Inside 67: Shadow over Innside

[UncleWolf]

Golden Flock Orphanage

"...this sort of death magic. Does it have a limit as to how much it can drain? Like a fuel tank. Or water being used to extinguish a fire." Mo asks, frowning at the boy, the man, all the other children, and the two Intersection officers. Despite not being living, she could still feel the slight tug of the death magic pulling at her. She had a ton to spare at least, but if there was no other option she wasn't going to like the thought.

[Chaotic Bob]

Spoiler: Industrial Spoils

Show

[Industrial Park]

There she is.

With... friends?

A bit shakily (though she manages to land without face-planting this time) Morning Glory alights near the edge of the pit. She's a pretty unassuming looking equestrian with an earthy brown coat, a rust red mane, and the image of a little white trumpet shaped flower surrounded by a yellow glow emblazoned on her haunches.

She glances between Down and the other two people.

"They're clean, in case you were wondering," Morning says, wrinkling her nose at the malodorous miasma clinging to Jaahlyn. "Figuratively speaking. The big one is dead. Or at least I'm about ninety nine percent sure it is. Nothing survives getting cast into the Dreamheart."

Then Morning Glory turns her attention toward the hole in the ground!

"What's our situation here?"

[Industrial Park]

Okay, so they had the same purpose of being here then. Perhaps Jaahlyn could be a bit more open then. Muun might blab why they were here either way so it might be pointless being deceptive.
Around this time some of the rats return back with their report of the structure through some short range telepathic bond they must have. "Allow me, there is a entrance to the basement section where the creatures you are looking for are located. They have set up a barrier of flesh near the sewer entrance into it and are performing a ritual there as we speak. It might be safer through through the basement entrance than here." Though since these two could fly, perhaps not. "I will try to aid you any path you take, however. We share the same goal." She makes a quick bow and is ready to move out, letting the pegasi take charge for now. They certainly seemed better prepared for this.

[Industrial Park]
"Sure, we'll come with you," Muun says. The reason he yelled was because people tend to underestimate you if you react foolishly when caught.

Spoiler: Docks Spoils

Show

[Docks]

Geneva doesn't slow down.

Not even for a heartbeat.

She goes rocketing away from the docks and out over the ocean, pressing for as much speed as she can muster. She could go faster in her other form, but then she wouldn't have any way to manipulate the... bomb? She's pretty sure it's a bomb. She'll continue her flight until the orb shows any sign of change. Once it does she's going to hammer-toss the thing as far out to see as she can manage before taking off in the opposite direction.

Hopefully there aren't any boats near where the orb lands.

That would be terrible.

[The Docks]

Anika was standing in cover, not out in the open!

Cover near a carriage filled with goblin-class bombs, but still!

Either way, the little pink creature (what was that anyway?) approaching with some magic projectile was not something she had planned.
So it looked like she had to hasten her plans. "Throw the carriage." She remarks while pointing at the the center of the grey zone. Ideally, they would have time to unload the bombs and throw them but it looked like some truly super-human feat were required here.
Of course, if anyone had better ideas where to throw the bombs they could speak up, or preferably just throw the bombs there as there hardly was time to argue right now.
Anika has already shapeshifted back into a bear and is getting away from the mew and the projectile.

[The Docks]

Calm Reed grimly surveys what was almost certainly some sorcerous attack directed their way, but stopped for now. She nods to Anika.

"If we all lift, we should be able to manage it. Let's hurry."

She'll take up a space beside the carriage and get ready.

[The Docks]

Quin takes up position with Calm and gets ready to lift and throw the cart. His physical strength might be quite large, but it might not be enough by himself, depending on how big the cart is and how heavy it might be.

The Docks - Magic Angel Meets Bullet Hell?

The sounds of a confirmed hit and notable damage are all the encourage Blanche needs to continue laying down suppressing bursts one the angel's wounded form, focused as much on forcing the divinely-styled abomination to focus on her and stay unaware of the explosives headed its way as she is on taking the son of a bitch down. She'll aim a series of four three-round bursts where she best guesses the head and torso are behind those wings before being forced to reload.

Spoiler: Orphanage Spoils

Show

[Golden Flock Orphanage]

Ithuriel takes a moment to glance at the man, "Don't insult us. You're not here to save anyone. If any of us get out of her alive, you're going straight behind bars."

She doesn't have time to focus on him though. She has to focus on not dying.

