The Great War: Clash at Kursk

[Dorni]

Kursk was alive this night.

The large factories that the city hosted had never truely slept; since the elves' devastating attack months ago they'd been churning out a constant supply of munitions to feed the war effort. Many civilians had fled eastward as the elven forces continued to advance ever nearer the city, but their vacancy went largely unnoticed. For weeks now, UGSR troops had been flooding into the city, swelling the population to bursting. Every available hand had been conscripted into fortifying the city, turning the surrounding countryside into a nightmare of minefields and gun emplacements in anticipation of the enemy's coming. The elves would be fools to try and take this city.

And yet, for months the Elves had done just that to city after city, advancing like an unstoppable pointy-eared tide. The question hung in the air - could even this nightmarish defense stop the Elves?

In contrast to the chaotic bustle outside, one particular room in the makeshift command center was quiet. The building had been the City Hall before being re-purposed for the war. Now, the meeting room room was almost stark. A dozen chairs had been set-up facing the front of the room where an empty board waited. This was the room where the UGSR Special Forces, the country's elite forces, were assigned to gather for a mission briefing.

Several chairs were already occupied - a grizzled hobgoblin, his fatigues almost completely hidden by the sheer number of guns and spare ammunition strapped to him, was loudly arguing with with the more traditionally equipped goblin next to him about the merits of Worgs vs Bears. Just behind them sat a towering figure - resembling a bipedal dragon more than anything, the hulking dragonkin towered over her goblin brethren. Her thick armor didn't hide her patient disinterest; she'd heard that argument many times before.

[Anomander]

Gorkil resisted the urge to stuff a grenade up the hobgoblin's arse.

"No, ye' daft bugger! Sure, they'll probably rip up a Worg in a fight, but the Worg's speed is worth way more than their attack!"

An almost comically-filled backpack sat on the floor between his feet, and Gorkil stomped on it in his enthusiasm. An ornate adamantine dagger was grasped in one hand, but it was a far cry from being a threat to anyone but the goblin himself as he waved his hands about. Dropped carelessly on the floor beside his pack were two contraptions that vaguely resembled weapons - a heavily-nicked scimitar but with piles of wire holding on bits and pieces of apparent junk, and a thing that seemed to be a cross between a crossbow and an ancient blunderbuss but with dozens of spiky things attached and with red paint apparently splattered at random.

"Sure, they're stubborn and'll disobey you as often as not, but they're a lot smarter than bears! I tell Growler to carry a message to someone and he'll disobey me to my face, and he knows he's doing it! Bears certainly won't do that! Ha!"

He folds his arms across his chest with a smirk on his face, obviously having won the argument.

[NuclearCommando]

On one of the chairs at the table sat another hobgoblin, who looked less grizzled than his arguing counterpart but definitely far more scarred, with evidently long wounds sticking out from his loose fatigues. Around where his eyes would be, there was instead a long bandage covering them, with slight deformations in the face structure around it. Unlike his gun covered counterpart, not only was he not taking part in the argument, he also lacked firearms on his person in their entirety, instead having the traditional sword and shortsword hanging from his belt. He sat with his feet kicked up onto the table, leaning back with his chair precariously standing on two legs.

Artem had been listening to the argument since it's inception, and he was quite close to having gotten sick of it. He had his own reservations about the two types of "critters", if you could call them that in any way, but he didn't really care as much as the many in the USGR's forces that did, and had this argument at every damn deployment he'd had so far.

"Are y'all done over there? This bloody argument has gone on for long enough to make me wanna be deaf, not blind." he hollered over the belligerents. "Every time, people find a way to start arguing about this, and never covering any new ground on this anti-circle wank." he continued, except with far less volume than his previous statement.

[Bobbybobby99]

Fionus sat, legs crossed, casually in his chair. His skin, the more traditionally hobgoblin shade of soft yellow, and his somewhat long hair might give the impression of someone hippy dippy; but the reality was quite contrary. With a cloak bedecked with runes, an unholy symbol strung across his neck, and eyes as sharp and calculating as a hawk, you could tell that he was nobody to be trifled with. This argument, or soon to be brawl as it seemed in severity, was a trifle. Of course, it was only one of many in the 'unified' state; one of the strange things that happen when two groups are alike, is that they tend to look ever the more at the most minor of differences. Maglubiyet watched after all, but if it wouldn't have gotten him assassinated he would be engaging in a significant amount of strangling. He was satisfied at the blind hobgoblin's resolution, but felt the need to break his silence on the matter.
"I can help along with the whole 'deafness' thing, if you would prefer. In any case, I concur with my colleague, and refuse to believe that this is the most appropriate use of our time. This is, at best, a unit by unit question to be asked, particularly since opinion differs so much, and I am deeply uninterested in continuing this topic. Now, could we please get on with the matter at hand?

[Anomander]

"Bah! You'unz obviously have never had a good Worg about to kill 'yeh or ye'd be respectin' them a bit more! Growler's almost gotten me two or three times - ain't no bear has ever gotten that close!"

The knife in his grip almost slices his cheek as he gestures to a couple scars where his ear had been reattached.

