Exalted 3e - Welcome to Thorns (IC)

[Inspector Valin]

But it is not enough. Shard after shard slip through Lacroix's guard, until the ghostly dualist stops his theatrics. He's been forced down to one knee by the onslaught, his sword hanging limp at his side, strange ethereal fluids leaking from his form. Ghosts are beings of deathly, still essence - but their form is as vulnerable to disruption as that of any human. The commander glares upward at the strange vulture that'd unleashed this sorcerous onslaught upon him, then once more around the field where his troops lie devastated. Never let it be said that Dorian Lacroix lacked the ability to read the room.

He fixes Dancer with a final smile, just as the fire aspect readies her blades to charge at a weakened opponent. "Afraid I'll have to take a rain check on this fight." And with those words, the smug looking ghost begins to fade away, growing more translucent by the second. As if to rub salt in the wound, he spares his adversary a wave and a hearty laugh. "See you soon, firebird. Don't get comfortable." A faint ethereal chuckle sounds in Dancer's ear a second later. "You're not leaving this isle alive."

Spoiler

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Lecroix loses the clash by 4, taking 3 damage from that and 1 from it being a clash. And now he's using his action to dematerialize. I don't think anyone in the party has the ability to see a dematerialized foe reflexively so unless I'm wrong on that, he's withdrawing from the battle.

"Commander?!" one of the Thornguard cries out. The proud knights of the Mask are looking a lot more battered now. Whisper's spell had scythed through their ranks - half of them now lie still, draped hither and yong across the metal walkways. The remaining guardsmen strugle to their feet, eyeing one another, taking stock of how many of their number are still in this fight.

It's said that the Thornguard are never afraid to die. But even they dislike the concept of dying for nothing.

Spoiler: OOC

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And the Thornguard do not do well. I had misremembered their defense - they're at a base of 6 evasion thanks to their drill, but -2 from the spell and -2 from surprise - yeah, they got hit with 10 degrees of success, 16 dice of damage rolled. 5 damage dealt... as well as 4 extra per usual instructions on resolving decisive damage against a battlegroup.

Which brings the Thornguard down into Size 1, and forces a rout check. Provoked by Death of Obsidian Butterflies, lost their commander - they need 3sux to hold.

[rollv]5d10[/rolv]

[Inspector Valin]

Thornguard

And with a second's pause, they crumble.

The warriors break, scrambling backwards towards the outer ring of the walkway, and the doors leading into the tower's upper reaches - those areas the Mask's forces had constructed for themselves. Before Dancer and Granny can give chase however, they are stopped short by two familiar figures with blades raised. The only members of their company not to crumble under pressure.

The man with the brown ponytail sighs, glancing between the massive boar and the still burning Dancer. It's evident from his long face that he doesn't care for his chances. Still, he shifts to a defensive stance, giving his colleague a brief glance. "Dying to cover a withdrawal. Not what I'd have chosen, but then what can you do, right?" The blond haired woman snorts at this idea, shaking her head before turning to the Dragon Blood. "Eh. Don't really care about the others. But I've got a score to settle with you, Smoking! I owe you for killing Cas before I could!" Her words aside however, she seems more... excited than anything. Eager. There's a twinkle in her blue eyes, and a near breathless energy to her laugh, "Giving a Dragon Blood the time of her life. That's just how I wanted to go!"

Spoiler

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The Thornguard as a unit break now. Technically they should disperse at their i count, but there's no one on the field to rally them, so I'm bringing it forward to now. However, I'm rolling these two in as individual characters! If you want to target the fleeing Thornguard, you'll have to get past them first.

(10d10)[6][4][8][6][3][2][8][3][1][6](47) Cassie
(10d10)[7][2][7][2][7][5][10][7][10][3](60) Clay

[Inspector Valin]

Clay
The Thornguard sighs at his comrade's manner. Cassie always had that tendency to get worked up: really, what an embarrassment for their last battle. Ignoring her for now, the guardsman pushes forward against the hefty hellboar, trying to find some angle for his sword those ferocious tusks couldn't deflect. His eyes meet Grannies as he does so, and she can see a spark of curiosity in the lad. "What are you, anyway? One of those Haltan beasts? A Wyldling from the Forest of Pigs?" He doesn't seem to expect an answer, but asks all the same, as if this fight weren't the slightest concern to him at this point.

Spoiler: OOC

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Withering attack on Granny. And this is at the same count, so we might have yet another clash!

Spoiler: Roll

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(11d10)[8][6][10][10][7][6][2][2][8][2][6](67)Attack
(12d10)[6][3][10][9][7][8][7][1][10][2][6][7](76)Damage (min2)

[Eurus]

I'm your worst nightmare, kid... a pig on the edge with nothing to lose.

