most are about the goings on and what might be happening. Familiar faces are few and far between, and she circulates searching still, craning to see what she can see, hear the muller of the crowd, glean something of what's happening. And thus it is that she isn't quite looking where she's going when she bumps into Sophie. "Oh," she mutters, wincing when she realizes just who she's bumped into. She ducks her head, "Mother."
Samira frowns, eyes sweeping the surroundings as she steps toward Acacia, silently moving toward Torian's shop.
"Tolv Mora!" Orelia calls out ahead of her. "Come out slowly, and let's talk. Nobody has to get hurt."
After what the Mother Mercy says, Nova nods her way. She even motions her way, after what Drake snaps. "Not everyone knows the operating systems." says she, doing so with a quiet coolness yet every word well enunciated. "Sorry you are busted up. Getting even more busted up is not gonna do you any good, though. There are methods for handling him that we have here, if negotiation fails."
Sunniva immediately defers to Reigna when the she arrives, shifting her focus instead to simply soothing the fellow and leaving the commands to the other woman. "I did send someone for splints," she explains quietly to Reigna, shifting around so that she is out of the way for when they move the man onto the makeshift stretcher.
Gael is violently shoved by Ras into Amund, his feet and spatial awareness both utterly unaware of such sudden force coming upon his body and so he staggers under a precipitous gasp of air with enough force to knock into the sword of the Telmarch with the burdensome broadness of his body. "Fuck--!" He cries out, his voice of alarm drowned in the many calls and cries of pain in the open. He'd try, too, to hold himself together by trying to cling and stabilize onto Amund, making a mess along the way.
Drake hasn't drawn his weapon, but he's probably a fast draw. (Maybe. The sword has spikes around the hilt.) He looks at Theophania, and nods down to her. "You may want to stay back." He's going to follow Orelia in, at a protective distance.
"Always do,"Thea assures Drake. "You too. You're going to make me rebandage that..Thanks!" Hearing Regina, the medic shifts, making room for the stretcher. "You better not be a werewolf,"she mumbles under her breath to the battered man.
6 Black Fleet Reavers arrives, following Viviana.
6 Black Fleet Reavers leaves, following Viviana.
Kael works in assistance with the healers, not offering forth any medicinal aid (because really that would be a tragedy), but rather to ensure the safety of that little group. Even to lend strength should it be needed. Mind you, he looks yonder to the other cluster going in after whatever is present. Is he grimacing a little bit more every time someone says werewolf? Absolutely.
One thing to be said about Amund is that he's patient. Very patient. As Gael is shoved at him, he braces for the impact, letting Ras have his running start while he watches; not for the warehouse, but, it seems, what surrounds it. At the very last moment when Gael tries to take hold of him, he lashes out with his free hand and smacks it at the much taller individual's sternum, pushing him out of the way roughly. "If that one is acting out, what are the odds there are others nearby?"
After having said her piece, Nova stays off on the side lines, not really doing anything else just yet, mostly observing. If Tarik is in range, she gives his hand a squeeze. And she gives Sir Flop a pet on his ears.
Poppy looks at Thea with a head tilt. "Surely you aren't serious? Werewolves are just fairy stories, right?" She looks to the injured man and likely clinging to her hope. "He's just gotten really really lucky."
With Rukhnis leading the way, splints, stretchers, etcetera soon make their way over to Sunniva and all the other medics, borne in the hands of clinic staff and Rukhnis herself. Once there she too leans over to pass her dark gaze over the severely battered man in quick inspection, but she doesn't appear to be inclined to get in the way of everyone who was there first.
It can barely be heard over the clamor outside, but someone speaks within the warehouse, calm, quiet, rather far back. "We can hear you."
A second voice, female, speaks immediately after. "We can smell you."
Drake checked willpower at difficulty 15, rolling 12 higher.
"Curse my fucking mouth." Amund mutters under his breath.
"Most women say I smell good!" Drake shouts back into the warehouse. Yeah he doesn't miss a beat or get shaken by that comment.
"Who's your friend, Tolv?" Orelia asks, doing her best to keep her voice light and friendly despite her caution.
Izanagi, an Imperial Guard, Ami, an Imperial bureaucrat arrive, following Jadara.
Sophie's face is drawn and worried, but she forces a little smile for Lena and reaches a hand to steady her as she is bumped into. "You're fine." She says kindly. Then her attention returns to Poppy momentarily, "Perhaps he was just lucky." Those words are punctuated by another kind smile. "Still, be on guard." When Poppy speaks to Thea Sophie sighs. "They aren't fairy stories, Poppy, and we may very well have more patients soon, if they insist upon going in there with swords."
Izanagi, an Imperial Guard, Ami, an Imperial bureaucrat leave, following Jadara.
Ras seems to realize that a lot of people shouting at Tolv might not be the best way to handle this. He starts to move back a step, shaking his head, and shifts his weight from side to side as if he isn't sure what he can do, given the fact that he can't fight with a broken arm -- and then those voices in the warehouse, using a plural to identify themselves, makes him back up even more. "It ain't Tolv," he murmurs suddenly, and continues to retreat backwards as if he's going to do that all the way out to the street.
Kalani stiffens slightly, angling a look at Insaya, "The singing is breaking down?" she makes those five words into a low voiced question, not that it's going to be heard over the noise of the crowd, not really. She shifts the package of books, again, from one hand to the other, "I didn't see a reference to werewolves in .. I bet it needs to be updated," still speaking in that low voice as, again, the books get moved to her left hand and the satchel is slung around so that it's at her back, not her side, freeing her right hand with that movement. "Well, that's charming, I mean," Kalani glances around at the crowd then back to the doorway then back to Tiye, "not everyone has ready access to soap and clean water."
Luckily not for Amund, but himself, Gael's in no need to truly hold onto the famed Sword to remain on his feet, so when his hand's swatted aside there's no true offense in his hard, and - what's that? - smirking expression. "Oh, ho-ho-ho, sorry there, knight-boy," Gael grumbles passingly, turning, facing the warehouse once more. Insaya slinks by, and sure enough, the confessor trails after her as faithful as her shadow, hooded and inconsequential.
Reigna nods to Rukhnis as she approaches and when they get the man out of the way she looks back to Kael apologetically. "I did not know this was going to happen. I need to stay if they need healers." She glances at those entering the warehouse and cringes. "They are heading... WHY are you guys going into a dark warehouse!? It is a warren in there!"
Thea eyes Poppy,"I'm not. No." But she pauses--her briefly turning toward the warehouse. When Rukhnis arrives, Thea nods toward her. "Want to help get him on? He's a bit--I don't know. But he's heavy." When Sophie speaks, Thea thanks her, asking Poppy,"I know Bonespire has some messed up things. And you're questioning werewolves?" Then she slowly realizes. "Who the hells is in there with him?!"
Tanith hisses at Ras. "Rabbit!" She's holding her hand at him, like an older sibling might to a younger, not taking a step closer to the building but ready to grab Ras and yank him away. The female voice in the shadows has the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. "C'mon!"
Hamish looks to Tanith. "Rabbit?" He looks back at the warehouse, eyebrows raising as Ras begins to back out of the building. "This is going to go badly, and I have to think that a bunch of people running into a tremendously situation won't be the series of actions that saves the day."
Nodding to Drake, Theophania takes a few steps back; this is a problem that is probably not her problem. It's entirely possible that it may eventually become something *adjacent* to the type of problem she can deal with... but for now, she'll do as she's told and hang back. She looks to some of the other... less-effective sorts here, taking a deep breath and trying to remain calm in the presence (albeit still a ways away) of apparently-werewolves.
"I'm Inquisitor Korka Glynn, formerly of the Telmarch," The dark haired and kind of annoyed looking woman calls out, "If you need safe passage, you need to tell me now. Otherwise there are a whole bunch of would-be heroes out here just hoping you've got nefarious intentions."
"Really Reigna, please do not apologize," says Kael, and to be fair, he is shooting a baffled look at his wife. His attention is by now torn between her and the group of healers near and yonder in the direction of the warehouse.
"What big ears you have," Insaya says glibly. And rubs a spot over her eyebrow. To the voices inside, she says, probably stinking of fear. "You KNOW that he's worn out his use for you! For all of you! You've done everything asked of you, and He will STILL kill you, just to remove any chance of you ever getting free."
The curvy culler seems to slightly snarl and takes a protective step in front of Samira.
: claims that
Aswin shakes his head at how this is being handled by those ones so eager to draw weapons and walk into that warehouse, then he scoffs at the way the way peaceful resolutions seem to be dismissed. Stepping back to the side of one of the nearby buildings, he simply finds a shadowed place to stand and watch what happens.
Lena nods and has likewised reached to steady Sophie, but drops her hands. She looks to the unfolding situation and tips up on her toes, trying to see, "What happened?" While up, she peers around, a stitch of worry in her tone, "Has anyone seen Auda?"
Rukhnis twitches a little at those very disturbing voices from the warehouse, and she casts a quick look back towards the spot where she last saw Ras. For a moment she looks almost a little panicky when she doesn't see him, but after a moment she realizes that's because her street rat friend has gone unexpectedly /backwards/ away from the warehouse. Letting out a long breath, she glances back to her fellow healers, offering them a small nod before returning her attention to the medical matter at hand. With another small nod to Thea, she says, "We should be able to lift him carefully on while keeping his head and limbs more or less stabilized, if enough of us do it together carefully."
Poppy looks at Sophie with noticable shock. "What? Huh." She scoffs at Thea with a faint grin. "Mammoths aren't exactly fairy tales? Though there are some wild stories I suppose." Working now with a touch more caution, she listens to the orders from those who are her superiors.
"Oh, there are a /lot/ of things in the world that the Compact seems to have forgotten," Tiye remarks to Kalani, her tone faintly amused. Her attention remains firmly on the warehouse, however, and despite her curious demeanor there's an odd tension to the woman... like an animal prepared to pounce -- or perhaps to flee. "But if there's really a /werewolf/ -- or two -- in there, I'd imagine they can smell people like a hunting dog would. You'd have to think they don't have the same sort of noises that humans do, hm?"
Rukhnis' return draws a brief glance from Sunniva, and a genuine smile flickers across her face. "Thank you," she offers appreciatively. Once the man is lifted and moved off towards the Clinic, Sunniva reaches a hand out to lay it against Reigna's arm. "Go home; you are clearly exhausted, Marquessa. I will stay at the clinic and help." She glances towards the warehouse when the eerie voices call back, and she shudders slightly before starting to move back and away from the open door.
A different female voice, a little louder, if every bit as calm, says, "So many." And another, male, but not the same as before, "We can /smell/ you, humans." A third female voice, "Why?"
Samira scowls, rising on tiptoe as she tries to peek around Acacia, her eyes riveted to the warehouse. "Shit. What exactly are we dealing with here?" she mutters as she hears the disturbing voices. She shakes her head, voice dropping low to continue a hushed conversation with the other Culler.
Ras retreats out of the warehouse, glancing towards Amund quickly, and then to Tanith.
"Very good point," and Kalani is shuffling the stuff she's holding and tugs one of the books from the tied stack free and balances it on the top, taking a charcoal pencil from one hip pocket as she flips open the blank book. "You think their sense of smell is better than humans, like that of a hunting dog?" she wonders of Tiye, ignoring - somewhat - the jostling crowd around where they're standing. Or, more accurately, letting it fade into the background as she starts making short-hand notes on the blank page. Her eyes flick toward the warehouse opening and she commences a rough sketch of what it looks like, nothing but straight lines and general impression.
"Apologies, reflexes." Amund flexes his hand and inclines his head to Gael in a sign of contrition that may or may not be sincere. His focus is upon the warehouse. He's going to make his way into the warehouse, paying close attention to the trail of destruction. "I'm guessing torches are completely out of order, as of right now." People are talking. The knight considers that and moves to sheathe his blade -- partially, for now. He might learn something out here.
Lena tips down from peering about, face ashen behind her mask of freckles standing out more sharply as she pales. She swallows. Swallows again. "Nnnh."
"Hmm." Tiye hums under her breath, eyes narrowing as she considers the warehouse. "This is an awful lot of very squishy humans, and it sounds like it might be more than one werewolf in there. That's a combination which could end very, very badly if people aren't careful..." She trails off, her gaze darting over to Kalani for just a moment before returning to that shattered doorway. "Well, it would make sense, wouldn't it? If they're half wolf, I mean."
"HOW MANY ARE THERE?!" Thea is seriously concerned as she helps get the man on the stretcher with Rukhnis and Sunniva. "It sounds like their's several in there and all of you going in..It's like a fucking death trap,"she tells the group. Yes. She said it. "I think you may be biting off more than you can chew right now..."
