Solidarity in Chaos (Open to All)

[Myles Arnnett]

The sound of men hastily donning armor surrounded them. Myles sighed wearily hoping that these rumors were untrue but knowing better than to be unprepared. Zaichaer’s defence core like the city was made mostly of human’s, but there were plenty enough from the nob that had joined up for a chance at a higher station via the military. I was from one of these recruits that Myles had been handed a newspaper warning of a dire situation approaching. Strapping on shields and buckling on their swords the men all grumbled. Myles had ordered the Heavier plate armors from the barracks. Significantly more cumbersome than the patrol chain mails they were used to.

A nearby minder scoffed at them, believing them to be preparing for a fools errand. “Hurry yourselves up, if anyone isn’t fully geared in the next five minutes you’ll be running a lap around the city tonight” Myles could sense the urgency in those that feared the worst and couldn’t help but feel a tense knot forming in his gut. He hoped that whatever this was or would be was noting more than the machinations of a mediocre magi.

In five minutes, he had before him a group of men numbering in the forties, all nervous and unsure of what exactly they could do to prevent an invisible threat. Myles swallowed his nerves, he needed to provide these men a plan, a goal, something concrete to proceed towards. “Men, take heart, for we are the Shields of Zaichaer!” Banging his sword against his shield Myles searched the eyes of the men and women before him. “We must hope for the best, and prepare for the worst, this is our solemn duty. We will march in formation towards the Knob, if the threat is a coward a simple show of force in the area may scare it off. From there we will set up a sweep and patrols.” Pointing his iron hand at the tower of the Minders Myles sneered. “The minders say we’ve nothing to fear, that we are running a fools errand so that a simple news rag can make fools of us.” Clenching his fist and banging it against this breast he looked back to his men. “I won’t speak for the rest of you. But I’d rather be the man who was there when he wasn’t needed, than be the man who wasn’t there when he was. So prepare your hearts, and sharpen your eyes, this morning we go a hunting!” “Horrah” His men sounded back to him and Myles turned on his heel. All in toe behind him Myles had forty-eight men, twenty spears, ten great swords, five axe men, and thirteen men with crossbows. They’d also brought a wagon pulled by two oxen, mostly empty save for ammo and some medical supplies. That and a not insignificant amount of candy. When asked by the clerk about the requisition Myles had simply stated “Public relations”.

With all that in tow the soldiers set off from the barracks towards the knob, all hoping for the best and fearing for the worst.

[Franky]

Franky was scanning the room, his staff already ushering people into the basement. All children were sent down there, without exception, along with their parents. Anyone else at the Gobbler who did not volunteer to help defend the topside was being ushered as well. His eyes fell on Lyra and Rickter who were talking now about the defenses they were setting up. The man was a surprise, he'd been coming in quite often lately, a big fan of the food the Gobbler served, especially on buffet nights. Franky had no idea that the man both knew Lyra and was apparently a very accomplished mage.

Just went to show that one could never truly know who was or was not a mage.

Franky heard a small voice, and he looked down, seeing a tidy mess of red curls, a small woman offering up a tin cup of cocoa. Franky stooped down, gently taking the cocoa. Franky recognized her. She ran a small little cafe further down the Knob. They'd never formally met, and yet here she was, doing what she did best to bring people comfort. "Thank you, Mimsy is it?"

Franky took one sip of the cocoa, and he felt warmth pass through his chest, worry beginning to melt away. It was absolutely divine, exactly what Franky needed in this moment. "It's delicious." He even smiled just a bit. He made a note to visit her cafe one day if they made it through all this. "I'm glad you're here." A bit more of a grin growing, "If you need to use the kitchen, by all means."

And Franky went back to his work, his chin held just a bit higher, his shoulders a bit more relaxed. He could see Millie there, working under the direction of Weston, a woman that had come with her being escorted into the basement. Her mother, perhaps? She looked about ready to crawl out of her skin there, and having known Millie for a year now, he wouldn't be surprised if her mother was not the most accepting of nonhumans.

A bard he did not know was now playing a song as she was escorted into the basement. A comfort, perhaps, to those down there. At the very least, it might cover some of the sounds of what was to come. Another small voice called his name and Franky saw a face he'd not seen for a few seasons now. The Reconciliator Lysanrin. There was a hint of annoyance behind Franky's eyes, not at Thysbae's presence himself, but rather of those he represented. Of course the Reconciliators would be coming, Franky had expected them.

And he'd expected them to be far earlier than now.

Franky already knew that the majority of the Zaichaeri government that had heard about Franky's warning in the paper were ignoring it. To stay in the darkness of ignorance. It seemed that they were still intent on trying to control everyone, instead. A stern face was looking at Thysbae, "Reconciliator Thysbae. To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from your office?"