Gorkil pulls out a homemade, grenade-like thing out of his patchwork jacket and pulls the pin, waving them around in the air. "'E had me pinned face down and had started to bite my head off when I plucked on 'o these out and was gonna blow us both to bits! Well he weren't fooled none by that! He bit down on me hand and grenade, keeping me from lettin' go 'o the spoon! So there I was with me hand in his mouth and a grenade in me hand! I had 'im right where I wanted him! Showed him who's boss!"

Gorkil jams the pin back into the grenade and stows it inside his jacket again and leans back.

'Aye, he's a wicked one he is! Learned to like the taste 'o gunpowder and now he'll chew on my grenades if I don't watch 'im. Only thing he likes better is elf!"

Gorkil scans the room.

"Speakin' 'o the stinking creatures, we should be out killin' 'em. What's holdin' things up around here?"

He raises his voice, making sure it easily carries outside the room's confines.

[Nettlekid]

The doors at the back of the auditorium swing open abruptly, and barely visible above the line of the chairs is a bobbing hat.
"Calm yourselves, all, calm and be still! No need to worry nor fret, dry your eyes and quiet your harried hearts, for the best among us has arrived! I say," the croaking voice remarks, casting eyes over the hall. "Not that I'm usually one to complain about intimacy with an audience, but I was expecting perhaps a few more faces? When I was made aware of the UGSR's task force, I'd rather been hoping there'd be enough to take on more than one task at a time. By my count there's only what, three here? Or well, semantics, do we count a Goblin as a half, or a Hob as two? Mind you, not that I'm one to remark on who's coming up short, aha!"
Corvid strides to a chair and hops up onto it, then shifts into a seating position. His little bird legs stick out at the front.
"When does this show start, anyway?"

[Dorni]

"Ha!" The room's lack of appreciation for the motherland's great war-beasts didn't dampen the hobgoblin's enthusiasm one bit. "Little comrade, worg maybe outrun you, but no worg can outrun bullet. Better to fight and win. In fact-"

"Spetz. Enough." The disembodied words were quiet but completely cut off the hobgoblin. The source of the words became clear a moment later as you suddenly notice another goblin, darkened chain barely visible under his concealing cloak, that had been clinging to the ceiling. Two feet and a hand casually anchored him to the ceiling, looking almost lazy at first, but his expressionless eyes never stopped scanning the room, casually assuming any of them could be a threat. His free hand bore a wicked-looking gauntlet encrusted with magical runes. "You and Dmitri can continue this in the field." Just as soon as he finishes speaking, he fades from view again.

"Don't mind Sspooke," volunteered the hulking dragonkin. "He'ss alwayss like that before a misssion. He just getss damn tired of the brasss always making uss hurry up and wait for them to sshow up."

[Born]

Near Fionus sat a thoroughly-wrinkled old goblin with dull green skin. Saruzn's face was barely visible beneath the dark cloak which concealed all but his hands. An extremely observant spectator might discern the subtle patterns woven in the cloak's fabric which shift amid shadows for optimal concealment. The old goblin sat patiently, observing the shadows of the soldiers as they argued their pointless argument. After all, Worgs were clearly the superior mounts with their ability to blend easily into the shadows.

Regardless, Saruzn was by far most interested in the way Gorkil's shadow danced across the room. Not many creatures Saruzn had met could demonstrate better how shadows played in the light as the enthusiastic goblin. Even his profession provided some of the best opportunities. On many occasions, Saruzn had been the only one looking away from an explosion to see how the shadows it generated writhed in the changing light. Meanwhile, Saruzn's shadow servant silently waited in a dark corner of the room, occasionally reaching out to tenderly grasp the fluttering shadows cast by Saruzn's cloak. The elemental could be surprisingly gentle with its own kind - a characteristic thankfully absent from its treatment of living foes.

[NuclearCommando]

Artem began to swing around in his chair, using his feet to both push and balance him against the table in a rather risky position, as memory dawned upon him, and he recognized the squad that was in the same briefing as him. When he had heard that there would be two squads at Kursk for the mission, he'd been somewhat surprised, considering the rarity of the USGR's SF deployments. But if they were deploying this particular squad with them, a squad with plenty of successful missions to their name with a rather new one, something big was happening.

"I won't mind him, I'd mind getting my head blown through a wall." Artem mumbled, before he finally tilted his chair into a position of considerably less danger, and questioned "Speaking of, where the hell's our officer? We've been waiting around for a while longer than I'd expected. If this is something big, wouldn't they want us to have as much time as we need to prepare? Assuming this is big, but I doubt, with two squad deployments, that this is a milk run."

[Anomander]

Gorkil scowls at the hobgoblin, but lets the argument drop.

'Some gobs are just too stupid to know better,' he grumped to himself.

"Ha! Don't need no prep time! We are ready to go! We'll blow 'em sky high! Send 'em downa hells where they belong."

Artem's words did cause him to wonder. "Dunno where dey are. As long as dey gotta mission, I'm all aboudit. Gonna kill me some elves. Feed 'em to growler. He'll eat 'em up before the bears get off their fat asses."