Guarded, Acacia stands firmly in place, leaning aside to exchange words with Samira now and again. "No fucking clue, but I don't like it," she replies with a quiet bristle. The redhead looks Rowenova's way and gives a sharp whistle to get her attention and beckon the the wolfscout over.
"Might ask you the same," Drake replies to the voices in the darkness. Now he's trying to figure out how many there are, just as they're smelling for him. Ras says none of them are Tolv, but he didn't really know Tolv enough to catch the difference. But there's at least three. Maybe more. "Though I think I know most of it by now. Much of the shape of it. The rest is details. But as much damage as you could do... to all of us here. Every one. I think you are nothing but the fingernail clippings of your Master, just as disposable. Unless you're cut off?"
Poppy looks over at Lena with a worried glance. "Are you alright?"
Tarik raises his right eyebrow slightly at Drake, "Watch your anger. Rowenova has had a lot of experience dealing with them, and she possesses a lot of knowledge. It is not preaching if someone is trying to keep someone safe." Tarik gaze turns to the warehouse door, "I am Tarik Morien." Tarik steps forward in the crowd, "Cousins, I believe you only have a couple of options. I must admit that my patience with salvation has become limited since you attack Shard, so I think you should surrender at once to the Inquisition."
Sophie smiles gratefully to Lena and nods her head. "This situation could turn dangerous at any moment. Please keep your guard up, and be prepared to protect yourself as best you can, just in case." She looks down at Poppy as she still ministers to the injured dockworker. Her eyes move to his and she says to him, "If you are.. one of them.." She shakes her head and she murmurs quietly, "We can help you." One hand slides around Lena as she starts to look ashen. "I've got you." She says quietly to the woman.
"Just trying to get a picture of what's going on," Orelia answers. She continues her careful entry into the warehouse with Drake close behind. She turns to the knight and mouths 'Cut off?'
Tanith grabs Ras' hand as soon as he's within reach, taking him and putting a hand on Hamish's arm to get him away from the warehouse too, the woman unnerved. "Maybe we should get out of here," she says to both of them, eyes casting to Rukhnis to meet her gaze. "Such calm from folk in a building, surrounded ..." She shakes her head. "Ain't right." Then, she's snagging a kid in messenger livery, speaking to him quickly and stuffing a few coins in his hands before shooing him off.
When Tarik says what he does, she cannot help but to smile a bit before then stepping into the crowd with him. Sir Flop is with them, too, and they come within speaking range of the Cullers and Ulbrans in the mix out here, too. "Goodwoman Acacia." says she in a quiet way.
Lena eases away from the warehouse, looks to Poppy and Sophie, head shaking. She dashes her wrist across her mouth, "Yeah, fine." She swallows. She blinks at Sophie's admonition, mouth falling open a bit and now her gaze turns towards routes away, margins of the throng, measuring distance, bodies between her and the unsettling voices.
Moving next to Kael, Reigna tugs on his arm. "I would prefer if you not go in there. I have a bad feeling about this." Reigna backs away slowly towards the Clinic. She glances to Sunniva and says, "That is kind, but my duty is here."
Ras gives Hamish a puzzled look as the Archlector is his fellow-dragged-away-from-a-warehouse-by-Tanith victim. He seems vaguely grateful for the barkeep's contact, though, and as he moves after her there's a steadying of his expression and renewed resolve in his eyes.
3 Thrax Guards, 2 Thrax Elite Guards, Lady Teonia Redreef, Aryka Wyrmfang, Marquessa Pudding, a doughy dog arrive, following Sorrel.
Kalani flips back to the first page, having braced herself where she's standing, feet apart, as much paying attention to what's happening as speaking quietly with Tiye. "Squishy. Yes," a half breath of laugh there, "we really are, aren't we? In comparison to a lot of things. And half wolf would sort of mean that they don't have all access to the strengths and traits of a wolf, so part of the mind has to be still functioning on a human level, that's either a handicap or it's a boost. I wonder which." She looks up from the surface of the page, starting to recognize those in the crowd as well as she does so.
"Rowenova," Acacia greets the nothern woman her eyes hard on the warehouse. "You said you knew how to deal with this? I'd like to hear more, if you you'd be willing."
Insaya just stays by the doorway. She moves to allow the VERY SMART people out. And she tries to indicate the sides of the building. "I am sure you can. Things are very fragrant down here. It's the damp." With a deep breath, she calls in, "We will not harm you if you don't harm us. We'll protect you to the best of our ability. WE want you to be free. WE want you to have your vengeance, if that's what you want." She shakes her head a little. "Sing! Go ahead. Let us hear you?"
Poppy nods and gives Lena a little smile before her eyes turn back to the patient and she asks, "If he is one, why was he shoved so hard into a wall?"
Rukhnis just shakes her head at Thea with an odd combination of both worry and resignation, then looks back over to Tanith and does the same to her. But then she simply moves into place to help keep the stretcher steady as people larger and stronger than she is presumably do the main work of conveying it to the clinic. Before she disappears in through the door, presumably for the purpose of being smart and commanding and regal and knowledgeable at the on-duty staff of the clinic, she looks back to the warehouse again, shakes her head one more time for good measure, and sighs.
Korka gestures to Insaya like, it's your show. And then she's moving around the warehouse to take an inventory of the ins and outs that might be along the sides and back. But it probably just looks like she's wandering off because she's bored or something.
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Ras before departing.
Nova quickly pens a quick note which she sends off with the next person. Then, she whispers back to Acacia, Samira, and Tarik.
As figureheads depart the gloomy depth of the warehouse, Gael's guardedness loosens. He reaches out, too, to pull at a fade of cloth from Insaya's hem to warrant her attention, he then leans in closer, hushing in her ear a quick direction before pulling back, standing diagonal to her within a black frame of a wall while wary of potential hostility. The ceiling, the inside trenches and just about all the ruined debris scattered about, all he scans. And all he's wary of.
Samira stands beside Acacia, alert and tense. Rowenova receives a nod here and there after a hasty murmured exchange, the younger Culler's expression solemn and perhaps faintly dubious.
A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Rowenova before departing.
Sunniva doesn't argue, merely inclining her head in silent acceptance of the reply. There is respect in the gesture directed at Reigna. "A very bad feeling," she agrees quietly. Backing out of immediate range, Sunniva disappears into the clinic just behind the man on the stretcher with the broken bones.
The interior of the warehouse isn't terribly surprising once Amund steps in. Shattered crates, smashed shelves, all sorts of good rolling over the floor. The voices are coming from the back of the building. "Morien," another male, though this one does sound a little like Tolv. "Morien, Morien." There's a long pause. And then one of the female voices speaks again, "Why?" And then another male voice. "Why?" The first male voice. "Why?"
Tolv's voice, or what sounds like it, says, "Sing?" And then there's a cackle that /isn't/ his voice, it's female again.
Thea tells rukhnis quietly,"I'll be back. I need to get some more supplies." Her eyes worried as she departs.
Eloise, a consummate professional, 2 Harthall House Guards leave, following Sunniva.
Finn the large Northern hunting dog with icy blue eyes, Rocco, the rascally assistant leave, following Thea.
Connal, a Northern Wolfhound, Honeymare arrive, following Rosalind.
Tanith gets The Wheel's Justice, a diamondplate one-handed axe from a worn leather satchel with a wide woven strap with a green and yellow geometric pattern.
A messenger elbows through the square to Ras, and he nods back to the fellow's murmur with a grim, "Yeah," but Tanith's still holding his hand. When he hears Tolv's voice from inside the building, he starts to turn again, eyes widening in confused alarm.
"Sing?" Orelia echoes. She looks back as Amund follows them into the warehouse. "Is that a request?"
There are a lot of people here, but Sorrel is pretty good at cutting through a crowd, considering that she's tall and has a serious entourage of house guards with her. She heads in the direction of the Inquisitors with a serious look on her face, seeking Insaya specifically.
"May not be more than one of them," Drake says, looking back. "Many voices in one throat. That's how he operates, yes?" He looks over his shoulder, looking at Ras first, as if for confirmation. "You should come in. You still have the best chance. Just consider me backup." But he's going to go in, nodding to Orelia. "It seems to help. I'm not much for it."
Rosalind comes running after getting a message and looks for Rowenova,"Hey Nova! Where are you?!" Woah! What's with all the people?! Spotting her, after weaving in and out, she finally asks,"What'd you need!
"Yeah, this is totally fine, and absolutely not unsettling or creepy at /all/," Tiye observes dryly, in a tone of voice which suggests it is /very much/ all of those things.
Ras checked perception + investigation at difficulty 40, rolling 21 higher.
Tanith manages to get her axe out of her satchel, but she sets it on her hip one-handed. It's Ras's alarm that sets off the rest of hers, and she squeezes him, whispering quietly, gaze intent on him.
Hamish moves back from the building along with Tanith and Ras, though his attention is on Korka, to whom he is giving some serious get the hells back looks.
"Not at all, no," Kalani agrees with another quiet exhale that's almost, but not really, a laugh. But it's like whistling in the dark. "I sure hope singing isn't going to be required, I can't hit a note on key to save my life."
ras=All of those voices /sound/ like they're coming from the exact same direction inside. None of them seem any closer or further away. He could probably locate them if he went inside, but going inside is...possibly not the wisest thing to do.
Kael shakes his head to Reigna, standing his ground where he is. "Go ahead back to the clinic if you wish - that is likely wisest," he murmurs to her quietly, frowning. There is an escort provided, given that the distance is not too far, but he stays outside. Just assessing the general layout, the positioning of the warehouse, and the numerous people standing nearby.
Korka is back! Cause she's not there, she's walking around the warehouse looking for alternate exits and entrances.
Insaya is listening to Gael and preparing to respond to him, when she sees Sorrel, and pulls back sharply. She shouts into the opening, "Yes. You're many, you keep telling us."
Ras simply replies, "Yeah," towards Drake. He's caught sight of Sorrel, and doesn't move from Tanith's side -- watching the Thraxian princess with reserved hope.
Insaya says quickly to Gael and Korka, "Out. Cover her. Nothing and no one gets close to her," she says, indicating Sorrel.
Rosalind realizes why she was needed and blinks at Rowenova. "Oh." Her eyes drift up to the moon and back to Rowenova and Tarik. "Well I uh...I can try.."
Nova sends off a messenger which receives a reply. She nods with a sigh before then looking up, waving the letter. "Here!" says she to Rosalind before then telling Acacia and Samira, "Stand your ground. Stick together at all costs. Believe in yourself and those around us. Do not despair. Have hope."
Ras checked willpower at difficulty 20, rolling 4 higher.
Gael follows Insaya's gaze, his own narrow eyes doing the unthinkable and widening at Sorrel's presence. He doesn't quite say it, but verbalizes it through the subtle articulation of his lips: 'Spellsinger'. Then, he makes contact with Insaya's eyes with a tight stare, one that says more than a hundred words could. "Of course, Inquisitor." And so it is that like a curse, Gael arrives to Sorrel's side with his black hood and hostile gleam. Even if it's Sorrel protecting him more than the other way around, but no one needs to know that. "I've been led here to see you through this night, Princess Sorrel," he informs Sorrel very quietly upon arrival, his attention assertive of her immediate surroundings.
Reigna doesn't enter the Clinic, instead she stays next to Kael, eyes on the enfolding drama. And she waits, prepared to be needed.
Ras stiffens at something from Drake, and then looks to Tanith, muttering something to the barkeep as he glances across towards Sorrel being flanked by protecting Inquisitors.
Acacia growls softly and shakes her head. The redhead looks less than impressed. "That does not help," she returns bluntly and frowns a little more. "Fucking magic. Fucking secrets," she mutters lowly, her brown eyes darkening with frustration. A glance to Samira, "Steady on. You ken what to do, lass," she nods curtly to the younger woman, her Lower's accent thickening a little.
Despite Tiye's intent gaze on her warehouse and her borderline flippant remarks, there's a tension to her expression which suggests she isn't entirely happy. "I don't think he -- they? -- mean /our/ singing. But this is quite the standoff, isn't it? Sooner or later, something's going to break." A pause. "Hopefully it isn't all the people waiting out here." Especially as it, presumably, includes the ever-curious bard herself.
Amund studies the trails of destruction as a means to pinpoint a general location, other than 'further back'. He glances at Orelia, and Drake. "Don't go in too deep. One slip and they catch you alone." He's decided to remain just past the entrance, it seems.