Ithuriel keeps steadily walking towards the boy, trying really hard not to show how heavy each footstep is, how tired she feels, how she can feel the pull to just give in to the cold embrace of death. As she walks, she starts loosening the straps on her body armour, shrugging the covering off her wings and freeing up as much space through it as she can. She'd rather not destroy the whole set of riot gear if she can avoid it.

Back on the comms go. "Alright Red, I hope you're nearly here. Mo, I'm about to do something real stupid. There's a bunch of kids in here that need to be got out of this room as quickly as possible. I need the two of you to get them out quickly. Not far, just out of this room. And if you can grab the guy as well, all the better. You're...probably not going to have much time."

Back to the kid. If she's going to have any chance of surviving this, she really needs him to listen, and hopefully stay calm. Ithuriel doesn't particularly rate her odds. Got to put a brave face on it though. Time to do the echo-y angel voice again. "I understand. Whatever's been done to you, it's not something you can let go of yourself. I'm sorry, child. I fear it took us too long to get to you. Don't worry, we'll get your friends to safety." On forwards she goes, every step like walking headfirst into a hurricane, every bit of difficulty hidden behind her calming voice and her glowing aura. "I need you to focus on me. Focus on that power, focus on controlling it. I know you can do this. And I trust you. I trust you not to kill me."

How much does she trust him? Enough to take those last few steps forward to envelope him in her aura - a bubble to contain the runaway divinity and hopefully buy Mo and Red enough time to get the children out. But they'd best be quick. All that divine energy is going to be focused solely on Ithuriel now.

[Golden Flock Orphanage]

"More than nearly, darling," Red says as the enters the room at a brisk canter. She quickly surveys the situation. There's their bad actor, no doubt. And the rest of the orphans. And...

Ugh.

The power radiating off the child chilling to say the least.

Her eyes fixed on the fellow in the coat, Red lights up her horn with hazel green light. A similar glow surrounds several of the unconscious children and gently lifts them over to her. Without missing a beat she'll canter back out of the room, children in tow. Once she's out in the hall she starts setting down those she's gathered, only for an ear to flick toward the squelching noises.

More trouble, no doubt.

"Lovely," Red huffs. She'll position herself at the door and begin floating kids over to herself, straining the range limit of her telekinesis. She doesn't want to let the kids in the hall out of her sight if she can avoid it.

Helps to keep an eye on Coat Guy, too.

Just in case (more like when) he gets violent.

Golden Flock Orphanage

"...this sort of death magic. Does it have a limit as to how much it can drain? Like a fuel tank. Or water being used to extinguish a fire." Mo asks, frowning at the boy, the man, all the other children, and the two Intersection officers. Despite not being living, she could still feel the slight tug of the death magic pulling at her. She had a ton to spare at least, but if there was no other option she wasn't going to like the thought.

[Industrial Park]

Down gives a small nod as her own backup arrives and lets Jaahlyn's explanation serve as a short situation report. She doesn't really know anything else herself.

Initial thought would be "oh hey, two entrances, time to divide and conquer." Hit them from both directions and press the ensuing advantages.
But that strategy is awful when the enemies are capable of taking the place of one of the groups and ruining everything. You'll never know if you're linking up with your cohorts, or something else.
Well, maybe not so much with Morning Glory's nose here...

Speaking of which! Down raises a hoof to cough, an unusual enough sight given her full-body armor, but is entirely a pointless gesture to distract from a slight posture change that sends a tiny jet of flame from her weaponry towards Morning's tail.
As this is unlikely to result in any particularly monstrous flailing and screeching, she is going to then proceed to act as if nothing interesting at all just happened.

"Right, so our options are questionable pit that used to hold a really big monster, or basement entrance. I-"
Pop.
The air pressure around the pit abruptly shifts, as the whistling of freezing wind begins to rise up in earnest from the pit, alongside a few errant snow flakes.
This is evidently a terrible occurrence, by Down's stiffening and startled glance into the pit.
"No time for safe. Someone's tapping a blizzard. Big one."

Muun has but a moment to react before Down zips around to try to grab hold of his shoulders and carry them both down into the pit. With Jaahlyn and Muun's lack of obvious wings, she figures they'll need the help and asking for permission takes too long. Maybe Morning will grab Jaahlyn.

The intent here is to dive down with the more flightless members of the group, past a couple layers of broken sewage tunnels, into what appears to have been a rather wet portion of cave. "Have been", as a lot of the moisture on the uneven walls has begun to freeze in the very uncomfortable air down here. That cold wind up above is much stronger down here, carrying more than a few snowflakes, and very obviously coming from further down the tunnel.
The cave also extends back in the other direction a bit, but there doesn't seem to be anything immediately interesting that way save underground darkness.
As opposed to the windy direction being very slightly illuminated.