Franky was not even bothering to hide Lyra and Rickter's work. He also saw Weston moving in close, from behind, on Thysbae, and Meriel's hand was on her sword at her as she flowed through the room toward them. Franky had told them the Reconciliators might come, and that they may attempt to dismantle the defenses Lyra was putting in place. They were to do anything necessary to prevent that from happening.

Franky would certainly sacrifice the lives of a few Reconciliators for the safety of everyone else at the Gobbler, and his eyes on Thysbae showed that conviction, even if the words had not yet been uttered.

Off Topic

Paragon is posting next, of the storm's arrival at 11am, approximately 30 minutes from the timestamp when this thread started. Following his post, the various threads for the teams will be put up and moving from there. The teams will be as such. Unle

Solidarity (Basement) - Anyone who is seeking shelter in the basement, with Oaky.
Solidarity (Bar Room) - Main room with Weston, Merielle, Franky, and Lyra
Solidarity (Kitchen) - Kitchen with Evzark, Zeerd, Chestnut, Dirdy
Solidarity (Theater) - the Theater on main floor with Gug and Glasha
Solidarity (Second Floor) - Upstairs with Bob, Birx, Haroth, and Shel
Solidarity (Outside) - For anyone not physically inside the Gobbler.

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

34 Searing 122 - 11:00 AM

There was no mistaking the moment it happened. The explosion shook the ground. It sent the air around the building within the Smokestack sector careening away from it with a disastrous intensity. People in the immediate vicinity of the building that exploded, were obliterated entirely, dead before they could even register the catastrophe that would unfold around them. They, perhaps, were the lucky ones.

The fortunate souls who took shelter within the Old Mines were spared. The stone entrance to the mines cracked only slightly and the rumblings of the earth only saw a shaking of the old mine shafts. Deep beneath the earth, the Moratallen and those that had huddled there with them were safe from the initial blast that rocked through the Knob, breaking most everything in its path. As the shockwaves reverberated outward from the blast site, the cloud of prismatic dust and ash rose higher and higher into the skies, creating a pillar of unmistakable destruction. Such a thing would be plainly visible to those loitering outside the Hobbled Gobbler. The world around the blast became limned in a blue-violet and green hue as the energies of the blast cascaded outward, pelting the surrounding area with debris from the explosion.

Within moments, the blastwave from the initial explosion slammed into the neighborhood where the Hobbled Gobbler stood. Those foolish few who had ignored the warnings were knocked off of their feet, some were crushed under falling debris. Others were hit so hard by the blastwave that it slammed them into opposing structures, rendering them unconscious. Unprotected windows shattered. Roofs were torn off buildings and the ground quaked beneath their feet.

And then the Mists belched forth into the world. They poured like a waterfall from the screaming tear that was ripped open in the skies. In minutes, a quarter of the city was blanketed by the Dread Mists.

Myles troupe of soldiers withstood the initial blast, their sharp training kicking in immediately as the blastwave rocked through the neighborhood. Bringing up shields and covering themselves spared most…at first. Until the falling debris landed with enough force to crush several beneath its weight. It was when the Mists poured into the streets that the horror began. Before his eyes, Myles would watch as at least a dozen of the soldiers with him screamed in blistering agony as their bodies writhed and contorted, limbs snapping and bones beginning to morph at odd angles. Their frenzied screams became gurgling roars as any trace of humanity was ripped away from them and they transformed into grotesque monstrosities that immediately launched themselves into mad attacks on everything around them.

The first blast that hit the Hobbled Gobbler made the building quake. Dust falling from the rafters served as the preamble before the building and its fortifications were struck in full force. Instantly, the layers of arcane defenses kicked in, the many glyphs and symbols etched into its surface all flaring to life as the barriers and shields activated in order to fortify the building and at least 50 ft. in a radius around it. A dome of shielding became immediately visible around the tavern and its perimeter out to that radius. The groan of the effort it took to withstand the destruction could be heard as the blastwave washed over the barrier. And then the first wave of the Mists rolled through the area. Those within the Hobbled Gobbler and within the 50 ft. radius around it remained unaffected by the chaotic energies rolling through the neighborhood. But those poor souls just beyond it….some were immediately vaporized. Some became solid stone or aetherite crystal. Others saw the skin split from their bodies as it grew eyes and mouths in strange places, growling to life as their own flesh yanked itself away from them to become a writhing beast of flesh beyond their control in an agonizing and horrifying display of twisted reality. Only for those same skinless people to suddenly be consumed by the beasts made from their own writhing flesh. Yet more saw nothing happen to them at all as they simply screamed and ran in terror.