Sorrel's arrival draws Sophie's gaze, and a smile touches her lips, perhaps the most genuine of the night. She lets out a quiet sigh of relief, and after squeezing Poppy's shoulder gently she finally moves toward the warehouse, and toward Nova. Once she approaches her she rests a hand on Nova's arm and gives her the same smile. She's relieved at Sorrel's arrival, for some reason. Still, her face is drawn. She lean in to whisper something to Rowenova.
Drake says something to Ras, but he's sticking to Orelia, primarily. Amund is right that they need to work together, in a group, rather than be split up.
Tanith listens to Ras, her expression serious. She nods up at him, a gesture: lead the way.
"I have Drake," Orelia says quietly back to Amund.
Briefly tucking the charcoal pencil behind one hear, Kalani extends her hand, sidelong, in greeting, "I'm Kalani. And I hope this ends peacefully, there do seem to be rather a lot of us outside and only, what, two or three voices coming from inside?"
Ras returns to those who are entering the warehouse, with Tanith nearby, and mutters something to them.
Poppy watches as the man is sent inside. Like Reigna and the others, she waits outside and checks her supplies, just in case. Even though Sophie's smile should calm her, it just makes her a touch more nervous.
Hamish looks between Tanith and Ras. "I'm about to be ditched, aren't I?"
"Tiye Moretti," the bard offers with a smile, turning to consider Kalani for a moment. "Bard and storyteller. And, at the moment, semi-professional gawker at strange events."
"Hi there," Sorrel says to Gael with a slightly amused smile that doesn't diminish the seriousness of her demeanor. "I'm Sorrel Thrax. Can you brief me on what's going on? I was looking for Insaya."
Nova tells Acacia and Samira, "I was serious about that first part because believing matters." She then turns to look to Sophie and gives her a squeeze upon her hand. She looks to her with a nod and then looks to Sir Floppington before she looks back to Tarik and nods his way, too.
Samira's dubious expression only grows more uncertain, but she lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug to Rowenova. "Alright, then. I'll try." Her gaze slides to Acacia as she straightens to full height and juts her chin out. "Got it." Her attention returns to the warehouse and those who are closer to it, her posture alert, ready to spring into action if need be. Doing what? It's likely even she doesn't know exactly what.
The interior of the warehouse has gone quiet again. The intrepid few who venture in see only one path of destruction; not straight, by any means, but just one. The voices were definitely coming from the rear...the right corner, perhaps.
"The Inquisitor is right inside, your highness," Gael there answers Sorrel, returning her smile with one of his own that wanes and seems, due to the levity of the moment, forced. Cordial. "A loud scream was heard here in the plaza some time ago, dockworkers were hurt. Now, it seems, the perpetrator - Tolv - is hiding inside here, and what we hear now are voices speaking through him. Inquisitor Insaya would know more, she's right past the archway heading in. We must beware -- there is great danger lurking."
Drake is wrong that Amund is right. They all need to split for sure, get the everliving fuck out of here. And Lena does just that, ducking her head and moving out fast.
"Tolv, my name is Orelia," she says into the quiet. "Can you tell me what it is you need? We want to help you."
After speaking to the fighters in the warehouse, Ras nods to something Orelia mutters back, and leaves to approach Sorrel and the inquisitors. He comes closer to Gael, in particular, and nods. "Can you hurry, Sorrel Thrax?" he asks, after the confessor's explanation. "Go in and sing? They're all gonna back you up."
Insaya is scared, but she keeps talking right at the entrance. She tries to keep the pack talking. Talk is better than ripping and tearing and blood spatter and the moving of secret things, but it's not going to last forever. "You hear it in yourself alllll the time, don't you? The singing? The only problem is... unless you can think for yourselves and CHOOSE, it's an echo chamber. No one should hold your leash! Wolves should not be sheep! So sing, let us hear you!" She is talking to the folks inside, right? But she is cursing quietly under her breath.
"Abyssal werewolves -- or one werewolf speaking in different voices -- smashed into the warehouse, and are talking about smelling people. Huge crowd gawking at the situation and some people thinking about going inside. All of which will totally end well." Despite the sarcastic words, Tiye's tone is bright as she 'helpfully' calls this explanation out in answer to a query heard from somewhere in the crowd.
"Believing what? That I have a issue in my backyard? Aye, I can fucking see that," Acacia replies the lack of information seeming to make the redhead bristle more. "It would be fucking nice to know what the abyss is going on and just what we're supposed to believe," she offers mostly to herself before turning to nod to Samira. "Good lass," she winks, a flicker of protective pride riding in her eyes as her hand slides to her blade.
Tanith gives Ras a LOOK. "'They'?" she echoes, eye twitching.
Rosalind blinks then"Oh! It's Tolv?!" Rosa hurries over near the warehouse. She calls into the warehouse, a smile as she calls out,"Hey Tolv! It's Rosa! How are you?" The Ravenseye is totally going to be chattering away to him while he's in there. Not sure who else in there. "I wrote you, you know..."
"Amund and everybody," clarifies Ras, giving Tanith a bewildered blink. He's obviously not the best xplainer.
Despite everything, okay and probably because of everything, Kalani actually does chuckle this time at Tiye's words. Heck, all of the words. "Nice to meet you Tiye, semi-professional gawker, bard, /and/ expert at summarizing the situation," she exhales a chuckle. Again. Adding a few more notes to what she already has down.
"Alright, well. I don't know what I can do, but I would be wary of attacks," Sorrel says as she moves carefully towards Insaya, apparently with a bunch of backup. "Wolf Adepts are no joke." The werewolves might not be singing, but as she approaches the warehouse, the bard princess does start to sing, her hand on the hilt of her sword. It's a soothing lullaby, soft and gentle and sweet.
Reigna mutters, "They ... all mad. Absolutely ... ... ... in ... Have they ... ... of self preservation? Draw ... out into the ... ... than fight ... cluttered darkness! But nooooo. Off they ... ... am going to be patching them up ... days."
"I'm backing him up," says Drake, who is clearly tense, but... not drawing his weapon either. "Do we need some light?"
Gael goes stiff on Ras as he nears Sorrel's vicinity, until realizing his face; his being, clothes and all, gleaming him from the crowd rather quickly. So he eases down again, gives a firm nod of the head, but bothers a brief moment to hush a quick thing into his side of the head before slipping assertively after Sorrel, caring for her whole left flank protectively.
Nova migrates through the crowd, doing so until she can be off to the side where Rosalind is whilst still watching wherever Tarik might choose to go.
Tanith renews her grip on Ras and tugs at him, trying to get him away from the singing business, grumbling at him. Then- "C'mon, lets give them space then, if we don't need to be so close." Her free hand has her axe out but it's low, ready to use but not brandished.
An entirely different voice speaks this time, "Oh. Again." And then there's the sound of something heavy hitting something made of wood, because everyone, inside and out, can hear it practically explode into splinters. Those inside catch a glimpse of exactly that, if not the culprit just yet. And then Tolv's voice, "Come inside."
Rosalind is well---near the other people by the warehouse. Chattering away. "Hey Tolv. Who else is there? Did you make new friends? That's good right? Do they have names too? I can them Tolv two and three if you want.."There's a slight grin to herself as she says that. But then he's--talking! "Nevermind.."
Acacia mutters, "I'm so ... sick of half answers. Poxy bloody ... ... it."
Ras leans a little away from Gael with the shadow of a wry and awkward smile ghosting across his face. He doesn't whisper anything back, and turns to follow the Thraxian princess and her entourage of guardians. But then Tanith's tugging, and he seems to hear the truth in her words, letting himself back up with the barkeep.
Tarik heads into the warehouse holding on to something on his chest as he quietly mumbles to himsell a pray.
It probably hasn't been easy for Rukhnis to keep herself inside the clinic helping Sunniva and others tend to the injured dock workers for as long as she has. When she emerges after some time it must be because she's judged the patients' condition to be such that everyone back in the clinic can handle everything, but even then she lingers not far from the door, as if unsure from which direction her services will be called for next. She peers intently off down the street towards the warehouse, looking deeply anxious.
Insaya puts out a hand as a spacer. Anything going at Sorrel has to and will go through her first from the front. She listens at first, trying to hum harmony, though it is mostly to keep her from weeing herself. She interrupts herself to says to those others nearby, "The poo is about to strike the windmill sails. They want *her* dead," she indicates Sorrel, "and the Traitor wants them all dead, and all of us. Just so we're clear." she says.
Drake cautiously, and trying to keep Orelia and Ras in his sight, advances in further. Yeah, that's kind of crazy, but he's doing it slowly and carefully, and also peering around things to see what in that corner he can see, if anything.
As soon as Tarik enters the warehouse, Rowenova moves right inside after him, gripping at Rosa's shoulder and bringing her along with them, too, if let.
Reigna mutters, "You ... right. ... ... help the ... try ... clear the ... out of the area. Shall we?"
A harness of creases snap across the length of Gael's neck once the violent crash of wood explodes orotundly across the room. He maneuvers in front of Sorrel within her lullaby, arms x-shaped before him in protective overlap, so that they may take the brunt of splinters flying to them should there be any. But there's none, and Gael's arms dwindle to his sides, already looking agitated. Gasping. Reeling. Finding a brink in his exhausting sanity with all the unnatural hints abounding.
"We do need light, best if some helpful people get those doors for us to let some in if we don't quite rush to get it ourselves." Amund points out, his focus upon the right side of the warehouse for a brief moment; he decides to behold the wider picture instead. He nods to Insaya. "The priority is to protect the Princess. Form around."
Sir Floppington is there to back up Nova and Tarik, too.
These people think they're going in without her. Nope nope and Nope. But she feels Nova take her anyway, and she gratefully smiles at her. Rosa murmrus to Nova, quietly,"Thank you!"
"Again what?" Orelia asks Tolv. She gives Amund a nod though.
"I think I've heard a few stories that go this way. With the ominous thing in the pitch dark space offering, 'Come inside.' to the hapless protagonist," Tiye muses. Almost as an afterthought, she adds, "Most of those stories don't end particularly well for the one accepting the offer."
Poppy is biting her nail when she overhears Reigna. Sort of. She too excuses herself quietly. "Should any harm befall these people send a messenger and I'll return. It's silly to stand here and be a ready meal for someone." She gives a brief nod to those within earshot before moving back out of the commons.
Kalani jumps, visibly, the charcoal pencil in her hand nearly snapping before she exhales a small sound, a calming-down sort of breath. Her attention is again riveted to the opening, the warehouse, the sounds coming from within. And then .. "Ohh," Kalani's voice is quite soft, "to be able to sing like that," she says in a voice full of quiet but deeply felt envy.
Mr Snuffles the bumbling hedgehog, Barnacle, a young silver hound leave, following Poppy.
Hamish squats down and lets a spider scuttle onto his palm. When he gets back to his feet (with no few complaints about his back and knees) he looks to the spider and says, "So, anything interesting going on in there?" He waits a moment, then nods, "Yes, that sounds like a very delicious bug, but is there anything else?" Another moment, then, "Okay, anything not related to bugs you've eaten recently?" And then, "I don't know why I thought this might be useful."
Samira scowls, continuing to hold a hushed conversation with Acacia while she awaits whatever may unfold. Her eyes are fastened intently upon the warehouse, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
Tanith is gentle but insistent, hefting her axe in her hand, higher, drawing Ras backwards with her towards Hamish, and Rukhnis. You know, that's a great idea. She angles herself as she walks backwards toward the clinic, glancing over her shoulder at the Eurusi woman as she keeps her hand firmly in Ras's. "You ever have children, Rabbit, I expect you to name one after me," she mumbles at him, smirking. As they pass Hamish squatting on the ground, Tanith stares at him. "Bro-...Blessed Hamish, wanna follow us?"
Tolv stands there, half turned away from those venturing into the warehouse, visible now that they've drawn close. He has one hand raised in front of his face, watching as several cockroaches crawl over his arm. There are others around his feet, though they skitter away as others draw near. He's expressionless, and when he turns toward them it's slow and unhurried, and entirely unthreatening, up until he suddenly smashes sideways into the wall as if something invisible thrust him against it. "/Hah/." He squashes one of the roaches into the wall, fingers splayed, and tips his head at the dead insect when it falls away.
Gael checked willpower at difficulty 20, rolling 4 higher.
Sophie presses closer to the entrance of the warehouse, though she shows no intention of going inside. None at all. She is carrying her beloved lantern, the one she almost never goes anywhere without. She moves to follow Rowenova. She watches Rosalind carefully as she moves slightly closer, and then looks to Rowenova nervously, still, she follows behind, carrying that lantern.
Acacia's looks less than amused, through a brow lofts as Hamish starts talking to spiders. The redhead growls something under her breath and draws in a long heavy breath. A glance to Samira and another shake of her head.
Orelia instinctively tightens her grip on the handle of her blade, but does not draw. "Tolv?" she says his name a little softer.