[The Docks]

A grand plan comes together!

Geneva zooms off over the open water, with her orb of rapidly destabilizing energy, presumably flinging it by the time the shore has started to get a bit smaller.
It turns out that this is a wise idea, the throwing thing. Very little time at all passes before the orb erupts into a blinding bright, expanding sphere of roiling pastel colors.
However, going on the assumption that Geneva keeps up her speed during her retreat, that would seem to be quite literally all that happens.

The waves are undisturbed, there is no violent rushing of the winds, or hideous noises. Simply a very bright sphere of colors, which fades away after a few minutes.
And possibly a lone seagull falling limply into the water.

Meanwhile, back on land.

Blanche's gunfire is doing a pretty good job of tearing up the angel's wings and presumably causing damage behind them?
It's difficult to tell when it's doubling down on the wrapping said wings around itself in that dubiously protective manner.

Perhaps most immediately important about this, is that it prevents it from doing anything whatsoever about the group below performing Operation Cart Toss.
So presuming the trio's strength is up to the task of lifting this explosive load that Anika has "acquired", away it goes!
Onwards towards that great plant stalk, onwards towards an even greater explosion.

Unlike the angel, the plant stalk had already been vulnerable to damage. It was simply being protected, whenever it was attacked. Now, with its primary protector distracted...
The explosion tears apart the stalk, along with a good portion of the tavern directly below it, in a fantastically loud cacophony of concussive force, rupturing building, and whatever that hideous noise is the angel just started making.

As the stalk more or less disintegrates below it, the angel and its flower are left in a state of free-fall. It quickly unfurls its rather bloodied wings to try to catch itself, or forestall the inevitable crash, but there's too much girth to move too quickly.
Whatever was left of the tavern is further ruined as the enormous creature falls down straight into it, crying out in panic as it goes. It disappears into the growing plume of rubble-smoke, but it doesn't seem likely to be launching any particular counter-attack after that.

Of additional note, that "grey zone" begins receding back into the tavern a few moments later.

[Golden Flock Orphanage]

The man frowns a bit at Ithuriel's hostility, but doesn't contest it.
Similarly, when Red begins to grab the floating bubbled children, there is only a moment of resistance before he glances over at her, and they are promptly freely moveable.
He watches her move them out of the room, but makes no active commentary or other actions regarding it. The bubbles are going to gently pop outside of the room, but that seems to be more a limit to the spell rather than the man maliciously stripping away their protection.
Shouldn't pose any danger to them as long as Red doesn't drop them in the boiler room.

Outside the room, those unpleasant noises are building up on the other sides of the hallway's doors, but that's all they seem to be doing: sounding really gross. Nothing is breaking down or even opening the doors to charge at Red and the first of the kids she's rescued.
Just squishing and sloshing. Relentlessly.

Back in the room, Ithuriel's idea is met with a horrified look from the boy and a curious eyebrow from the man.
"Trusting a child to hold back a starving beast from its meal...the hunger of death cannot be satiated or barred."
This serves as both a commentary on the angel's plan and a response to Mo's question.
He seems pretty sure this is enormously foolish and destined to get someone killed with nothing to show for it.
Is he right? Good question.

The boy doesn't really seem to be disagreeing, but he's also very clearly desperate and naive enough to try literally anything.
Between Ithuriel more or less swaddling him entirely in her aura and some measure of his frantically-trying attention, enough of the Death permeating the room seems to be receding enough to make it a pretty safe to move the kids a bit faster.
While Red wasn't going to have any problems getting them out, the man responsible for their protective bubbles was clearly straining to keep them up much longer, so the risk of immediately lethal exposure to the air seems less likely for them now.

So this leaves us with an angel-illuminated room that is substantially less lethal, a small stream of children being levitated outside without their bubble shields being necessary anymore, and the man remaining in his while he watches all of this.
This also leaves Ithuriel with the full weight of what had been unpleasant spread across the whole room, rapidly narrowing into scope down onto her person.
Strangely, the more intense it gets, the more a vague sense of comforting peace begins to inject into the energy washing over her.
Let go.

Maybe the overall release of energy is less than it was before. With how concentrated its becoming, Ithuriel would be very hard-pressed to notice that.

[Deathkeeper]

[Rambling- Grant]

Grant looks at the nail, feeling uneasy. Would it hurt him? It shouldn’t. No. It won’t. It can’t.
But still.
”Okay. Will it help if they, uh, already have? You know.” Grant says bashfully. He doesn’t like to admit he got forced to drink faerie water, even if he already admitted to everything else.
”Because I would like that dragon. But I would need to stop home, get something with a good story to trade. Um. Is that okay?”

