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[Plot] TBL - As Above, So Below

Within a few moments of when she managed to enter into the ship’s interior, the whole damned thing lurched violently, much worse than before, and she thanked herself for not standing on the deck in that moment. She steadied herself on a wall before she turned to make sure Gwendolyn had entered as well. Sure enough, the spurii was present and accounted for, and Micali turned back down the hall they’d entered. Ahead, a guard approached, clearly unphased by the thrashing of the only difference between a laicar and a watery grave.

Within only a few seconds she was being ushered toward a room more toward the center of the ship, Gwendolyn as well, taken ahead of her. The room itself bustled with people, and as soon as the guard moved away from behind the woman, she scanned the room for any familiar faces. Her eyes locked with a few different people - a couple of the more brutish looking mercenaries, a guard or two, then a velen woman and demvir who seemed to be looking over every single person who entered.

Then she saw - or rather heard, over the general uncomfortable clamor of the room and the dull siren - Gwendolyn’s fervent speech to the unsuspecting woman who had signed most of the mercenaries on once they’d stepped foot onto the ship. Someone Micali intended to avoid, as any record of her here put the mission at stake. No, instead she turned back to the demvir and velen, and decided to approach them, see if they had any clue as to what was going on. Squeezing through the crowded room wasn’t overly difficult, though it was entirely uncomfortable. Not quite as uncomfortable, however, as when the entire ship shook and swirled, causing Micali to fall into a tumbling mess with the rest of the people who had nothing to hold on to.

After a few undignified moments of scrambling, she rose and dusted herself off, sure to check her pockets to make sure her belongings were still in place - and sure enough, nobody had seen it as an easy opportunity to relieve her of her items. She proceeded toward Diamantus and Laermont, and was close enough to speak over the loudening din of a room just knocked about - and the near-deafening blare of a siren that was incessant in its existence at a changed tone from before.

“Hey,” trepidatious, yet curious enough to need an answer, she spoke. “Do you two know what’s going on? Are we...sinking?”

[1109]
 
Seeing that Amanita was about to be mobbed (if one can be mobbed by a single person) by Gwendolyn and knowing what the noblewoman's reaction might be, Laermont decided that it was time to step in and intervene. His gigantic bulk moved up next to Gwendolyn and he laid a massive, calming hand on her shoulder and rumbled in a steady tone. "It is most fascinating that this storm can be generated by magic, if indeed it is. On the other hand, we do not want such a miscreant on board."

He raised a finger as he made his next point. "They are said to have different gods and as you suggest, perhaps 'god' is the wrong term. They may indeed reside on other planes of existence in which power is drawn differently. It is, as you say, a 'cool' concept."

As the ship moved and bucked, the gigantic demvir stood close behind Gwen, ready to lift her or support her. His bulk was strong and centered, easily riding the bucking deck. He pointed to Garus and said, "Now perhaps we ought to see what the captain has to say, eh, young one?"

While he talked, his eyeplates swept the crowd and his active mind spun, seeking answers to the riddle with which they were faced.

[1321]
 
Amanita had her arms folded. Her body swayed with the shaking of the vessel. The frown on her face increased. "I don't find any part of this to be interesting," she said to Gwendolyn. "This entire situation is worrying. A lot of people here can't survive being underwater. If this storm is magical, I doubt they would stop trying to get at us after we submerged."

It wasn't the time for getting any more sign-ups, but Amanita noted she hadn't seen the talkative young woman. She would definitely had remembered that chattiness. Her eyes caught a few pages of Gwendolyn's book. "Excuse me for prying, but what are you writing down?"

[1153]
 
Laermont was busy trying to stop Gwendolyn from being slapped by Diamantus or Amanita, so it was the burly velen who ended up replying to the shaken up mercenary as she stood, powerful legs planted, easily riding out the swells and heaves of the ship in the rough seas. She let her analytical gaze run over Micali before she spoke. “No, we ain’t sinking. You’d know it if we were sinking. I think we’re in the middle o’ a storm that ain’t entirely naturally made, leastways that’s what I’m thinking.”

Sweeping one muscled arm around the room in which they stood, she grinned her jagged velen grin at Micali. “That’s why the cap’s got us all in here. He’s suspicious it’s someone on board who’s conjurin’ this storm and he aims to find out who. I figger it might get a bit rough in here, so hold on ta yerself.”