[Bobbybobby99]

Fionus blinked twice upon seeing the Spoke suddenly appear to the senses, but lightly shook his head to dismiss his surprise. You always had to be wary about the quiet ones. He smiled lightly at his shadowy friend's intentness on the shade play occurring with the rapid hand waving. But that was the extent of his sentimentality. There were pressing concerns.
He spoke.
"Assuming that we're being reasonable, the absence of higher ups is rather mundane. But being reasonable is a very good way to get killed in our ancient and modern profession, so we must resort to paranoia. Thus, I suspect that something rather disagreeable may have occured." He took a notable pause, thinking over the possibilities. "Beyond the mundane, our superiors may have been killed, mutilated, or kidnapped, have set us up to be killed, mutilated, or kidnapped, are engaged in battle, or otherwise impeded."

[Nettlekid]

"Me and him both, ey? Birds of a feather!" Corvid remarks loudly in response to the dragonkin's explanation of Spoke's behavior. "It's remarkably generous of the commanders, isn't it? We've had a dire shortage of punctuality lately. Barely enough to feed the kids. But the commanders, they treat us right. They give pitch in and give us their rations of punctuality, so we get here right on time, on the dot, but lo! There's no punctuality left for them at all! Sorrowful, sorrowful conditions these wartimes have put us into. Where there's not a scrap of punctuality to be spared. Someone should see to it that they get their fair share!"

[Dorni]

In that moment, the door slammed open. The Hobgoblin officer responsible marched to the front of the room, trailed by a pair of soldiers. His eyes flicked over the assembly, mouth curling in distaste.

"Quit yapping and take your seats. We're starting briefing."

The officer pulled out a short wand and flicked it at the wall at the front of the room. Instantly, a map of the surrounding region hung against the wall. The long, sinuous line marked the front lines separating the elven forces in the west from the UGSR forces in the east. Markers representing elven forces were clustered heavily around the cities of Bryansk and Kharkov. Conspicuously, two regions on the map were numbered "1" and "2".

http://s2.postimg.org/f7d6vcy1l/Clask_at_Kursk_Map.jpg

"As you all know, we've been progressively slowing the elves' advance. Weeks ago, Intelligence intercepted elven plans to for renewed offensive. They're been flooding forces into region with goal of taking our present location, Kursk. We expect them to attack in two forces, one to north and one to south, to encircle and capture Kursk. We're going to meet them and show might of goblin motherland!"

His teeth flashed a predatory smile.

"Your role will not be on the front lines. The elves are using two captured cities as supply bases for assault. Bryansk in north, Kharkov in south. You will divide into teams and slip behind the main force. Identify, disrupt, and destroy the stations they use to repair their Treants. Without ability to return Treants to front lines, we will grind them down and crush them."

"You understand objective?"

[Nettlekid]

"In premise, absolutely, but I hasten to suggest a potential...amendment, if you would. In my time I have come to the conclusion that while it is always advisable to disarm a foe, 'tis far better to do so with an open hand. Now, imagine we manage to infiltrate one of the bases which services the Treants, take that as a foregone conclusion because it's what we do, and we're faced with the capability of its destruction. Is there not a more...let's call it, environmentally friendly way of removing the Treant threat? I won't pretend to have a strong understanding of arcane magic, but the general rumor is that the Treants are what, empowered, controlled, what-have-you, by the Elves. Only it wouldn't be the Elves, would it, it would be their magic. And if we were to gain influence over that magic, well, we'd see if the Elves' bark really is worse than their bite.

Based on preliminary recon and what intel we have, is this at all feasible? To infiltrate the bases and, rather than destroying them outright, wresting control of the Treants to put to our purposes?"

[Anomander]

"Oh gods ..." Gorkil mutters half way through the second sentence. He leans over to the Hobgoblin next to him, the hob's preference for bears momentarily forgiven, and whispers, "I think we gots a new superweapon 'gainst the elves. We send him over and he'll talk 'em ta death."

As Corvid's rambling speech finally comes to an end, Gorkil hops up.

"No sir, no questions. We'll burn the elves' base down 'round their dainty ears. We just need ta know the types of defenses they 'ave and we'll be off. No questions, sir." He pops his hand up in a quick salute, rather sloppy from disuse, but recognizable.

He wasn't sure he'd used the term 'sir' in months, but the hobgobs seemed to like the word, and if it would help convince da boss hob to stop the talky-talking it would be worth using it.

[Bobbybobby99]

Fionus was almost disappointed when the hobgoblin came in, ever so close to promptly. After the lengthy speech, his mouth quirked, and he spoke, glad to be finnally be productive. His voice was as airy as ever. "I'm glad that we finally have a cessation of worthless blather-oh, wait. Why, in the name of the nine hells, would the elves not insert a bobbytrap into their uber-control system? Do you know precisely how easy it is to specify in a magic device that it explodes in a roaring fury whenever a non-elf touches it? Absurdly so."
He raised a single eyebrow, further.
"And, having patronage of the Lord of Darkness, and any degree of proper paranoia, I disapprove of any plan that neatly gives away our intentions and rough location, while leaving plenty of time for minor clerics to rain water from the sky. Like, oh, burning down the joint.