Her human instincts see a piece of sharp metal and urge her to be cautious, but her body has other ideas. When the soldier attacks, she charges at him with her full weight. If she's quick enough, she can overwhelm him -- if she's not, she might impale herself on his sword.

Spoiler: OOC

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Withering attack!

Bite dice pool (8) + Stunt (2) + Excellency (5)

Attack: (15d10)[1][4][5][5][2][10][2][10][9][9][7][1][4][9][2](80)
Damage, overwhelming 5: (20d10)[7][4][1][1][3][2][6][1][6][7][6][3][1][3][10][10][3][4][4][7](89)

[Inspector Valin]

Clay
The gambit pays off - the boar's swift lunge takes Clay by surprise, forcing the Thornguard back against a railing with a clang as his armor almost bends the less sturdy steel. The young warrior looks into the boar's eyes with a sigh. He doesn't relish this moment, but he's quite resigned to it.

Marukani
Meanwhile the former prisoner is scything through the zombie horde, the flow of corpses starting to diminish to a trickle. It seems the tower's vaults are close to depleted - most of the dead have already joined the fight. And if this young rider has anything to say on the matter, it will still have been far from enough.

They would have turned all of us into these things... or worse! No forgiveness for the dead!

Spoiler

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Will this still nameless NPC somehow wipe out the zombies before our party can? Decisive Attack!

(10d10)[6][1][8][8][9][5][3][10][6][5](61) Attack
(10d10)[2][9][7][8][4][9][1][1][8][7](56) Damage

[pfm1995]

Marrow of the Root thrashes wildly, kicking at the climbing zombie until its neck snaps backwards - and then a few times more, until it finally loses its grip and falls back off their makeshift platform. He surges back to his feet, tenses, and... nothing. There's no further press, no two more zombies to fill the gap where the first had fallen. Next to him, Stone spears his spatha through the spine of another straggler with a death-grip on his shield, shakes it loose, and together they take stock of their situation.

As best he can figure, unremitting success. The sounds of fighting above him have almost completely died down, both necrocraft monstrosities seem dead - how, he wasn't sure, but the radiating animas he could see both above and below likely had something to do with it. That there were two of them led to more questions, but... later. He could still hear combat down below.

It doesn't take him long to spot her, cleaving her way through the last sputters of the dead with admirable zeal. Gods alone knew where a prisoner had gotten a sword - stolen from one of the dead guards, more than likely, since it didn't look like one of his mens' - but she seemed to know how to use it. Unfortunately, he noted with a frown, she's also overextending. Soon the zombies would be all around her, and it won't matter how good she is with that sword when she can only see in one direction.

"Hey, prisoner-lady!" He yells, his trained voice booming against the iron-shod walls of the tower. "Duck!" He levels Quiet, sighting along the barrel and letting out a long breath. Breath, energy leaving the body, the fire of heart and vein made air... and then by essence made fire again as he feels Quiet warm under his touch. He pulls the trigger and the stock kicks into his shoulder as fire fills the air with a twisting, desperate hunger. It shoots over the woman's head - barely, tendrils reaching fruitlessly down to try and taste her - and splashes against the zombies shambling out of the lower levels. By the time it sputters out, even the stone they stand on is pitted and slagged.

Spoiler: Actions

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Something I didn't notice until I was checking Quiet's rules is that it can only go up a Hunger level once per battle round. Since Marrow spent a WP to bump it up at the beginning of his turn, I don't think it could have gone up another level when he attacked. I'll roll under that assumption, if you think otherwise lemme know.

Using Boughs of Burning Autumn (2m, 1i) to reflexively reload Quiet, then attacking with a 5m excellency

Spoiler: Rolls

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Attack - (20d10)[10][7][8][10][7][7][7][10][4][4][2][3][4][8][1][1][10][10][5][9](127)
Damage - (30d10)[8][4][6][7][3][3][8][7][8][1][4][7][7][1][7][3][7][4][3][1][7][4][3][1][1][4][2][1][3][6](131) (+1 from Quiet)

[Inspector Valin]

The Marukani is used to responding to such calls, rolling to the side right before Marrow's blast engulfs the zombies around her. The quick movement helps Marrow's blast - the zombies press all the closer to her former position, unable to adjust before Quiet's flames engulf the lot of them. Between the corpses on the floor and the slagged patches of ground where some once stood, only a handful of enemy fighters remain, the last battered dregs of the vault's supply judging by how decayed and slow these figures look.

It's almost over. No casualties or injuries too, on their side at least. This has been an impeccable operation.

Spoiler: OOC

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Zombies are reduced to Size 1, and a damaged Size 1 at that. Dancer is up next

[Sticks]

If the Dancer is shaken by the whispered words, she doesn't let it show. Turning to face the Thornguard, she is majestic in her corona of flame, her hair floating in the updrafts caused by her anima, loose from its binding. Autumnal leaves of fire scatter and whirl about her as though caught by a cool breeze. Within the conflagration, she is an island of calm and poise. She raises the blade, points it towards the female Thornguard, and gives her a small smile.