Sticking out one large mitt of a webbed hand, the Pelagian introduced herself. “Name’s Diamantus. What’s yer handle?”

[1489]


 
The incessant pulse of the alarm continued steadily as the ship rocked and twisted. Even this far underwater, the effects of the storm were apparent. The velen commander and crew held to their footing while their visitors struggled to stay standing.

All of the volunteers had been ushered into the mess hall and stood filling the massive room. The exits were all sealed, and with each locking bar that slid in place, the weight of dread filling the room grew heavier. One side of the mess hall held Garus, Libra, and a dozen other crew members, all armed. The burly captain stepped forward, brandishing his unique three-barreled side-arm.

"Outside this ship, there's a storm the likes of which none of you have seen." As though to punctuate the point, the ship rocked violently enough to shake even the experienced crew members. Garus, though, barely stumbled. "I've seen it before. Bashed my ship to pieces, torrential forces ripping it to scrap. Now it's a rust-heap. A rust-heap holding the bodies of some dear friends.

"Now!" Garus was suddenly shouting, tone shifting to command. "Have any of you seen a ten meter long, snake-tailed bastard covered in scaly armor? Hiding under your beds, maybe? No? Then that means the ophidian squid-fucker conjuring this storm isn't here. Hell, it probably means the vis-damned shaman is halfway across the ocean, at the far end of the Occidens."

Garus lifted up his pistol and aimed at the crowd. "That means someone on this ship is the conduit, possessed with their gods-cursed magics, a bullseye the vile snake-skins can see from an ocean away." The hull took another heavy hit, and the alarm changed pitch. Lights in the room went dark and came back on in the red. Garus retained his calm fury, explaining, "That means we've got a hull breach. Water is filling some part of the ship. We can only handle a few more hits like that, two, three at most. So I'll keep this brief:

"No conduit, no storm. Turn over anyone who's been acting suspiciously, or we'll start shooting randomly, starting with you lot at the front." His pistol shifted, pointing right at Gwendolyn while his eyes were instead locked on Diamantus. "I'm waiting."

[370/1550]

Note
Not going to lie, you guys kind of killed half the tension I wanted to build by automatically having your characters know what was going on. None of you were present when Garus spoke to Libra, and he's drawing from his own veteran experience to make this judgment. Even Libra was surprised at the idea, so it shouldn't be something easy to guess. That's why the lot of you talking about it are immediately suspicious.

Lore Note: the Stricken races (including Ophidians) typically worship the Exul, the Banished counter-parts of the Vis. That much should be pretty common knowledge.
 
As Diamantus spoke, Micali paused to consider. The storm felt like it was to be particularly bad, though she was ready to write off this velen woman as paranoid. While the sea was a stranger to her, she found herself very doubtful that the authority of the kingdom would send their ship through somewhere dangerous. On the off chance that the other was correct, she’d simply need to hold out for the storm to end. As she steadied herself next to Diamantus, more rumblings of the storm around the ship hit hard, nearly sending the sniper sprawled onto the floor of the mess hall again.

Someone on the ship was creating the storm? Now she’d surely heard it all. She knew some powerful magic users in her life, but never to this extent. If the captain were to seek this supposed saboteur out, it was in Micali’s best interest to not interfere - even to assist, so she could get to Aridus in one piece.

“I’m-” she cut off, feet now planted firmly to not fall over yet again, “Micali.” Seeing as she’d likely never see this woman again, it wasn’t too much of a risk to give her a truthful name.

Everything happened quickly from there, as the doors were barred and the tension in the room grew thicker than smoke. Then the captain entered and began yelling.

Micali’s steadied feet failed her and by the time she’d stood and found the man, still resolute on the other end of the room, he had lifted his pistol to the crowd. Micali’s eyebrows narrowed. “Fucking asshole,” she breathed out, just loud enough for the woman next to her to perceive, and watched as the gun’s barrel finally landed on Gwendolyn at the front of the crowd, few bright feathers visible even from the back half of the room. Micali’s hands clenched into fists as her eyes trained on the captain. He was looking right back - or perhaps at the woman next to her? Either way, she couldn’t very well pull out her gun and attack a member of the Pelagian military.

Yet here she was again, watching a young woman she’d been stupid enough to align herself with be put directly in death’s sight. Micali was at the crossroads of shutting her eyes and waiting for the resounding bang or pulling her own weapons to prevent the death of yet another innocent girl.

