[Plot] Convergence of Tides

[Aeria Luxus]

Aeria concentrated on keeping the flight of the Sky Cutter steady, her gaze forward despite the goings on happening behind her. Now she seemed to be steadier on the controls, appearing to have figured them all out now. The airship was actually quite maneuverable and easy to operate, once all the controls were learned. Shooting a quick glance back, she saw the bowl smoking. “So…what is it? What do you see?”

There was a mixture of impatience and trepidation in her voice. In case Durio was too concentrated, her query turned to Ignis. “What’s going on? What’s the image you see?”

Already the spurii’s angular features had taken on a different cast, as if she was starting to consider what might be next. These were, quite literally, uncharted waters and it was as if she was running scenarios through her head, trying to figure out what to do in each eventuality.

Her brow was also furrowed as if the horrid possibility that what they were doing wasn’t a rescue mission, but a recovery of bodies. Worry was likely gnawing at her, although it appeared as if she were fighting against it. There was a great deal riding on the mission. Along with Caput, it was clear that Aeria was also concerned about the fate of Diamantus along with Captain Garus.​

 

[Kaizaell Songe]

Word Count: 1138/4956

Today had been a bad day for Vician Kresh. The orange scaled velen growled as he looked around the battlefield. His usual imperial officer’s uniform had seen better days, and his red fins seemed to be drooping from the burning exhaustion he felt in every fiber of his being. He’d been burned, bludgeoned, hell he’d even been stabbed once or twice on these Vis-damned docks. Only interventions from the field medics had kept him up and running. Maybe he should have taken his father's advice and left the military before the war really heated up. But he’d never taken part in a battle before, let alone a war.

The stories never described it like this though.

Grimacing he turned and saw his warguard, a thick velen man almost as big as the damned naga they were fighting. His name was Fathuus, and his posture told the lieutenant that the man was ready to unleash violence at a moment's notice.

Sighing, he turned and looked at the handful of men and women he was in charge of, all of them guardsmen like himself. He had a chance here, he could hold with the prince or he could be proactive and move towards the closer behemoth to provide backup for the brave landstriders who stood next to their people like a good sibling would. Either option, however, was likely to lead to his guardsmen’s deaths. The fervor in their eyes, however, told him that they’d follow him wherever he told them to go.

He saw a thunderous crash come from above, bathing one of the wicker worms in glowing light followed by keening from it and a warbling cry of rage. It seemed to throw a tantrum as it ripped great gouts of masonry, metal and wood from the tower to lob at some of its closer irritants before making its way towards the prince’s position.

“FOR THE PRINCE!” the officer yelled, rushing forwards, his trident held upright as he moved to intercept, quickly making his way in front of the prince’s position with his mere twenty men. A pair of them prepared some spells while the rest stood their ground, gritting their teeth and staring down their impending doom.


-----

Kaizaell grimaced as the flash of lighting hit so close to him, making him flinch and shield his eyes. Even over the roar of the thunderclap almost directly in his ears he could feel the damned monstrosity’s wailing retort. As his eyesight began to clear he felt the beast grab a large chunk of the base of the tower, flinging it angrily at something out of sight but also at the base of the tower.

Aeravis, the dark haired soldier prayed for a moment, hoping his goddess would actually listen to his prayers for once. Honestly, with how often it happened he was almost starting to doubt his faith. Please guide Laermont. I know he’s a machine but he’s a good soul.

Scoping back down the sight of his scope he hissed in frustration. Some sort of retreat order must have been put in place or the naga he’d spotted in the apothecary had turned off its magics. Either way, he didn’t spot the shaman or any signs of movement.

The tower shook, apparently in its death throes, as the lanky sniper was almost knocked off his feet. The lighthouse was beginning to lean more and more towards the center of town.

“Oh, no no no,” Kaizaell growled, seeing that the tower wasn’t going to stop now that gravity was involved in laying the monument low. “Aeravis, you thorny bitch! You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

Reaching desperately for the rope he’d scaled the last bit of the tower with, he managed to untangle it and get it wrapped around his arm as the tower began its freefall, falling forwards and straight towards the center of town. Cursing his own luck, his decision to join this damned war and even Aeravis herself he waited for the final moment, then jumped.

The landing wasn’t as dignified as he was expecting, in fact he tried to roll but the slanted ceramic shingled roofs and the remaining moisture on the roof made it difficult, even if he’d managed a perfect jump. He felt himself land on his shoulder first, wrongly, then on his left hip, wrongly again. Pain lanced up his nerves and he gritted his teeth as he finally managed to stop his roll but not his momentum taking him towards the edge of the roof he’d landed on. Looking around he saw what looked like a chimney nearby and threw his rope, knowing this was his last chance before he went over the edge. He barely managed to see the hook catch before the tug of the rope on his arm made him wince with fresh pain, but his feet stopped right at the edge though his center of mass was dangling precariously over the edge.

However, before he could even spare a moment to breath a sigh of relief he heard a pair of voices hissing below him. He looked down to see a trio of naga making their way back towards the center of town, probably to reinforce some part of the forces deeper within the city.

The young soldier growled slightly, trying to move slowly so as not to alert the beasts below him. He couldn’t bring his rifle up and shoot them, not with his dominant hand tied up trying to keep him from going over, but he did still have at least one option.

Reaching for his vial pouch on his hip he felt at them with his right hand, counting the three he’d managed to create before heading to the surface. The captain would’ve killed him if he’d known he had kept something in such close quarters and aboard a ship, nonetheless, but he’d risked it thinking it’d come in handy. Finding the first vial he brought out the Pyre Jelly and chucked it into the center of the trio.