"I am glad to see you so pleased. I am loathe to disappoint, especially with such a simple request."

In an instant she is upon the armored woman, sword darting forward in a thrust, followed by a high-kick, a pivot, and then the blade scythes upwards, seeking to break a guard, sever armor, sear flesh.

Spoiler: OOC & Rolls

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Dancer is making a Withering Attack supplemented by Become the Hammer (4m)
Base (15)+Charm(4)+Stunt(2)

Spoiler: Roll

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Attack: (21d10)[4][4][2][8][6][6][9][2][9][4][9][7][4][9][9][10][4][6][7][8][10](137)
Damage: (15d10)[10][3][6][3][6][8][1][6][1][3][9][5][4][7][1](73)
Re-roll sixes:(5d10)[9][6][2][7][9](33)

[HalfTangible]

Nord's eyes fell from the rafters as the stranger's anima flared. He needn't have worried about her, it seemed. All that was left was to cut down the last of the undead. Nord set his stance, and he glared directly at the last of the undead. Dipping into his powers was not necessary, he was sure. There were so few of the undead left, and the prisoners were already escaping. No need to push himself further and risk showing his hand to these strangers; there were some in Creation who would probably choose staying in prison over being rescued by one of the Forsaken...

... That thought lead to dark places. Best not to dwell there too long.

"Saki." He whispered, before throwing himself forward at the last of the zombies, cutting them down with all the cold fury of Lookshy.

Spoiler

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Valin's given me permission to post my actions before Dancer's turn resolves since we're so close to the end anyway. Just doing a standard melee withering attack.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Dex 3 + Melee 5 + WA 5 + Dual Wielding Specialty 1 + Stunt 2
Attack: (16d10)[3][9][7][5][2][6][2][4][4][7][5][6][6][6][10][7](89)
Strength 4 + WD 10
Damage (min 4): (14d10)[7][2][9][3][5][8][8][8][4][5][10][9][5][5](88)

[Inspector Valin]

The remaining zombies don't last long between Nord's blades and the crushing force of Rivers' anima. One corpse is knocked bodily against the stone wall, bones cracking as it slides downwards, finally immobile. Quick efficient blade strikes claim two more. The combatants at ground level glance over the scene. Even with Quiet's flames removing a good portion of corpses from the field, they're still surrounded by the better part of a hundred fallen cadavers. It's a grisly sight.

But there's no movement. No more zombies, or monsters left standing. They've won through.

The battle on the catwalk doesn't last much longer. Up top, Dancer's blade and flames alike strike swift and true. Cassie tries to keep up, but her foe has two blades to wield and is thrice as fast. The Thornguard laughs as she's forced back, finally falling to the ground with her blade raised as the Dancer's flames lap over her, and blood beings to drip from her side. With a final snort, and a blissful smile, her sword arm clatters downward as her weapon falls to the ground below and she lays eerily still amidst the crackling flames

"Cassie..." Clay murmurs, glancing to his fallen friend before turning back to the Hellboar. With a resigned sigh, the Thornguard drops his sword. There's no point fighting any more.

Silence fills the room for perhaps a count of three. And then there is a deafening cheer, as a hundred and some voices rise in unified joy.

"WHOOOOOO!"

As one, the former prisoners rush from the entryway, straight past the shocked Cureva, towards the fighters who have rescued them against all odds. There's smiles, tears, laughter and joy on every face as the dolorous halls fill with the sound of celebration. Three strong Marukani lads wince through the pressure and chill of his anima to surround Rivers, one slapping them heartily on the back. "Right through the cell! Amazing!" Marrow can see that the Roots are all getting their due attention - hugs, handshakes and tearful thanks from people they got to safety in the midst of chaos. Stone Thrown seems stunned, unable to quite take in just how successful this has been. "We... did it?" He asks Marrow, almost incredulous. He's smiling, but it's the mildly dazed smile of a man who can scarcely believe this is not a dream.

Back towards the doorway, Nord and the girl who'd fought beside him exchange a look while the greatful ex-prisoners run towards them. The Marukani still seems nervous, unsure of just what her rescuer is... but all the same, she smiles and bows her head. "You are Lookshyan. The Marukani have fought beside your people for generations - against the Realm, the Arczeckh and a thousand petty kingdoms. In Celeren, they remember Chumyo Nefvarin Gilshalos, and Lord Whiteblade's fight against Mokku." History given its due, the young warrior winks. "You honour them, Karal Nord. Thank you again." And with that, grateful petitioners surround Nord and the girl withdraws into the crowd, seeking out the villagers that she is charged with protecting and seeing to safety.

