Back Into Madness [Aurin]

[Rune]

The breeze was picking up, which made two noticeable changes.

First flowing tip of the structure began to wave more wildly, and the three figured standing at the edge of the bridge could now see that the entire thing was covered in similar, though smaller undulating forms. For all the world it looked like some sort of underwater plant structure being moved by the current.

Second, whatever was following them was emitting some sort of gas, or else kicking a significant enough amount of dust into the air that it could be seen, in little puffing wisps, as the wind swirled around the horses hooves. The animals danced where they stood, nickering and nervous.

To one side, about twenty feet from the party of adventurers something pushed or pulled itself up out from between the flagstones. It was just a smudge at first, but after a moment a little hand could be seen, webbed and nearly black, then a head and a second hand. A glance behind or two the other side would reveal more, similar but not identical creatures. They weren't large, about the size of a large house cat, but all four of their limbs gleamed sharpy and their mouths were nothing but spiking rows of teeth. The first one to fully pull his form, from an impossibly small crack in the road hissed quietly, ears rotating for information but eyes locked on the party. The gas or dust that had been seen was thicker now and seemed to come from the little creatures; not from their mouths but just puffing out of them as they moved. In the moment after the first hiss a dozen more sounded, coming from every direction except the bridge.

Suddenly a rat, obviously realizing that this was not the place to be, scuttled out from a pile of discarded clothing and tried to run for the nearest building. Half way he ran through one of the puffs of gas and began to convulse, twitching and foaming at the mouth until the little body simply split from chin to tail along his belly, turned half inside out and died.

!

Message from: Rune

You have one round to decide what to do before the creatures will attack people and horses. The gas being emitted will damage flesh and, if breathed, internal organs. Semblance Information: The gas creatures are partly spirit, partly physical. They are alive, they are angry. The structure is made of dozens of individual plant life forms clinging together to sustain themselves. They do not appear agitated or hostile, for the moment. They are hungry.

[Aurin]

Aurin got the sense that the Sunsingers were speaking some sort of cant, but if he was offended that they didn't trust him at this late stage of the game, the peril was of greater concern at the moment. For a moment, he wondered whether his illusions would be strong enough to stand up to nova fire; he didn't know exactly how strong they were relative to him, but now wasn't the time for academic questions. He was nodding when the demon cats began to arrive.

"Fuck. Understood, sir."

The novice Railrunner had no trouble falling into line given he had seen Ansel in a fight and knew he knew better how to organize a team than Aurin ever would. He didn't even have snark to offer back to Imogen.

"Fuck that," he said as the rat died horribly. He turned the head of his horse toward the bridge to do as the senior Sunsinger bade him do. His mount was only too happy to skip away from the monsters and the hungry mists that licked at its hooves. They raced toward the bridge, and with nearness, he was able to sense better what the structure was. The horse smelled something wrong soon after Aurin was alerted, and so it didn't fight him when he slowed it down to a halt.

Horsehide shivered under his touch, but it seemed to be similar to Aurin in that—given it didn't know what to do in this situation—it was better to let calmer heads prevail. The horse was less enthused when he turned it around and galloped back to his companions, who were now armed and engaging with the spirit-bound abominations. His report would have to wait until the little demons were dealt with, because nova fire would be necessary to scare away or burn through those plants, he figured.

Steel flashed in his hand. A blade coated in necromantic ichor spun end over end toward one of the monsters attempting to flank Imogen.

He could have just vaulted through the plant structure, but he was trying to be a team player these days.

[Imogen]

"Eeeehhh-" Imogen said, watching the rat choke to death out of the corner of her eye. "Aw, fuck."

Her mother had always said she wished Imogen had learned to make a flaming guard rather than simply break spells. 'You hit things hard enough as is!' she would say, scowling, 'Isn't it better to survive battles too?'

Well, too late for good advice now. Neither she nor Ansel were Flamewardens. Spellbreaker fire would burn away poisons, magical or otherwise, but she didn't think it would act quickly enough to let her get in close range. It was a shame that she hadn't made a pact with a giant fan.