It certainly didn’t disappoint, the flash of sudden fire lighting as the jelly-like substance made contact with the air and splashed in a wide arc as the glass of the vial shattered, covering the three naga with the chemicals. Their shrieks as they found themselves suddenly, inexplicably, on fire. The sudden flare of heat, almost drowning out the murky darkness caused by the continuous cloud cover.

Yeah, it had been worth it to make those vials he carried on him.

Kaizaell grinned, bringing his right arm up to the rope and pulling himself slowly up so he was no longer leaning over the edge into the firestorm now below. It would take him a little bit to get setup, but at least he was still above ground floor.

That was at least something.

Spoiler: Turn Notes

You said NPC's were kewl right?

Vician and his troops will be in between the wicker worm and the prince, though more towards the prince. Wherever you want to put him Will, I leave that to you.

So, the Lighthouse has fallen over, which is why Kaizaell was able to move so far in one turn.

 

[Laermont]

Word Count: 171

The flare of fire leaping up distracted the wicker worm for a moment, along with the screams of the naga being burned by Kai's fiery concoction, giving Laermont enough time to pick up his gigantic, powerful frame from the ground. As the creature had tossed debris at him, he'd rapidly thrown himself clear, rolling and hitting the ground.

His mind seemed to be working rapidly, his keen demvir senses apparently still fully effective as his eye plate scanned the surroundings. It flashed brightly as he seemed to realize that Caput was the target of the beast. In a few bounds of his powerful legs, the inspector was pacing the wicker worm as it tore toward the Prince.

Seeing the spurting wound where the tentacle had been severed, Laermont took aim while he still ran along with it. He let off three shots in quick succession, each exploding into the wound before he put his head down and drove his gigantic body forward, sprinting hard to join the group surrounding the Prince.

 

[Aelflead Kirastes]

" W͠el͘l,̡ l̕o̴oḱs͏ ͘c҉an ̷be d҉eceiv̛in̷g͘ ."

Aelflead stepped forward and set her hand on the side of the ship's railing. Her crimson locks were wrapped in a tight and intricate spiral of braids that ended in a tied bun behind her horns and dangled the braided excess behind her shoulder. This left her cartilage to hang mostly freely around her face, totally hiding the eye that matched her hair behind the magenta curtain. Her cloak hung loosely at her elbows, revealing shoulders patterned like swirling onyx and seafoam that matched the rest of her corrupted form.

The cambion spurii cleared her throat.

"If they were gonna try to kill us we'd have been swimming kilometres ago." Aelflead's voice sounded confident coming through the black half-grin half grimace she wore, but she'd been rubbing the fabric of her cloak between her fingers to ground herself since take off. Indignance still boiled behind the woman's eyes on behalf of the ophidians, but after all the travel trepidation had been given time to settle in. This wouldn't be like talking up a john or jill to get their wallet as a kid, or beating answers out of someone for info on a hit. She going to speak with a wronged people in order to ask them to stop trying to take vengeance against a nation she had no ties to, who by all accounts deserved everything coming to them.

The cambion had received a request for a hit on the crown weeks in advance to the summons from the royal family, so she'd originally only boarded the Geamhess as an easy way to get close to her targets. Finding out her targets included children had been the only reason she'd stayed her hand. Now, she was flying back to what she'd figured out were at least one of her original clients; not only without the job done, not only with a non insignificant part of her wishing that she'd taken out at least the emperor, but asking them to change their mind as well.

Bringing the statue would help and its presence calmed her somewhat, but she couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort sitting on her shoulders. As if was walking back home empty handed after a day of collecting dues for her mother when she was young.

Like a sickly brew boiling in her stomach.

Maswae, though he had no previous frame of reference for the woman's behavior, noticed that the cambion was ill at ease. The way her tail had been wagging on and off had not been like a felvar's but more like a vorax, nervous as he took it. And considering that as far as he knew, she and the blond with her were supposedly been the best people for the task. "Heroes," of the Portal or some wash, seeing the one as monstrous as she and knowing next to nothing about the other didn't exactly inspire much confidence in in the velen.

To that point, he turned to get a look at the taller of the two envoys. "What about you? Just as confident, hm?"​

 

[Amanita Agaricales]

The giant worm was charging right at Amanita. Rather than move or defend, she put her scutum onto her back and wielded the gladius with both hands. "Repulse me," Amanita commanded.

"The largest tapeworm found in a person's body was eighty-two feet long," Memerosia said.

Amanita glanced over. "I meant cast the spell!"

Memerosia activated the magic portal sending out a wave of force. Amanita readied her weapon. The force of the Repulsor pushed her towards the whipping tentacles of the worm. Her muscles tensed, and her eyes were wide open. With perfect timing, she swung her gladius in a huge cleaving stroke, targeting all of the tentacles at once.

The spell continued as Memerosia directed the next repulsor to carry Amanita along the body. Amanita dug her gladius in as deep as it could go. She held on tight with both hands, tearing across the worm. The final repulsor landed her out of direct path of the worm. She slid to a halt near the edge of the roof, scutum already back in her hand.

 

[Dante]

There was a bead of sweat on the side of the athlete's forehead caused by the concern he felt about the situation at hand. He had been separated from Aeria and there really was only one thing left to do for him – survive. And having been stuck with being reinforcements for Aelflead did not fill the athlete with hope.

“All I want is to survive this mission and make it back home safely, whether you see that as confidence or not is up to you,” the athlete replied indifferently, though his eyes were locked on Aelflead.