In the midst of all this, surrounded by greatful, happy people it's hard to feel like anything other than a hero.

On the catwalk floor, Clay glances down at the celebrations with a frown, the mood perhaps causing some memory to awaken in him. But it doesn't last long, the Thornguard soon turning his eyes back to the hellboar with that same defeated look. "Get it over with."

Spoiler

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Combat over. Everyone regains 5 motes. You have the run of the tower now.

Also I will firm up some backstory here. Rivers, Nord and Marrow - you may or may not have worked together in the past, I'll let the three of you be the judge of that, but you've all made use of the undercity hideaway known as Jochim's Hold. It's probably the hub of resistance in Thorns, such as it is: most of those actively trying to resist the Mask's reign or at least hide from him have congregated there, beneath the city. As well as being a great place to evade attention, it's a prime source for supplies, intelligence on the Mask's movements and backup, and all three of you have needed at least one of those since the occupation began.

You three were brought together by a new arrival to the underground with some promising information. He tipped you off to the shipments Mask's been dispatching to this tower. It's quite a ways out from Thorns, (pfm, Marrow owes the Cureva big time for that rowboat stunt.) and even your new contact doesn't know exactly what's been going on here. However, he was able to assure you that Mask's deployment here was light - in order to minimize attention, there were no Deathknights and a minimal mortal guard force. Which seems to have been correct. As such he tasked the three of you with leading an attack to try and take down Mask's garrison, and liberate the prisoners

Congratulations! It worked. So what now?

[Sticks]

Seeing the gathered trio below, the Dancer leans over the balcony to shout. Her anima is beginning to fade, but the inferno still rages and she cannot join the throng below. Loathe as she is to admit it, this is hardly the time for subtlety.

"You three down there! No names! No sensitive information! I was unable to kill their commander. He is some kind of spirit and is likely present, though immaterial. If he can he will gain information and slip away, or try to assassinate someone. We need to get the prisoners organized and away from here!"

[HalfTangible]

Pride swelled in Nord's chest. "You do your people proud, Marukani. What was your-" He began to ask before petitioners surrounded him and she disappeared into the crowd. He'd never even learned her name. Ah well, she wasn't leaving yet. Hopefully.

He glanced upward again, to the fire dragon. She hadn't been part of the plan, but she was a welcome surprise. He'd have to find her after the group had made it safely back to the city. She'd found out about this raid, somehow, which meant both that she likely wished to help and that there was a leak of information within the resistance. One that would, perhaps, need to be plugged up. They couldn't afford too much in the way of hot surprises (triple pun intended).

Marrow had acquitted himself faultlessly today, as had Rivers. He hadn't worked with either enough to get a real feel for how they would act or how good they'd be in a fight, but he'd been impressed. The battle hadn't last a full minute despite the presence of the necrotech behemoths... dragon-blooded in action, he supposed.

As he banished his weapons Elsewhere, he mused on his actions here today. Victorious Jade had told him of shining heroes like him that would one day return to lead Creation into a new age. She'd been right, after a fashion. Nord came to Thorns so he could do some good and here he was, with petitioners forging forward. True, he was Forsaken now, unable to return home or be with the woman he loved. But Lookshy was still his home, and Saki had once loved him in turn; even if he could no longer be with either, he could still do some good for both of them.

And as the fire dragon called down he suddenly realized how right she was... they were in a terrible position here. Beaten and defeated this place may be, but it remained under the thrall of the Mask. They couldn't stage further action here, sooner or later a deathknight would come to take this place back.

He brought his fingers up to his mouth and gave a loud, LOUD whistle to grab the attention of as many as possible.

"Okay people, we're not out of the woods yet!" He yelled out over the crowd. "This place is secure but only for a while. There's too many of you to bring back over the rowboats with us, but this place still has a ship or two docked. We can take one of them back to shore. Those of you who wish to leave the city, I ask you be patient for a bit longer, we'll get you out in time. To those who wish to stay and/or fight, welcome to the resistance."

[Ascension]

Rivers seems uncomfortable with the sudden attention from the freed prisoners. In one of their other identities, safely masked in another role, they might embrace the spotlight, but they aren't used to facing it without any protective facade.

"Ah... thank you, but look to your own safety... be careful of my anima... listen to the yelling man..."

Rivers fears the yelling man... Karal Nord... may be wrong about one thing, though. Cautiously, mindful of the soaking tide swirling around them, they press through the crowd toward Marrow.

"This facility might not be secured," they whisper-shout up to the schoolyard commander, hoping not to start a panic, but feeling an urgent need to communicate caution.. "Even discounting that ghost the lady was fighting, there's laboratory facilities below and barracks and administrative facilities above. We may not have freed all the prisoners... or subdued all our foes."