Gods, Imogen hoped that wasn't going to be her last thought.

"Try to keep a perimeter, slow retreat to the bridge." Ansel said to Imogen, "Get ready to run if the gas gets too close."

The Orkhan woman nodded, then called forth her remaining Pact Weapons. An enormous partisan materialized behind her, joined a moment later by a sparsely-decorated quarterstaff, inset with dawnstone at one end.

Imogen dropped her sword, which declined to fall, hanging in the air, and grabbed the staff, focusing the spellbreaker fire into the illumite shard she'd pilfered from the Railrunners two months ago. After a moment establishing the channel between the unworked dragonshard and herself, the Sunsinger let the gem shine with argent radiance. She'd thought the purifying stone might be helpful if they ran into aggressive Dread Mists like she'd seen in Ecith; it wasn't likely to do much to actual clouds of acid, but the purifying light might still discomfit the weird little beasts themselves.

(In any event, she'd rather be holding something with the length to try to whack the creatures from a distance)

Hefting the glowing staff aloft as though she were a real wizard, Imogen sent her spear and sword sailing towards the closest monsters, then nudged her horse to start it moving backwards towards the bridge. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ansel materialize additional spears--she'd never gotten him to admit to exactly how many polearms he'd chosen to use as his Pact weapons--and aim them at the monsters approaching from the other side. His mouth was moving, silently; probably instructions to the Aidolon she'd never actually caught a glimpse of.

Definitely could use a huge fan right now, though. She thought.

[Rune]

The wisps of gas seemed to emit directly from the Mist Spawn creatures and dissipate fairly quickly once outside of them, though if several huddled in the same spot it would begin to build up around them.

The whole pack of them was difficult to count as they moved contentiously and sometimes slipped in and out of the flagstones as though the road was shallow water. One darted for the elder Sunsinger's horse as the party began to retreat slowly toward the bridge, pulling up short at the last moment to arch and hiss, sounding like volcanic heat being released through it's odd mouth that seemed to open sideways. The horse started and reared but did not throw his rider as the elder man took expert control of his mount. The old man muttered a curse under his breath and then something else that sounded like a curse that had been translated through another realm. As the air left his lungs in a near whisper it seemed to echo around the group, as though a thousand tiny portals had opened to repeat the sound in random spots in a dome surrounding them.

The vibration of unnatural air moving into the natural world hurt against the deepest part of the inner ear of any creature who could hear it; a feather brush of pain, like the moment before the pop of coming down from heights. Then there was a POP and the bubble of air burst, sending little gusts that smelled of shattered glass and molten lead rushing out towards the gaseous creatures. It did not seem to harm them, but it did brush most of the gas skittering back down the streets like Ash leaves being swept from doorways.

Harmed or not, none of the creatures liked what had happened, some darted back, others sank part way into the ground or arched in a chorus of hisses. Moments were gained, giving the horses time to get themself over the threshold of the bridge, but moments were all.

The creatures were angry now, advancing as a group, wary, stalking sideways, barbed paws extending claws, teeth bared. Though they were a group they attacked as individuals, one or two at a time, leaping unnaturally high to try and slash at equine flanks or the legs of the riders.

!	Message from: Rune
	In addition to your post please include the results of rolling two d4 and one d20. (I need the d4 separately, not added together and you can just choose numbers if you want since you don't know what they will do.) The gaseous creatures are attacking, defend yourselves.

[Aurin]

"So... funny story about the bridge," he began as his compatriots edged back toward it, "is that the little addition is made of hungry plants. I don't suppose it's some pet of the Kindred that you know how to bypass?"

With a quick alignment of the pathways through reality, he hitched his blade back into his hand. That was going to be quite helpful if he had to keep throwing things. While not the Grymalka's prize student, he surmised there was enough ichor on the blade to use it again, he flicked his wrist toward another cat-demon before hitching his blade back in hand once more. He was doing his part as they retreated, leaving the more heavily armed Sunsingers to the front line. He just hoped their pyrotechnics could get them past the plants.

