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| At the Tower of the Hypnogogue; Delve Thread 1 | Full Party | |
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| Topic Started: May 31 2014, 01:13 AM (1,465 Views) | |
| gorgoth | Jun 3 2014, 05:16 AM Post #31 |
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Varidia sighed in relief that the fight was over, and descended closer to the ground.. She didn't know how much longer she could have stayed that high in the air in that rain, and, while her Fire Shield still worked, due to it being magical flame, it still wouldn't have lasted nearly as long as it normally would. It had gone out almost as soon as the fight was over as it was. Following the group into the train, she sat down on one of the over-head poles, to shake the water from her wings and let them rest. "Well, glad that's over. I don't like those kinds of situations. very dangerous for a Fay like me. Too many bigger creatures flailing around, and I can only stay in the air so long in those conditions." looking at Owen, she said "I'm just glad you take your job seriously, unlike most of the law-force. That could have been much worse otherwise. Anyways, whether we all like it or not, for better or worse, we are stuck with each other for the time being, so we all might wanna get used to it. Mind if we could have your name Mr. Guard? I am Varidia Sky. I'm guessing you are here to watch over us, so that makes you part of the group too. Rather have the people that are gonna have to work together to survive trust the others, that way our to survive at least exist." |
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| Brackenwood | Jun 3 2014, 05:30 AM Post #32 |
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the rest of the trip was uneventful. And Julius, for one, was happy about that. Civilians and comrades injured, property damage, and now and even worse reputation for the non-humans of the city, all because one guard just had to have a dick measuring contest. At least now both of the heavily armored fools were behaving themselves, whispering to each other at the head of the pack, or so it seemed. Julius entertained the thought of guessing what words were being spoken verbatim, he dropped it soon after and fished around in his pockets for another cigar. After all, it didn't take a genius to guess that the two men were trying to figure why their little macho plan didn't work, and why one of them was now sporting a shattered hand. Julius laughed aloud, it was a funny thought and one that he couldn't help but laugh at for a moment before falling silent once again and staying that way until the group had reached their destination. As soon as the two guardsmen retreated to cover the exit, the air of the group shifted to one of calm, the tension almost melting from their already tired forms. Some of the group had begun speaking, surprisingly the giant was the first to pipe up he said a few words to Julius, who only tossed him a spare cigar as a response. Next to speak was the rat, who didn't have much to say and, Julus suspected, never would and finally the Corporal, who did his best to issue an apology. Julius regarded him while he spoke, taking a long drag from the cigar, the sudden burst of light causing shadows to play about Julius' face and his eyes to shine slightly, hinting at his less than human background. As the corporal finished speaking Julius exhaled, thick plumes of bluish smoke pouring from his nostrils. "It is what it is Corporal." He spoke, without a hint of joviality in his voice. "But let me offer you a warning now, if you ever loose control of you men like that again, I. will. kill them." As he spoke the last line, loud enough for everyone to hear, Julius turned his head and until he stared directly at the guard that punched him. "For insurance purposes of course..." he added before taking another long drag from his cigar. This time, with a smile. Edited by Brackenwood, Jun 3 2014, 05:30 AM.
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| POOHEAD189 | Jun 3 2014, 06:54 AM Post #33 |
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Berek had decided that, once they had made it to their 'rest' spot. He would do just that, and he plopped down on his rump. His knees up and his big arms resting loosely on them as he just sat there in quiet contemplation. He had never been much of a talker, preferably just replying to people unless he was speaking on his professions. His team getting friendly with one another was fortunate though. It would do well for them not to kill one another before someone else could. He merely listened with a mild expression, only raising an eyebrow at Julius' threat to the guardsmen. He let out a sigh and began thinking of how long this entire ordeal would take. He had contracts to fill and things to build and forge. Edited by POOHEAD189, Jun 3 2014, 06:55 AM.
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| Damon | Jun 3 2014, 02:38 PM Post #34 |
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Ancient Bartender
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Owen listened to the mercs threat, and was quick to respond. "If it happens that way again, I'll put in the paperwork saying it was justified defense. Too many of my colleagues are abusive and corrupt. Sometimes I wonder if I am the only man to take the Armor for the sake of duty and the law." The Fay had spoken then, thanking him. "Sorry, little one. My name is Owen Cantor, Corporal-at-arms of the Ostenmund City Guard. I am charged with the security of your mission, and all I have been told is thst it is for the good of thr City." Edited by Damon, Jun 3 2014, 02:51 PM.