“So, were you like that during the invasion?” Dante asked the spurii bluntly and out of the blue. Her current form disgusted him, and the athlete wanted it all to be over as soon as possible.​

 

[Deni Perfide]

“Serpent’s saggy-”

The pale velen couldn’t finish the sentence as he threw himself away from the pile of rubble that had been hurled in his direction. A few chunks of rock flew past him as he leapt two great strides, but there was too much. An impact threw him to the ground.

The dust that covered Deni made him cough as he lifted himself out of the crushed stone and wood. His head was pounding. He reached his hand up to carress his temple. Wet. Crimson stained his fingertips. No wonder there were black flecks in his vision.

Once he was steady on his feet, he turned to face the beast that had injured him. It seemed as though he was getting a little left behind, with Laermont rushing to blast at the creature from close range. He was vaguely aware of the demvir’s actions. Unleashing three shots into the wound on one of the worm’s tentacles. Though the resulting shriek sent a shiver down Deni’s spine, it didn’t seem to deter the creature from its target.

The rogue surged forward - if Laermont moved too far away from him, the bond of the artifact would be severed - and was almost met with the lash of another deadly limb. As the wicker worm grew ever reckless, Deni realised that every tentacle was a dangerous weapon. If they were incapacitated, the fight would be much easier.

Leaning the rifle to his shoulder, the pelagian closed one eye and aimed at one of the tentacles still clasped around what remained of the lighthouse. He took a moment to breathe, to really look at his target. If it was on a person, he would aim for the joint in their shoulder or elbow if he wanted to immobilise the arm. Without the bones to break, trying to find a weak spot was difficult.

The velen squinted. Where the arm met the ‘head’ of the aquatic giant, there was a small node. It was difficult to tell at such a distance, but it seemed brighter when the bioluminescence kicked in. Perhaps it was nothing, but it was worth a try.

Fortunately, Deni was aiming at a tentacle that was mostly still as it was wrapped around the lighthouse. With a clunk the bolt was fired. Through the air it hurled until it struck the node. That loud, dissonant whistle pierced the ears of all those nearby. The monster from the deep stumbled off balance as the tentacle it was leaning on dropped limply to its side. It regained its balance right in front of the Prince and his retinue. Deni groaned. He had immobilised the arm, but inadvertently ended up pushing the creature closer to the pelagian forces. It wasted no time in slamming its remaining tentacles against the crew of the Orca.

“The tentacles!” Deni shouted to any that could hear. At the very least, Laermont would receive the message through the mark of Lachtara. “Aim for the limbs!”

[495]

Spoiler: Note

Expended 1,200 vigor to use Incapacitation and disable one of the wicker worm’s limbs.

 

[Aelflead Kirastes]

Maswae chuffed and turned back to the airship controls. "Wrthuamweurdeuwt liaeniail nared," he said derisively.

Aelflead's fist tightened its grip on her cloak, and she turned her head to fix Dante with the bright green orb that shone free of her bangs. She remembered him, vaguely, from the black portal. The stranger that had given her the boost when she first struck the dragon daemon.

Pity he's an arse. She thought. Between the guards, Caput, random attendants, and now the kinner, a part of the spurii was glad she mad the call to hide her form up until the banquet. Though every other part of her was furiously debating whether open animosity and fear from being clearly corrupted was better or worse than the dismissive attitudes and infantilazation she'd gotten for being visibly spurii when she let her hair down.

"Make a wild guess, and then ponder hard about whether asking me another question like that is worth the very real prospect of ḅe̴͓̝̜̝i͏̞͍̻n̤͎̩̱̝̞g̛͉͓̰ ̗̯̘̟͍͎͕͝b͇̙͍ͅo̤͟i̯͈̙͈̬̰̩͠le͞d̠͙̥̯͚͖͢ ̵̙̬a̗̜̯͜l͞iv̢̱̗̼͉e͖͢ ͕͓͙̩̤̗in̞̙̼̬͍ ̺̟͔̣̤͖t̼̬̫̝̠͈h͖̯̼͉̪̖̬͞e̹̜̭ͅ ̘̻̻̠̗͈m̝͜i̳͙͞d̨̦͖̟̮̜͙͔d̻̯̳̥͙l̵̜̪e̻̺ ̨͉͎̫̲o̱f̢̳̙̹͙̪͓͔ ̩̟͕n̪̣͕̫o̸͍̟ẉ͍h͍ͅe͍̤̥̼̙͞r̼̟̰͚̞e͚͉̙̤̺̺ ."

The jury was still out, for now.

Meanwhile, the sandy black beach below was steadily approaching as Maswae began taking the airship down.​

 

[Laermont]

Word Count: 249

As the instruction about the tentacles reached his mind, it seemed that Laermont executed a pivot mid-run. His entire gigantic frame spun with an agility that seemed bizarre for one so large. Now he was facing the eldritch horror, for a moment he stood as if make a decision and then he holstered his pistol and drew his cutlass. Every part of his huge, metallic frame seemed to tense and then he was charging. There was terrifying weight and power behind his charge, his cutlass ready to strike as he bore down on the wicker worm. When he neared it, he slashed down hard with his cutlass and barrelled into the tentacles before him, slicing and hacking with the momentum and speed generated by his charge behind the blows. He was carried right through the fleshy masses with the speed he’d generated.

Now the earth around his heavy metallic feet churned up as he skidded to a halt behind the wicker worm, leaving a trail of ichor and hacked tentacles behind him. He shook off his blade and sheathed it again. Now he paused, seeming to gather himself and drew his pistol once more. He began to reload while watching to see how much damage his headlong charge through the tentacles had done. It had been part of his training to implacably attack when faced with a threat and his training had driven his violent rush. His pistol reloaded, the massive demvir stood and waited, gun at the ready.

