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"Well, I don't want to hold you up. I'll climb and you can keep your bodyguards with Lywthast. Lywthast, if you see the others, tell them what I am doing." Zephyr finds a place to start climbing and scales the wall as if he were at home in the mountains.
Lywthast nods, "Be careful, Zephyr."
The official watches Zephyr's climb for a moment and then signals her subordinates to row away. The septsman, used to steep, mountain cliffs, has no difficulty scaling the rough surface. The wooden replacement wall is the shortest route, and leads to a stable platform of sorts. As Zephyr pulls himself over the side, he is able to get a view of the full compound in front of him. This section of wall has been widened slightly to serve as a crude walkway between two of the buildings. In either direction there are roughly-made, thin, wooden doors.
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."
"Did I miss something in the church? I keep meeting folk who wanted to fight my friends, but will 'settle' for me. Hate to disappoint. What are you trying to do with Lywthast? I would ask if this can be resolved peacefully, but I am going to guess no." Zephyr unloads his pick and readies himself for another scramble.
As Zephyr reaches for his pick, he feels a blade press against his right side. Amazingly, there is a man standing next to him. Zephyr was convinced the door was too thin for a person to hide behind, but now that he's noticed this newcomer, he can feel menace oozing from him like grease from unwashed skin.
"Choose to fight and you will hurt for it, my friend," the man says gently. He's short, gaunt, and of middle years. In his other hand, he's carrying a loaded pistol crossbow. He also seems familiar. After a moment's thought, Zephyr recalls him as one of the three visitors to the Second Candle Inn on the first night after his arrival in Beilston. He was the one carrying a lantern at the time, who stood watch as his companions entered the Woerd from the inn's cellar.
"Lywthast? I'm at a loss for words," says the first speaker, but clearly he is not, "I know who that is, to be sure, but we never did find her at the Garden of Preparation. We have no quarrel with her; we were merely looking for her so I could place her under my protection, away from the influence of the church. Is that your church, by the way? I would dearly like to know who you represent. The Church of the Great Master? The Church of Saint Ioun? I would be happy to resolve this situation peacefully, but I, too, do not foresee that happening." He turns his side toward Zephyr, crouching slightly, and looks ready to dodge or parry an incoming attack.
"I may have to settle for you," he goes on, "but this isn't going to be a duel. I'm afraid you are our prisoner. If you don't acknowledge that right now, we will be compelled to demonstrate it to you as quickly as possible."
"I am peaceful man living in an aggressive world. I was informed you wanted to kidnap and possibly harm Lywthast, so we went in to save her. I cannot speak for my friends, but I am affiliated with no church here. I represent a man who does not like harm being brought to innocent girls. You have also kidnapped some scribe friends of mine. They did nothing to you and do not deserve kidnapping. If you want to 'protect' them, so be it, but under their own volition, not bound and gagged."
Zephyr eyes the two men carefully, but does not drop his resolve. "I have been attacked by both your 'gang' and the church of the great master since I have arrived in this town. I have interrupted a ritual that would have flooded this valley ten fold that was initiated by a mage who appeared to follow Saint Ioun, but seemed to have some allegiance to Avadra. Everywhere I go, aggression. I only represent myself and my friends, like those you kidnapped. So, if you want to settle this peacefully, I suggest a couple of things. First, you both stow your weapons in good faith and I will do the same. Second, you tell me what you are doing and why you kidnapped those scribes. Third, you tell me why the authorities are after you. Finally, you bring me to all of those you took from the book store and put us all on a boat so that we may return, unscathed. If that seems reasonable, or at least negotiable, then let's talk peace. If not, I will bring the fury of a volcano upon you before I become anyone's prisoner. So what is it gentlemen? A nice conversation, or loss of consciousness?" Zephyr positions himself to defend against any unwarranted assault.
The man with the blade sighs, "Breko will talk to you all day long, but I'm not that patient. How about you drop your weapon and gear right now, or I subdue your kidneys with my knife?"
The first man shrugs apologetically, "I'm afraid my companion has grown tired of our conversation. Unfortunately, I must defer to his wishes."
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."
"Well, my father always said, 'violence begets violence.' If that's what you wish, then that's what you'll get." With that Zephyr starts to hack viscously at his aggressor.
"Hail Neighbor! No worries gentle sir, we will be out of your prodigious whiskers in no time. We lost something that came floating by not too long ago. We would just like to snatch it up before it causes too much damage to your home and/or nearby residents!"Quote:
Originally Posted by Umiushi
Noxias keeps his distance from the rotund challenger, and attempts to pilot the flimsy ship around the garbage to the east.
Trying her best to seem truly neighborly, Yrisz nonchalantly follows in Noxias's wake, mirroring his twists and turns as he starts to circumvent the trash piles.
"Yes, his name is Zephyr and he jumped in the water a short bit back and we do think he might have shown up here," Yrisz explains helpfully, her high voice pitched to ease the mustached man's understanding.
"Oh Zephyr, Zephyr!" she calls with all her might, eyeing the piles of filth hopefully, while praying under her breath that Zephyr's body truly doesn't reside in either of the vermin invested heaps.
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.
As Zephyr regains consciousness, his inner monologue starts, "Great! I try to be brave and this is where it gets me... I guess I should have surrendered... Ahh well. At least I wake up to a pretty face, right? Time to summon that amazing strength."
"Violence is the last refuge of the impotent," Noxias calls out while limply holding his punting pole in a suggestive manner. "If there is violence in your heart then then so be it. I do not wish burn your flesh from your body, but I will not turn until I recover my brother in arms."Quote:
Originally Posted by Umiushi
He places the punting pole down and grabs his staff while cold purple energy coalesces around his hands.
"Oh, you do know Zephyr, and by your admission he is already here. Well, I'm really quite sorry sir," Yrisz says punting for as fast as she can manage, "but your organization has had done a great deal to make me distrust any of the benevolent promises given by its members. I really really wish I could and that our honor didn't require any of this."
"I do as well have full confidence in the accuracy of both of your to crossbows and will try not to inconvenience you for too long a time."
With that said she does not even look back at the assaulting crossbowmen as she forces all her attentions to the closest dock as her coracle surges towards it.