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| Volksgeist | Jun 4 2014, 04:35 AM Post #35 |
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It seemed fitting that their cohesion should be strengthened just before their mission seemingly began as, just as Owen officially introduced himself to the group, an almost deafening screech could be heard. At first, it was an echo, but as it swelled within the depot and the lights above began to flicker, they all recognized exactly what it was - the Under-Rail arriving. As it jetted from the black chasm, sparks sprang up and over the gap, showering the brick flooring. Not a single soul seemed to stir among the myriad that lay about in the depot. Then, with a clunk, the brakes finally set on the rails and the Under-Rail began to slow before finally stopping with a hiss. A moist cloud of steam mixed with diesel smoke erupted from two thick pipes at the helm of the Under-Rail as its doors sprang open. Immediately, bodies began to pour out of its interior. Most were humans, but some were clearly not. The humans passed by the group unhindered and climbed the steps to Red Run while the nonhumans instead flanked out and began to mingle with the others at rest on the depot. When the crowd had finished dissipating, a mechanical voice boomed from somewhere to their left: "BOARD FOR COMERFORD'S BRIDGE, BLACKTHROAT WHARF, THE COMMUNE, HOUND'S RUN, CROWSPEAK . . ." The list went on and on until, finally, it announced the Garden District. With one final glance at the guards, the group boarded the Under-Rail. Shortly after, it screeched to life once again and jettisoned into the darkness. Almost two full hours had passed. The group had managed to nab a number of bench seats after a couple of stops, allowing them to rest their legs. The traffic in the Under-Rail was heavy - people milling about, moving from car to to car, among other things. The group's settling had apparently claimed the car for nonhumans, as they had all seemingly congregated there, and more than once they had seen a human or two peek in from another car, grimace in disgust, and instead turn back. The Under-Rail's high-pitched scream sounded and the internal monitor at the front of the car announced that they were arriving in the Garden District. Expecting another damp, cramped and ugly depot, the group prepared for their stop and rose from their seats. Instead, the dusky windows were flooded with light. As the doors opened, their eyes were met with a completely different Ostenmund depot than they had ever seen. The bricking was new, crimson, and not layered with thick grime or salt. Here and there, a few brick ovals held top-soil and blooming, green plants. Bright floodlights angled at the Under-Rail from the corners of the room and, next to them, nigh-invisible speakers emitted a low emulation of nature sounds. Flanking the sides of the brick stairwell that led to the aboveground were two waterfalls, trickling slowly into troughs. There were no extraneous people here, no castaways. It didn't take long for the group to realize why. Between them and the beautiful set was a black metal collapsible gate. Behind it, two uniformed guards stood with their hands on their weapons but their weapons turned downward toward the ground. A woman stood between them. Her face was severe, powdered lightly, her entire image one of restraint, pride, and intelligence. As her eyes fell upon them, she crossed her arms in front of herself. "Halt and please state your business." Edited by Volksgeist, Jun 4 2014, 07:08 AM.
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| gorgoth | Jun 4 2014, 07:16 AM Post #36 |
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After a uneventful trip, they got to a gate to what looked like the rich part of town. they were asked what their business there was, and Varidia nodded to Owen, knowing he was the best choice for a spokesperson here. |
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| Flynn The Rambler | Jun 4 2014, 03:26 PM Post #37 |
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I Get things Done, by being Big and being Bad.
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Jacob slept easy on the rail. He enjoyed gentle ride and was always fascinated by the things. In truth he would have loved to work on one, were it not for his half breed condition he might have. As the speaker announced their arrival he stretched and yawned, getting to his feet, he held onto a bar as the train lurched to a halt. "Well, this looks nice." He said clearly jealous. This was so nice, nicer than any place he could ever pay to live in, and it was only their station. He shook his head and filed out of the train, looking at the the small garden. The odd nature noises confused him, it just didnt seem right and it unnerved him a bit. Jacob looked up as the woman spoke and he smiled at her, as nicely as he could. "We're here... well.. humm. Owen, Tell the good lady why were here." He didnt know what he could, or could not say. He didnt want to risk another fight that could be avoided. |
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| Snow White | Jun 4 2014, 05:49 PM Post #38 |
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And not a fuck was given
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Isolde stuck his nose out the train door and gave it a whiff. This smell.... It was a scent he didn't really recognize..... The first time he smelt it was in the hypnogauge room. He pondered whether to stay on the train or not. One claw at a time he pried himself off the train. He got on all fours and paused. Sniffing around him and darting his beady eyes around him. He knew what that scent was, it was all around him. It caused his hair to stand on end. Noooooo...... his mind raced as he scurried around. No, no, no, no! This cannot be! He panicked at the horror around him. His eyes tore the place apart, looking for cover to escape it. He eventually found a lamp post and took solice in it. He raced to it as fast as he could. For this place was..... It was.... "Clean! This filthy, filthy place is not filthy at all! No sewers, no garbage pales, and most importantly! he was finally on top of the lamp post now. He scurried on top of it like liquid lightning. "nothing to eat in SIGHT!" He pitched on top of the post, looking at the filthy man-things down below, who dragged him to the cleanest filthy of them all, this place.... Wherever it was. He pawed at his face, rodent like, to cover it more from his filthy hands. There had to be a morsel to eat, a sewer to conquest. Anything in this stinkin beautiful eye sore! Edited by Snow White, Jun 4 2014, 06:04 PM.