[NuclearCommando]

While the others clamored about with their plans for how they'd deal with the task that had been set for them, Artem gritted his teeth as he uttered "Comprende.", cursing his lack of sight for the the first time in a while, aware that there was likely a map of the location and mission aiding the briefing CO.

He kicked his feet off the table, and began to get up, his belt hung blades clattering against his legs as he assumed a far more formal position. He found all this quite well and good, despite the suggestions of non-violent tactics that he was not very fond of, but he could already hear the issues in this plan. It was far too simple, nothing like the intricate executives of William that he had so followed all those years back, and accounted for nothing. He didn't see himself as making anything better, but he could definitely raise the question. "Before we get into what we'll do to disrupt the Elven nonsense, should we not consider how the hell we're gonna waltz into those camps? If I know one thing, it's that the elves love their security most of the time. Breaking out of one of those was hard enough, so unless one of us can make us just materialize next to the Treant repairs areas, we're gonna need an insertion plan. And I can't think of jack."

[Anomander]

Gorkil first smiles then scowls at Fionus's words, and then nods at Artem's words. "Hmph," he grumbles. "If ye' do it right, the fire isn't necessary - the damage is done. The fire's just a benefit." A toothy grin. "Explosions with benefits - the best types!"

"But, aye. He have the right of the infiltration need. So we got a plan fer' that?"

Gorkil looks to the officer at the front of the room for a brief second and then remembers that he's trying to impress the guy. "Uhr, uh, sir." He gives another salute-like motion.

[Born]

Fionus and Artem both made good points. Getting in would be a problem, and not being found once they were there was just as difficult a problem. Saruzn knew that the higher ups would have the beginnings of a plan, but he would have to hear it before he put any faith in it. As always, the team would have to depend on the shadows to get them behind the lines.

In spite of these difficulties, Saruzn believed he might have a solution at least to the problem of giving away their position after destroying the first station. "The problem of fires can be addressed. Suppose we plant as many of the explosives as is feasible before setting them off? That should give us the cover to finish off the rest of the stations amid the chaos. Do we have intelligence regarding the number of these stations the elves have constructed?" Saruzn at last directed his gaze away from Gorkil's lively shadow to address the goblin directly. "Even you should find this plan agreeable, Gorkil. How would you like to see everything burn at once?" Saruzn grinned at the thought. "But all of this depends first on whether we can infiltrate the Elven forces in the first place. The shadows can aid us in this, but I would like to hear the sort of plan off of which we must build."

[Anomander]

Gorkil jumps to his feet, standing on his chair.

"Yeah! Blow it all up! 'At's the route! A bit of a delay isn't a problem, and ..."

His eyes go dreamy and his voice fades off.

"We could set them off in series! Patterns! Watch as explosions dance across the camp. Waves of fire. rings of blast patterns. ripples of blasts coordinated. big explosions. little explosions. Waltzing in time with each other. Beautiful blasts. So lovely. The fire. pressure patterns ...."

The ferociously painted and scarred goblin stares into space, a soft and wondrous look suffusing his face.

[Dorni]

Corvid received a raised eyebrow for his speech. "I've never heard of Treant being... commandeered? If you can manage it it be big advantage."

The Hobgoblin nodded briskly at at Artem. "You'll infiltrate once the battle is underway. The enemy will march north from Kharkov and south-east from Bryansk for their pincer attack. Dmitri, your team will hit Bryansk from north-east. The 23rd Wyverns will transport you to your position. The rest of you will be hitting Kharkov. You'll approach from east on gound. The region is heavily forested and will provide plenty of cover. I care not whether you avoid patrols or eliminate them, but you must not allow runners to escape. Intelligence believes the elves are planning on you taking part in the front lines. If you're identified on the approach you'll lose the advantage of surprise. We have confirmed elven special forces will be participating in the battle. We cannot confirm where they're stationed. We'll radio you if we have an update."

"You will need to determine best way to eliminate base when you arrive. Once the main force moves out, we expect base will be under-strength. You'll be provided explosives to demolish base. If infiltration isn't feasible, eliminating the mages will suffice to interrupt the Treant healing."

[Bobbybobby99]

"Avoiding patrols would be the most feasible course of action, I'd say, considering where my particular talents lie, but if that option becomes unavailable I can hold my own with a bit of divinely granted assistance. I'll be requiring about 250 macaroons worth of diamond dust to perform the involved nondetections, so that they don't discern our presences. If they do divine our presences, we end up dead, mutilated, in the midst of being tortured, or simply inconvenienced, so I'd like to avoid such. I'll leave the specifics of destruction to others to formulate, provided that they aren't suicidal." Fionus said, tucking a stray hair behind his ear, eyes heavily concentrated on nothing in particular.