 

[Ignis of Animi]

Ignis turned her seat to get a better look at the scrying liquid while remaining near the controls in case they faced further turbulence. The vivid scene that unfolded before her quickly captured the enlil's attention. She held up a single finger to silence Aeria's shouts for information so that she could hear what was going on over the Sky Cutter's engine and the winds buffeting their aircraft.

"I see three people that aren't naga... they're all alive for now. Two velen and a laicar. Someone must have used a spell on the laicar because he isn't drowning... I think one of those men must be Captain Garus. I don't understand what they're saying, but I don't think we have much time before they naga run out of patience with them," Ignis reported.

Then, Ignis turned her gaze to Durio and inquired, "What are they saying? It sounds like a heated discussion."

Spoiler: text color

#c22f5d

---

Meanwhile Garus continued to plead his case with Etiirshaii and Tsildasiir.

"Your quarrel is with the Pelagian kingdom, not with bystanders unfortunate enough to get swept up in this feud. Murdering bystanders is not blood for blood. How can you hope to ensure your safety by beginning new grudges?" he plead.

Tsildasiir's face was difficult to read, but the slight relaxation of his shoulders hinted at him contemplating Garus' words.

He spoke in another soft hiss, "You still haven't proven that this isn't another one of your lies and schemes, velen. Why should I believe that the rest of your kind won't return here and repeat what they've already done to other holds?"
​

 

[swaswj]

Durio nodded without pulling her eyes away. "It is Captain Garus, though he looks like he's had a hard time of it. I wouldn't be able to locate or scry at all if he weren't there." To Ignis, she added, "They are… negotiating, it sounds like. The velen woman's name is Diamantus, it seems, but no one has given a name for the laicar.

In the shimmery image, the orange-scaled velen seemed to puff out his chest. "Your drars has already taken a measure of my guilt and my sincerity, as well as the woman beside me. Shall we hear what she has to say?"

Etiirshai hissed, seemingly in disgust, and her cold, dark eyes turned to Iszikke at the side of the room. "It is so, my king. The female's blood debt is shallow. Both of them spoke with sincerity, and have committed their crimes in ignorance." There was another vicious hiss as she slowly floated closer, glaring at Garus. "Ignorance is a poor excuse for war."

"War that I was always told your people brought to us," Garus replied, starting out indignant but steeped with regret before the sentence even finished.

"Mm. We need to hurry. Captain Garus has nothing to offer in his parlay. He is throwing himself upon the mercy of the naga, and they have precious little of that." Durio chewed her lip thoughtfully, then tightened her hands on the scrying font. "Captain Garus, if you can hear me, this is Durio Sea. I served as navigator on your ship years ago. You must not offer up your life just yet! I have located you via alchemy, and we are heading to you now, but if you die, we will not be able to reach the others!"

In the throne room, Etiirshai looked around, a look of wariness as she slipped her body in between Garus and the king. Then, her eyes seemed to meet Durio's, looking right at her through the image. "What is this?! Treacherous snakes!" she shouted. "Already he's leading more of them to us! Execute them all immediately!"

"No!" Durio shouted. "Captain, we have the statue!"

Garus sputtered for a moment. "You have… how? Why?!" The towering ophidian shaman had drawn a wave-bladed kris, though, and moved to pierce his throat, wrist snapping forward like the strike of an eel. Garus, Diamantus, and Lea had no time to react, even if they weren't still bound.

It was Iszikke who reacted, thrusting his spear in front of Etiirshai's blade. "Explain!" he demanded.

King Tsildasiir rose from his throne, staring Iszikke down with regal furor. The veteran hunter trembled but held his ground. Instead of berating him or the shaman, Tsildasiir floated forward, pushing Etiirshai back and facing Garus directly. "Explain," he repeated, redirecting the question to the velen man. "Who has what? What have you done?"

"Spies!" Etiirshai hissed.

Garus shook his head, though he was still wrapping his head around the situation. He looked at Diamantus, but the look in her eyes told him she hadn't heard the scryer's words. Turning back to the ophidian king, he explained, "An envoy. From my emperor. Coming here." The naga around the room began hissing and calling for execution while Etiirshai glared, venomous and smug. "She says… they have the statue."

With that, the room fell silent.​

---

The crescent ridge of the once-volcano encircled beaches of black sand. Black sand, beneath black clouds: a fitting place to deliver a statue of black onyx.

Maswae brought the Volitans down, engine humming steadily as the old grayscale carefully coasted in before finally setting the skids of the ship down in the sand, with the rear of the ship, and its cargo, facing toward Drars Ulupi and her guards. At the sight of the statue, many of the two dozen naga openly cheered, some shouting out prayers, breaking the image of immovable warriors.

Ulupi seemed as if she would berate them, but instead a faint smile curled on her lips, there and gone in a flash as she resumed her stern expression. Slithering forward through the shallow waters, she called out in Himai, "Where is the emperor's son? Why does he send striders in his place?"
​

[701/9296]

Spoiler: Notes

More turns later.

Aeria/Ignis, assume that Durio will guide them toward Garus' location. The three captives may want to try negotiating/peacekeeping in the meantime.

Aelflead/Dante, Ulupi is probably the least bloodthirsty of the three Drars, but the fact that no one of royal blood or noteworthy military ranking came for the meeting will be seen as an open insult. The statue itself holds a lot of value, obviously, so taking the right tact, you can smooth things over. She does speak broken common, so on the plus side, Dante can talk to her, but on the downside, she'll know if they try to speak common to hide things from her.

 

[Aelflead Kirastes]

"Sua pliae is sua ha, twllu seuonlla trweuop freifo tyheiadrwg places silioe wrthuamweurdeuwt ha."