She stood firmly at the center of that crossroads and tensed as her mind found a third path - find the culprit. As she’d done countless times before in her life, Micali Alsara sought a target, eyes forced to remain calm and precise in the now ominous crimson light as she watched for anything - someone to run, to move further back in the crowd, to even fidget - that could get the barrel of that gun away from the spurii.

[1589]
 
The calm before the storm has been cut abruptly short; what should have been a smooth voyage toward war-torn waters is now caught up in a literal, and unnatural, storm. A veteran of several campaigns against ophidians, Captain Garus has recognized the signs of a shaman's storm-shaping and quickly recognized that the ophidian forces could not have reached so far into velen waters. Instead, there is at least one individual on the ship that has been possessed by a shaman, becoming a conduit for the wild magics to reach halfway across the ocean. With the storm battering at the ship, there's limited time to find the culprit and find a way to stop them.

Beginning from the next turn, you have 10 minutes (600 seconds) to locate the conduit, and stop them by any means at your disposal. Each turn, you should estimate how long your actions took -- if it helps, speak any dialogue aloud to time yourself. Your estimate may be revised if it's too far off the mark, and each GM turn will list the current official time remaining.

Difficulty: 70
100+ Great Success
70+ Success
< 70 Failure
< 50 Critical

Mission Bonuses (Unique to the Mission)

+/-?? - The Upset: The situation resolved in an unexpected way.
+20 - There Must Be Another Way: The conduit was stopped without resorting to killing them. Note that simply knocking them out will not work.
+20 - At the Buzzer: You succeeded with less than 30 seconds remaining.
+0 - Target Located: This is necessary to advance.
-20 - Standoff: Precious time has been wasted in a standoff between two or more individuals.
-20 - Aaand, Action?: Precious time has been wasted without actually doing anything.

Standard Bonuses (each available once):

+30 - Page-turner: Wrote at least 3000 words.
+5 - Neophyte: Used a novice- or adept-tier ability.
+10 - Veteran: Used a skilled- or master-tier ability.
+20 - Legend: Used a grandmaster-tier ability.
+10 - Great Feats: Used a feat ability of any tier.
+10 - Magnum Performance: Used a magnum or ultimum ability of any type.

Roleplaying Bonuses (subject to reader scrutiny):

+10 - It's Personal: Your PC has a history with one of the characters, which is touched on or fleshed out here.
+10 - Rogues' Gallery: The antagonists were given distinct personalities.
+10 - Playing the Part: You performed actions iconic to your character.
+10 - Assimilation: The overarching plot has been woven into personal plot.
-10 - Mary Sue and Gary Stu: It's 1000 years too early for you to break a sweat.
-30 - Fade to Black: The thread was not completed in a timely manner. Repercussions for the protagonists may follow.


To better flow, I've split the two groups into new threads.

Amanita, Micali, and Diamantus remain with Garus and the rest of the group in the mess hall: The Basal Lake - In A Barrel

Gwen and Laermont are with Libra hunting the hallways: The Basal Lake - Eyes On You

You're sharing the 600 second timer, but the timer may progress differently in each thread. If either thread runs out of time, their progress will be halted until both threads are caught up. If either thread finds and stops the conduit before time runs out, both threads succeed. This gives you two paths for success.
 
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"Put the gun down, Captain," Amanita said. Her stony glare was locked on the barrel. "This is no way to resolve things. Many of the volunteers are mercenaries, and they won't take being threatened. If you don't want things to deteriorate even more, consider that we are all in this together." She motioned to the mess hall and the submarine beyond that.

"Maybe you can give us more information about this possession. How is it enacted? Is the target acting as a puppet or of their own will? The more everyone knows about it, the better we can find any suspicious activity." No one was in their normal routine so everyone's activity would be considered beyond ordinary.

[1270]
 
The weapon shifted, aiming at Amanita. This time was no idle threat and with a deafening hiss, three bolts shot across the gap, trailing streams of lightning. The three bolts hit Amanita squarely, penetrating just deeply enough to pierce clothing and into skin. It was like getting struck with a bolt of lightning; in an instant, every muscle in her body screamed in agony as the burning power rushed through her. Amanita didn't even have a chance to scream before she crumpled to the ground, smoke rising from her scorched clothing.