When his blade didn't have enough ichor to work on the cats, he concentrated, trying to pull all three of them under an effective glamour while keeping their senses intact. If they could baffle the plants, the cats, and the mists, perhaps they could sneak through the plants without problem, but they needed to be able to see each other and themselves in order to fight and maneuver in the meantime.

His mount danced backward, and while he could hear the clatter of hooves, their enemies ought to be deaf to them by now. He tried to gauge the success of his glamour under duress as they were squeezed between the proverbial rock and the hard place. While he didn't know if the cats could sense things magically, given they were part spirit, he tried to cloud their auras as well. No big deal. No big deal. No big deal. He wished the Menagerie would be its old self just waiting for them to arrive, but somehow this looked like it was going to be a series of jumps from frying pans into more destructive fires.

► Show Spoiler

2d4 = 3; 1d20 = 19.

[Imogen]

"Hungry plants?" Imogen demanded, incredulous, "We had better get moving before the damned *stones* start, then."

A sentiment more easily expressed than interrogated, she had to admit. She was comfortable relying on her shield--an enormous round affair, nearly five foot in diameter, and broad enough to comprehensively block attacks from one flank--to allow her to focus while assailed on all sides, but a good defense was useless if your offense wasn't making any difference. Despite her master's spell (which left her ears ringing and which she was certain he'd never before used in her presence) buying some space, the little creatures seemed virtually unending. She could evoke a more serious power to try to sweep the entire body of them away, but Ansel's concern about drawing even more unwanted attention was well-taken.

And whether or not you had the entire picture of the battlefield, the only move which was certain to be wrong was indecision itself.

"Fuck this, then. Aurin, I'm charging the plant on the right. You two ride left."

Imogen reasoned that hitting the plant with sufficient Nova-fire ought to disrupt its magic, at least temporarily, and should certainly get its attention. If it swept her off the bridge, she could probably use her Animus to recover before being dashed against the rocks in the river below. Aurin might be fine too, if worst came to worst. Master Gerhard, though... well, that was the sort of injury he'd been famous for surviving forty years ago. Best to avoid tempting Fate, who always seemed to be in a right bastard mood these days.

"Right, hup!"

Imogen turned, executing a fairly complicated maneuver with her Reaving. Her staff and spear she left trailing behind, dancing as they warded away the little buggins still hot on the heels of herself and Ansel, describing wide, lazy arcs to either knock the critters aside or simply impede their movements. Her shield and zweihander she recalled, the shield to interpose itself between herself and the tall plant collective at a high angle, hoping to block some nasty blow. Her sword she clutched in one hand, the other firmly on the reins of her terrified horse, and she focused her will and aether into the silver fire mantling it as she went, willing it to cut through whatever strange magic animated the bridge's guardian. Those sparse seconds of preparation complete, Imogen charged the bridge warden, ready to chop at it if it struck.

► Show Spoiler

1d4 = 1, 1d4=2, 1d20=8

[Rune]

For a moment the cat creatures were brushed away along with the mist by the odd use of arcane power. Then they regathered themselves, hissing and spitting like angry versions of the cats they resembled. Most were wary now, even in their arched displeasure, between the magic displayed and the blades that seemed to appear and disappear, slicing into their numbers, but a few were driven into a rage of thoughtless attack.

The two nearest enraged ones threw themselves high into the air, landing with claws digging into horseflesh of the mounts of both Imogen and Master Gerhard. Their horses screamed and danced, unsure what was attacking them and unable to turn to see their own flanks. The tiny attackers were not still once they had gained purchase but threw themselves again with fluid speed at the heads of each rider. The first swiped at Imogen but was deflected almost as quickly by her shield, leaving only superficial scrapes on the back of her head, too shallow to even truly bleed, though the razor nature of the nearness of the claws was enough to raise goosebumps on the skin around the insignificant marks.

Master Gerhard was not as lucky, though not wholly without. He turned to see what had attached itself to his horse just as the creature launched itself toward the back of his own head so that, when the claws made contact, they were with his face instead. He swatted the thing away with his weapon but not before it left a gash of four claw marks across his brow and one cheek. The cuts were skin deep and no more, not a threat to life, but painful all the same.