Rivers indicates some of the Cuerva with a jerk of their head.

"Can you help with that?"

[Sticks]

Her message received, the Dancer turns to regard the remaining Thornguard and the great boar on the catwalk. She has the distinct feeling this is no mere beast, even if one ignored its...startling display of acrobatic ability.

"Hello...Friend? Um...I'm fairly sure you can understand me. I'm going to back away so I do not burn you, also I believe this one is your kill." She indicates the surrendering Thornguard. "Although, it may prove fruitful to interrogate him first...that is, if you can speak." She gives a smile to indicate her friendliness, but she has the terrible feeling she is attempting to parlay with a creature beyond her abilities. What kind of terrible forces was she aligning herself with?

Looking at the mounds of bodies, scorched floors and rotting abominations below, she chides herself. No matter how terrible her new allies might be, it's unlikely they're worse than their mutual foes.

[Inspector Valin]

Clay
"Heh. Not used to this, are you Dragon?"

For the first time in a little while, Clay is actually smiling after what Dancer said. Rather than addressing the Dragon Blood herself however, he turns his head back towards the boar. Even without speech he can tell it has some intelligence. In his current state, he can't help but feel it will be more receptive to his advice than the fire dancer. "You're... supposed to pretend you won't kill me if I tell you what I know. If I die either way, what's it matter if I don't share anything? You think pain'll make me talk?"

The Thornguard chuckles at that idea, though there's a tired note to his tone as he leans back against the railing. "Pain's like life. Temporary. The Mask'll do worse once I report back if I let a little thing like death get me scared."

[The_Snark]

Realization strikes Whisper all at once as the Fire Aspect addresses the boar - of course! She's a shapeshifter herself, it's pretty silly not to have thought of that. But she's only ever met one other Moon-Touched, and that was a ghost... Of course, she doesn't know this is another Moon-Touched. It could be a spirit, or a magical pig, or... something else. There are lots of strange things out there. But the important thing is, the Dragon-Blood doesn't seem to be sure either, and she's talking to the pig rather than shouting about Anathema, and that means...

The vulture croaks once, to draw attention, and then glides down to the catwalk. As it lands it shifts, feathers unraveling into skin and clothes until a girl stands there: pale-skinned and gangly, with unkempt hair and bare feet. "There are more prisoners below," she says in a thin voice, and then coughs. "We need to see to them before we go."

She picks her way over towards the hellboar and its captive, shying away from the Dragon-Blooded and her aura of flame and wincing as she reaches the part of the catwalk still littered with broken glass. "Um. Hi. Is it OK if I have this one?"

[Eurus]

The pig grunts in acknowledgement of Clay's words. Killing him is, quite frankly, pointless. When the bird-woman lands, shedding her feathery form, Granny looks at her with something like cautious surprise. She knows more about the Moon's chosen than most might expect, considering that she's never met another one; her time studying in the woods with the elementals and lesser gods covered more than just sorcery. But then, few of those entities had entirely positive opinions of the Exalted, so Granny is more than a little cautious around those who are ostensibly her peers. She snuffles and nods, giving the other woman permission to do whatever it is she has in mind, and gives Clay a cold stare.

[The_Snark]

Whisper shuffles closer, gazing curiously at the Thornsguard. "Hi. Do you mind if I ask you some questions? Not about secret stuff, I promise, I heard what you said about the Mask punishing you if you tell on him. I just want to know a little more about you, before. Like what your name is. What her name is." She gestures to the burnt body of the guard's friend, nearby, wrinkling her nose at the smell. "How you came to join the Thornsguard. What it's like, working for the Mask. I'm curious. This place seems awful but you're working here and you don't seem too awful so maybe there's something I don't understand?"

[pfm1995]

Marrow clasps Stone on the shoulder with a wide grin on his face. "Apparently." Then, suddenly, his hand spasms and he groans. Right... almost forgot...

Still there, still twinned with the veins and arteries of his own essence flow, Quiet Autumn Morning still hungers. Greedy, grasping, never sated, the artifact is more than content to feed as directed when there's food to be found - but now the fighting's over, and it still wants more. Grimacing, Marrow gathers himself.

The sensation is like trying to out-run a wildfire, or out-shout the sea. Hunger isn't something you fight, it's something that just... happens. It's inevitable, and the more you fight the more you tire and the more the hunger takes hold of you. Quiet rages desperate in his stomach, in his lungs and limbs, and he bites down on the first bits of panic. I am a tree. he thinks, his mind walking down the mantra's well-trod path. "My roots are deep, my branches broad. When Fire comes, my leaves fall - but my roots remain. I remain." Each phrase was a breath, each breath a heartbeat, and each heartbeat a growing awareness of the essence pathways filling his body. One by one, he cuts them off and Hunger itself begins to starve.