Aelflead said, curtsying. A look of relief found its way to her face as she did, hidden under bangs with her motion, though this did little to hide her tail curling into a relaxed "U" shape behind her. She'd noticed the Drars smile, and that may not have been much, but it meant the statue's return was more important than the Empepor's head. Of course it could also just mean that the Drars that'd called on her in the first place wasn't Ulupi, or Ulupi didn't recognize her.

Either scenario was good news as far as the spurii was concerned.

As she rose from her curtsy, Aelflead continued, speaking quickly. "Neiablwtyh'au Tiae Mwoiwb dwbluwi giaewiai hi ffrwa delivers ha statue drwsifut pwntyuallu sib dwbluwi Flumen Petram.

She turned to gesture towards Dante. "Hu are taigeareih nuoff hi wruwurthu sioerdi fiauf tywtyheuo." Then turned back to the Drars and took a step to the side so she was no longer standing between the woman and her people's treasure.

"Tywrsoillt tylio dioe haeoi ti tyuarffiad euo Pelagia, suawrth. Na pwum strofoithweia huwio hu?" ​

Spoiler: Language!

1: Because, fool as he is, he cannot be in two places at once.
2: Come Tiae Grace in place his while delivers he [statue]* to kin yours in Flumen Petram./ Caput is delivering to Flumen Petram right now, so his sister Tiae Grace has come instead.
3: We are advance party hers for open peace talk./ We're here as her advance party to open peace talks ahead of her.
4: Apology accept ours on behalf of Pelagia. What else owe do we?/What else can we do to make this right?

*: I don't remember what the names of each statue are, but I know Aelf would if she'd been told them so I'll replace the name once I find the names for them again, or realize Aelf wouldn't have known their names in the first place.

 

[Aeria Luxus]

The scryer’s voice was steady and assured, issuing directions that Aeria was able to match with coordinates accurately. If there was a sense of urgency, it didn’t show In her easy grip on the controls and her focused gaze as she kept the throttle of the Sky Cutter open as much as possible, only slowing to make banking turns and decrease their altitude or adjust their course. However, one glance into her violet eyes would have revealed worry, a touch of fear and something fiery and determined. They were lower now, skimming over the water’s surface. According to the instruments, they were nearing the place that Durio Sea was indicating. Aeria began to circle and shouted back to the scryer. “We appear to be in the vicinity you indicated, do you have more specific information for me?”

The lean, slim spurii directed her voice to Ignis now. “Be ready to trim the wings for a water landing. I’ll give you more specific instructions for what to do as we prepare to land. Who knows what conditions we’ll face once we’re down, be ready for anything.”

Now Aeria was all business. If she was harbouring any doubts or fears, they appeared to be subsumed by her drive to ensure that their approach was as safe as possible. This mission was quite dangerous enough without crashing the Sky Cutter on the way down.​

_____________________________
​

If Diamantus felt any surprise, it was well-masked. She appeared to absorb the situation's import and seemed to be composing herself to speak before actually doing so. "He's telling the truth. If the Emperor says the statue will be returned, it'll be returned. It isn't a trap. Think about it. Would they want to announce their presence with a message to Garus that was so transparent?"

The burly velen fighter pressed on. "I know we have not shown much good faith, but Garus is no liar. If he says there is no attack, there's no attack. I have not seen any treachery in him thus far."

Now it was a matter of trying a calm approach or so it seemed from the non-threatening posture adopted by Diamantus.​

 

[Inks]

Liaelty’s eyes flit from one speaker to the next, the conversation entirely lost to him - he still didn’t speak Himai. The laicar was left grasping weakly at the body language and expressions of those around him and...well. It was hard for him to focus.

His stay with the naga had been spent primarily in the care of the Dry Rock. Alone. What few forays he’d had into the city proper had been marked by the sharp panic of water in his lungs - usually followed by other, equally-unpleasant tortures. They’d been more frequent at first, but as time went on, they’d seemed to abandon the idea of executing him or torturing any comprehensible information out of him. And that meant no more forays.

After long enough, he’d wondered if he didn’t miss the drowning, if only for the change of pace.

Now, he was in the middle of an ornate undersea throne room, alive and conscious and capable of taking in his surroundings. Despite the magic the velen captain had cast upon him, though, it still felt like he couldn’t breath. There was...too much. It was all too much. He couldn’t process it. Even on the swim over, he’d found himself staring at various pieces of architecture, at the sprawling underwater cityscape, until he was pushed, pulled, prodded, or shoved along.

He had panicked a few times during his stay with the ophidians. Broken down, screaming, crying - begging for mercy or struggling uselessly against the naga in some weak attempt at freedom. And it had always started like this. A jittery pulse, hammering hard at his throat. His muscles, tense and shivering in anticipation. A quiet sense of dread.

The feeling had spiked, briefly, when it looked like Garus was going to be executed right there - Lea’s hands had curled tight into fists, twitching nervously in their bonds. The helplessness, the uselessness, it ate at him. Combined with the sensory overload...

He wanted to -- to --

But he couldn’t do anything. He wasn’t even sure if his two fellow prisoners would be able to understand him if he tried to speak underwater.

And now the tension in the air - water? - had shifted. Something had happened. Something about what Garus and Diamantus had said seemed to stay the naga’s hands. At least for a moment. Lea took a shaky breath. Another. And waited. It was all he could do, really.

[403 / 1207]
​

 

[Red]

Red frowned. “That’s great and all,” she said, eyes tracking Keydis’s movement across the town, “but I got guns, not magic. And they’re not even magic guns.” She winced as one of the wicker worm’s charges smashed into a rooftop near the Keydis, nearly crushing the light-haired laicar woman nearby. Vis, Key was gonna get her ass killed, at this rate.