"...Bugs," Drake whispers, as he sees Tolv fighting the unseen thing. It's like at the Fox... he thinks, and his hand tenses near his sword, but he still finds the will not to draw it. "Hey there. We're... here to help." A pause. "Sorry about, eh..." Drake taps at his sword, and then he taps at his arm where he was clawed, and then, a bit awkward-sheepishly... "No hard feelings, I promise."
Hamish lets the little spider sit up on his shoulder and nods to Tanith. "Sure, I'll follow you." He glances to his shoulder, "What?" Then rolls his eyes and says, "I'm sorry that you missed seeing a cockroach get squashed." He narrows his eyes, "I don't see how that's my fault." He shakes his head and moves after Tanith. "Symonesse talks to trees, you know. Do you think they complain this much?"
Reigna nods to Kael and stays close to him as they begin to work around the square, working in tandem with the Guard trying to get the innocent bystanders to get out of dodge before it is too late.
Rosalind checked composure + empathy at difficulty 15, rolling 19 higher.
Ras squints at Tanith, then at Hamish. For some reason, he doesn't look surprised to see the Archlector chatting with a spider, and then tries to let go of the barkeep's hand to close the distance to Rukhnis at the clinic. He mutters something under his breath to the Eurusi woman.
"Oooh, fuck," Gael reacts to the view of Tolv's body flying under the violence inertia of something intangible and into the wall, his voice fading off into a softly-voiced gasp of consternation. "He flew," the confessor realizes; "He flew," he needs repeat, eyes teetering with blinking movement. He holds his ground, somehow, at Sorrel's side. But he's anxious and outwardly perturbed.
Tanith lets Ras go, mumbling at Hamish as the rabbit runs to the stormbird.
Tanith grimaces at something at something Hamish mutters back.
"Whoa," Kalani exhales that word, more than actually /saying/ it and takes a half step back, startled, then regains it with rising curiosity. She also shudders at the sight of the roaches skittering, shoulders lifting with the intensity of the shudder.
Rukhnis, for her part, is clearly ready to leap into action with further supplies or triage the moment either should become necessary, but there's a deeply sad look in her eyes as she stares off towards the warehouse, and it doesn't go away even when Ras approaches. But she reaches out towards the street rat, laying her hand on his arm as she speaks quietly back to him.
Rosalind frowns as she sees Tolv fight off the unseen things. And his body flying. Wait. FLYING?! She tugs Nova briefly,"I want to--hug him or something!" Rosalind really really wants to reach for him, but talks to him getnly,"Hey Tolv..."
Nova quietly speaks, "If that is what you feel compelled to do, Rosa." Then, Nova narrows her gaze at the scene before them before she looks to Tarik.
Tolv's fist jerks, and now /that/ smashes into the wall, leaving quite the dent behind, before he shoves back up straight. "Hello," he says. Except it's not just his voice that says it. It's the three female voices. The other male voices. There's more than six mixed together. "You want us to sing?" He inhales, then exhales. There's a slight golden tint to his dark eyes. "We can sing. I can sing. We. Are. Singing." Another exhale, softer this time. "So many humans."
"I thought I smelled something funny going on up here..." drawls a voice from just off to the side of the crowd. There is no flashy entrance. The Cardian Tribune is just suddenly... there. Petraea Livy leans against a stack of crates, head tilted as she seems to be listening to the chatter around her, but her hazel eyes hold a distant look as if she's listening for something else. Her eyes narrow and she stands up straighter to roll her shoulders, as if preparing..
Insaya observes the insects with a grim expression, and pulls the draws of her hood. It is the closest thing she has to being determined. "Slaves will always rise. You'll keep squeezing and squeezing, and trying to choke them, and trying to tie them down. But you're NOT a god. You're always going to miss. You're going to LOSE." She is not addressing Tolv. "Leave the boy alone."
Korka is just out behind the warehouse watching the back door. Sometimes she looks up at the sky to see how many stars might be out. Other times she counts the rats that run by. Mostly she examines her fingernails and looks bored.
Rosalind blinks at Nova, but--she nods her head faintly. "Yeah,"her voice faint.
"Hm." Drake's mouth flattens. "...Hello, ladies. Do I know any of you?" he asks Tolv. "I meet a lot of women, so you'll forgive me." He squints at the man, speaking with all those voices. "...Are any of you Reva? Or is it still the way he makes you all give up all your names when you get joined to it?" He takes a slow breath. "Funny way of getting intel, eh? Just sending in a limb to do it and send it back?"
Ras is leaning closer to Rukhnis, murmuring something, but seems to distantly recognize Petraea's voice. His gaze snaps towards her with a cautious tensing of his frame, and he shoots a worried glance towards the warehouse.
There's a slight snort and a shrug something said and Acacia replies to Samira with a whisper. A flask is drawn and offered to Samira as the redhead turns back to watch things unfold. "Good think I come prepared," she notes with a slight grin. A glance of interest is offered to Petraea as the woman prepares for something...
Gael gives Insaya an almost quizzical look of confusion once her declarations ring across the warehouse, yet everything's too serious; too dark, for anything more than that. He tightens the last lace of gauze around the knuckles of his left hand and slips a balancing right foot behind him, gaining footing for what's to come after Sorrel, determined to be the last line of defense for her safety. Even if that 'coming' is an invisible tether that'll probably clothesline him into a wall dead before arrival. Any time now.
After what Rosalind says, "Let's do it." says Nova. Then, she moves forward, doing so with some determination.
Orelia glances at Drake briefly, then locks her gaze back on Tolv. She watches his eyes for any hint that he intends to do more than dent the wall.
Sophie glances toward Petraea at the sound of her voice. Sophie's standing near the warehouse, but she's not inside, and shows no inclination to actually go inside there. She gives Petraea a brief nod of greeting, and then returns her attention to the doorway. She rocks on her heels and lets her free hand slide into the pocket of her robes.
"Poke the angry werewolf? Check," Tiye murmurs to Kalani, trying hard to listen in to the words from inside the warehouse. "Taunt the archfiend? Also check. If I were a gambling sort, I feel like I'd be getting close to a winning hand on 'this will go bad'. By all rights, I ought to leave..." And yet, she doesn't. Instead, her attention shifts to the Cardian Tribune, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Potentially get a foreign diplomat killed by provoking a possibly-insane werewolf? Also check." A pause, and then she glances to Kalani before adding, "I admit, I didn't have that last one on my list."
With her hand still on Ras's arm, Rukhnis looks just noticeably distressed as she murmurs back to him. But then when he suddenly tenses she frowns sharply at him, and her brow furrows deeply at whatever he says to her next, her gaze flickering glancingly towards Petraea and away again.
Reigna approaches Petraea, "Excuse me, my lady, but there is some foolishness and evil afoot. Distance from this area might be best." The message is earnestly offered by Reigna, who it should be noted is keeping very close to Kael.
With the confirmation of Rowenova, Rosa steps forward and well-she wraps her arms Tolv in a friendly like hug. Because well--The man is SUFFERING! Who hugs a werewolf..Rosalind. That's who
Samira accepts Acacia's flask with a grateful upnod, taking a long swig before passing it back to her. "Wonder how long before they emerge?" she murmurs with a frown. Her eyes tug away from the warehouse, noting the other Culler's glance and curiously following her gaze toward the newly arrived Petraea.
Tanith catches Petraea's voice, recognizing it, recognizing her. She opens her mouth and raises her empty hand, but no sound issues from her, recognizing a preparation for conflict if she's ever seen one. "Uh..." she says eloquently under her breath, backing up closer to the clinic and trying to get Hamish behind her to bring him along. "Um."
And then Nova steps up to Tolv, too, attempting to do the same and then saying, "Easy there." as she gives him a bit of a rub on the back, maybe brushing away one of those bugs if she lives long enough. Group hug right up in here.
Sir Floppington is not so sure, but he knows when Nova makes up her mind that she does what she wants to do, so he gives it a try and moves to lean against the leg of the man who is suffering so much.
"You sure it isn't some insane version of bingo? Because you might have the winning card," Kalani says this, with a sidelong glance to Tiye and then the diplomat in question. "Or maybe she has the winning card," she gestures with the tip of the charcoal pencil to where Rosalind is - of all things - hugging the crazy man in question.
"Tolv!, Fight it." Tarik peers around for a moment, "She said she is singing. I think that means she might be calling others here."
Catching sight of Petraea when the Keaton pair venture closer to her area, Kael's brows furrow and his mouth sets into a thin line. There is most definitely deliberation afoot. That being said, his wife approaches, thus he dips his head low in acknowledgement of the woman. Kael takes up post vaguely triangular so he can keep an eye on both Petraea and Reigna.
Petraea glances to Tiye and gives her a beaming smile and a little tip of her head before she glances to Reigna and says, "I think whatever attacked a Prima on foreign soil and made a right good job of ripping up a few of your people is balancing his sanity on the head of a pin right now. Who do you think has a better chance of not getting killed if it snaps? You know what I got backing my play. What is backing theirs?" Petraea jerks her chin toward the crowd and then looks to Reigna once more with eyebrows lifted.
"Gall, spunk, and blind optimism," Tiye calls out helpfully in answer to Petraea. "So far as I can tell."
Rosalind tries plucking away some of the roaches with Nova. "You know this isn't how this works, right,"her northern accent thick and quiet. But she still hugs her friend. "Hey Tolv. I know you're still in there. I'm not even sure if you're a huggy person, so I mean..but obviously me and Nova are,"Rosa says as she pats his back still. Her words are genuine and sincere as she talks. Quiet..
"Keep steady." Amund mutters, some uncertainty in his tone at the clearly disgusting display of horrors he's witnessing firsthand. "That didn't look like flying to me." He looks to Insaya as she speaks, his expression darkening when he realizes the context of her words. His hand grips the hilt of his sword as his arm and legs tense; the closest hint he has to a defensive combat stance. His focus is solely on the possible threat ahead of him. He looks at Sorrel, nodding once. Ready for whatever may come.
"Am I?" asks a different, singular voice. Tolv drops his hand to his side. "Am I /really/?" His expression is blank again, but the voice itself is cold, almost mocking. "Are you sure you want me to leave him alone?" That yellowish-gold in Tolv's eyes grows a little bit more. And then two women are suddenly attempting to grab at him. Attempting. And then flying backwards a good fifteen feet into crates. Tolv still looks human, but he /snarls/, and that certainly does not /sound/ human.
80 inflicted and Rosalind is harmed for severe damage.
80 inflicted and Rowenova is harmed for severe damage.
"None of that sounds good," grunts Hamish at Tiye's response to Petraea, but then he's being dragged along by a bartender a foot shorter than he is and follows quickly enough. "Ow ow ow!"
Ras hears the crashing inside the warehouse while he's holding Rukhnis' hand. "Just protect Sorrel!" he shouts as loud as he can. "Let her sing!"
Gael checked willpower at difficulty 15, rolling 5 higher.
"Oh, that is precisely what I was calling the foolishness." Reigna says, shaking her head and then she looks back to Petraea. "Marquessa Reigna Keaton, my husband, Marquis Kael Keaton. Interesting time to meet, Tribune Livy." Reigna offers the woman a brief bow of her head.
The only sound from Nova is her smashing back into the varied crates along with the collateral damage. Strangely enough, she does not even yelp, but just lays right there. Sir Floppington rushes forth to check out whether she might be still okay. After 2 seconds, Nova lifts up one hand. "That was impressive." Though, she does not seem to be getting up anytime soon.
Drake wields Love's Sorrow, a Thorn-twined Blade.
Orelia wields A Siren Song.
Rukhnis flinches sharply as Ras belts out advice and admonishment right above her ear, though it doesn't make her relinquish the grip of her own hand on the street rat's. "What are they doing in there?" she mutters anxiously, a little louder than she'd been speaking before.
Drake pulls the sword the minute violence starts. It's reflex. But he doesn't lunge forward with it... he stands defensively, trying to get between Tolv, and the women who were just thrown backward. He swallows hard. "If there's any magic coming, it had best start now!" he shouts, his throat tight. "Ras...?"
"GUESS WHO'S NOT A GOD!" Sorrel starts singing loudly. "NEVER GONNA BE! NO! JUST A BETRAYER! A BIG OLD LOSER! NEVER GONNA BE A GOD!" It's not the catchiest tune, but it's a tune nonetheless.
Tiye winces at the noise, and she tenses again. "No. No, no no. Just... no." And then Sorrel begins to sing. "Fuck my /entire/ life," the bard mutters, tensing as she gazes at the warehouse.