As the three turned and rushed their mounts toward the plant structure with it's gently waving vines said vines began to move more actively, as though the thing sensed the approach of prey. Yet, something obscured it's ability to tell where it's prey was, exactly. The figures seemed to fade in and out of reality and whatever the towering flora used to find it's victims was not beyond the scope of the rune of Masquerade's power.

It could sense the build up of power as one of the three broke off from the others and it took the concealing magic a moment to be redirected. Though the figure disappeared again quickly the creature, conscious or not, sensed it was in danger and the bridge groaned as it began to thrash. Vines pushed up from between the stones, shot out from the structure itself, and, horrifyingly, huge roots began to curl up from the under side of the bridge itself. Though they had no specific target the erratic flailing of heavy branches in every direction could not help but clip and hit here and there. The horses were sorely battered but, being sturdy creatures, endured even as all three began a headlong gallop through the sudden flurry of pain that surrounded them. The two Sunsingers, by luck or arcane craft or physical prowess or a combination of the three avoided additional damage. When one of the larger vines whipped out, changing directions suddenly it caught Aurin solidly across the ribs. The pain took a moment to register amid the chaos, and while the bones groaned at the impact they did not seem broken, but it was a close thing.

When the first hints of unknown fire touched the plant structure it groaned and seemed to grow even more angry. As the younger Sunsinger began to lay her blade into the green and brown flesh waving around her the thing seemed to grow more cautious, flinching back from the fire. When her elder saw this he called up his own inner fire and began to ward away the tendrils that came close to himself or Aurin.

This way the part crossed to either side of the tower until they were nearing the other side of the bridge and were, blessedly, outside its range.

!	Message from: Rune
	Congratulations! You have made it past these challenges with only minor wounds, you may continue on your quest.

[Aurin]

When Ansel made no complaint against Imogen's plan, Aurin could do naught but charge like some idiot knight from a story. At least his hasty glamours seemed to confuse the plants, even as blades, hooves, and magical fire enraged and damaged it. He found he coudn't breathe as his mount hurried toward the possibility of safety at the other end of the bridge, but it took a while before the frightened gait began to pound a resounding pain through his ribs. He thought he was going to be sick, but ignored that just trying to get his breath back in order.

"Really gotta..." he wheezed, "master that... Traversion trick."

But he sat up straight, careful and ginger, and cleaned off his knife before stowing it. With any luck, the Sunsingers could steer them toward one of the Market's entrances or even their Sanctuary. It were better they had a relatively safe place to regroup before they did much more exploring.

Eying the shallow gashes across the master's face, he frowned. "Well, that's not going to improve your face, but it's not getting into your eyes so I think we can keep moving before we take too close a look at it. Perhaps we'll find a Grymalka or Kindred healer before Imogen tries to cauterize it with sunfire."

Then he smirked. Ansel seemed the sort to weather a flesh wound in order to achieve his goals, anyway. Aurin knew a thing or two about first aid, but he would rather get somewhere with walls and better light before examining a wound that didn't seem serious. His fingers traced the shapes on his bracer, idly thinking of the one who had made them. The fox-faced man had tricks up his sleeve, and was surer of himself when he only had himself to protect. Playing by soldier rules made him fidgety.

[Imogen]

Imogen Ward charged the plants on the bridge, and it was, perhaps, only fair that they charged her back.

Her horse, which had been advertised as a soldiering horse but which she suspected hadn't seen a real skirmish from closer than twenty miles, was frothing with terror and pain as the whipping branches enveloped horse and rider both. He took the brunt of it too, the snaps leaving welts and cuts down his flanks. Evolution, meanwhile, had seen fit to provide Imogen with a useful gift in these circumstances.