[Slii Arhem]

[Rambling- Grant]

Grant looks at the nail, feeling uneasy. Would it hurt him? It shouldn’t. No. It won’t. It can’t.
But still.
”Okay. Will it help if they, uh, already have? You know.” Grant says bashfully. He doesn’t like to admit he got forced to drink faerie water, even if he already admitted to everything else.
”Because I would like that dragon. But I would need to stop home, get something with a good story to trade. Um. Is that okay?”

Rambling - Grant

"Ah. In situations like these, I feel it's best to refer to my general disclaimer." And Grant is handed something that looks very much like a hastily copied out, misspelled quotation of a drug infomercial's disclaimer. It starts with "May cause nausea, vomiting, dizziness, fever, chills..." Before moving onto things like "do not operate heavy machinery while using this product." and with a hastily scratched out, but not quite illegible line that just says, "The Shivering Poops."

Now Grant can't actually tell that Fezziro is smiling behind that mask, unless he's the sort of feytouched to be able to see through a few layers of heavily stitched leather. But the leering, companionable atmosphere implies it most strenuously. He lets Grant read for a few moments before whipping it away with a chuckle, "Unless you are actually natural born fey or not native to this plane and with myths surrounding you regarding the pain that cold forged iron can cause you from deep in your race's past, I highly doubt it could do you any harm. I don't even like having these out on the counter, because it's offensive to the few feyish customers I do get, but it sounds like you've run into some extremely bad sorts recently."

[Deathkeeper]

[Rambling- Grant]

This time, Grant does chuckle a little. This guy's certainly a showman, that's for sure.
"Well, no, I just got forced to drink some magic water. I'll probably be fine. So, uh, I'll be back in an hour, then? I won't need too long to get something you'll like, I promise." the boy pleads with the salesman.

[bc56]

Abrajin's Library

Warning bells go off in the Scout's mind as its systems inform it that the substance has corrupted its processor. It finds itself turning the alarms off. They're distracting it. What it really wants to do right now, is find somewhere quiet to sit down and compose a poem. It stumbles out of the room...
Without paying attention to which door it goes through. Thoughts of rhyme and rhythm, meter and melody are ricochetting through its mind like ping-pong balls on a space station.

Into the Dungeon

"Oh, blessit." Tethrik... curses?.. and raises his rifle, ready to shoot the first skeleton that pops up. It it turns out their as immune to bullets as they are to beheading, he might be better off using the weapon as a club.

[Morty]

[The Docks]

"Is it dead?" Calm Reed asks as the angel and the flower start falling down. "Did we finally kill it?"

[Nova_Eclipse]

[The Docks]

"I hope so, but I can't really tell yet. If it gets back up and starts yelling at us again in a minute, we'll know," Quin comments dryly.

[Purple Eagle]

Rambling - Brun

Fezziro is silent as he carefully decides how best to put what he wants to say. Finally he speaks, slowly and deliberately, A tool does not care about the reasons for which it was put to use, only the things it is used for mark its surface and its history. But its story does care a bit. Using it defensively or in the defense of others might mitigate the damage done to the object's awareness, but its original purpose of making beauty would still be twisted to the use you put it to. You must be very careful about the shape of your own intentions as well, and accept their consequences. Lashing out in anger even once might give it a taste of what anger can do." Fezziro coughs and realizes he's probably being a bit wordy for a pre-teen.

"In short, young mistress, it would be best to use it for music, not violence unless you truly have no other choice. If you teach a dog only to bite, don't be surprised if it bites you next." And he has to hope that will be enough.

[Rambling - Brun]

Brun seems to think on his words for a bit, silent even after he's spoken, and looking at the box in her hands. Coming to a conclusion, she smiles up cutely at him, her ears which had drooped standing back up. "I suppose... if I use this only for music, it'd make it more special. Danke, Herr Fezziro, I'll do as you say since you're a cool adult even if you talk too much." She bluntly states, then pulls out the flute from the box again. It's hers now to do as she wishes, and no one should frown at a talented little pre-teen filling the air with images of adventure and melodies that evoke wanderlust. Unfortunately, she can't carry the box and play at the same time, so she eventually puts the instrument back in its casing, bids adieu to the magic salesman, and departs!

She might be back with something to sell, Brun's always looking for ways to make money.