Red bit her lip, then made up her mind. Her gaze flit over to Gwen. “Hey, I know we just got here, but any chance I could get a portal to,uh, over there?” Red gestured briskly at the rooftop occupied by Keydis, her motives embarrassingly transparent.

Gwen said something in response (actually, she said quite a lot in response), but Red only really caught the ‘I mean, sure, I guess!’ which was what she was looking for.

“Er, thanks, good luck, don’t fuck around and get yourselves killed!” Red called back over her shoulder, and the moment the portal had formed, she was through it, guns still in-hand. She hit the other rooftop in a run, closing the distance between herself and Keydis.

Just in time, too. As she ran, her eyes shifted from Key to the wicker worm, which was rearing back. The monster gave an awkward, drunken sway as it shifted its weight on its remaining tentacles. The massive tentacles at its base lashed wildly as it began to move, dragging itself across the ground, churning up mud, dirt, and debris as it made a beeline for the line of buildings along the east coast.

“Fuck!” spat Red. She slammed her guns into their holsters and leaned into a sprint. “Fuck!” she snarled, louder, as Keydis - preoccupied with burying her sword to the hilt in one of the worm’s thick limbs - fell beneath the shadow of one of its moving tentacles, lifted high and more than large enough to crush the swordswoman to a fine paste.

“Key--!” she managed to gasp out, and Keydis turned just before Red slammed into her, tackling her to the ground. The wicker worm’s tentacle struck the spot they’d just vacated, hard enough for Red to feel her bones rattling from the impact. The corner of the rooftop caved beneath the worm’s weight. There was a deafening crash of collapsing rubble, and cracks spread like a spiderweb across the remaining roof, threatening to give in beneath the three women now occupying it.

Red rolled onto her side, clear of Keydis, and gasped out a shaking breath. “Bell’s balls,” she wheezed. She pushed herself to her hands and knees and jabbed a finger in Key’s face.

“You are,” she huffed, “fuckin’ welcome. We need to move.”

[456 / 1663]

 

[Micali Alsara]

As Gwen explained, Micali nodded her head slowly, but felt the need to point out a flaw in the concept. “Right, but there’s a ton of magic flying around right now - so what specific magic is it that attracts them? Could be some naga thing. You might be onto something though.” The sniper turned back to face the wicker worm just in time for Red to request her portal, sending Gwen into another rant. Micali deafened herself to it, eyes intent on the battlefield as bodies flew around the worms, doing everything they could think of to try and down the beasts.

As the lightning struck the lighthouse, as the army charged, as the worms began to flee, Micali could only watch dumbfounded. This was far removed from anything she’d ever done or seen. She had expected bloodshed, trauma, pain, but not heroics. Not bravery. She hadn’t anticipated the fervid heat of battle to drive so many to fight harder. Perhaps it was a westerner thing, or perhaps it was a Micali thing. She was an assassin, not a soldier, and certainly not a hunter of monsters.

In this stupor, she watched Red rescue Keydis, the two landing on a roof as the thrashing wicker worm moved - to the roof that Micali and Gwen stood atop of. They could take the portal, but the roof the two laicar women were on already seemed to barely hold itself up.

There wasn’t time. Micali stood, threw the strap of her rifle over her, then interrupted Gwen, holding the rifle in front of the spurii girl so they were both wrapped around by the strap, Micali’s arms sure in their grip around the younger woman. Dextrous, she snapped her clip out, and in a fluid motion, dove to her bag and clicked in her gravity bullets.

“Hold on.”

The wicker worm reached the roof just as Micali aimed down and pulled the trigger, the bullet hitting one of the tentacles the beast was using to climb, and rocketing the two snipers backward. She could’ve sworn she felt the monster’s facial tentacles graze along her calf as they gained distance, the Son of Cete vacating the battleground. Her back collided with the ground, and in the split seconds of sliding further away from the shrieking whistles of a fleeing beast, Micali could only hope her angle was good, that they weren’t about to fly off the roof and to the ground. Regardless, she held Gwen on top of her as they slid back - the brunette was more than acceptant that she would bear the brunt of their fall should it come.

[437/2469]

 

[Kaizaell Songe]

WC: 1268/6224

The wicker worm, loosing another whistling cry as it felt its tentacle go numb almost fell over, but managed to right itself at the last moment. The beastly cry was echoed to the east, where its sibling was being assaulted from all sides and was beginning to retreat to the sea nearby. It looked down, seeing bare signatures of life force before it in a cluster, then another of its tentacles was severed by something that radiated strangely. It could barely register this before the biting pain made it release another cry, then it turned towards the wind, smelling salt in the air.

Home.

The monstrous beast’s primitive mind sensed the ocean nearby and its instincts kicked into overdrive. This feeding ground had too much bite to it. It had too many creatures that hurt it back. It wanted to go home, to return to the base of the sea it had come from. To recover and lick its wounds and continue to feed and live.

Turning its massive form towards the nearby sea it ignored the rodents at its feet, slapping its remaining tentacles in a way that would propel it rapidly across the stone surface it lay upon. Grinding its massive body over the remains of the lighthouse it broke for the nearby ocean.

-----

The velen at the base of the tower grimaced, his trident had bitten into the creature but he was doing little damage compared to the demvir with which he was facing the creature. A crack of a nearby rifle caused him to turn, only to see one of the tentacles go limp, though little damage was done to it.

Must have hit a nerve with that shot. The officer thought to himself as he turned to inspect his men.