When he hears the distant sound of blades being drawn, Ras looks as if he's reconsidering his choice to leave those in the warehouse to their own devices, as if his presence could've changed anything. But then, Sorrel's loud singing breaks through the rest of the noise, and some of his tension erodes as his forehead creases with anxiety.
A slight grin appears and another wink at something Samira says and Acacia happily surrenders her flask to her and Sam takes a swig. "Well, hopefully they won't burn the place down it feels like," she notes as half shrugs. "Who knows?" she muses back and offers the flask to someone else, being all neighborly and such.
Petraea's comments however catch the woman's attention. A toss of her head invites Samira to follow as she begins making her way towards the woman."Your pardon, but it would seem our little home has attracted something rather," Acacia asks with a glance to the warehouse and back. "Something a little out of the ordinary. You seem to be familiar with this. You wouldn't happen to be able to shed a little light on this situation for us? I hate to ask with all the hubbub, but ignorance in this situation isn't' bliss. It' would be nice to know what the abyss is going on."
Gael, witness once more to macabre and unfathomable power, chooses to stomp a protective step back as to avoid the two soaring bodies cruising violently across the torn domicile. "Hoo, shit," he whispers with bated breath, shock in his voice; a grip there seizing the backdrop of his throat so that his every few vowels are stiff, and waned.
There is a ringing song as Orelia draws her rose gold rubicund blade and holds it ready. She stays beside Drake while she waits to see how Tolv responds to Sorrel's song.
Rosalind flies back and winces against the crates "Obviously that's not working,"she tells Nova. She groans, turning toward her side. "Why aren't I pissed yet,"she asks. There's another frown,"They're going to HURT HIM!"
"SORREL! Gods! STOP!" Reigna shouts, a look of mingled horror and irritation, "HE IS GOING TO KILL YOU!"
Kael murmurs a bit tersely, "We have met," to Reigna with a dip of his head concerning Petraea. "I served as one of her escorts to the Valardin Ward a very long time ago...I--" And there goes Sorrel. He shoots a look toward Sorrel before turning back to his wife with a raised brow. There is definitely a silent question there.
Ras is not a spellsinger. But he joins in, shouting along with Sorrel's tune, like he wants to overwhelm the enemy's sensibilities. He's probably hoping that other people will do the same, from the way he glances around the square.
Ras shouts from nearby, "Guess who's not a god! Never gonna be! No! Just a betrayer! A big old loser! Never gonna be a god!"
Kalani carefully tucks that charcoal pencil away, again, and glances around and finds a place to set down the stack of books she's been carrying all along. Then, settling the bag still carefully in place at her side, the Seliki physician exhales a breath and draws the dagger from her side as she moves back to stand near Tiye. A worried frown is settled in place, but there's a quiet air of solemn determination as well. "From what I understand, the singing is important," and since she can't sing (no one deserves the sort of punishment that comes from listening to her try) she taps the heel of one shoe firmly against the pavement, keeping time with the singing that's going on.
Kalani wields A Small Diving Knife.
Reigna shakes her head wildly at Kael and grabs hold of his arm. "No! It is going to go sideways any second. Fools!" Reigna frowns, "Oh gods, they are taunting the happy fun betrayer mage. *Why* does *anyone* think this is smart?"
With seemingly every muscle in his body completely tensed in anticipation for action, Amund grips the shadowmeld scabbard of his blade as the oddly-crafted Sandstalker glides free. "Master Tolv, you have a Choice. They haven't stripped it from you."
Tarik watches Rowenova and Rosalind go flying into the air and he bites the corner of his lip as he steps in front of Tolv. "You know the bloodlines that you come from! You either honor those bloodlines, and fight through it, but you will not hurt anyone else. Tarik squeezes the item that he keeps on him at all times, "But, I cannot allow you to keep hurting these people."
The man smiles. It almost looks natural, if not remotely pleasant. "They want me to let you go. Isn't that nice?" Tolv breathes in again, slow, as if savoring the stench of fish and wet lumber. "Isn't that kind?" Tolv's eyes have gone entirely yellow at this point. "All these little, caring humans..."
Insaya says, "Get out of there. Get out!"
Rukhnis is also not a spellsinger, nor is she much of a shouter. She also doesn't seem to think that exactly this kind of singing and shouting is a great idea any more than Reigna does, but lacking any other more helpful ability she simply shifts herself to be very slightly in front of Ras, while still keeping her hand in his, and glares with potent if rather anxious force towards the warehouse.
Samira trails alongside Acacia, certainly lacking anything else to do at the moment. She glances over her shoulder toward the warehouse as the singing begins, worry lines creasing her forehead as she listens to the taunting lyrics. Her attention returns to her companions, a polite nod of greeting offered to Petraea.
Any reply from Nova comes with breathing which is catchy between her words, "Cause, you. do not. want to. hurt him. Neither do I." She does shout out from where Sir Flops whines over the blood puddle she is making while laying there. "I'M ALRIGHT." She looks to Tarik with esteem at what he says before then finally finding the willpower to start peeling herself up from the floor below with a shaky stature.
Nobody else joins in with Ras' terrible singing outside, so rather than a chorus backing up Sorrel from the square, it's just...one grubby weirdo. He keeps on trying, though, and probably will until someone tells him to stop being obnoxious.
"Caring about each other is where we get our strength," Orelia tells the voice speaking through Tolv. "Bonds you choose are always stronger than ones chosen for you."
Rowenova says, "Lady Stonewood is right, it very much is."
"You're a bard, can you sing?" Kalani asks Tiye in a soft voice. "It'll help. If I could sing, i would."
Drake is not singing or taunting or chanting. He knows he's way better with a sword. He looks at Orelia, knowing she can sing if she thinks it will help, but... he's abstaining. Nonetheless.... He still has the blade out. He's looking now for any sign that this attempt at magic is working, and if it looks like it's going south he's ready to pounce.
Gael doesn't join the chorus, realizing perhaps that a dignified and assured death is better than his last breath being proving he doesn't have the makings of a bard college prospect. As Amund shifts closer to Tolv to reason with him, Gael stiffens from head to toe; "Don't--" he's half-way to say, but the Telmarch sword's soon past the threshold of reasonable distance, and instead the confessor looks on, dutifully shielding Sorrel.
Rosalind struggles to sit up, listening to Tolv. There's a small frown, a rare appearence from her. She too starts to get up, shaky in her struggle. Blood is soaking through everything right now, and she finds herself steadying her weight against a crate.
Tiye drags her hands down over her face and gazes skywards. "Stars and spirits, /what the fuck/." She glances over at Petraea with a worried look. Then back to the warehouse. Then back to Petraea. After a moment she adds to Kalani, "Oh, I can sing. But singing is /not/ going to improve this situation." The tension radiating off the bard is almost palpable, and she bites her lower lip as though mulling over a difficult choice.
"No one ever tells a bear 'friendship is where we get our strength'," grumbles Hamish, still standing near Tanith, possibly trying to be between her in the danger, possibly with her being between him and the danger. "Bear'll just eat you. Trust me on that."
"Nobody ever told me which ones were the bears!" Drake says, because he can totally hear that. "I'm stil trying to figure it out!"
Tanith gets in front of Rukhnis and Hamish and Ras, trying to pull the Blessed behind her and trying to get them all closer to the clinic without actually going inside of it. "Ras, what are you going?" she breathes, still watching the warehouse, still putting herself between it and her collection of kind-of-friends-and-family. "Hamish, you're the one closer to Her- Are we going to meet her soon? Should we hide?" she mumbles at the man.
There had been a greeting on her lips for Reigna and Kael, but it fades before finding her voice as her gaze remains riveted on the warehouse. Slowly, casually, she wraps her fingers around the hilt of the sword at her hip and loosens it from the scabbard, sarcasm and humor draining from her expression to leave behind something that can only be described as excitement. Waiting.
Some drama is playing out between the Keaton couple. Kael is gesturing towards the warehouse and Reigna is adamantly shaking her head and whispering fiercely as she continues to hold onto his arm in a restraining manner.
Ras pauses his 'singing' to glance at Tanith. He sees Petraea draw the sword past the barkeep, and his eyes widen. There's something vaguely desperate in his voice as he says, "Sorrel's singin him free." Uncertainty tinges that desperation, lost in stubbornness. "We gotta back her up, c'mon Tanith, you can sing --" And then he's shouting again.
"There's some legends that talk about singing and true songs and having the strength of faith to back up such a song can neutralize this sort of.. weirdness," Kalani's voice is quiet again but she's nerving herself up to something. "They're hurt, in there, and that's what matters."
Insaya murmurs, "Mother, let me not fear to come into your embrace," and says to the air behind and to the side, "He's going to change. If any of you geniuses have something better to do...?" She sets her jaw, and tamps down her feet. "We need to break the Mor'ral song. Come on, all that holy, we need help!"
Reigna hisses at Ras in a shrill, frightened and tense voice, "THAT IS NOT HOW IT WORKS!"
"...I guess I could have gone Iron Guard," Korka tells a fish head that some rat is trying to drag away mildly, "But that just seemed like even more paperwork. Most of these things that happen aren't things the Inquisition get involved in. But every so often it turns out that some guy's drunk bar fight turned out to be a mechanism in an evil entity's very long winded master plan and here I am. Talking to a dead fish," she sighs and sits back on her hands, "Maybe my father was right. Maybe I should have been a weaver."
Ras is startled into silence by Reigna, staring at her wide-eyed.
Gael checked charm + performance at difficulty 1, rolling 0 higher.
Sophie's still standing near the entrance to the warehouse, the crash almost making her mobilize to go inside, but she doesn't. When Sorrel starts to sing her brow furrows and her jaw drops open slightly. She starts to quietly curse under her breath. She does, however, move aside some so that she's not blocking the entrance (or exit) from the building. If something wants to run it's not gonna have to go through her. She glances at Ras, and then inside.. her breathing quickening in nervousness. Her lips start to move as she starts to visibly pray, though her words are too quiet to be made out, more of a soft desperate murmur.
No help there either it seems. Acacia shrugs and leans to speak quietly to Samira before heading back to the doorway of Torian's shop. Leaning lightly against the door frame, she takes a small sip and quietly watches.
Nova finally rights herself, for the most part, streaming crimson which is a Halfshav color (by the way). She takes her own medicine -- figuratively so -- and stands her ground where she can keep her compatriots in her field of view, along with Tolv, too. She can hear the Archlector of DEATH back there, though, and even in this grim situation... she lets out a bright laugh, which is then cut off by a sudden seize of pain, but then she cannot help another chuckle. Yes, even in the midst of all this.
"We are not spellsingers," Rukhnis grates back at Ras, her voice rougher even than it usually is, and containing a note of deep frustration and distress. Tears actually begin to well up in her eyes, but she only gives a mute shake of her head after that, mouth clamped shut.
"She doesn't tell me that sort of thing!" hisses Hamish as he looks around. "We should probably hide. You hide behind me, I'll pretend to be a small mountain."
Kalani runs the back of her free hand across her forehead, smiles at Tiye, "It was nice meeting you," she says this and slips her way forward, hesitating near the entrance to the warehouse as she looks - really really looks - hard at the interior to see who she can get to first. Nova or Rosalind. Seeing Rosalind steadying herself against a crate seems to set the course for the Seliki physician, so she begins edging in that direction, with care to make a wide detour away from where this Tolv person (or persons) actually is.
"But we're -people-," says Ras quietly. He seems determined, even if his voice is small now, barely audible past the others. "We have hearts. The Dream'll hear us if we try." It's possible he's just trying to convince himself, and either way, he doesn't yell again -- possibly worried that he's jeopardizing Sorrel's chances. "...won't it?"
Acacia smirks Samira's way and nods, "Seems so."
Sir Floppington sticks close to Nova, looking worried and looking around at the way the warehouse is set up and what all it contains.
Samira retreats to the entrance of Torian's shop, leaning against the wall and lifting a hand to massage her temple. She mutters low to Acacia, then adds, "Wish I knew what the right answers were. I feel like everything I hear is conflicting."
"Most of you have no idea even how to speak to the Dream yet. Not properly." Petraea murmurs offhandedly to Ras as she continues to watch the warehouse while her fingers flex around her sword.
A low rumble is building in Tolv's throat, louder, and louder, though the cold voice continues without a change in pitch. "Should I be merciful?" He seems to be asking himself, and then those surrounding him. "Should I show mercy?"
Tanith glances at Reigna, then at Ras, and chooses not to sing when the young man goes quiet. At Hamish's 'order', Tanith snorts. "No, we all get inside the clinic, because if you get hurt, I don't want your girlfriend to thumbscrew me to death. She's not my type and she scares me in the bad way." She tugs on Hamish and tries to get him closer to shelter. "If I get hurt it's just funny."