[Rebonack]

[The Docks]

The roiling sphere of color is watched from a safe distance until it dissipates. After a few moments of peace, the mew will drift over to the blast zone to survey what happened. Just in cast the orb was summoning something else. One can never be too sure with beings like this. How are you supposed to guess what sorts of abilities they have? Better to be sure.

Once's she's over the zone she'll probably have a good view of dead sea birds and some drifting fish carcasses.

Which makes her breath catch in her throat.

Okay.

Yeah.

It was a really REALLY good idea to catch that orb.

With visions of what might have happened had she failed dancing in her head (and with all thoughts of mercy toward the 'angel' scoured away) she turns back toward the mainland.

Geneva's next part here isn't terribly exciting.

She's flying back toward the docks! She'll probably arrive in a little bit.

[Industrial Park]

"Alright, ritual to stop. I don't know how much you've been told about these creatures, but the less you interact with them the better. Don't let them touch you. Don't let them vomit on you. If either of those things happen let me know right away. I can heal the damage they cause, but only if I get to it quickly. We need a codeword, too, in case we get separated. I think-"

Then Morning Glory's tail is on fire.

The air is filled with the rather horrid scent of burning hair.

"Ah!"

Flailing follows. Mostly thrashing the tail around, which of course makes the fire worse.

She can't really stop and roll, since the fire is on her tail. She can't stomp on it, since she can't reach her tail. Eventually she settles on giving her tail a flick, causing all the hair to simply drop off in a burning heap. Then it immediately begins to regrow.

"Passphrase is 'tail fire'," she pronounces whilst giving Down a venomous look.

And then... huh. Morning feels something. In her wings? That's a different sort of feeling. Must be how pegasi sense weather-related phenomena? She doesn't have much time to contemplate before Down dives into the pit. Apparently it's time to hurry.

"Sorry if the trip down is bumpy, I'm still learning," Morning says as she moves to grab Jaahlyn and carry her down into the abyss.

The trip will, in fact, be bumpy.

They won't crash, at least!

[Abrajin's Library]

Out through a door chosen at random the Scout goes!

Into a room that looks like an open air market!

With... a painted on 'sky' ceiling.

Everywhere are booths! Booths made of books! With large baskets full of spices! Spices of every imaginable color and aroma.

Despite what one would normally expect from an out door market, there doesn't appear to be anyone here. The air, though, one can practically taste it. A heavy flavor of... everything! It's almost overwhelming. The room is dominated by a strange, prickly looking tree with golden colored sap oozing from its bark. The air near it is filled with an overpowering sweet scent.

Two doors lead out of the room:
Mummification
Plants

[CosmicHobbit]

Into the Dungeon

"Oh, blessit." Tethrik... curses?.. and raises his rifle, ready to shoot the first skeleton that pops up. It it turns out their as immune to bullets as they are to beheading, he might be better off using the weapon as a club.

"****," Lynx curses normally. He quickly says, "Ambulans fit metens," as he swings his cane out to the side. As he does this, the cane lengthens, and the skull is pushed back by a blade coming out of the end. Within half a second, the cane has become a scythe. The handle is still black, but the new blade is a dark grey, even darker than normal metal, and on the back of this blade the skull sits, grinning almost maniacally.

Meanwhile, all four sarcophagi have had their lids pushed off, and the skeletons slowly climb out and shamble towards Tethrik and Lynx, two to an adventurer.

[Slii Arhem]

[Rambling- Grant]

This time, Grant does chuckle a little. This guy's certainly a showman, that's for sure.
"Well, no, I just got forced to drink some magic water. I'll probably be fine. So, uh, I'll be back in an hour, then? I won't need too long to get something you'll like, I promise." the boy pleads with the salesman.

Rambling - Grant

"I'll be here all night, though if the cart's closed up and locked when you get back, knock if it's still light out. I'll put the dragon and the nail in here." He puts the nail in a small cloth bag and that bag along with the dragon into a larger paper one, "For you to pick up. If you can't make it back tonight, I'll open up again when I'm awake in the morning, normally just a bit after 7AM so I have time for breakfast."

[Rambling - Brun]

Brun seems to think on his words for a bit, silent even after he's spoken, and looking at the box in her hands. Coming to a conclusion, she smiles up cutely at him, her ears which had drooped standing back up. "I suppose... if I use this only for music, it'd make it more special. Danke, Herr Fezziro, I'll do as you say since you're a cool adult even if you talk too much." She bluntly states, then pulls out the flute from the box again. It's hers now to do as she wishes, and no one should frown at a talented little pre-teen filling the air with images of adventure and melodies that evoke wanderlust. Unfortunately, she can't carry the box and play at the same time, so she eventually puts the instrument back in its casing, bids adieu to the magic salesman, and departs!