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| Damon | Jun 4 2014, 07:46 PM Post #39 |
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Ancient Bartender
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Owen was all but thrust to the head of the group as their spokesperson. Likely because he had the most authority to deal with this situation, but he also didn't know exactly everything about his mission. He stepped forward towards the woman, and bowed lightly. "I am Corporal Owen Cantor of the City Guard, my party has been charged with a task of the utmost importance by Our Lord Protector Himself. We must pass through." |
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| Volksgeist | Jun 5 2014, 01:28 AM Post #40 |
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The woman narrowed her eyes in scrutiny. "There are two issues with the case you make. The first is that you present yourself with this . . . motley crew of ne'er-do-wells. What business does a guardsman and two civilians have with a rat man, a faerie, and a half-giant? The other issue is that it is more than hard to believe that whatever business you and your . . . er, companions, carry within the gated community of the Garden District comes directly from the most powerful man in the world. Either you are lying or you are committing the crime of omission - both of which will gain you no admittance into my district. Now, either you reveal to me your true business within the Garden District or you will be removed from the premises by force." The woman uncrossed her arms and clamped her hands down on her hips, her eyes fixed on Owen.
Edited by Volksgeist, Jun 5 2014, 01:28 AM.
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| Damon | Jun 5 2014, 03:56 AM Post #41 |
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Ancient Bartender
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Owen sighed, he was afraid of this. He had been given no proof of his orders, he himself did not know for a fact that they came from the top, it was only what his superiors told him. He trusted his Captain, but could not prove his mission. He wondered if his companions' recruiters had left them any proof of their endeavors. "Excuse me then Ma'am, for just a moment." He stepped back to his compatriots and lowered his voice. "Unless you lot have something to prove your mission, I'm going to have to try something else." Owen somehow doubted they had anything, though he indeed knew little of how they were chosen and what they were told to do. He did not wait to hear responses. He returned to the gate and showed his empty baton holster. "Very Well, Ma'am, I understand your skepticism and agree that my charges have no proof of their legitimate business here. I however, must ask you for access to the barracks in this district. You see, while escorting my charges this far, we were involved in a disturbance of sorts, and my baton was lost in the line of duty. If I am to return to the more dangerous areas of the city, it would not due to be without it. I need to put in for a replacement before I return." He spoke calmly and politely. This wasn't the type he usually had to persuade, but he knew how to talk to authoritative people as well. He hoped that this entirely legitimate reason would allow him to at least perform a bit of reconnaissance, if not slip away and find an alternative entrance for his companions. |
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| Brackenwood | Jun 5 2014, 04:33 AM Post #42 |
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OOC: Identification card given to me and approved by our benevolent lord Volksgeist. Julius barely had time to raise a finger before the Corporal had turned to try his newest tactic, which in all likelihood would be met with just as much skepticism and scrutiny as his first bid. Reaching into the left-hand breast pocket of his clothing, Julius produced a small rectangular piece of hard plastic with his picture and the official seal of Ostenmund Stamped on it, a military passport. Just how and where he got such a thing was a matter up for debate and perhaps later questioning. Stepping up behind the Corporal, Julius allowed himself to adopt a more serious demeanor before handing his card to the woman and chiming in. "Julius Sinclair, Ma'am. Ostenmund military. I'm afraid the Corporal is telling the truth Ma'am. We have been tasked by Captain Xathes with a mission of the utmost importance to the city. I am not at liberty to discuss the details of this mission with you or anyone outside of our party. Simply know that this team was chosen based on their their unique set of...talent rather than appearance. We will conduct what business we have in the garden district as quickly and quietly as possible so as not to disturb the locals, and then we will depart. You have my word." Julius ended his speech with a sharp click of the heel and a salute. Never once averting his eyes from those of the woman. His station in the military did not carry much weight, but it would be enough for this. |
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| POOHEAD189 | Jun 5 2014, 04:44 AM Post #43 |
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The train car wasn't uncomfortable, and Berek spent the majority of the ride in a silent reverie. He simply calmed himself and steeled his mind for what was to come. Lights and darkness flickered by him through the windows, making him seem like some rogueish guardian instead of a simple blacksmith. What was to come was completely different than he expected, though to say he was shocked was untrue. The large artisan hardly ever felt true surprise. His mind had wandered too often, and he had a quiet confidence in himself. Other than his work, life was a spectators sport to him. Berek flanked Owen, standing a foot behind him and to his right, his dark eyes betrayed an observational intelligence as he gazed at the woman, occasionally glancing at Owen as he spoke. His thoughts whirred in his head. Perhaps if they gave the woman an accurate description of the Lord Commander, she might be convinced. Surely few people in the city could have ever treated with him. Edited by POOHEAD189, Jun 5 2014, 04:46 AM.