Nova holds close her right arm with her left hand and shouts out with that Northern volume she so blessedly possesses. "Goodman Ras is right!"
Hamish glances to Petraea, frowning slightly, then follows after Tanith. "Talking to the Dream isn't hard. It's saying something worth hearing that's the trick."
Even in the midst of all her anxiety and anguish, Rukhnis still manages to pull a scowl at Petraea. She herself doesn't take another step towards the clinic door, though, as her gaze returns to the warehouse with renewed force, even if she has no idea what's really going on in there.
Rosalind is wearing ALL BLACK. How much she's bleeding, one doesn't know. She just knows it's a pain to walk, a wince on her face. Shel istens for now, bracing herself to possibly to sing. Or something
Ras checked willpower at difficulty 20, rolling 8 lower.
Ras looks towards Petraea, and his eyes flick towards the hilt of her sword, and then he lowers his gaze mutely. When Rowenova bellows from inside the warehouse, he lifts his head with an uncertain frown, glancing at Hamish and then at Rukhnis.
"THINK Ras! Wanting is not enough, else Aion would answer every cry or stubbed toe! Think!" Reigna is clearly at the end of her patience and shouts, "GET INSIDE THE CLINIC! Get to SAFETY!"
"We get the Princess out of here once he turns." Amund lowers the point of his blade as he slips into a reactive, defensive stance. Seems like he thinks he knows the answer of whoever's speaking through Tolv.
"Aye, that's the rub," Acacia muses back with a wry look Patraea's way and back. "But what can you do?"
Drake still has his sword out. He looks at Tolv, or whoever is speaking now. "I don't know. It's all beyond me. But inside there somewhere is a man who wants not to be a hive mind and has the choice to accept it. Otherwise..." He looks at Amund for a second. "... We have numbers," he says.
Tanith checked willpower + intimidation at difficulty 15, rolling 93 higher. Tanith rolled a critical!
Edging around the broken bits of things, and the stuff that's scattered and smashed, and keeping a wary eye for more roaches, Kalani makes a quiet sound to try to draw Rosalind's attention before she approaches the crate that Rosalind is leaning against. "I can help," she keeps her voice low, "you're hurt, I mean," her eyes flick toward Tolv and back, cautiously drawing closer as she speaks.
Sophie remains dutifully outside the warehouse. Her hands come together in front of her with the lantern and she continues to pray, her mouth moving as her eyes close. Her words are unheard, but her lips move feverishly as she asks the gods, and Lagoma in particular for protection for those inside and outside of the warehouse and for help and guidance.
Tanith finally turns to Rukhnis and Ras. Her voice is weighty, her eyes serious as she stares at them, her tone even: "Get. Inside." A pause. "Please." She points to the clinic.
One can almost hear the bulwarks of Gael's mind falling, stripping down and desquamating to there lay bare the quivering, sweating and faltering blob of sanity within as the Presence's voice, disembodied, augurs the room for the possibility of mercy. In this second, he finds a moment of clarity in the eye of the storm, and his face hardens. His fists tighten. The bandages all about his limbs rip at faded edges in the act, and he settles beside Insaya with pathos of farewell in his face now that their road has darkened. "Lagoma's bidding, Inquisitor," Gael reminds, the sweat around his face wicking into the skin. This one's ready.
Ras balks at Reigna's ordered shout. He isn't good at doing what people tell him to do. But then he looks miserably at Tanith, and turns for the clinic door -- but he's still holding Rukhnis' hand, and doesn't let go.
Petraea glances in Acacia's direction and gives her a wink, murmuring, "The hope is that eventually you'll learn. Everyone has to start somewhere." Her attention focuses fully on the warehouse once more, raising her voice to say, "The Marquessa is speaking with sense! I'd listen!"
Rukhnis flinches again at the sound of Reigna's shout, but she can't quite seem to make herself move just yet. Her eyes are still on that rather distant warehouse, gazing with fixed intensity as if she could see through its walls if she only looked hard enough. Her lips part, and for a moment it seems like she really might be about to -- say something? or sing something? -- but all that comes out is a hoarse hitching noise that rattles away to nothing but a hissing breath. In the wake of this she hardly even notices Tanith for a span of several seconds, and it's only Ras's tugging grip on her hand that finally pulls her stumblingly back towards the clinic door.
The rumble builds, audible to anyone within the warehouse, louder still, a full growl that cannot possibly be made by a human throat, and yet, paradoxically, Tolv rolls his head toward Drake. "Dogs don't get choices. ...And neither do you. Very well, you can have him." For a moment, exactly one moment, the growling stops. "Give my regards to Copper."
And then everything explodes in motion and violence.
Despite the ruckus, the redhead is rather blithe, the darkened door way of the warehouse shading any of the horror inside. "Not at this fucking rate, lady," she retorts just as everything goes sideways.
Gael checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 60, rolling 18 lower.
Drake checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 60, rolling 19 lower.
Amund checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 60, rolling 3 higher.
Acacia claims that
Orelia checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 60, rolling 22 lower.
Rosalind checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 60, rolling 34 lower.
Rowenova checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 60, rolling 5 lower.
Tarik checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 60, rolling 23 lower.
Insaya checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 60, rolling 42 lower.
Kalani checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 60, rolling 23 lower.
Rowenova's retainer (Sir Floppington the Soulful Hound) checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 15, rolling 33 higher.
Still standing where she is, Nova briefly bares her pristine teeth, likely made that way with fancy alchemy, but it is most likely due to the physical pain which has been creeping up on her over time. She can only say, "Some dogs do!" But, that will be the last thing she says before those explosive milliseconds play out.
Rosalind is well--she is still leaning against the crates. Her eyes on Tolv. She looks at the physican, almost getting ready to answer her when BOOM! CRAZY HITS!
90 inflicted and Gael is harmed for grievous damage.
95 inflicted and Drake is harmed for serious damage.
110 inflicted and Orelia is harmed for severe damage.
115 inflicted and Tarik is harmed for serious damage.
Insaya says, "Mother let me not fear to come into your embrace..."
Twelve wields werewolf claws.
Instinct has Kalani dropping to a crouch as soon as the the crazy begins, flattening her back against the nearest crate, or the remains of the nearest crate, clutching the knife in one hand, her kit in the other. She's only a crate length or so away from Rosalind, not near enough to actually help - as was her intent to begin with.
There's a beastial scream that echoes throughout the Commons Square, but only /after/ those nearest the beast, /all/ of those nearest the beast, have suddenly felt claws and teeth tearing into them.
As the situation turns rather more dire and the murderwolf is unleashed, Tiye curses. At least it seems to be a curse, judging from the tone, though the words are most likely unfamiliar to any present. The bard glances over at Petraea one more time. Then she inhales once, slowly, and closes her eyes. As she exhales, however, she /changes/. A pattern spreads across her dark skin, the overlapping texture of scales in black and dappled in dark green. The pupils of her golden eyes elongate, turning slitted. The breeches she wears tear, falling to shreds around her as she grows and /lengthens/. The entire business takes all of a second. And where 'Tiye Moretti, bard and storyteller' once was, now stands a creature of a sort one might expect to see only in legends. Easily twelve feet from the top of her head to the tip of her tail, the creature has a humanlike torso -- albeit with skin patterned lightly with scales -- and the lower half of an immense snake in scales of a jet black and jewel-toned green. Her nails have elongated into short talons, and fangs are faintly visible as she opens her mouth to hiss irritably -- more to herself than anyone else -- "Sssso much for that cover. Thissss wasss an incredibly ssstupid idea." To the humans, the creature adds, "For the love of your godsssss, don't jussssst ssssstand there and wait to be ssssslaughtered! /Run/!"
And then the immense snake-creature moves to interpose itself -- herself? -- between Petraea and the warehouse (and angry werewolf) as best possible. "Tribune," the thing that was Tiye offers respectfully, albeit with obvious exasperation for the entire situation. "I am an Eye of the Sssserpent, and I act assss what treatiessss exisssst would demand."
Rowenova checked willpower at difficulty 15, rolling 26 higher.
Rosalind checked willpower at difficulty 15, rolling 1 higher.
Tanith watches the person become a ... snake? A snake. She's drawing back with the others, makes sure Hamish is inside and Rukhnis and Ras too, lingering at the door to watch. "That just happened?" she whispers to the others. "That person became ... became..."
Sophie checked willpower at difficulty 15, rolling 7 lower.
Despite all that would be good sense, Nova growls lowly and pushes past the prior pain to move closer to where Tarik is. Sir Flop follows her, too.
Hamish checked willpower at difficulty 15, rolling 4 lower.
"IIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Reigna's voice squeals into a startled keen, her eyes widening, her jaw hitting the floor. "Snake!" It's hard to say if she is frightened, giddy or excited. But then the sounds from inside the warehouse are heard and she meeps. "Werewolf! Gods help us!"
Rukhnis, still stumbling backwards towards warehouse, gawks. She's still gawking once she's inside, and after a brief poleaxed moment she shuffles back to the door to gawk some more, from around Tanith's shoulder.
It all comes too quick, too soon, this violence; this bestial turpitude. Gael is there, at the front, acting as Insaya's shield while stood before her. As claws come soaring, the Confessor attempts a fraught maneuver left but the alienating, wolf-like speed of the beast's too much for him, and all of its blades-for-claws cut through his torso like fire through dry wood. Untrammeled, these claws are, and soon slick in their fury with Gael's blood. The sheer force sends him soaring through the warehouse like yet another ornament for it to destroy, and he lands with such ruinous crushing into a pile of wood, and debris, and rusty things all poking into his back once he's more-or-less adjusted on this tormentous heap. Ringing ears, blurred vision - about to break. He recalls his able limbs up to his torso, hands cupping at his wounds to keep that precious nectar from spilling out. "Piece... of shit," Gael breathes out, spilling mouthwater on the floor. Sadly, he rises up from the pile and staggers out into the newly-cemented arena, hands before him as fists. "Inquisitior, you have to, go, outside."
Samira almost appears to be holding her breath as she peers toward the warehouse from her spot outside the shopfront. "I wish we knew what was going on in there," she laments with a scowl, just before the sounds of absolute chaos ensue. The scream that rends through the air has her clamping her hands over her ears and staring toward the building with a look of utter horror. "Gods almighty!" Tiye's transformation into something entirely not-human only adds to her sense of dread. She reaches out to grasp Acacia's shoulder as she ducks into the doorway of Lowers Leathers, peering around it to see what unfolds. "What-!"
Ras glances towards Tanith, inside the clinic ahead of Rukhnis. "What?" he asks, and goes to the window to look out. "Holy shit!"
Petraea hears that scream and lunges into action. Her sword is pulled all the war free, flames chasing up the length of blade as she starts to move for the warehouse, only to find a twelve foot creature in her way. She bows her head respectfully and says in a low voice, "I appreciate your adherence to duty. I must also adhere to my own. That creature attacked the Prima of Wolves. I am the Tribune of Cardia. You want to try to hold him off or usher people away?"
Towards the CLINIC. Rukhnis not so insane as to go towards the warehouse (probably, and Tanith isn't letting her anyway).
Drake takes a big claw to the chest - he wasn't wearing his leather breastplate, and he's losing another shirt over this. The one scar would have been cool, but....
His thoughts immediately are for Orelia, but she also seems to be able to get up, at least. "Well I figured negotiations would fail," he tries to joke. "So we burn the warehouse down then?" He then takes a moment to try to sit up, and that's... not so easy, but he manages, and then he gets to his feet.
Claws come flying faster than anything Orelia has ever seen in her life, and before she can react the floor around her is splattered with her own blood. She stumbles back from Tolv, holding her arm to her body in a desperate attempt to slow the blood loss. She turns to Drake and replies, "Let's get out of it first."
Hamish stares dumbfounded at the snake, like, yeah, very much what in the fuck is even happening here. He tilts his head toward her and says, "Yes. It's really playing up the hissing thing, too. Do you think it's like that where it comes from all the time? 'Sssalutations, ssssir, I'd like to purchasssse sssssome sssssausagessss'. I bet every conversation takes forever."
Insaya is wide-eyed and blood-spattered. She grabs Sorrel's arm, and YANKS her. She knows better than to argue with Gael and says, "COnfessor, GET OUT OF THERE." Could she do it, she out have Sorrel over a shoulder like a sack full of poached game, running for the nearest door. "Get her, get her, take her," she hollers.
Sophie's prayers stop dead as she sees a giant woman/snake in the middle of the commons square. Her jaw drops open, and she steps away from the warehouse rather quickly. Her eyes follow Petraea and that sword, and then the snake woman. She's breathing heavily now and trying to put some distance between her and the doorway to the warehouse.