The sirens blared. The cannons of the Presidium fired, releasing their anti-magic shells and gas. The Dread Mists immediately began to be eaten away by the counteractive properties of these defenses. The spread of the mists was halted and the air rapidly began to fill with the gas that was expelled by the city’s protectors. Indeed, this gas found its way to the perimeter of the Hobbled Gobbler and latched onto them, seeping into the wards like water being fed to a dry waste. The defenses of the Hobbled Gobbler surged and its protective perimeter expanded to a radius of 100 ft.

And then the star fell from the skies.

Buildings were torn asunder. The destruction that rippled outward saw the entrance to the mines collapse. For better or worse, those who had sheltered in the deep earth were now trapped there. Safe, perhaps, from the catastrophe unraveling above ground, but trapped unless another way out was found.

Even those buildings some blocks away from the initial blast began to crack and crumble as their foundations shook from the sheer force of the impact. But the worst of it had only just begun.

The mists that had been briefly held back and even halted by the city’s defenses suddenly surged forth with volatile intensity, eating through the protective gas that had begun to blanket the streets. The hope that Zaichaer was prepared to weather such magical devastation evaporated in the eyes of those who witnessed it. Before they too became victims of the unfolding chaos.

Myles troupe of soldiers had managed to survive. They were not unprepared to deal with such monsters but though they fought bravely…the Chaos Storm surged forth and Myles could only watch as yet more horror was unleashed upon his soldiers.

The defenses of the Hobbled Gobbler crackled and snapped, groaning as the shields were brought near to buckling under the weight of the onslaught. The expanded radius withered to only 25 ft. around the tavern but shrunk no further. They held, by some miracle. They remained standing and all who were within the boundary of this protection remained safe. For now.

But the shriek of horrifying things now wandering the streets was warning enough. This protection would only temporary.

Off Topic

Dakkur - You are safe in the mines. You are trapped there. But you are safe.

Nathan, Myles - Through whatever means you devise, I will allow you to escape the initial blast with only minor injuries. However, the second blastwave and the ensuing Cat 4 Chaos Storm, will either cause serious injury or you will suffer some manner of mutation.

Everyone inside the boundary of the Hobbled Gobbler's defenses is unharmed and unchanged by the Mists. For now.

[Lyra]

Time: 10:17 am

As she walked up the stairs of the basement she turned to the sound of Rickter's voice, looking at him a long moment before simply nodding and motioning for both he and Hannah to follow. Now at the bar, she turned the three black spheres over in her hands, studying them. From her bag, she took out a sheet of parchment, ink, and quill and quickly drew out a pictograph on its surface, one that contained the tenants of Runeforging, and placed it on the bar's surface. The glyphs glowed slightly as the black stone was placed in the circle, but Lyra paid it little mind as she took up her small tools and began steadily carving at the surface of the stones.

The schema was simple. A connector rune in the shape of a coiled snake, a few links that wrapped the small piece of mage bane, and a final trigger placed on the opposite side. She repeated this pattern on the other two stones, finishing just as Rickter and Hannah joined her.

"Take these and place them in the corners marked with this glyph." Lyra said, handing the stones and another scrap of paper with a drawing on it to Rickter, "Create an anchor out of these tasked with reinforcing its immediate area."

She still had little to say to the Pup, so she looked away as soon as the task was accepted and began working on the next piece of the design. She doubted it would be much, but those three pieces of abjurnium would help shore up the defenses of the Tavern itself. If the wards for those activated... Well, it would spell the beginning of the end.

*****

Time: 10:35 am

The final touches were being put don't he defenses. Lyra stood behind the bar carefully carving a pictograph in the wood of the bar itself. This was the last piece, the control center of everything, and she had waited until last to complete it. Given the time she had to work with the defenses were far from perfect. Had she her way there would be no space or gaps in the walls where the scripts did not cover, yet this was what she was given to work with. She put the final mark in place and stepped back, looking around at her work and at the people that milled about. It would have to be enough.

*****

Time: 10:59 am

Lyra glanced up from the bar and looked out the window of the tavern. There was a... feeling, a tingling up her spine as every hair on her body stood up on end. Her eyes widened as she leaped to her feet.

"Rickter!" Her voice rang over the crowd, "It is time. Take your place."

No sooner had she said it the ground began to shake, and Lyra's eyes focused on the glyphs on the bar. From a pocket in her robes, she withdrew a pair of silver spectacles, aura glasses, and when she placed them on the world lit up with magic. The air was thick with it, flowing through the pathways she had etched across the gobbler. She passed a hand over the entire series of glyphs on the bar, each one activating, in turn, one after another, and with each one, the power that flowed through the tavern grew and expanded.

In the basement the large and complicated formations spun to life with visible light, the black stone gem at its core glowing brightly as power streaked out and filled the carved runes with power. The power raced upward, flowing through the tavern before bursting outward in a great expansive dome that snapped into place just in time.

Lyra grit her teeth, hands clutching at the wood of the bar desperately as she tried to keep her footing. The rest would be on Rickter outside, in the small circle just 3 feet from the door.