An animal, were Quiet an animal, would've raged even more at this - redoubled its efforts, maybe, or tried some new approach. But Quiet is an artifact - the drive to consume given shape and purpose, nothing more - and it doesn't struggle as its fire dims. It only steals as much as it can, before the end.

Finally, Marrow breaths out, slowly. His legs are shaking, his stomach roiling like he'd just run the race of his life. All around him people are cheering, applauding, and he barely has the sense of presence to sketch out a shaky bow. Next to him Stone waits patiently, concern in his eyes. "I really hate that thing." the broader man says.

Unbidden, Marrow's eyes drift to the scorch-marks on the floor and he swallows a retch. "Yeah, but damn if it isn't useful."

Rivers calls up, and Marrow's together-enough to nod and set things in motion. He elbows Stone in the side. "Grab the men, start herding people towards the exit. Leaf should have the boat well in hand by now." Orders given, he vaults down to where Rivers is standing.

"I split off some men to take one of the boats when all this started, so that should be handled. What do you say that the more robust of us," he gestures at Nord, "go do some adventuring while they get sorted? There's bound to be something worth stealing in here. And, maybe invite the new friends." He says, pointing up.

Spoiler: Rolls

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I'm not sure if raw willpower rolls should include a stunt bonus; I've included one below. Let me know if that was in error. Difficulty should still be at 1 as I rolled no tens on that last Withering attack.

(8d10)[1][9][8][7][5][2][5][7](44)

[Inspector Valin]

Stone snaps sharply to at Marrow's instruction, jumping down to the ground and starting to sort out with the other Roots the best way to safely escort the prisoners back towards the ship. The newly freed men and women amble merrily along, with no great sense of urgency. The threat has passed, at least for them - only one of the Mask's forces had apparently survived, and what's a commander without troops to back him up?

Meanwhile, the Thornguard fallen against the rail looks up almost bewildered by Whisper's arrival. He turns his head while looking at her, as if she were some trick of the light, before finally nodding. "You're strange. But hey, I can't complain. Nice for someone to take an interest."

He tries to force a smile for her before beginning, "I'm Clay. Clay Coventura. She's Cassenia Floros." He glances to her for a second, as if expecting a witty comeback before remembering what'd happened to her. With a faint sigh, he looks back up at Whisper again. Strangely, Clay doesn't seem sad about his friend's loss. More... just regretful she's not here to join in the conversation. He waves a hand around the area, indicating the rest of his fallen group. "We joined the Thornguard together - it was a way out of Legacy and a way to stop being hungry. We struck lucky too - we were in the first cadet squadron trained by the Maiden of the Mirthless Smile rather than the old knight, Crumbling Pillar."

Clay grins at this, proud of the distinction and of his training, despite what it led to. His previous indifference and resignation fades a little as he remembers his time with the Maiden. "She's one of the best warriors to ever call Thorns home - quick witted, funny, and as driven to win as they come. You can see why the Mask gave her his Exaltation. With the Maiden guiding our drills, it felt like we were on the battlefield everyday. Adapt, strike hard and fast whatever the target or fall by the wayside. It was amazing, and made great warriors of us. I might not be a Dragon Blood, but I'm the equal of any mortal blade I've ever met. And when we all come together, there's no force like us in Creation! "

It's easier to look back than forward sometimes. Clay closes his eyes, smiling fondly at the memory of his graduation. The cold steel of the rail he's lying against however doesn't afford him the luxury of forgetting for long. Opening his eyes, he waves a hand down across the cell block. "And this place isn't that bad. It's kinda out of the way, sure, but we get supply drops and furloughs every so often. There's worse jobs: the Shackle Maw, undercity detail, embassy work..."

Spoiler: Socialize Result

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Yeah, you're picking up a magically induced Derangement in Clay - [Life Doesn't Matter - Major]. That's not just a matter of personal belief and ethics, or his own insurance policy of ghostly revival - he's not reacting to the death of his best friend or his comrades at all, while still being able to consciously process it. He doesn't even realize the need to defend himself from what was done here. From what he said, it's likely an intentional part of his Thornguard training - Whisper can assume pretty safely that they're all suffering from a similar derangement. It ensures they're not going to care about orders with a high civilian body count, and is an easy hook for Mask to build upon for further indoctrination. The twinkle in Clay's eyes when describing how his training meant striking down any target gave away a minor Principle [The art of the kill is thrilling and enjoyable].

[The_Snark]

"Not that bad? But it smells of blood all the time - not even fresh blood, it's all old and rotten - and everyone is scared and miserable and... oh. Oh, I see." Whisper stands on tiptoe to peer at him more closely. "That's interesting. They took part of you away, I think? Yes. I can see how that would make being here easier. It would make a lot of things about Thorns easier. Oh, that explains so much."