Tarik spits some of his blood on the ground and shouts, "Feck!: Tarik places his hand against his wounds, "I am still not impressed." Tarik prays, "White Bear give me enough strength to make it out of here, and protect the ones I love."
Ras leans forward to grip the bottom of the windowframe with his left hand, having released Rukhnis by now. His knuckles whiten and his features contort with anxiety. "Tolv," he mutters. "Shit. C'mon. This's all..." There's a quiet 'ugh' as he lowers his head to bonk the window. "Too much." If the Dream just listened to wanting, he'd be wanting with all his heart. Unfortunately, that appears to do no good at all.
Rosalind blinks. And blinks some more. "Did she--did she turn into a SNAKE?!" Rosa looks at everyone gathered. "Holy Spirits! That's so--"but her words trail as she tries and push foward. Growing weaker by the moment. "Cadern and Aella are going to be so--not pissed but woah!" She feels for Tarik's words, mumbling,"They hurt a lot.."trying to make her way out. SHE'S TRYING OKAY!
Kael snares Reigna's arm at that point, absolutely uncomprehending at whatever that snakeish being is, but he definitely is deciding that it is time to get far closer to the clinic door. Maybe even slip through. She held him back before, now he is tugging her the opposite way. Go figure.
Why didn't he get hit? It's hard to say. Amund tracks the motions of the bounding wolf -- to some degree. At the very last moment, he dives and rolls to the side, Sandstalker gleaming red in the light as he grits his teeth. "Everyone, let's get the fuck out of here. I'm likely going to curse the shit out of myself for this, but I'll cover our retreat. Go, go, go!" Gael is down for the count, so the knight tries to hold onto the man's shoulder to lift him up. "Let's go. Get up!"
Kalani had a goal, and by the gods, she's going to accomplish it. She gets to Rosalind's side at this point, eyes way wider than they normally are. "Hi. I think OUT is better than IN, right now. What say we get out of here?" she's reaching out to lend a hand to get Rosalind moving forward and OUT of the warehouse. Oh yes. OUT. Not IN.
Why didn't he get hit? It's hard to say. Amund tracks the motions of the bounding wolf -- to some degree. At the very last moment, he dives and rolls to the side, Sandstalker gleaming red in the light as he grits his teeth. "Everyone, let's get the fuck out of here. I'm likely going to curse the shit out of myself for this, but I'll cover our retreat. Go, go, go!" The Confessor looks particularly wounded so the knight steps in front of him, facing the living, moving blur that is a werewolf in full transformation. "Leave none behind!"
"Are they likely to be ussssshered?" the snake-creature questions Petraea, her tone just as wry as Tiye's own was earlier. The mention of the attack on the Prima of the Wolves has turned her expression darker, however. "Sssstill, perhapsss we can buy the ssssurvivorsss time to reconssssider their posssition and /depart/. Though they might be more willing to trusssst you, Tribune." She glances at the various panicking humans. And the snarky ones. Hamish's remark in particular earns a narrow-eyed look which suggests the Nehebkhani is not amused at the moment.
Having stared for some time at this legendary creature whose particular legend she's probably never even heard of, Rukhnis seems to be brought back to the tragedy of the whole situation by Ras's unhappy words. A streak of anguish briefly spears her gaze again, and then she rubs her hand roughly across her face and shuffles herself sideways to stand near Ras, close enough for their arms to touch.
Twelve rears back, teeth bared, utterly maddened, and practically roars into Tarik's face. They're eye to eye, and the wolf's narrow. He's still, he's still for exactly this moment, staring down the Morien.
"Mangata's tits," Acacia's honey-brown eyes widen and she quickly moves to yank Samira into the doorway, but Sam is wise enough to move before the taller Culler even gets a chance to move. With Samira safely inside, Acacia backs up defensively, a sharp whistle to anyone nearby who might need the shelter of the leathershop as she draws her blades.
Frailty and weakness here have claimed their due on Gael's body, who waxes and wanes with the moribund transience of someone whose mind is too clouded by a conflagration of painful feelings running thorough its core, just like he himself's running out of synapses to process them. "I can't feel my legs," he tells Amund and Insaya, but his voice's an impel- a cry for help, but mute and hesitant. But he's standing, isn't he? Only that he's not moving. And from his torso bleed three deep lacerations, all blood and membrane showing. Coils of fat. Outlines of sinew. All things meant to be inside, now hanging out. "Carry me."
Rosalind stops in her tracks. And turns. Seeing Tarick. She murmurs to Kalani, telling her,"I--have to make sure Tarik is going to be ok. And Nova." FOR REASONS! Still..the snake! Her breathing is a bit labored but she watches Tarik at Twitch, her fingers itching.
And there are Nova and Flop who are right there by Tarik's side, right there. Both growling lowly! And ready to take action if there is any indication that further harm might come to the Morien man.
Petraea gives Tiye a brilliant smile and says with a little laugh, "I wouldn't be so sure about that. Some of these people would rather trust a khati than a Cardian any day. Be safe. I have your back. You get in trouble, scream and I'll distract him with the flaming sword, yeah?" She doesn't really wait for confirmation of the plan before she is waving her sword of her head and bellowing, "Get inside! You too, Sir!" She points her sword at Amund and moves forward to throw the man out of harm's way if she must.
Petraea checked command + intimidation at difficulty 15, rolling 38 higher.
"Wouldn't have believed this if we hadn't have stayed to see it," Samira mutters to Acacia. She keeps her head ducked around the shop's doorway, eyes glued to the warehouse entryway. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," she whispers under her breath, white-knuckled hand grasping the hilt of her dagger tightly.
Reigna does not fight Kael's pull, though her eyes are locked on Tiye and she calls back, "Nice to meet you! Lady Livy is not wrong!" She can't look away from Tiye, captivated for a long moment, before she sees the injured stumbling out of the warehouse. SHe grows serious at that and shouts towards the clinics, "Combat medics! Ready to receive wounded!"
Drake looks shocked for a second. He looks at Tarik. "White bear. Are you the bear? I knew SOMEONE was a bear," he says.
He's easily distracted. Right. Leaving the warehouse, wolf is now staring down the bear. Drake gets at least toward the outside again as Petraea (one double-take) is walking toward it, and then ... a giant snake woman (this is a triple-take) is also happening. "Oh Hello Lady Livy nice to meet you in person I suppose."
"Alright, then lets get them both out of here?" Kalani says this in a hopeful tone of voice, turning to follow Rosalind's line of sight, picking out Nova first then Tarick and then the dogs. "Crap," she mutters this, lastly, moving a step closer so that she's at Rosalind's side at this point, seeing how badly wounded Gael is and bolts in that direction. Damn the consequences.
Tarik lets go of holding his amulet and says, "Feck!" Tarik peers over at Rowenova and Rosalind, "Back off! Get out of the warehouse!" Tarik peers down at his chest, "Look for me latter....I hope." Tarik eyes, "White Bear is with me!
Ras tilts his head towards Rukhnis and then hears Reigna's shout about needing medics. He mutters something to the Eurusi woman.
Insaya shoves, shoves! Sorrel through to the Tragedy door, and shoves her inside into the warren of rooms. "Shit, shit, shit," she curses, uncharacteristically, her worn down boots skidding as she she looks for the next thing, the next thing to do to get people to safety. "GAEL?!"
Orelia is likely only able to walk because the adrenaline coursing through her is dulling the pain of severe injuries she has taken. When Drake is distracted by the snake person and the flaming sword she throws her arm over him and leans on him.
The snake khati offers a respectful nod to Petraea, clearly willing to follow the plan. Without waiting any further she slithers quickly forward into the fray. "WOLF!" she calls out, trying to draw the attention of the thing that masqueraded as Tolv. Trying to free space for others to make their retreat. "Perhapsss there is nothing left in your sssskull but rage and fear. But if you wissssh a fight, fight /me/!" She doesn't sound /happy/ about this fight, but in for a... whatever the smaller unit of Nefer'khati currency is, in for a larger unit of the same currency.
(Proverbs and idiom really work better when the culture is not an entirely alien one.)
Twelve stares at Tarik, his eyes narrowing further, before suddenly going wide enough that the whites are actually visible. He shoves Tarik roughly to one side--no claws--and then lunges toward the warehouse entrance with a snarl. Fight the snake woman? He definitely seems like he intends to fight the snake woman.
20 inflicted and Tarik is unharmed.
For a moment there, Amund spends a moment in clear confusion at the staring contest between the Morien and the werewolf, though he is broken out of that reverie by the approaching figure of Petraea.
As she approaches, the knight stares at the Ambassador and nods.
Turning to the Confessor, he winces when he spots the damage, using his all of his strength to carry a much taller and ergo much heavier man over to safety. "Help me help you. Arm on my shoulder."
If there's one thing that can snap Rukhnis back to attention in the here and now, it's the call for healers. With a squeeze to Ras's arm and her head bent towards him for just a moment, she quickly wheels around to begin tossing out orders to the clinic staff, her professional commands somehow managing to sound courteous at the same time. She definitely doesn't seem to have any fears that the ordinary medics on duty there will fail either to heed her to carry out their preparations with perfect skill and care.
Already here, Nova hoarsely croaks. "Good! Thank you, White Bear!" says she. Though, she shows no indication of being ready to leave. Though, she reaches to try to fend off the shove that Twelve gives Tarik, she is too slow to do so because of her human speeds.
"Fuck," Acacia growls and pushes away from the door, her expression a flash of determination. "Don't die," she orders curtly to Samira as though she knows the girl will follow her into the fray and begins to skirt the battleground to see if she can help evacuate those too injured to get out of the way. First on the list unless others need help first, is Gael.
Drake gasps when Orelia throws an arm over him. It's... worse for her than he thought, apparently. There's too much blood. He starts to stumble forward, holding her up. "Medic!" Reigna he saw earlier... she or someone here should be able to help. Drake is still on his feet, but he's looking a little clawed up. With the hand that's not holding Orelia, he sheathes the sword... no, don't think about that now.
And over Amund's shoulder does indeed Gael's arm go. Then the other slips and slides over Kalani's whole back berth of the neck. "Easy," begs the Confessor, his face twisting; its features contorting with pain, the kind that's deeply-seated, from some possibly nicked motor within. "I should'a fuckin' drowned," he tells himself, feet hanging limply off of the air while being hauled out by his two veritable saviors. Behind him is a trail laid- a trail of blood that finds purchase by dripping down his legs. As Acacia arrives, it's in that very moment he's hauled through the door by the two. "Put me down somewhere, Gods, was that a giant snake-woman? Hooo fuck, this is it. This is." This is called delirium, right?"
Tiye-snek braces herself for werewolf impact, muttering something. The words are in an unfamiliar foreign tongue, though to judge from the tone the remark is along the lines of her bard persona's earlier 'fuck my /entire/ life' comment. It may be extremely difficult to actually DOWN a werewolf -- one wonders how effective giant snake venom is -- but to judge from her position she looks to be preparing to try to seize him in her coils and /hold/ him... to immobilize him long enough to buy people time to retreat.
Ras watches Rukhnis for a moment and some of the tension in his frame softens, but then he looks back outside. He makes a fist with his left hand and half-heartedly punches the windowsill when the snake slithers into the warehouse with that challenge, and he hears the ensuing snarl from Tolv. Gritting his teeth, he turns away and skulks deeper into the clinic, out of the way of the physicians and the wounded staggering in to (relative) safety.
Many hands make light work. It's just one of those THINGS that people say until they're actually doing precisely that. Kalani doesn't know the name of the wounded man, or really most of anyone in this craziness, but she's able to help get the wounded man to the outside of the warehouse instead of the inside. And takes a knee beside him once they're in a clearer-safer spot. "Um, well, yes. But, have to say, werewolves and really cool snake people? this is a day of days," as she begins to do a quick triage-assessment of his wounds. "I'm a healer, allow me to help?" is asked, sort of pro-forma, since she's already poking at him to see where to start.
Tarik screams in pain as he pulls the amulet from around his neck. "It is burning me!" Tarik hands it quickly to Rowenova. "Feck! I am not sure what it is going on!"
"Drake!" Reigna urges one of the medics towards her cousin and Orelia. Note that she does not march into danger, but stays near the clinic, ushering people inside. "Hurry! Hurry! EVERYONE INSIDE!"
Petraea gives Amund a nod and starts to usher him away as Tiye attracts the werewolf's attention. She provides cover for the lot as they start to pull the wounded to safety, just in case the werewolf decides to get mad that his chew toys are running away. She spots Drake with Orelia and slips her free arm around the woman's waist to help carry her toward the medics.