She might be back with something to sell, Brun's always looking for ways to make money.

Rambling Shop

Behind the others, a small 4ft tall figure stands with one arm holding a toolbelt to her chest. The hood of her poncho is pulled up and she seems to be humming patiently. She's content to wait for the taller folk to be done with the shopkeeper, but she's at least wanting to stake out her claim in line.

Rambling Shop - Mysterious Gentlebeing

Fezziro waves off his latest customer and nods to the very patient little lady behind her, gesturing her forward. This one looks like contract work, and while selling his existing baubles might be his stock and trade, enhancing something that's truly special to its owner is what makes his work worthwhile.

"Good evening Madame! And what can this creaky old peddler of fine goods from around the world and beyond do for you today?"

[Gnrlshrimp]

[Golden Flock Orphanage]

Okay. No time for comforting angel voice any more. No time for anything. Judging from Ithuriel's expression, which she can't keep from flashing across her face for a moment, the full force of the child's divinity has been like a gut-punch, knocking the wind straight out of her.

One hand shakily rests on her stomach as she looks down at the ground silently, in a state of shock, her body heaving with the strain of fighting for every breath and stubbornly refusing to give in to that feeling, that insistent voice telling her to just stop. Rest. Let the darkness wash over her and embrace her in eternal peace and silence.

"I- I- oh, gods, how?" The angel gasps, fighting back tears. There's no time for that now. There's no time to process this at all. Cry later, focus on living now, that's what matters.

"Y'can do this, kid. You can. I'll give you as long as I can. This is gonna look a bit scary, but it'll help me...handle this." She shifts, growing into a bulky bipedal semi-rhino, breaking what elements of her riot gear she hadn't been able to remove. Mentally resisting is entirely down to Ithuriel's own willpower, but fighting off the physical effects - keeping her body from just shutting down is made much easier by the incredible regenerative properties she has, particularly like this. It won't keep her going forever, but it buys time. "They're all gonna be fine, and I can tough this out as long as you need me to."

[Arkhosia]

The Docks

Calm Reed's inquiry is given an answer of sorts when Blanche switches her rifle to semi-auto and fires a bullet at the collapsed angel's head, making sure to finish it off while it's down if it isn't already. Rude, dishonorable and possibly uncalled for? Perhaps, but Blanche has absolutely no desire to see this thing get back up and fight them all over again. That done, she will make her way over to join the rest.

"Well, that was a thing." She comments, before adding "Good work, by the way." Stepping away, she'll call VIGIL and update them on the mission.

[Shadowcaller]

[The Docks]

Anika the bear roars in triumph as she sees the weird stalk go down. After all this, it felt like they had at least accomplished something beyond collateral damage.
Still, it was too early to call this a victory yet. Those creeps could be anywhere at this point. Still, there wasn't anything obvious she could rush over so she will wait for further orders for now.

Hopefully the goblins wouldn't be too upset about her blowing up their ship...

[Industrial Park]

Jaahlyn raises an eyebrow at the two's antics. Well, she could hardly complain at this point. Whatever they were doing, they seemed much more prepared than they had been.
This whole thing had turned out to be far greater than she had been informed about. If she had known there would be mages casting doom rituals that caused temperature changes in addition to shapeshifters, she would have come with a much larger arsenal at her disposal.

Besides, all this made her even less inclined to believe the two were shapeshifters under some rouse.
The bard let's herself be grabbed while getting her instrument. She believed it would prove more effective against these creatures than any weapon she had on hand would.

[Rebonack]

[Golden Flock Orphanage]

Red is concerned.

Unfortunately she doesn't really have any tools for dealing with waves of death eating away at someone else. Her own wards can kind of help in that regard, but they wouldn't be terribly useful here. They're more apt for taking a small number of catastrophic blows for her. They don't deal well with things nibbling through them.

She has her orders, though, and continues levitating the children out of the room.

She'll give that guy in the suit a withering glare, too.

"Keep an eye on our dapper trouble maker, dear," she says to Mo before extending her telekinetic glow around the whole mess of children. The unicorn gives a grunt of effort, staggering slightly under the strain. Levitating this much weight and so many objects at once is rather taxing.

She'll probably be paying for this with a nasty head ache later.

"I'll be back as soon as the little ones are clear," she says as she begins staggering toward the exit, her constellation of glowing orphans in tow.