[NuclearCommando]

Suggestions, as was to be expected, began to fly around the room as his CO informed them of the infiltration plans, but in Artem's head, gears of memory were turning. He'd dealt quite a bit with the modern elven military, and their strict procedures and protocols, so he was aware of their plans. No way in hell were the soldiers going to be staying in any of the buildings that remained after the USGR's scorched earth policies took place, so there'd be plenty of them in the open. If only he could remember those damn plans from the officer's table, all those years ago... He had memorized them through and through, just like every other prisoner in that horror, but the emotions really clouded those over.

Still, he remarked "Right, sir. Good thing I know their campout protocols, since that'll really ease up on us, but I've got a better idea than loading up on warhead like a junkie on free angel dust, since too much weight'll just jack us up, hard. Y'all know about the I'ornwood trees, right? Well, I say we enter discrete and all, using-" He looked over to Fionus and nodded "-that expensive buggering around, and clean shop with one of the control rooms of those things. From what I know of them, the magic that they produce is regulated heavily to not cause an overflow. We override those controls with controlled demolition, and get our balls out of that joint as the place goes sky high."

"Command gets their Treant repairs over and done with, and we satisfy any thirst for smoke. Of course, that'll also **** all over the elfie forces nearby, but I think I definitely want that." is what he finished with, already considering the exact details of the infiltration plan.

[Anomander]

"... as the place goes sky high"

The words catch Gorkil's attention from his daydreams of synchronized explosions.

"Danm tootin' straight! Sneak in and blow the place sky high! I have me Worg, which is a lot faster than a bear. We'll be streakin' past their patrols before they even have a chance to see us.

"We ready to go?"

Gorkil grabs his pack and gun, ready to run out of the tent at that very moment. He never has gotten along with the whole "planning" thing. Just go git-er-done.

[Born]

Ironwood trees overflowing with magic? Saruzn hadn't heard of that before. Definitely something to ask Artem the details of later - applications of magic were endlessly fascinating to Saruzn. If only some of it could be drained away for the UGSR's own use. If there was any hope of that, it would likely come from the druids, though. And of course, the UGSR had far fewer of those than the pesky elves did. The thought would have to wait.

Back to the situation at hand. Saruzn had the tools to make sure that the team wasn't spotted, and to ensure that any elves who do get lucky enough to spot them can't escape. Thus, Saruzn had those contingencies covered, but since everyone in the room already knew that, he decided to keep to himself until he had something more to add.

[Dorni]

The Officer's eyebrows climbed up his forhead. "Destroy the Ironwood tree? Well, its been done before, but-"

"Da! Was best moment of life! Introduced so many elves to gun. Explosion was best explosion!"

"What the idiot means is the elves will defend the control room at all costs. And with all due respect," the deadpan Dmitri continued, "the elves who designed the Trees weren't idiots. Overloading the Tree takes more than a grenade. Bombing the control panel will mean the magic in the tree will just keep to its current settings till they repair it. The runes need to be set to direct all its energy into the core and the let-offs need to be disabled. It will take a skilled mage some time to work the runes and they'll need to be protected while they work. What you're suggesting is a far cry more than just planting some bombs at a supply outpost. Think you're up for it?"

[Bobbybobby99]

Fionus rolled his eyes at the antics of his compatriots, who continued to lack any sense of paranoia. "Our team lacks any traditional arcanists, but my shadowy compatriot should be able to defeat their protections, possibly without dying. Note the possibly, rather than the likely. Were you about to allocate the diamond dust? In the effort to not die a horrible, painful death with a significant amount of torture beforehand, the diamond dust is somewhat vital."

[Born]

"If it involves interpreting runes, I would very much like to try my hand at one of these control panels. If I can become accustomed to the configurations, I may be able to glean further information from the ironwood trees, provided it is stored there. If not, perhaps the question of whether the treants can be commandeered using the trees can be answered after all. I will see what I can do." Saruzn was almost as worried about the defenses that might be contained within the runes as Fionus was - a lot of spells could be powered with that kind of power source and contained within the runes themselves. He fully intended to scan the magic in every rune before beginning.

[Dorni]

"It will be risky. Far better guarded than Treant base. But explosion the size of Tree's in Caucasus Operation would level what remains of Kharkov, Treant base included."

The Officer glances at the ceiling, the calculations behind his eyes plain to see.

"And it would completely cripple their operational ability in the region at a single stroke. Very well. Your new target is Kharkov Ironwood Tree. Tree is located in middle of ruins of Kharkov in former city park. Approach will be same, but surprise will be paramount. Even when main force leaves city will still be crawling with elves. Speak with Requisitions before you head out. I will authorize any spell components or munitions neccessary." He shifts his eyes slightly. "That includes your diamonds."

"If no more questions, we are done here. Your transports are awaiting your arrival."

[Anomander]

"Ha ha!"

Gorkil claps the larger hobgoblin on the shoulder before hopping down off the chair, ready to head out the door at that very moment.

"You're a good'un, even if ya' do like bears. Now, that we be on our way, I've got a few batches of explosives I keep on me - special experimental ones, and I'll show ye' a few on our way. Some of 'em make a pow'ful big 'splosion! I get a few duds every once in a while, but most of 'em are good'uns! Found that pine sap with some alchemical ...."