She nods to herself, satisfied at having solved that puzzle. Then her eyes widen. "Oh, manners! I'm sorry, I should introduce myself. Hello, Clay. My name's Lost Whisper, and it's very nice to met you." She performs a slightly wobbly curtsy. "I really appreciate you talking to me. You see, my older brother joined the Thornguard - maybe you've met him - and I was wondering why, because, well, nobody in Thorns seems to like them much? Everyone's scared of the Mask's people, or hates them, or both. I know my parents don't like it; they're sort of grateful too, because having a son in the Thornguard keeps them fed and safe - well, safe-ish - but that doesn't stop them being afraid. And of course all their neighbors hate them a bit now, because of him... anyway. I wanted to ask him about it, but I couldn't figure out how to talk to him safely. So thank you!"

The girl beams at him, and pulls a knife from her belt. It's small, and looks better-suited to cutting meat than battle... but clearly kept sharp, nonetheless. "Would you mind lying down so I can reach your neck? You're kind of taller than me. I promise I'll do my best to make this quick, but it'll be my first time cutting someone's throat, so I might mess it up - I'm really sorry about that."

[Inspector Valin]

*sigh* "Fair enough."

Clay lays down on the catwalk, seemingly unruffled by anything Lost Whisper said. The Thornguard glances to his side, before withdrawing an ornate looking knife from his belt - one with an onyx gem in the pommel, and a hilt that echoes the sharp lines of his armor design. Clay smiles up at Whisper. "Here. The Maiden gave us all one when we were inducted into the Guard. You earned it."

[Eurus]

Granny watches and listens, and much like Whisper, she finds the conversation... enlightening.

She's never taken a human life before, but the prospect doesn't bother her as much as she thought it might. Nature is no stranger to mortality; she's hunted beasts for food and furs, and shattered a few lesser undead when stealing supplies. Seeing humanity as fundamentally different from the rest of Creation's beings is a form of hubris, and she's outgrown that. And yet, she still hates killing for one simple reason.

With a flicker, like moonlight and shadow filtered through waving tree branches, Granny changes. The orange-red boar becomes an old woman with wild orange-red hair, dressed in a heavily patched dress stained gray with dust and ashes. She looks down at the prone Thornguard and sighs.

"Every mortal death, no matter how deserved, is another victory for the Mask. As long as we have this one, maybe we can try and figure out if there's a way to bring him to his senses."

It might be a long shot, but she's a healer; that which is broken can be mended, if you have the knowledge and the resources. For now, she stands over Clay and her eyes bloom with light, casting multicolored ripples on the ground.

"You just calm down and keep out of trouble, will you?"

Spoiler: OOC

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Granny will attempt to use Peacock Shadow Eyes on Clay to put him in a trance.

[Inspector Valin]

Despite some suspicion that the boar was sentient, the transformation still manages to elicit wide eyes from Clay. The Thornguard meets Granny's gaze reflexively, not even considering the possibility of enchantment. Those same many coloured lights are cast back at her in the shine of his eyes before the blue is burned away, leaving only white. The old Lunar's instruction to stay out of trouble is met with a simple nod. Unless Whisper or Dancer restrain him, Clay rises to his feet and walks over to stand beside his fallen friend, his back to the group.

[HalfTangible]

Marrow clasps Stone on the shoulder with a wide grin on his face. "Apparently." Then, suddenly, his hand spasms and he groans. Right... almost forgot...

Still there, still twinned with the veins and arteries of his own essence flow, Quiet Autumn Morning still hungers. Greedy, grasping, never sated, the artifact is more than content to feed as directed when there's food to be found - but now the fighting's over, and it still wants more. Grimacing, Marrow gathers himself.

The sensation is like trying to out-run a wildfire, or out-shout the sea. Hunger isn't something you fight, it's something that just... happens. It's inevitable, and the more you fight the more you tire and the more the hunger takes hold of you. Quiet rages desperate in his stomach, in his lungs and limbs, and he bites down on the first bits of panic. I am a tree. he thinks, his mind walking down the mantra's well-trod path. "My roots are deep, my branches broad. When Fire comes, my leaves fall - but my roots remain. I remain." Each phrase was a breath, each breath a heartbeat, and each heartbeat a growing awareness of the essence pathways filling his body. One by one, he cuts them off and Hunger itself begins to starve.

An animal, were Quiet an animal, would've raged even more at this - redoubled its efforts, maybe, or tried some new approach. But Quiet is an artifact - the drive to consume given shape and purpose, nothing more - and it doesn't struggle as its fire dims. It only steals as much as it can, before the end.

Finally, Marrow breaths out, slowly. His legs are shaking, his stomach roiling like he'd just run the race of his life. All around him people are cheering, applauding, and he barely has the sense of presence to sketch out a shaky bow. Next to him Stone waits patiently, concern in his eyes. "I really hate that thing." the broader man says.