The orange scaled velen only saw a small handful of remaining soldiers under his command. The thing had aimed for the mages, taking them both out with a single tentacle, and had begun ravaging the other troops he’d brought to stop its movements. There were only five of the twenty left, including himself and Fathuus. He brought his trident up and slammed it into the limp tentacle, causing a whistling cry to come up from the beast, the tentacle lashed around wildly, slamming him into the remaining fourth of the lighthouse, he spat blood as he felt bones crack under the impact.

Then the thing turned, and began retreating, ignoring those the drylanders and the velen soldiers alike in its furor to make it into the ocean. The officer sighed in relief as another hapless medic rushed up to him to patch him up.

They’d made a Son of Cete begin its retreat, however they were barely even within the borders of the inner city, and he felt like their battle had barely begun.

-----

Kaizaell steadied his rifle on the top of the chimney, aiming down one of the side streets he could get a view on. He saw a pair of naga laying in wait about a third of the way up the street. They’d seen the flash of fire and were trying to make out the cause. They were on the lookout for a mage that could loose such flames.

But they weren’t looking for a sniper.

The dark haired laicar aimed carefully then fired, taking the first one in the chest. The rifle’s shot echoed through the streets, causing the second one to flinch and step back towards cover. Before it could, however, he had already loaded another shot into the rifle and was aiming then fired. The shot hit the naga in the shoulder, blowing off its limb and causing it to fall and writhe on the ground for a moment before going fully into cover.

If the thing doesn’t get that taken care of soon it’ll bleed out. The young Sniper thought to himself, adjusting his sight to spy more down the alleyway. He was in between two major thoroughfares and thus had his choice of shooting galleries. I probably don’t have to worry about that thing coming back anytime soon.

An instinct screamed at him and he ducked back down behind the chimney, only to hear a thunk echo near where his head had been. Peeking up he saw what looked like a spear embedded about five inches into the stone of the chimney.

“Araevis bury me,” the young man gasped in disbelief. He barely registered another spear flying at him only to bury itself closer to his head. Hissing laughter echoed from nearby and he spotted a group of four in the courtyard on the northern side of the house he was using as his current refuge. “Shit, they know where I am. Where’re the others?”

Sitting back down with his back to the chimney he looked back to where the lighthouse had stood, though a small shaving of it still stood by virtue of the steel bracings meant to run lightning safely down the tower only a quarter of it still stood tall and proud. He saw the two horrors moving around still, one of them seemed to be moving towards the Orca. No push had been made, however and the troops were still huddled near the docks.

He’d pushed too far.

He was alone here.

“You’ve got to be kidding...” the young soldier growled, wincing as another spear struck the rooftop nearby and some hissing laughter echoed from below. He had no backup. No reinforcements. No help. No hope. He was alone behind enemy lines. The exact wrong place for a Sniper to be.

But not necessarily the wrong place for a Ranger to be.

Grimacing he peeked around the corner, instead of over the top where they were expecting him. There were three he could see from where he was at, the rooftop seemed to be breaking line of sight on one, or at least that’s what he thought at first.

A clawed hand grasped onto the tile and began dragging a massive scaled form over the edge and up onto the roof.

Kaizaell, acting quickly, brought his rifle up and fired again, center of mass on the monster. The thing winced, its eyes wide and making full eye contact with him as its foul heart was punctured. It coughed, wheezed for a moment as it held itself on the roof, then fell backwards.

The silence after the echo of the shot dragged for a pair of heartbeats, before the naga started howling angrily. Another pair of spears cracked into the rooftop near him, one nearly hitting his leg and another hitting near the corner of the chimney he’d used to peek out. He brought his rifle up and fired, taking another of the naga in the neck and decapitating it. The other two howled in frustration and rushed the building, meaning to make their way up to the roof to fight the coward who would fight and hide from them.

Quickly the young sniper reloaded, feeding bullets into his rifle before the creatures had made it fully up to the roof. The first one to peek over found itself staring down the barrel of the rifle.

“How’s it going?” Kaizaell asked with a cocky smile before pulling the trigger, pulping the things head before it could react.

He waited a heartbeat, then two, but the other naga failed to materialize. The young sniper warily took back his refuge next to the chimney, trying to keep his eye on his surroundings while picking off any other naga that got too close.

He just hoped everyone else was being careful with those sea monsters.

Spoiler: Normally a Will thing

Alright, so I moved the Wicker Worm more towards the nearest sea, which is close to the Orca since it was closer to Prince Caput than before. If that needs to be changed than that's fine, just let me know.

I also figured I'd do a Wicker Worm turn since you were having some trouble with it Will.

Map thingy?

Flumen Petram Map

ORCA Amanita Laermont Gwen Normal Move Extended Move Kaizaell Micali ACUTUS Prince Caput Red Keydis Deni Capt Driweus

docs.google.com

 

[Gwendolyn of nowhere]

---
"That's a good question. They do move around big waves and storms and stuff, I bet their magic is probably structured in a way that's fundamentally different from ours. I mean, I know there's some Bellator spells that summon big bolts of lightning, but they're nothing compared to the thunderstorms naga whip out. Though I guess they're not the same at all either, they summon lightning from the sky whereas we're mostly ripping lightning out of Infernalis. Does that mean our lightning is better than infernal lightning? Or are we just really bad at summoning lightning? And there's our wind spell and Burst stream too. Hmm, maybe we should ask the naga how they do their magic, because they seem to have a better handle on it than us. Or at least, their magic is stronger. But maybe it's harder to control, they do have to make conduits to aim their storms and stuff. But still, they can MAKE conduits, that's really bad but it's kind of impressive- Oh? Hold on for whAGH-!?!"