As the branches impacted her green-hued skin, they left swelling; not in the form of welts, but scales. Opal-hued keratin erupted along her face and neck, arms and legs, deflecting the wooden bludgeons and turning tears into bruises, and bruises into momentary stings. By the time Imogen's argent-hued sword had bit into the tower of plants and her frenzied mount begun to carry her beyond, she had cultivated a shining white armor across most of her exposed skin, and her hands had lengthened into claws. It did little to her face, though, which was screwed up in a look of determination and pain as she drove her steed out of the range of the bridge's guardian.

"Agh!" Imogen cried, more from adrenalin than agony. "I hate plants which try to eat you!"

Plainly-put, but her words seemed to have a receptive audience in the two battered men. Aurin caught his breath quickly and started off on some cocky line, but Imogen couldn't even bring herself to be angry about him, not right now. When he began to comment on Ansel's face, Imogen's attention was redirected to her master with great alacrity and concern; but thankfully, it seemed like little more than flesh wounds.

"Ah." Ansel hissed softly, "The pain is nothing, but I must put a salve around the eyes, or they may swell shut."

Master Gerhard spoke like a man who had experienced this very thing many times before, and Imogen didn't doubt the truth of that. Once she was sure that there was nothing following from the bridge, the Sunsinger woman dismounted and began searching his saddlebags for the requested poultice. It took her a moment- Imogen was no better at finding items in bags than at spotting events on the ground, it seemed.

As she worked, Ansel responded to Aurin's words:

"I'll be fine for now." he began, which betokened more pain than he'd care to admit- otherwise Ansel's pride would have led him to reject even an eventual need to call upon a proper healer, "If anything in the Marketplace still stands, we may find some few witches there who can help, or at least one of the Railrunners' stores of elixirs."

It was a strange time, for a Sunsinger to speak so openly about robbing the Railrunners while a Railrunner was present, but strange times suggested strange measures. Ansel took a moment, while still, to bring his soul and mind to stillness and alignment with his body before dematerializing the great golden spear he'd been using to beat back the plant. He hardly felt the pain as it returned to his soul, after years of practice in Reaving.

"Why don't we make for the Railrunners' gate to the northwest?" Imogen suggested, finally locating Ansel's poltice and twisting it open. She dabbed a finger in, but frowned as she realized that it was still claw-shaped. Annoyed, she shook her hand in the air a few times, the scales and elongated claw-fingers retreating until her hand seemed more-or-less ordinary. She reached over to her master's face and began carefully applying it to the cuts and wounds. He was stoic, reacting not at all though it must have stung. "There was one near the Windworks but... well, I don't know why the Windworks is gone, and I don't want to venture too close in case whatever did it is still around. And we shouldn't get any closer to the Presidium than we have to."

Her application complete, Imogen returned to her horse. Ansel nodded at her, signaling that he'd caught his breath, and she began to make for the northern streets. Things on this side of the bridge seemed... almost normal, really. There was a lot of debris, yes, and the great red swollen sky which still poured out angry light above, but the buildings were a lot less in shambles. It might have been the temporary ravages of an ordinary storm, from here.

Imogen reminded herself not to rest easy on that basis. This was no place to lower one's guard.

[Aurin]

Aurin was an indifferent medic, so when the Sunsingers declared a need for immediate triage, he didn't argue. Instead, he let his senses spread out as far as they could to ensure nothing else caught them unawares. The plants seemed stationary enough that they weren't likely to follow them to this side of the bridge. The gaseous felines hadn't followed either. This might be as much respite as they could expect for the time being.

If Aurin was offended on behalf of his coven, he didn't say anything. To his mind, the differences between the covens meant little now. They had to cooperate to survive, let alone thrive. If Railrunner elixirs would keep the Sunsingers alive, then they would be well spent, and their weapons would work tirelessly to protect Railrunners, Kindred, and all the others.

As for the path forward, he was content with Ansel's assessment. He had heard rumors about the Windworks, some even saying it had risen like an airship from the ground and floated off. Whatever had happened, he figured the low-key path was the wisest course at this point, so he just nodded his agreement and fell in with the others, figuring his Semblance trick could help them avoid danger and complications en route to the Railrunners' gate to the northwest.

If there wasn't a welcoming party in the Market, at least there ought to be clues where to go to find the survivors.

fin.