Gorkil chats merrily along. Anyone listening who knows much about explosives must figure there's no possible way some of the concoctions Gorkil talks about could actually explode, but he certainly describes the details of their explosions in loving detail.

[NuclearCommando]

Kicking himself away from the table with a gentle amount of force, Artem also began to move out of the room, following the sound of Gorkil's loud rambling. He gave the goblin an odd smile, as he listened to the ramblings of the explosion obsessed goblin, and used it to guide him towards the door. He gave the CO a light salute at the door, and left, before adopting a slightly less formal posture right outside, somehow less than what he already had.

Out the door, he glanced in the general direction of Gorkil and said "Right, right, and we'll have a damn fine time using those to stick it right to the elves. But I sure as hell hope you don't start telling them about it before they're dead., with a light chuckle. He joked around further, concealing the nervousness he had before just about every mission, but also the tinges of happiness he'd get from screwing over those who'd killed so many of his beloved.

"In any case, let's get ourselves some fine diamond dust and get packin'. War doesn't wait for the crippled."

[Anomander]

"Ay Artem, gotta be sneaky, but when you gots the chance, you can have so much fun with da elves! I ran across a drunk elf merchant once on a mission once where he stumbled into where I was settin' up ta blow a bridge! This guy was juiced to the tips o' his ears, and there be a bunch of frogs hoppin' 'round under the bridge, and I ..."

Gorkil continues off with yet another highly improbable story of cramming an explosive inside a frog, shoving it down the elf's throat and then sending him running and screaming toward an oncoming troop of elves right in time for the explosion to go off, killing the whole troop.

Obviously, this goblin could win the entire war with his explosives! At least if his stories are to be believed.

[Bobbybobby99]

Fionus consciously darted out of the door with his gun in hand, looking too and fro rapidly. Satisfied with the lack of obvious enemies, he swirled his cloak and sheathed his gun in a smooth motion, and thus proceeded, eyes rapidly darting back and forth. He was very, very much tempted to deafen himself to avoid hearing yet another one of his comrades tall tales, but he refrained.
"I'd prefer to wait a day to recharge after casting the requisite spells, but I suppose we lack the time. More time waiting means more time for assassins to creep into our rooms and slit our throats with dragon envenemoned daggers blunted to inflict heightened pain. Then they would open our eyes, so that we were just barely awake as we slipped into the cold embrace of death. Oh well; I can live without third level spells, and we likely won't reach there before I can replenish them. Or I could die a painful death from their lack thereof. Who knows."

[Nettlekid]

Corvid remains silent. His previous attempt to steal center stage hadn't had his expected reaction, and these developments to the plan seemed...doubtful, at best, but he planned to keep his thoughts to himself. A more ambitious undertaking comes with a larger chance of failure, and he didn't like the odds as they stood. Perhaps he had been a bit too quick to trust the Goblins in his fear of the Elves.

He has nothing he needs to requisition, though he's sure not picking up something now will bite him later on.

[Born]

Impactful, yet dangerous. This mission was turning out to be much bigger than Saruzn had expected. Getting out in time would be just as important as getting in. Saruzn did not like suicide missions.

"Approximately how much time after the process is in motion do we have to escape to avoid being vaporized by the magical discharge? Can the rate of energy flow into the core be set to whatever rate is necessary for our escape, or must it all be forced in as quickly as possible?" Saruzn wasn't even sure he was asking the right people (person really, since the one here who seemed to know the most about the Ironwood trees was Dmitri), but he wasn't about to go into this without getting any information he possibly could that could keep him from turning to a fine ash.

[Dorni]

"Depends." Spook's clinical tone announced his presence behind Saruzn as the teams filed out of the room. "To your first question, the Tree's containment core is even larger than the ones at the Great Academy of the Arcane Arts. The elves won't leave it near empty in the middle of an operation, but no telling exactly how much energy they'll have already. In any case, you'll want to feed it energy as fast as possible so that when the core ruptures it does it big. I'd expect between 2 and 8 minutes to get the core past the point where the elves could stop it. Less than a minute after that for it to go up."

Spook's explanation carried the group to Requisitions, which turned out to be a cluster of warehouses brimming with activity. An attendant recognizes the Special Forces group and darts away, returning moments later with a load of bundles. Apparently the CO radio'ed your needs ahead; among the bags is a packet of Diamond Dust.

The bags contain a collection of supplies that I treat as an "adventurer's kit". Essentially the packs contain any non-magical gear you may need such as rope or rations. Much like a spell component pouch, you aren't required to keep exact track of this gear. As a rule of thumb, if it costs 5g or less you can assume that its in your pack. There is also a single Wand of Lesser Vigor and a Radio to be shared among the party. You may also take this opportunity to fill up on as much ammunition as you wish.

[Anomander]

Explosions are serious to Gorkil, and he pauses his stories as Spook begins speaking, carefully noting the time estimates. "So if'n the magic storage be at peak storage, or even overcharged, a sudden destruction of the storage matrix should release a greater explosion than if the energy matrix only held an operatin' level of charge. Double the explosive damage with properly timed explosives. Makes sense. Let's see ..."