Wrapped in Micali's arms and gun strap, Gwen watched the wicker worm rapidly disappear from the city scape and into the ocean away from them, along with watching the building they had been standing on rapidly give way to rubble as the worm's flight tore through their former pseudo sniper's nest.

Then buildings were hurtling past them faster than the teen could keep up with or rather, they hurtling past buildings. Though, Gwen's mind had taken enough time to catch up with current events and she began flicking her arm like a whip rapidly. As she did, brilliant green fibers sprouted from the walls and wrapped around the pair of them. Each snapped under the strain of trying to stop the women's rapid flight, but succeeded in slowing their fall at least enough. It was not... Careful in the slightest sense, but it would mostly be enough.

They still hit the ground roughly and skidded to an awkward halt on the hard cobblestone street, but it was better than being reduced to chunky paste soaked in glitter.

Gwen sat up first and checked herself for major breaks or injuries, then finishing her search on her ankle, released sigh of relief. The scar from the break was still there, but it was fine. Then she turned to Micali with a concerned look and began, "O wonderful light, I... ask? Please mend my friend's wounds please?" While the glittering light from her earlier enchantment faded from her one eye and were replaced with a soft glow beginning at her palms.

Around them, drylanders and velen were bustling forward to the front with little concern for the pair who'd functionally fallen from the sky, or gathering around the a space some distance away from the women in the face of naga forces. The ground shook with the force of the Sons of Cete fleeing the battle, and sound was difficult to make out between all the shouting and clanging of metal and visae against armor and flesh, but there was something different now that hadn't been before.

Gwen tried to shut most of it out as she moved to focus on Micali, but there wasn't much she could do to ignore the strange feeling settling on her skin. Like a crossroads was quickly approaching. Incapable of doing her thinking with her inside voice, she said: "The air feels different." Then began her spell again.

Spoiler: Magic cast:

-750 Cast base halt x3 to slow Micali and Gwen's fall enough they didn't die
- 100 Mend On Micali for the general flesh wounds from earlier.
also
-1 more dahlitium pulveris for Red's portal to rescue 'wishes she was a bird" bae

 

[Ignis of Animi]

Ignis nodded once at Durio's confirmation. Her eyes flickered back to the scrying bowl and a frown tugged at her soft features. Despite not understanding everything that was said, she could tell that something had agitated the naga. The scryer's shout and the sudden silence after a final exchange was enough for Ignis to understand that the naga knew they were coming now.

The avian could feel her pulse in her throat, tapping a quick but steady beat. Nevertheless, she turned around in her seat and focused on the controls before her. There was no use in being so afraid of what might happen once they reached their destination that she sabotaged their landing.

"I'm ready and at your command, Captain," Ignis assured Aeria.

The moment of truth was approaching and there was no one she would rather face that with than the spurii beside her.

---

The stunned silence in the throne room was short-lived yet it seemed to drag on for several minutes. Etiirshai's expression twisted into a look of suspicion and scrutiny, the smug look from before falling away as she was pushed back.

Garus, for his part, was panting, taking in shallow breaths through his gills. His eyes lingered on the crossed blades hovering inches from what could have been the end of his life. Slowly, the captain lifted his gaze to lock eyes with the ophidian king.

"Like I said," he repeated himself, barely keeping the tremor from his voice, "We aren't hiding ill intentions or bringing more violence to your door. You asked for proof. You need only wait a short while to see the measure of my words for yourself."

Etiirshai opened her mouth to protest but Tsildasiir spoke first. "Then we will wait. Do not test my patience, velen." With that, the large, hulking ophidian turned and drifted back towards his throne.​

 

[Deni Perfide]

Deni felt the onslaught that Laermont had been giving the giant mass of tentacles. One bullet, then another, standing his ground against the titanic foe. The demvir was already drenched in ophidian blood from before Deni had even arrived and still he fought unhindered. He sure was resilient. And relentless.

Madman! Deni thought. In his head he groaned, but on the battlefield he was grinning. He lowered the auritium rifle and slung it around his back so he could draw his pistol. The golden shimmer of auritium blended with the dark metal into the shape of a serpent’s open maw that decorated the weapon’s barrel. The worms were retreating and it was time to make sure they kept moving.

Suddenly, the desperate creature made a turn. Towards him. Between circling the monster and maintaining the range necessary for his connection to Laermont, he had ended up in the path of the wicker worm. Even with blood gushing out of one group of tentacles and another paralyzed, it was still a formidable foe.

Deni ground his teeth together. Without a moment’s hesitation, he sprinted in the direction of the Prince’s group. He panted and gasped as he made ground, but the shadow behind him darkened swiftly. Perhaps he should have been able to outpace his foe, but the wicker worm was wounded and exhausted. It wanted to leave. Quickly.

Shit, shit, shit!

How far was he from the others? Fifty feet? A hundred? He couldn’t feel Laermont’s emotions or sense his physical condition. That probably meant the same was true for the demvir. He was alone.

Oh, fuck it.

Deni spun and shot maniacally into the mass of watery flesh. One bullet from his gun. He screamed. Another. A warm, sticky fluid splashed upon his face, blinding him. Another loud bang rang out as half of his chamber was emptied.

A huge force ceased his fusillade. Though he couldn’t see, Deni could feel himself hurtling through the air. A great rush of wind. His stomach churned. A moment of exhilaration. Fear.

A loud crack severed his consciousness.

[2,231]

Spoiler

Deni shot three bullets into the southernmost wicker worm before it essentially whacked him so hard that he was thrown through the air and into the side of the lighthouse. That wicker worm will continue to head south towards the sea.