[Rickter]

10:17 am

Lyra acknowledged them with a gesture to follow her back upstairs, the wolf glancing down to Hannah afterward, as she raised an eyebrow before taking the initiative to follow along. Rickter of course went with the rogue as they passed those who were sent down. It was almost touching to him honestly... He wasn't at present to listen but the wolf had heard that Hobgoblin's speech, and his determination to carry out the protection of his entire neighborhood. The wolf couldn't help but respect that after he'd cooled off yesterday, and immersed himself immensely within his work of magic. Rickter made sure he wanted to match that same passion, hoping that for once the work of his wards would actually pull through for once.

Nothing short of a miracle, right?

When they returned to the bar at Lyra's side the Fae from the kitchen, the gingerly cook he'd come to known as Chestnut quickly brought out a cup of coffee. "Three spoonfuls love?"

"Well of course!" She jubilantly giggled as he accepted the mug, and for once loosened his features into a warm grin for the girl. She always smelled of honey and oat to him, though it was often masked by the amazing blend of flavors from her food also.

"Thanks." He rewarded before turning his attention to Lyra, admiring her attentive focus on the stones she'd started to work on. From how they felt even at this close proximity, he could easily compare the black stones to the magebane he'd taken. Just the mere thought of that memory unnerved him, but at least, now he knew such a thing could be useful as a boon to his magic as well. If he understood Lyra's intentions with them at least, they would at least act as a reinforcement for the wards that become tasked. The wolf drank his coffee steadily as he waited for the lady to do finish her work, his mug emptied as she started to pick up the stones along with a parchment.

As Lyra gave the next instruction Hannah looked at the design on the parchment, looking to Rickter afterward when she realized where that point was located. "That's outside..."

"Yup." The wolf figured as much as he felt the caffeine start to feed his senses, his walk rather brisk as he practically mirrored Lyra's behavior in turn. As he marched off Hannah rolled her eyes before following along, the pair waiting to weave their way around the crowd centered within the lobby.

*****

10:35 am

Aether glimmered wondrously into the sigil he touched as the pictographs glowed a radiance of light. Green and blue hues swayed within them as Rickter felt the aether merge with the scriptures, a fascinating detail for him to notice as he applied the last principle of the wards he needed to instill. One for wind, fire, and even aether itself. Backing up those tasks with another layer of properties he focused on his memories, recollecting every detail necessary to empower the main ward that would save all their lives. He reflected on his emblem for a moment but questioned his judgement, before giving into the idea and tapping into its dominion. I'm afraid that I need this power again... So please... make this work for us.

Rickter channeled aether through his left arm as he began to feel the emblem react, a warm heating sensation felt in his forearm as the mark glimmered with a silvery light. With a layering of that aether into the wards he created the second crucial role important to this task, he felt confident that the miststorms would be kept at bay with that application.

"Okay, the rocks are place." Hannah called out as Rickter looked over his shoulder, the wolf uncertain as to whether or not he should leave the circle now. From what he could felt the aetheric network of his wards were interwoven now, their composition somewhat a bit more flexible compared to the standard shields he would normally throw out. He honestly felt jealous of Lyra's work in the end, unwanting to admit that even she could teach him a thing or two.

The three Abjinurium stones were placed in separate circles connected by a bridge, which connected to the main schema he'd prepared, so they were likely a reinforcement protocol to the barriers. "Good. Think you can help me with this?" Hannah tilted her head toward him as he turned to face her, a moment of hesitation before she approached him to see what he needed. "I'm going to put one last reinforcement of my own, for good measure, but to make sure I conserve enough aether for it I need your Kinetics to help."

"Cooperative casting." She pointed out which merited a nod from the wolf, her brown eyes on him curiously now as she folded her arms. "What are you trying to do?"

"You're the better Fluxer here than I am, do you think a Push or a Lift would help against outside force?" At his inquiry Hannah stammered before she curled fingers through her hair, tucking it behind the ear as she looked aside thoughtfully at the idea.

"You'll wanna do a lift. Now show let's hurry and get this shit done." She urged with the brushing of her hands, the wolf softly smirking in response before he focused on pressing his hands together once more.

*****

10:50 am

After having a moment to step back in Rickter had the chance to enjoy a lemon cake, giving humble thanks to the tiny girl that brought them into the establishment. While Chestnut had found a way into his heart with her cooking, that sweet little gnome didn't take long to garner his adoration as well when he took a moment to enjoy the pastry. It was delicious and somehow soothing to his nerves now, the trembles in his hands no longer prevalent as he enjoyed them in the last few moments they had.