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| Volksgeist | Jun 5 2014, 04:47 AM Post #44 |
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When Owen stepped forward and gave his speech about needing a new baton, the woman simply narrowed her eyes. She seemed about to say something when Julius stepped forward and produced a thin, plastic card with his own picture and the official stamp of the Western United Protectorate's military on it. His demeanor was one that was frank, and while that might have been seen as some sort of minor political offense in another conversation, it seemed more than apt here. The woman flashed the card to the two men flanking her, then gave a light smile and returned it. "Assuming what you say is correct, which it seems to be, I will allow you two to pass through this gate . . . so long as this man is who he says he is." Owen's flash of his own credentials earned a second smile. The woman nodded. The two armed men brought their guns up and the gate was opened by the woman just enough to allow the two men to pass through it, being closed directly after. "As for these others, I am afraid you are not allowed within the reaches of this district. Non-humans are explicitly prohibited from entering the Garden District and, well, those who associate with them freely outside of duty are held in just as high a regard." The woman's eyes fell on Berek. Turning to Owen and Julius, the woman nodded. "If you will follow me." With that, the woman turned and began to walk, one of the guards following behind Owen and Julius and the other remaining near the gate to make sure the nonhumans stayed where they were supposed to - namely outside. The woman led Owen and Julius up the stairway they had seen - one that was quite a bit shorter than the one they had descended in Red Run. As they came out of the opening, they immediately recognized the difference in environment. The air seemed cleaner, the streets certainly less full. The shop fronts were painted with bright colors and flora was everywhere to be seen, from brick gardens to flowerpots outside store windows. On top of this, the same nature sounds seemed to be quietly seeping from far-off speakers here too, as well as the accompanying light fall of water from various fountains. The most perplexing aspect of it all, though was the fact that, above them, there was a sky. It wasn't grimy and black, like it was all over Ostenmund, nor was the Bonewark anywhere to be seen. Instead, it was a pale blue, smudges of white drifting slowly across it. As their eyes drank it all in, they made note that, some ways off, they could see the boundaries of the district - high cement walls that towered above the buildings and were fixed with some sort of metal riveting on top. The woman spoke: "Now, what business do you have here? I can point you in the right direction and this can be over as soon as possible." The nonhumans of the group were left below, outside the gate and between the strange depot and the Under-Rail tracks themselves. The guard didn't seem too interested in them, so long as they weren't took close to the gate. Still, there was a clear issue at hand - they were supposed to be on the job too. The words of the Hypnogogue echoed in their minds - if one failed, everyone failed. They would have to figure out some way, in the very least, to help out in some respect. |
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| Damon | Jun 5 2014, 05:40 AM Post #45 |
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Ancient Bartender
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Owen kept pace with the guard woman as she led them through the beautiful district. He muttered to himself, but loud enough for the others to hear, "Remind me to put in for transfer when all this is through.", he quickly composed himself as their host asked the nature of their mission. "Well ma'am, my orders came from my district commissioner, down in the commune. I was told a team had been recruited to act on behalf of our Lord Protector. I am to escort them and ensure the security of their mission. That is the extent to my knowledge on the matter, which explains my bumbling at the gate. Oh, and I do need a new baton, I don't know when I will be able to see my quartermaster." Owen had been rambling, he felt. Trying to cover for looking foolish. He was out of his element between the open air and lack of skullduggery to worry about. He was beginning to wonder if he was chosen for this task because he was dependable, or expendable. It did not matter, in the end. His duty was his duty. He was honor bound to see this through. |
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11:59 PM Jul 10