Acqua Alta Finale Main Post #34
This is the thirty-fourth Acqua Alta Finale main post. Players' posts in either thread are due by 11 pm, Saturday, June 30th. The next main post will appear by 11 am, Monday, July 2nd.
Zephyr makes his way along the slippery walkway and pushes open the door to the south. He steps into a lantern-lit, dirty room, devoid of furniture. Facing him on the other side of the room is a man with a prominent Adam's apple, wearing thick, linen armor. In each hand, he holds a spear in the upright position.
"What's this?" he says, revealing a gap-toothed smile. His oily voice sounds familiar. "This is the first time we meet face-to-face, but you are, shall I say, unmistakeable?
"I am, however, more interested in your companion from that night, the one who was sired by an orc." He crosses his spears in front of him, "I badly want to test him."
Acqua Alta Finale Main Post #35
This is the thirty-fifth Acqua Alta Finale main post. Players' posts in either thread are due by 11 pm, Tuesday, July 3rd. The next main post will appear by 11 pm, Thursday, July 5th.
As the group approaches the structure, the sun breaks out from amid the clouds. Shafts of golden, afternoon sunlight illuminate the soggy, wooden construction and make silhouettes out of the birds and drakes in the sky. To Noxias's eyes, the sun of this land is an unfamiliar, small orb, lacking the rich colors and textures of his home, but too painfully intense to look at directly or for long.
The boats tied to the walls of the flooded compound are unmistakeably of the type the Matchless Gang was using. Slowly spinning about in the sunken courtyard are two veritable islands of garbage, a feast for the winged lizards that fight and claw their way through the stinking masses.
From between the pitiable "ramparts" of the central building, a portly figure emerges, a man with pale red hair and a significant, bristling mustache. He's wearing a mail coat.
"Ho, there!" he shouts in a booming voice that carries well despite the birds and the wind. "Come any closer and you'll be trespassing. Consider that a neighborly admonition."
Acqua Alta Finale Main Post #36
This is the thirty-sixth Acqua Alta Finale main post. Players' posts in either thread are due by 11 pm, Saturday, July 7th. The next main post will appear by 11 am, Monday, July 9th.
A stony-faced, hook-nosed man wearing a wool cloak and a black capotain joins the first man on the rooftop. He balances a loaded, metal crossbow with a prominent lever on one of the shorter wooden slats. His free hand, held at shoulder-level, holds a second quarrel.
"Nice bluff, sir," says the first man to Noxias, and then to Yrisz: "Girlie, I know who Zephyr is, and I have a pretty good idea of who you are, too. In short, I know what you and your friends are up to. Now let me tell you, there's a safe course, and that's to head back. Nobody has to lose their lives here. Not you, not Zephyr, and not the friends you're looking for, but that's as long as you turn around.
"My associate here is a crack shot, and," he hefts up a crossbow with a large, wooden case mounted over the stock, "I can still strike the odd target, myself. I feel bad, aiming at such a pretty one, but trespassers are trespassers."
Inside the structure, Zephyr spins quickly and drives his pick in a tight arc towards the man next to him. His opponent bats it aside with his arm at the cost of a bright red gash from wrist to elbow. The air whistles through his clenched teeth and he drives his knife into Zephyr's side.
With a whoop, Breko quickly closes the distance. Using his left spear to entangle Zephyr's weapon, he thrusts with his right spear, driving it into the half-elf's thigh. The other man then pulls out his knife in a corkscrew motion. Enveloped in agony, Zephyr's vision blackens, and he falls to the floor.
When Zephyr comes to, the pain has lessened to a burning, throbbing ache, and he finds himself lying on his side in another room, bound hand and foot, and gagged. He's staring at a pair of long-lashed, blue eyes set in a beautiful face framed by strawberry-blond hair. This face evidently belongs to another captive, judging from the dirty rag that serves as a gag, interfering with the otherwise-appealing image.