"I hate a lot of it." Hannah finally murmured as she'd stood next to him, the wolf hearing hear under the general bustle of the crowd inside. "I hate that you're right about this. That yet again you're putting yourself in harm's way." Rickter looked down at her somberly, understanding that feeling as he too had grown weary of it from time to time. Yet somehow... something in him demanded to continue the fight. And if he could not be the mountain that would protect these innocent people, then what good of a person was he if he'd abandoned them upon whim. No he had to try at the very least, because now he had reason to put pour everything into this.

He had reason to give it everything.

Lyra called out over the crowd and caught his attention, her warning received with an alert gaze as Rickter heard the air rattle outside. A loud boom rang into his ears as he quickly winced, the wolf covering them quickly as he felt the wards throughout the building activate. A powerful blast had clipped through the air, and the ensuing chaos of crashing debris and terrorized cries were just outside the door. The door! Rickter bolted for it with Hannah right behind him, a look shot at the rogue as he turned to make sure she stayed within. Hannah looked terrified to him, desperate not to let him go out alone even. Yet alone he went.

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter" "Hannah"

[Franky]

Dalma was the last of those heading into the basement. She'd been helping to usher and calm everyone who was heading underground into the most protected section of the Gobbler. She turned into Franky's arms. Her eyes were scared, not for herself, but for him. He'd told her about everything last night. This was not the confession of a man thinking he'd die in war on the morrow, but rather one who never left anything unsaid before going to battle. It was their way.

He told her about the visit from Malgar. He told her what Malgar had promised him, and what he received in exchange. He told her about the agreement with Lyra as well. She listened patiently, and when he'd finished, she smiled, lifting his head. She made him look her in the eyes, just as she was doing now in the basement door. "I know I am not alone in your heart, my Kor. Your heart is so big, each and every person here is within it." She pressed her lips to his, and he pulled her tight against him.

She reached down, thumbing his ring, "Save that for when you truly need it. We don't know what is coming." She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him. She whispered into his ear, "Remember who you were, who you are, and who you choose to be." With that, she slipped free of him, shutting the door behind her, barricading it from within.

Franky nodded to himself there, alone in the stairwell. Then he climbed back up into the kitchen, and continued upward into his private apartment. He made his way into his office, looking up at the wall. There, hanging on simple nails were the first two decorations of his admittedly spartan quarters. On the left, the longsword given to him by his mother when he was accepted into the Imperial army. On the right, the shield his sisters had bought for him upon completing his basic training with ease.

Franky sighed, looking at them. There was so much weight that came with those weapons. He'd wielded them against Sangen, Zythura, and at Beatrix's rebellion. He'd killed so much and so well, he'd earned the name the Scarlet Blade of Risea. Franky walked over to them, laying a hand upon the shield, closing his eyes. He never thought he'd have to pick them up again. To ever have to kill again. It mattered not if it was monsters or people. Every time Franky killed, he gave up another piece of himself.

He hefted the heavy shield off the wall. Heavier than her remembered. Or maybe he was just getting old and fat. He strapped it into his arm, finding it still fit perfectly though. There was a comfort in the way that the leather straps held just right. He reached up, plucking the sword and scabbard from their nails. Franky did a few practice twirls with his wrist, falling into the old flow with ease. After all, he'd been training his entire life, from his fifth birthday, as all people from his village did.

Franky looked in the mirror and almost laughed. He looked more like a Major now in his old age than he had when he'd earned it. Still, he was no major now. He was simply the leader of a group of scared people, fighting for their home and lives and counting on him. He stared at himself hard.

He wouldn't let them down.

Franky descended the stairs, moving through the kitchen, taking stock of those stationed there. The entire kitchen crew and Mimsy. Evzark was confidently standing there, a butcher knife in one hand, and a heavy cast iron frying pan in the other. Zeerd was nearby with a pair of viciously sharp carving knives. Dirdy looked pale but had his large rolling pin in hand. Chestnut though, Chestnut was pulling a surprising amount of small, throwing knives out of her mess of red curls, all the while humming a song everyone there felt was familiar, but none could place it. Franky nodded at Mimsy, surprised to see her here and not in the basement, but he was not about to turn her away either. Everyone had the right to protect their home if they wished.

Franky, sword on his hip, shield on his arm, strode into the barroom, seeing Weston and Meriel there. Meriel was cleaning her sword, and Weston was smoking. Lyra was nearby, busy with her own work. Franky did not interrupt her. She was a crucial protection point for his team. He found Thysbae and Millie there. He looked at both of them, knowing what Millie was capable of and what Thysbae had told him. "I'm giving you both crucial assignments. You're our runners. I need one of you going back and forth from the theater to here, relaying any information they have on the situation in the back alley. The other will be doing the same, but from upstairs and the front road. We cannot be caught by surprise and we must not let communication break down. Aid those in your areas until you have something to report. Go, now."