[Purple Eagle]

[the Furry Mob]

There's no sympathy for Brun to be seen in Smorre's face. He simply remains with his hands raised. Once a police siren can be heard less than a minute after the killing shot was taken, and very close by at that, he suspects that a police presence so responsive and close by may not be coincidence...

The law's patrol car pulls up right next to the scene, sirens still blaring. Neither Smorre nor Alzim make any signs of resistance, they simply sit there, passively, hands still in the air. The latter of them may not even be able to do much more than that in his current state of mind. Neither of them has touched the murder weapon after all, and Smorre's own pistol has a different ammunition type and he has a concealed carry permit.

[the Furry Mob]

Brun drops the pistol if she hasn't already, and raises her hands, anticipating another trip to juvie, a trip that got her father's boss to put dirty cops on watch, cops she doesn't know about. She stands there, angry at Smorre for not getting involved and Alzim for his weak reaction, eyes on the gun and refusing to look at the officers.

The orc walks in, takes in the scene, spots Brun and reacts by sighing heavily. The human cop, on the other hand, runs forward to check Lars' pulse, confirming what we already knew. He looks a lot more troubled and angry than the orc. "What happened?" The orc asks, also in a German accent that's mostly undetectable save for some sounds, and his pitch inflections. "Officer Dieter!" Brun realizes on some level that his arrival is a bit too coincidential, but is too full of adrenaline to process that thought further. "This is Herr Smorre, I was eating here when Lars came and dragged me away he didn't intervene so I surprised him and took him down but he woke up and I got scared so I shot him because he wanted to sell me to slavery!" She gets out as loudly as she can, but not so loud that everyone outside hears.

"I knew this idiot would try something. He messed up too often and wanted to get back in good graces with his boss. Musta thought bringing the girl of his rival and estranged friend would give him more points." The human gets up. He's not happy about this, but Brun was the victim in all this. The orc walks out and fetches a body bag, which the elf is placed in, and calls a specific ambulance on the payroll, which soon arrives to pick up the body and place it inside. Of course, the area is cordoned off with the car parking positions, the ambulance not leaving until they're all done.

"Brun, car. Now." The human barks, and after a glance at the orc, she walks to the car, opens the door and sits in it. Once the scene's cleaned up good as new, the police officers motion for them to put their hands down. "You're not in trouble, sirs. I'm sorry for zis mess. I will need a statement from each of you as to what occurred, and zen we will be on our way."

The human adds, bringing out his notebook. "Brunhilde is quite the problem child, ever since her father died, but going through a death and then a kidnapping at her age has to be messing with her in some way. Please leave nothing out so we can help her." He sounds quite sincere, if sour at the elf for his actions.

[Leostales]

Spoiler: Industrial spoils

Show

[Industrial Park]

Down gives a small nod as her own backup arrives and lets Jaahlyn's explanation serve as a short situation report. She doesn't really know anything else herself.

Initial thought would be "oh hey, two entrances, time to divide and conquer." Hit them from both directions and press the ensuing advantages.
But that strategy is awful when the enemies are capable of taking the place of one of the groups and ruining everything. You'll never know if you're linking up with your cohorts, or something else.
Well, maybe not so much with Morning Glory's nose here...

Speaking of which! Down raises a hoof to cough, an unusual enough sight given her full-body armor, but is entirely a pointless gesture to distract from a slight posture change that sends a tiny jet of flame from her weaponry towards Morning's tail.
As this is unlikely to result in any particularly monstrous flailing and screeching, she is going to then proceed to act as if nothing interesting at all just happened.

"Right, so our options are questionable pit that used to hold a really big monster, or basement entrance. I-"
Pop.
The air pressure around the pit abruptly shifts, as the whistling of freezing wind begins to rise up in earnest from the pit, alongside a few errant snow flakes.
This is evidently a terrible occurrence, by Down's stiffening and startled glance into the pit.
"No time for safe. Someone's tapping a blizzard. Big one."

Muun has but a moment to react before Down zips around to try to grab hold of his shoulders and carry them both down into the pit. With Jaahlyn and Muun's lack of obvious wings, she figures they'll need the help and asking for permission takes too long. Maybe Morning will grab Jaahlyn.

The intent here is to dive down with the more flightless members of the group, past a couple layers of broken sewage tunnels, into what appears to have been a rather wet portion of cave. "Have been", as a lot of the moisture on the uneven walls has begun to freeze in the very uncomfortable air down here. That cold wind up above is much stronger down here, carrying more than a few snowflakes, and very obviously coming from further down the tunnel.
The cave also extends back in the other direction a bit, but there doesn't seem to be anything immediately interesting that way save underground darkness.
As opposed to the windy direction being very slightly illuminated.