"You either," Samira answers to Acacia, her eyes still fastened upon the warehouse entrance as if willing people to get to the exit. Still no sign of a particular face and so, she launches forward on Acacia's heels with the intent to help them clear out. As Gael finally makes it through the door, hauled by Amund, she dashes to his side."We need to get him to a medic. A MEDIC!" she bellows.
"I am a medic, don't shout," Kalani mutters as she works at Gael's side.
When Tarik screams as he does, Nova looks wide eyed before reaching out and taking up the amulet by its cords, one hand cradling it in her glove, too. "Love, I will protect this. Take my canteen off my belt and douse your burn?"
Twelve smashes into Tiye with all the force of a charging bull, except he's a charging bull with teeth and claws. But he is also completely rage-blind; does he see those coils? He probably sees them. And he gives them absolutely no regard whatsoever.
"Welcome to the dream," the redhead says to Gael with a wry grin. "You got him?" she asks Amund and Kalani who also arrives to help. Gael in good hands, the leather-clad redhead nods and turns to Samira. "Let's get em clear if we can and get the fuck out of here," she says and heads off to drag anyone else out of the way while the werewolf tangles with the serpent and the lass with the blazing sword all to the tune of Tarik's agonized cries of pain.
Orelia somehow manages to sheathe her own blade. She puts one foot in front of the other as Petraea and Drake help her to medics.
Acacia claims that dammit
"It's very real, good man. Just as real as the werewolf." Amund glances over his shoulder to spot Petraea, something of a curiosity in the way the Cardian is heading TOWARDS danger. For a moment it seems like he might hesitate, might turn back to the fight, but he nods back to the Ambassador, only stopping when he's hauled the Confessor to the clinic. Sheathing Sandstalker, he gestures to Gael, "Give this man some water and find him a cot."
Rukhnis pauses only briefly in her preparations for an influx of wounded to glance back towards the door and mutter, "Are they going to bring them in here or are they simply going to stand out there and bellow about it?" But then she's back to shepherding staff around that don't really seem to need it now that commands have been issued, with the end result being that all is in as perfect preparation as it can be, given the short notice and the bizarre chain of events all around, when the first of the injured are brought in.
30 inflicted and Tiye is harmed for moderate damage.
Gael's face turns a cadaverously lovely shade of pale. His lips transcend the concept of color -- they look pallid now, frigidly so. There's no contrast of anything to be found here, for all supposed pockets of blood meant to be below the face have run dry like an unplugged aquifer. "What?" He asks Kalani, slipping in and out of consciousness with frightening ease. "You asked--did you ask, for permission? Yes, no, please. Suture my ugly chest if it would please you." There's a smirk here, its teeth bloodied by red patches, and humor's meant to be in his voice, but his vocal cords aren't in control right now. It's pain he stifles instead, and once Samira approaches after Acacia and Amund's acknowledging comments, he tells: "You should see how I left the other guy." Healthy and hale, but he's not about to say.
Sophie gives one last glance toward the warehouse doors and she darts for the clinic, rushing indoors and headed toward the most wounded, which at a quick glance she assumes are Gael and Orelia. With Kalani seeing to Gael the mercy makes her way toward Orelia. She wastes no time in trying to assess Orelia's wounds, praying as she does, her fingers pulling aside clothing and examining wounds. She gives Orelia a nod before laying her hand on what she thinks might be the worst of those wounds. Her prayer continues, even as her free hand waves over someone with bandages.
Tanith looks at Rukhnis, then stands at the door, hands cupped around her mouth to bellow, "BRING YOUR WOUNDED TO THE CLINIC IF YOU CAN!" Because there are medics in ere. "DON'T STAY OUT THERE!" And then she's ducking into the building to help Rukhnis prepare.
The werewolf is rage-blind -- possibly nothing more than impulse and fury at this point -- and charges right into Tiye's trap. Score, Tiye. The snake khati quickly ensnares him in her coils and /squeezes/, trying to hold him in place. Claws and teeth and all. Let's see how long she can keep this up.
(Answer: not forever. People might want to take advantage and /move/.)
Drake would be able to carry Orelia easily enough if he wasn't also wounded, but... well, he is. His shirt is soaked with blood - some hers, some his. It's shredded besides. As soon as he can help hand Orelia off, he looks down at it, and takes the tattered bits... "You know, I lose more shirts this way," he says. Well he still uses humor to diffuse tense situations. He looks at Petraea. "Nice sword," he says for a moment. Then Sophie is on the case with Orelia, and he can breathe more easily.
Insaya gets through the back rooms to the clinic, where she can join those who have brought Gael and some of the others.
Kalani flashes a brief, startled, grin at Gael, nodding to the various questions asked of her/in her general direction. "Yes, I have him. Yes, I'm a healer. No, I won't leave him," and since she seems to have startled the patient into smirking at her and answering, the Seliki physician gives a quiet huff of laughter. "I did see how you left the other guy," while continuing to work, mindful of what's going on around them.
A sligh smirk parts Acacia's lips as she catches Gael's dry comment, but she's off again, her long strong legs carrying her swiftly back to the shop, "Come on, lass," she calls to Samira as it seems there's no one else to help and heads to the safety of the shop.
Petraea smirks at Drake after she gently passes Orelia into Sophie's care, murmuring as she looks at the man, "Yours too." She gives him a brief bow of her head before she moves back toward the warehouse, skirting the fight itself, to seek either more wounded or more frightened and help pull them toward the clinic, her eyes only leaving Tiye when they must.
Tarik eases his burn with Rowenova's canteen and makes his way to the clinic. "At least I didn't black out this time."
Samira snaps her mouth shut, offering a faint nod to Kalani. "Right, got it. Thank you." Taking Acacia's advice, she leaps into action to assist with moving the injured toward the relative safety of the clinic. "Oh, yeah?" She responds in kind and attempts a smile as she hears Gael's remark, though it ends up something more like a grimace, concern filling her dark gaze. "Acacia..." She reaches out to snag the other Culler's arm, voice low.
Nova offers to let Tarik lean against her and her against him if he wishes, whilst they make their way dragging blood to the clinic over yonder.
Orelia's leathers are shredded into a fringe that could never hope to be fashionable, and pulling it away lets the wounds bleed more freeely. Her mouth opens like she wants to laugh at Drake's quip, but her wince makes it clear that was a mistake. "Remind me..." she says to him as Sophie sets to treating her.
Caught. Twelve shrieks, a sound somewhere between scream and howl. Indeed, that's not going to hold him long, and poor Tiye gets a few bites for her trouble, but right now he's stuck. Squirming, snarling, but stuck.
However grim the situation may be, Rukhnis surveys the clinic and staff with no small amount of pride in them as they get everything assembled just so for the work of all the healers together. Then, with a quick glance around, she first asks Kalani with Gael, "Do you require any assistance with him? If not, I will go to the next person." Who might be Drake, at this point.
20 inflicted and Tiye is harmed for moderate damage.
Acacia is interrupted by Samira's hand. Without a second thought she snags the younger Culler to haul her inside. "What?" she says as she pulls her towards the door.
Here, inches from death, his body drips and droops on the cot alike a cube of ice, only that its formless quantity's made by feigned confidence, not water. "Yeah," Gael assures Samira, his throat squeezing taut. His eyes, here in their loose focus, hooding. "Fucked 'im up," he ascertains with wounded indolence, draping an arm across his stomach. Gael, here fading towards a stilled death, looks more worried about his pride than the quantity of soul still left in him. "He was big, too, right?" The Confessor adds, seeking Kalani's corroboration even here, as his surrounding darkens and his dead-angle widens him into one long, and inevitable cave-in of sleep. He's out.
Drake is definitely bleeding and isn't going to refuse help, looking at Rhuknis. But he's also not... running inside the clinic, either. No, he wants to see what's about to happen at this point.
Kalani lifts her eyes from Gael, still not knowing his proper name, though mentally referring to him by the wounds that are visible, her hands still for the moment she's looking up. "I've got him, it's ok. There are others who need help," she agrees, confirms, all of that with another nod. "Yes, it was a seriously big fish," there's a trace of levity in her words as she goes back to work.
Tiye hisses in pain, but tries to clench her coils tighter. If this night goes on much longer, the more observant among the humans might have learned how to say 'fuck my /entire/ life' in whatever (almost melodic) Nefer'khati tongue the khati is speaking. After a moment, she adds in somewhat pained Arvani, "Could you all pleasssse move /fasssster/?" After all, one can only assume that squirming panicked murderwolf is probably not going to *stop* biting and clawing at his captor.
"FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS, GET IN HERE NOW." Reigna roars at those dawdling outside the clinic. "NOW!"
"Fuck," Acacia says. "Let's get them in here then. HURRY!" Without hesitating she's off again to usher, if allowed, Amund, Kalani and the unconscious Gael into the clinic with Samira's help. "Let's get him inside. He's out. You hear the lady, let's MOVE!"
1 Templar Knight guards have been dismissed.
Sir Daniel the Beardless, a somewhat hapless Templar have been dismissed.
Samira leaves, following Acacia.
Dame Rosario Nevarre of the Oathlands, Anouk Ardennes, Anais Ardennes, Triage, The white dove of Mercy, 2 Valardin Knights, 1 Templar Knight guards leave, following Sophie.
2 Keaton Huntsmen, Marie, chef of Keaton Hall, Sir Pupsalot, a polite, tri-color corgi, Oaken, an Oakhaven bloodhound, Fidelity, a white-tailed eagle, 1 Healer Guardian, Gigi, an apprentice physician with attitude problems leave, following Reigna.
Sunny, an Ostrian Cat leaves, following Orelia.
Atli, a Whitehold Mountain Dog leaves, following Tanith.
Samira arrives, following Acacia.
Sir Floppington the Soulful Hound, Tarik leave, following Rowenova.
Drawn by the ruckus, a hooded man slinks out from somewhere but pauses at a relatively safe distance, starting from the darkness of the hood. There is a hand moving to his sword but he wisely stays away, near the entrance of the clinic. At the call for people to move, he does. There is however a moment of intense staring at Petraea before he disappears.
Atli, a Whitehold Mountain Dog arrives, following Tanith.
Twelve abruptly tears himself free--fortunately, not /entirely/ literally--he lands on all fours, at a slight skid, and with the scratch of razor sharp claws against cobblestone. A furious snarl-roar is spat at the large snake woman.
1 Templar Knight guards, Sir Daniel the Beardless, a somewhat hapless Templar leave, following Hamish.
Tiye hisses back at the wolf, rearing up on her tail as much as she possibly can, fangs bared. "Do you think you can withsssstand my venom, wolf? Ssshall we tessst that?"
Tanith grabs Hamish and drags him into the clinic, disappearing wthin.
Atli, a Whitehold Mountain Dog leaves, following Tanith.
Petraea catches a glimpse of the damage that Tiye has sustained, hisses in frustration, and moves into position to summon up a wall of fire between Tiye and the werewolf, calling out, "How about we don't? Your injuries need to be seen to!"
Twelve's ears flatten as he stares up at the snake, the fur all along his neck and spine lifting higher. He eases back a step, and for a moment it's unclear whether he's backing down, or preparing to spring again. It turns out not to matter. The sudden wall of fire in his face is enough, there's a low yelp from the monster, and then it turns and bounds away on all fours, at impressive speed. Within an instant, he's lost to sight between rickety old buildings.
As Murderwolf Twelve escapes into the night -- and, one hopes, to lands /outside/ the city -- Tiye sort of slumps, energy spent for the moment. (It's an impressive slump, really, given she's a giant snake-lady.) After a moment, she slinks slowly back towards Petraea and away from the literal firewall, oozing from numerous wounds along her scaled length and clearly in some pain. "That wasssss not what I had hoped to do tonight," she notes to the Cardian Tribune. "And I ssssuppossse I sssshould make myssself ssscarce before there are too many quessstionsss." She pauses then, looking down at the blood, mud, and general disarray of the Commons Square. In the midst of that is a set of torn, shredded leather scraps. The khati stares at them for a long moment, and then sighs as it sinks in that if she retakes her human-y form to make her way through the city unnoticed, it will be minus half her clothing. In a tone of weary sadness, she remarks, "I /liked/ thossse pantsss."
Petraea's hazel eyes watch the murderwolf's retreat, making sure he is good and gone before she closes her fist and the flames of the fire wall die out. She looks Tiye over, concerned, before she bows respectfully and says, "You took a great risk tonight. I thank you for it. You likely saved a lot of lives tonight. Given the treaties between our people, I would be happy to offer you medical treatment for your wounds," a smile twitches at Petraea's lips even in the midst of trying to be formal, "and pants, aboard our ship nearby."
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