Franky moved to the stairs, climbing up to the second floor. Shel was in the Common Room, continuing to prepare torch bombs with the speed and precision expected of a skilled bartender. All of the rooms had their doors opened, but only every other window was barricaded with furniture. Bob was running patrol along the hall, keeping tabs on each room and unprotected window. Haroth and Birx each manned one of the windows, leaving a third opened.

Back downstairs, Franky crossed the barroom into the theater, seeing Glasha and Gug there. Both gave Franky the "We've got this under control," look and Franky trusted them. Glasha was a retired imperial soldier too, after all. And Gug was the reason why barfights did not last long in the Gobbler. Franky moved back into the barroom and opened the front door.

He stepped outside, meeting Rickter and Dante. He reminded them, "We'll have eyes on the front road and the back alley. If the alley begins to get overrun, we'll call for support." Franky's eyes were stern on his next point, "If you need help, call for it. Communication must not break down through all this. We can send support as needed, but only if we know what is going on."

Franky stepped forward, clasping each of them on the shoulder. "Fight knowing your back is covered, your heart is full, and song will be sung."

Franky was back in the barroom for less than a minute when the first explosion hit. It had begun, of that there was no doubt. The Gobbler shook and groaned, but she held up strong, dust spiraling down from the ceiling. Franky watched as the markings Lyra had carved sprang to life with power, holding the explosion at bay. Franky had been around enough explosions in his life to know that, just by the way the ground still hummed, that it had been a huge one. This was not artillery, not bombs dumped from the pregnant belly of an airship.

He closed his eyes. The one explosion began the story. The death toll would be massive. It was too populated not to be. He heard the sirens of Zaichaer wailing, and soon, the next blast hit. Franky was looking out the small slit of a window for the front of the barroom, seeing the barrier shrink closer to the Gobbler. The mists. He sighed. Explosions and dread mists... the storm that was not a storm. But the Gobbler had survived the first two hits. If it was just mists, a dark joke if he'd ever heard one, then it would be a war of attrition.

Franky felt a bit of the tenseness leave his shoulders. The Gobbler's defenses had held. He could work with that. Now it was time to wait, to see what would come next.

[Jane Farraway]

With an final heft, a long, oaken table was securely pushed against the last unprotected window in the bar room. Jane stepped back, panting, and took a minute to catch her breath. She had had to move chairs and tables all the time during working hours, but it seemed as though they were made all the more heavier with the deepening tension that permeated the room. The attack would be any minute now, or should be, if Franky's sources were correct. It was then that Jane heard her name being called over the din of commotion and noticed her mother pushing her way up the stairs. Bob followed her woefully, his measured pleas to persuade the woman back into the basement going unheard.

“Camilla, they are about to bar the doors! Are you coming or not?”, Carmen demanded.

All at once Jane felt like a little girl being scolded for straying too far, the stares of her coworkers adding to the embarrassment. Meriel lowered the sword she was busy polishing and moved to intercede, but Weston gently put up an arm and gave a slight shake of his head.

“I need to stay here, Mother. Please, go back downstairs. You'll be safe there.”, Jane said, taking some effort to remain stoic.

Carmen balked, “And what of you? Why decide to suddenly risk your life for these people?!”, She looked around and noticed the concern on the faces of the Gobbler Staff. The unspoken subtleties between people were of no stranger to her, far from it, and Jane could see the dawning realization spread across her mother's features.

“How--do you know these people...?”

Jane had mentally prepared herself for this moment since she first started working with Franky, but for all the rhetoric and hypothetical arguments she could not contend with a ticking clock that allowed her no time for niecities.

“I work for them, I work with them. I have been for the last year.”

The woman's face went pale, but her eyes burned with a fiery betrayal. All she could do was shake her head.

“I'm sorry.”, Jane breathed. Her mother remained silent.

“She's been one of our best servers--”, Weston started, but this time Meriel stopped him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. She gave him a sad smile and walked forward. Oaky, who had tried to sneak out of the basement in the commotion, was intercepted by her and lead white-knuckled to Carmen.

“Many apologies for the disturbances, Lady Farraway. Please allow Sir Stienholm to escort you back to the basement. Our proprietor requires that Camilla and our butler be at the ready.”, The Busboy whipped his head around as Bob smoothly glided past him.

“Behave yourself and perhaps you'll learn something,” Meirel whispered to Oaky as she traded him off.

Carmen's expression was flat, nearly sickened, her eyes glazed over bitterly. Jane desperately wanted to explain herself, but knew there was no time. Instead she watched her mother wordless go back into the basement with Oaky clueless in tow.

With little chance to process all that transpired, Franky appeared, wielding an imposing sword and sheild. The laid-back back bar owner had never hid his military history, but it had always been difficult for Jane to imagine him as anything close to a warrior. But now, his air alone spoke years of experience. Laying out the situation to her and a curious looking Lysanrin, she instantly claimed her position on the second floor. It was far more familiar to her than the theatre of which was still foreign to her since her return to work. The Lysanrin also seemed to be a Reconciliator, judging from the uniform, so she did not feel to particularly guilty in taking what seemed to be the “safest” option.