Gorkil begins muttering to himself, only the occasional word comprehensible. "... magi-ergs output with explosive discharge .... explosive magiphys conversion rate ..." Gorkil scratches his groin absently as he thinks - the carefully considerate expression and larger words at odds with his typical look.

His thoughts are interrupted at the quartermaster's unceremonious deposit of his bag at his feet. "Oooo! Wonder whats we've gots in 'ere," he says as he pulls it open and begins pulling the contents apart. After a minute he doesn't seem to find anything interesting and begins haphazardly stuffing things back in.

"Anyway, as long as we can get the thing overloading when we blow it ta bits, we'll get a hell'uva bang. Depending on storage capacity, we'll probably want to be at least a couple hundred feet away when it blows to avoid the direct blast damage. Magical release will be extensive, but it doesn't all convert into physical explosive. We'll want to be quite a bit further away to avoid magical effects, though."

He points to his ear. "Got that when I was too close to a wagon of potions I blew up." It is as thoroughly mangled as his other ear, but a closer glance shows it might be ... slightly furry under all the scar tissue?

"I've got timers on me' bombs, though. We'll just want ta' start moving out as soon as we start settin' it to blow. Five minutes'll be plenty to get to a safe range.

"Of course we could get some freak accident like when ..."

And with that he's back to telling another story.

[NuclearCommando]

Artem stepped closer to Gorkil, not minding his constant rambling since it was directed at absolutely no one, being more focused on the supplies given. Glancing over at the materials in the bag, instinctively, he was disappointed to be reminded of his current state, before crouching to get a feel for the bag's components for himself, as he continued to pick up the conversation that Spook and Saruzn were having. He was a complete pariah to magic, but knowing what the hell he was getting himself into was likely a smart idea, since he'd wanna help in whatever ways he could. And he did have a bare bones education, so it wasn't like he was gonna be completely useless at that part of the mission.

Once he'd gotten a satisfactory feel for the equipment they'd been handed, he got back up and quipped, "Alright, now we gotta go get that diamond dust from the requisitions. CO probably radio'd ahead, so y'all magickers should get your items as soon as we get there."


Yeah, alright, not gonna lie, I nearly forgot that Artem was blind, but yeah, I'm assuming that diamond dust doesn't really have a smell, so Artem has no clue that we already have it, since it hasn't been mentioned.

[Bobbybobby99]

Fionus spoke "Already have it, thank hell. I'll wait to cast it until we actually leave, since it only lasts perhaps one third and I can't afford to give it extra juice. Let's go before we our throats get slit; that one fellow in the corner looks like he could theoretically have a knife, which he could use to systematically slice at our intestines."

[NuclearCommando]

After hearing Fionus's words, Artem paused for a moment. For a few seconds, he wondered why he hadn't noticed that, before he remembered that minerals didn't quite have smells, most of the time. Then he proceeded to agree with Fionus, speaking with a slightly grumpier tone than before "Ain't quite paranoid about this place, but ye, we don't 'ave all the time in the world. Scrambling right about now would be quite nice, unless any o' us got something to do? 'Cause we got elves to kill and a motherland to fight for."

[Born]

"I am prepared for our journey. There is little point in remaining at camp much longer. As much as I would like to learn more about the magic flow in these Ironwood trees before leaving, I suspect finding a true expert on their workings will require abduction." Saruzn could not help but indulge in the thought of slowly torturing an elven prisoner to divulge the secrets of the ironwood trees. The unnerving chill of Saruzn's shadow servant could do a lot to break a prisoner's spirit. Saruzn would have to depend on one of his companions for a threatening presence (something he had long since noted Corvid was surprisingly accomplished at), but the process could yield information in a most satisfying way. "Let us be on our way."

[Anomander]

Gorkil nods, finishing his story of blasting his way into a place where the elves had been keeping an entire harem of young goblin women.

"Yup, ready to go too! I'll need to pack me warg's saddle, but then I'll leave y'all and yer bears in the dust."

[Dorni]

The two groups broke apart to carry out their respective missions after that, although not before Spetz demanded Gorkil drink with him after the mission. They'd trade stories of elves, explosions, and elves exploding. Perhaps he'd even cure the goblin of preference for Worgs.

A calvary squad was prepared and waiting at the stable. The Sergeant hadn't liked waiting for them any more than she'd liked not being told the destination, but she greeted them with the exact amount of respect required towards the Special Forces. She immediately started getting everyone settled for the trip with experienced efficiency. Satisfied, she raised a fist and the squad fell into line and with a shout the squad thundered out of the base.

It wasn't until they were a mile south of the city that she slowed the pace and drifted alongside the Special Forces. "Alright big shots, my orders are to get you where you need to be and get you home again when you're done. Those orders didn't include a description of where exactly that is." Her professional disinterest tried to mask her annoyance. Tried, and failed. "So now that we're in transit, I'm asking."