Unbidden, Marrow's eyes drift to the scorch-marks on the floor and he swallows a retch. "Yeah, but damn if it isn't useful."

Rivers calls up, and Marrow's together-enough to nod and set things in motion. He elbows Stone in the side. "Grab the men, start herding people towards the exit. Leaf should have the boat well in hand by now." Orders given, he vaults down to where Rivers is standing.

"I split off some men to take one of the boats when all this started, so that should be handled. What do you say that the more robust of us," he gestures at Nord, "go do some adventuring while they get sorted? There's bound to be something worth stealing in here. And, maybe invite the new friends." He says, pointing up.

Spoiler: Rolls

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I'm not sure if raw willpower rolls should include a stunt bonus; I've included one below. Let me know if that was in error. Difficulty should still be at 1 as I rolled no tens on that last Withering attack.

[roll0]

Nord nodded. The Cuerva would do well enough at protecting the group, at least for the moment. "We shouldn't stay too long, but a quick once-over couldn't hurt." Nord figured that someone other than him should probably look the place over. For all his skill in battle, he was a terrible investigator. Saki had been the smart, observant one.

"OI!" Nord yelled, calling up towards the three strangers in the rafters. "You ladies coming along? We got room on the ship, probably!"

[Sticks]

The Dancer's eyes go wide. She half-expected the Boar's transformation, but now another shapeshifter? And now persuading the Thornguard...

"Are you sure that's wise? We just killed his comrades, and now letting him live, even for a while..." She trails off. If half the tales of the Anathema are true, it isn't a good idea to provoke them. Her flames are going out, she demonstrated the limits of her fighting ability tonight, and she is alone...that's why she's here, isn't it?

"Anyway, if you're with the resistance, we should gather what information we can here, troop distributions, requests for supplies, even minor signed orders can tell us something about the Mask's infrastructure and how to disable it." She gestures back at the burning office behind her. "That one had nothing of merit, a pencil-pushing bully without talent, and his superiors knew it. Any intel worth taking will be elsewhere."

[The_Snark]

"He won't thank you for trying," Whisper predicts. "He's happy now, more or less, and he won't be if you put back what they took. But I guess that's not really the point, is it."

Secretly, she's as much relieved as disappointed: eating hearts is a messy business. Bad enough when it's just an animal she's trying to dig into, but when it's a person... She's never done that before. Turning into something that eats carrion usually helps, but she's not sure how much it would matter here.

"I can still keep the knife, right?" she asks. It's much prettier than her old one. "He won't need it if we're taking him prisoner."

[Ascension]

Rivers eyes widen as first the vulture, then the boar, on the catwalks reveal themselves to be shapeshifters. Rivers is no Immaculate zealot, despite the best efforts of their father and some of the instructors at Pasiap's Stair, but they're still slightly taken aback. There are those in the resistance who might take badly to the idea of working with open Anathema, and the power they offer must be balanced against that social and organizational cost. Still, that's necessarily a concern for later; this is neither the time nor place to spark conflict with allies, whatever the nature of those allies might be.

Rivers simply grins at Marrow's suggestion instead.

"'Something worth stealing,' you say?" They clap an affirming hand on the young Dragon's shoulder. "Sounds like they're teaching you kids something right at the Petricorum. We'll make a quartermaster out of you yet."

Rivers cups a hand to their mouth and shouts up to the catwalk.

"You lot check the upper floors, and we'll check below?" they suggest. Putting the suggestion into practice, they head for the stairs to the basement.

"Hope these are sturdy enough to endure a little anima flux," they mutter.

Spoiler: OOC

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Do you want me to roll anything to check out the basement (and/or survive the sudden collapse of its stairs), Valin?

[Eurus]

Granny snorts at Whisper's comment, and the sound is still a little bit piggy. Takes a bit of time to wear off.

"Considering what he's guilty of, I don't much care if it makes him happy or not. I need to know if the poison the Mask pours into their heads can be cured, and that means I need this kid alive. Sorry to get in your way, though."

She takes a moment to admire the knife. It is a nice knife.

"Go for it, dear. Might as well get something out of this mess, right? Looks like it'll barter for at least a few pounds of flour."

[HalfTangible]

"I'll take that as a yes..." Nord sighed to himself before moving off towards the basement. Keeping his eyes open and his ears sharp, he moved down into the basement as quietly as he could manage without slowing down. If anyone was in the lower sections of this facility they were probably already aware of a problem upstairs, but they did not necessarily know where the group was going next.

Spoiler

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Perception+Awareness

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(5d10)[10][5][9][1][4](29)

Dexterity+Stealth: To keep hidden from any potential enemies in the basement

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(6d10)[9][3][8][1][1][4](26)