Running up the stairs, she found that Bob was already patrolling the common room with the better part of the bar staff setting up for their defenses. Already Jane felt out of her element; She had never had much of a rapport with the bar. Brix hardly spoke to her unless it was to point out a mistake or give unsolicited advice and Haroth and Shel somehow managed to make everyone else feel like a third-wheel while simultaneously hating each other.

Bickering was thick in the air as they set boxes of torch bombs at every open window. The sight of the open windows sent Jane into a panic and she attempted to pull the shutters close. As she did, Shel pushed her back. Just as the bar back was about to lay into her, the eleventh hour struck.

The air pressure shifted violently; All except Bob dropped to the floor and grabbed their ears as they painfully popped. Several of the torch bombs hissed and sputtered, spraying accelerant out from the cloth stoppers. One cracked and Brix inspected it, staring bewildered at the hexagonal pattern that now latticed the glass. A tremendous, unearthly force had struck them, but whatever defenses had been put in place spared them the full effects of the blast. Shel clutched Haroth, shaking, while the Lysanrin who was by rank the de-facto authority on the floor pressed his back into the wall. Dull explosions soon followed, explosions that felt too close to be as muffled as they were. This in part emboldened the crew to look out the window.

Zaichaer as they knew it was in ruins. The destruction had been far beyond what Jane or anyone would have imagined. Missles rained down on the Knob, fired from Zaichaer's own forces, and Air Ships released some gas onto the buildings below. Through tears, Jane adjusted her glasses and the world burned in strange colors and aberrant patterns. The weapons that the State fired at itself seemed to be anti-magic artillery, a desperate resort. Sirens screamed louder than the explosions, but they could not hide the cries and bestial shrieks that rang throughout the city.

It was surreal, as if viewing someone else's horrifying nightmare, but this new reality would soon prove itself to be all too real. With little warning, something was flung through the window, nearly hitting Bob as he slid out of the way. Shel roared, lighting a torch bomb and sent it sailing through the window at whatever enemy, real or perceived, that lay outside.

[Myles Arnnett]

In a spear they marched. Myles the point, two shield men behind him, and three behind them, and so on until the column was six men wide. In that formation they marched towards the Knob. Their first stop the origin of the news that had warned of such dire events. With luck perhaps all “disaster” could be avoided with the help of a simple conversation, if their was any disaster at all. The men whispered among each other all manner of theories floating about between them.

Of course, it came without warning, as they marched the only thing they saw they gave them any warning was the flash that came before the sound or shock. “Shields UP!!!!” Myles Yelled slamming his heavy tower shield into the ground before him, the men on both sides of him similarly slamming their shields in formation with him, and thus the arrow was formed, their formation splitting the force allowing it to go around and over them rather than through. Still as strong as Myles was the sheer force that slammed into them numbed his arm and shoulder and similarly stymied many men in their ranks buckling their wall. As soon as Myles thought the worst was over the second blast came, with less time to react to an even stronger blast their formation was torn asunder. The remains of a lamp post whistled from nowhere skewering two men to Myles left, another to the right was crushed and smeared by a chimney. All Myles could hear was screaming, even as he saw men yelling at him he couldn't hear them over the screaming that now seemed to overwhelm all other noise.

A hand on his shoulder spun Myles around to face a soldier whose arm now had at least eight more joints than it should and nothing where his eyes should be. Flinching back Myles realized that among his surviving men several had begun to warp into abominations. Was one of them the source of the screaming he wondered in what little sanctity his mind still offered. Still knocked somewhat silly Myles began to register one of his men pinned down by a creature seemingly formed from the two bulls that had pulled the wagon, and a soldier merged into one fleshy mass, it was goring the men it could reach with it's jagged horns, already a soldier was Impaled on one of the beasts heads.

Ripping sword from sheath and charging on instinct Myles roared defiantly in the face of this hell unleashed upon him. Nearby the ground exploded sending bricks and cobblestones spraying into the air, looking to the source Myles spotted a the metal shell of an anti magic round spewing its cleansing smoke. Cursing the men who'd fired so close on his position but wasting no opportunities given he dashed for the small crater holding his breath as he plunged into the smoky hole. Feeling his hands wrap around the sputtering shell Myles ripped it from the ground before scrambling out of the hole and running toward the warped oxenbeast that was goring his surviving men. Letting a roar loose from his mouth Myles ran toward the monster swinging the anti magic shell in an ark into one of its giant ugly heads.

The monster shrieked and choked on the mist the stuff seeming to burn the retched creature. Still with no time to rest he swung his sword into the beast pressuring it along with a few spear men who’d survived the initial blasts.