A peal of thunder followed less than a second after the initial shot, followed by a click as Garus broke open the weapon and slotted new bolts into it, clicking it closed.

"This is my ship," the captain declared, "and none of us have the time for your foolishness." Ignoring the woman twitching on the ground, he shouted to the rest. "The conduit is a pawn of the naga, under their control. With the protection of the wild magic, they will be unharmed by a storm's might, including lightning." He swept an arm toward Amanita: her outburst had lifted suspicion from her, a tithe of pain. "If you know of any among you that has been in contact with the fiends, or any that none can vouch for, send them forward."

The pistol was still smoking as he brandished it, standing tall even as the Arsenic swayed and shuddered turbulently. "One life for the lives of everyone else here."

[250/1800]

550 seconds remaining

Amanita is stunned but should recover.
 
It wasn’t when the captain waved the gun toward the organizer of the volunteers, and it wasn’t when he pulled the trigger. It wasn’t when he went on his ego trip, nor when the compensation for his insecurities smoked and fizzled with electricity. It was when he spoke. Vis above, how stupid could he be?

Perhaps it required the mind of one who knows better than to trust those close to them. That aside - for such a big, strong man, the captain was still too soft, too trusting. The volunteers collected from Avelyn were all there to collect the rewards, be it glory or coin, from fighting the naga. The likeliest culprits for naga possession were those who had been fighting the damned things for months.

“The only ones that’ve been in contact with the naga are you and your crew!” Micali’s voice rising above the frightened, panicking crowd was a shock even to herself, and while she knew her words could only ring true, she still prepared for the blast of lightning that would surely come her way. She didn’t flinch as her eyes locked with the madman who held the gun - the only thing standing between the ship and survival.

[1791]

535 seconds remaining
 
Diamantus drew her pistols and Laermont’s hand shifted towards the hilt of his sabre. The detective’s eyeplates flared as he scanned methodically through the crowd. Every investigation had to begin with a thorough evaluation of the suspects, so when they were packed into one room, it was easier to do this. On the other hand, Diamantus began stalking forward, not afraid to get into everyone’s faces as her hard eyes scanned them and her guns stayed ominously resting in her hands. If anyone so much as flinched the wrong way, they’d get to find out how intolerant she was of traitors.

However, everything came to a dead halt when Garus shot Amanita with his shock weapon and Micali called out her accusations to the whole room. Laermont stood, like a gigantic monolith, a certain tension in his frame as he fixed his eyeplates on Garus and his heavy sword moved into a more ready position.

Diamantus broke the silence. “She’s right, Captain. It’s pretty likely someone on the crew’s involved.”

Not one to mince words, she continued. “Someone’s gotta search the ship. If a crew member’s our culprit, they ain’t necessarily in here. Lotsa hiding places. I’ll go with Laermont there and look. Whaddaya say, Captain?”

[1695]

520 seconds remaining
 
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Weakly, Gwendolyn piped up as well. "I uh m-mapped the ship yesterday and today because I thought it would be a good idea to know where everything is for when the fighting starts later, but it seem like the fighting has kinda started now only it's not the kind of fighting that I thought would be starting because holy viskar you just shot that girl and even though I know I haven't done anything wrong I'm kinda nervous that you'll shoot me anyway because you look kinda scary and I really don't wanna get shocked with magic because I don't know how the enchantments on my dress will react and I worked really really hard on this and I don't wanna ruin the whole thing because you have an itchy trigger finger-."

Her usually strong chattering trailed off into a nervous titter as the girl raised her journal up towards Diamantus, then pulled it in front of her self as if to shield herself from the bolt, unsure what to do with the book and her hands, halfway considering reaching for her bow like Diamantus had reached for her weapons. T

Even still, Micali and Diamantus' words had echoed her own rather succinctly. If the traitor was indeed on the ship, then it would make sense that they would be easily accessible and have easy access to information about the ship in case of complications.

A crew member was the most logical choice.

Gwen, too nervous to reasonably slow her speech, had begun describing all the moral issues with shooting a stranger without qualms and the potential outcomes of violently igniting the cosmetic enchantments in her dress at dizzying speed. It seemed possible she might loop back around to supporting Diamantus with further discussion in a moment or two, but it was unclear.

[522 seconds remaining]
 

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