Your escort consists of 6 worg riders. If you have at least +5 in riding you have the option of being supplied with your own worg. Anyone who has their own means of transportation, such as Gorkil, may use that instead.

Artem, due to size and blindness, will need to ride in a modified sled being pulled by another worg. It is long enough for 3 medium creatures to sit, although not comfortably. The craft is nimble for its size and can be pulled only slighter slower than a worg's normal movement speed thanks to the alchemical grease coating the runners. Anyone not riding their own worg or using a spell may freely ride in the sled as well.

Once travel arrangements are set a scout will be sent ahead. If you want to ride ahead and help scout I'll need a Perception and Stealth roll for you and your mount.

[Anomander]

"Aye? I thought you knew where we were going! I was just followin' yer delightful lead."

Gorkil's grin suggests that he is completely oblivious to their destination and doesn't care. That, or he's tweaking their sergeant's nose.

He twists on the ugly warg's back, glancing at the others, his face shifting to a look of utter confusion.

"So where we be headin'? Killin' elves and blowin' stuff up, right? Some city or something I think."

His look of befuddlement is so complete that it couldn't possibly be genuine. Right?

[Nettlekid]

"We're aiming for the ruins of Kharkov. The former city park," Corvid finally explains. "Our mission is to infiltrate and render inoperational the Treant repair facility. With their juggernaut weapon disabled, the Elves will lose a critical tactical advantage. If they devote resources to repairing the facility then we have the upper hand with a future invasion. Now this is primarily a stealth operation. We'd appreciate your aid in reaching the edge of the ruins, but from that point on we'll break off and take point on our own. Keep well clear of the outer limits of the ruins, and do not be seen. If all goes well you'll see an explosion, and that will be your cue to return for our extraction."


Bluff check about our mission: [roll0], hopefully with some kind of circumstance bonus for that being our actual mission until like five minutes before the end of the meeting. Not that I don't trust the Sergeant, but you never know who's listening or who might capture and interrogate a hapless Sergeant for information. Getting us to the edge of the ruins should suffice for our real mission, and telling her to keep clear and out of sight should make sure she stays safe if we do manage to blow up the whole Ironwood tree.

EDIT: Ideally, if anyone IS spying on us, they'll bulk up defenses in the Treant Repair Facility itself but then that means fewer troops guarding locations like the Ironwood tree and just around the ruins in general.

[Bobbybobby99]

Fionus paused, and approved of the use caution. He spoke himself "Say, how long do you think we'll be until we reach our target destination, given those factors?"

[Dorni]

Concerned glances, quickly squashed, darted around the squad. The Worgs just kept running, unconcerned. The sergant only snorted, either disappointed or relieved. Probably both. "Kharkov? We can make that run in near 10 hours. Dodging patrols will slow us. Territory around here is safe and we'll make good time. We'll have to be more careful as we get closer. Should be 15, longer if the patrols are too thick to leave gaps. Unless you fellas got anything to help hide us?"

Roll that certainly means nothing: [roll0]

[Born]

Saruzn rode quietly along, only briefly speaking up to answer the Sergeant's question. "My shadowy companion can give us a field of shadows within an area otherwise lit, but such a sight is obvious to observers. It's more useful for concealing oneself while moving to cover or gaining an advantage over elves due to their lack of true darkvision."

[NuclearCommando]

Artem didn't quite speak up to respond to the cavalry sergeant, being in an understandably annoyed mood, what with being stuck in a sled when he'd rather be riding. Being treated like this was necessary, but he'd rather be smashing full speed into a tree or off a cliff than put up with being in such an uncomfortable position. "Ten to fifteen hours? Well, ain't that fun news." he remarked, before returning to his annoyed silence.

Then he gave it some thought, and said "Watch for the lights, once we're there.", not giving any more information than that, and closing himself to any inquiries.

[Bobbybobby99]

Fionus shifted uncomfortably on his Worg, gripping tightly into the fur. He was competent in the action, but the possibility of the beast spontaneously deciding to rip his head off, fling him off, or stomp on him never left his mind. He frowned, and replied.
"I was hoping for it to be a tad closer than that, but oh well. As far as stealth goes, I possess the ability to cast Invisibility and Darkness, should they be needed. I can also use Nondetection, which mostly shields us from divination, but I can only cast it on us five given my requisitions, and it'll only last some eight hours. Can you work with that?"

[Anomander]

Gorkil looks around at the others chiming in to help. He didn't often work with larger groups, and it was an ... odd feeling to be working together with them. Wasn't sure he liked it, though it was giving him a chance to blow the hell out of some really big stuff, so it seemed to have its advantages.

"Well, I don't have much of anything to help the group hide."

He wiggles a finger in his ear and absently views the clump of wax that comes out as he thinks.

"Um, I could make a distraction, I guess. Set off a few explosive a half klik away, and the elves should pay attention to that. Might be makin' it easier to sneak past a patrol. Could probably blow a bridge, rail, or road just to make it seem a bit more serious to 'em. We crossin' any rails? I could probably put a contact fuse in place that'd make a pretty mess when something goes rolling along!"

The thought perks him up.