When at last the pitiable misshapen mass of man and ox moved no more, its warped form ill suited to survival, particularly after being stabbed so many times. Pulling his helmet up Myles wretched onto the ground feeling unsteady. This can’t be real…

[Dakkur Doelish]

The deeper Dakkur was led into the mines, the thinner the crowd started to become. Had the entire situation for the day been like his expectations, he would have expected nothing more since happy fun time games were not for everyone and there could only be enough space to accommodate everyone interested in participating but for some war or at least rumors of from the local tabloid? "Looks like people believe in the official channels more" or Dakkur assumes as living in the other end of Zaichaer with the much more flourishing population of the city, he was more exposed to the usual government propaganda that the war effort was going well, everything is going to be fine, get ready for the next parade and of course, do your part and contribute to the army so we can destroy our enemies more than they have already been destroyed! However he himself being too vague about it had his guide ask about what he meant and when Dakkur himself explained, the other just said not everyone could afford to take the day off for a maybe attack even if the information came from a respected member of the community in the Knob.

Ah, capitalism. What a delightful thing.

Because what else could explain what he saw at the end of the line. "Wow, you aren't kidding when you said you were preparing for an attack. You could probably feed the Haqs for a week!" That was a joke of course, the Haqs could easily feed itself so it was no surprise the joke went woosh. But what had Dakkur even more attentive was the weapons, just as much that "if the attack doesn't come through we can strike back at em and take it all the way to Vykul!" Too much? But that was the size of it and Dakkur had to wonder "how long did you guys even prepare for this? Wasn't the news of the attack pretty recent?" What if the mines had been preparing some sort of insurrection all along and now Dakkur had become complicit as just another one of those stinking traitorous moratallen? He did not have to worry about it though as it seems that the weapons had only just been prepared. "How?" Well that was one way to do it but does prove the truth in the saying.

Although he also was not too surprised that the mines were lacking in some but by then Dakkur was left well alone to get acquainted. He searched around the area looking to see if there was anything else more interesting before he went to have a talk with the other moratallen about the likelihood of an attack and the absurdity of this entire situation. He could only be glad that it was not him who made the assertion that there will be an attack today since if it fails, it would be an unforgivable blunder which has cost way too much time and money from what he had learned. "You know, maybe we should have that party then we can still make the best of it" he said pointing at the food. Weapons? He had his own which had some people misidentifying him as someone more in the local moratallen community although someone like him would not even be satisfied in that position. He should be higher if nothing else and if someone wanted him to prove it he could always show them the party favors he brought along since a place like the mines was still not somewhere he had tested them at yet.

That said, news is they were quite useful in the field.

All attempts of making the most of this wasted situation soon became unnecessary as a loud resounding boom made even the mines shake was proof enough that somehow the tabloid was right about the attack. It was easy to tell who actually believed the tabloid and who was in the mines for other reasons, Dakkur being identifiable as the latter, as it was only the latter who seemed unprepared for the attack and froze in place while most other people had already ducked for cover. Dakkur was with the others after the initial panic subsided, making sure they were not yet dead and the tougher of the moratallen making sure there would not be a cave in and through it all, with more shaking and rumblings the news finally came that they were buried in.

"What now?" he asked the other moratallen by him before a quick deliberation had him dragged along towards the surface to try and find out what was going on whether or not he wanted to since if anything else dangerous happened, at least they knew Dakkur was one of the few who actually had a good weapon on him.

[Aegis]

REVIEW TIME

Franky
Lores: 8

Loot: none
Injuries: none

Points: 12

Comments:


Lyra
Lores: 8

Loot: none
Injuries: none

Points: 12

Comments:


Ricky
Lores: 8

Loot: none
Injuries: none

Points: 12

Comments:


Mimsy
Lores: 4 (1/2 rounded up)

Loot: none
Injuries: none

Points: 6 (1/2 rounded up)


Jane
Lores: 8

Loot: none
Injuries: none

Points: 12

Comments:


Euripides
Lores: 3 (1/3 rounded up)

Loot: none
Injuries: none

Points: 4 (1/3 rounded up)


Nathan Cross
Lores: 3 (1/3 rounded up)

Loot: none
Injuries: none

Points: 4 (1/3 rounded up)


Dakkur
Lores: 6 (3/4 rounded up)

Loot: none
Injuries: none

Points: 9 (3/4 rounded up)


Thysbae
Lores: 2 (1/4 rounded up)

Loot: none
Injuries: none

Points: 3 (1/4 rounded up)


Dreyfus
Lores: 3 (1/3 rounded up)

Loot: none
Injuries: none

Points: 4 (1/3 rounded up)


Myles
Lores: 6 (2/3 rounded up)

Loot: none
Injuries: none

Points: 8 (2/3 rounded up)