[Industrial Park]

"Alright, ritual to stop. I don't know how much you've been told about these creatures, but the less you interact with them the better. Don't let them touch you. Don't let them vomit on you. If either of those things happen let me know right away. I can heal the damage they cause, but only if I get to it quickly. We need a codeword, too, in case we get separated. I think-"

Then Morning Glory's tail is on fire.

The air is filled with the rather horrid scent of burning hair.

"Ah!"

Flailing follows. Mostly thrashing the tail around, which of course makes the fire worse.

She can't really stop and roll, since the fire is on her tail. She can't stomp on it, since she can't reach her tail. Eventually she settles on giving her tail a flick, causing all the hair to simply drop off in a burning heap. Then it immediately begins to regrow.

"Passphrase is 'tail fire'," she pronounces whilst giving Down a venomous look.

And then... huh. Morning feels something. In her wings? That's a different sort of feeling. Must be how pegasi sense weather-related phenomena? She doesn't have much time to contemplate before Down dives into the pit. Apparently it's time to hurry.

"Sorry if the trip down is bumpy, I'm still learning," Morning says as she moves to grab Jaahlyn and carry her down into the abyss.

The trip will, in fact, be bumpy.

They won't crash, at least!

[Industrial Park]

Jaahlyn raises an eyebrow at the two's antics. Well, she could hardly complain at this point. Whatever they were doing, they seemed much more prepared than they had been.
This whole thing had turned out to be far greater than she had been informed about. If she had known there would be mages casting doom rituals that caused temperature changes in addition to shapeshifters, she would have come with a much larger arsenal at her disposal.

Besides, all this made her even less inclined to believe the two were shapeshifters under some rouse.
The bard let's herself be grabbed while getting her instrument. She believed it would prove more effective against these creatures than any weapon she had on hand would.

Muun is prepared to go as well. He thinks he may have an idea on something to use to their advantage. He removes a stocking hat from his pocket and puts it on his head. But when it is put on it turns into a gold mask shaped like a screaming face. He feels like a totally different person while wearing it. "This mask has magical properties. I don't really know how to use them, but it might have some side effects that could prove useful."

EDIT OOC:
If you guys need to skip my turn go ahead, I may be slow on posting.

[bc56]

Abrajin's Library

"The scented market
Spices blow in humid breeze
Fragrance on the air"

The scout realizes that it was speaking allowed. What was that? Its databanks dredge up a term it has not heard in decades. "Haiku." It feels right. A new warning bell goes off in its head, reminding it that the only right thing is to do its duty. It responds by overwriting its duty files with haikus. With a DATA_CORRUPTION_ERROR, the warning disappears. That wasn't so bad. Then the scout realizes it doesn't know what it's supposed to do anymore. Crippled by indecision, it sits down to think for a while behind one of the market stalls.

Into the dungeon
Tethrik fires the rifle at the one skeleton's head as soon as it clears the rim of the coffin, hoping to blow it to smithereens immediately. For the other, he waits until it gets closer, then uses the gun as a club to try to knock it aside.

[Deathkeeper]

Rambling - Grant

"I'll be here all night, though if the cart's closed up and locked when you get back, knock if it's still light out. I'll put the dragon and the nail in here." He puts the nail in a small cloth bag and that bag along with the dragon into a larger paper one, "For you to pick up. If you can't make it back tonight, I'll open up again when I'm awake in the morning, normally just a bit after 7AM so I have time for breakfast."

[Rambling- Grant]

Grant nods with a smile and runs off.

It'll be about three hours, but eventually he does return, carrying with him a backpack. He stops to catch his breath and wait for anyone else on line to finish up, then returns to the salesman.
"Okay, this is a good one. I think. You said you liked things with a story behind them, right?" he asks, grinning.

[Cola]

Spoiler

Show

Brun drops the pistol if she hasn't already, and raises her hands, anticipating another trip to juvie, a trip that got her father's boss to put dirty cops on watch, cops she doesn't know about. She stands there, angry at Smorre for not getting involved and Alzim for his weak reaction, eyes on the gun and refusing to look at the officers.

The orc walks in, takes in the scene, spots Brun and reacts by sighing heavily. The human cop, on the other hand, runs forward to check Lars' pulse, confirming what we already knew. He looks a lot more troubled and angry than the orc. "What happened?" The orc asks, also in a German accent that's mostly undetectable save for some sounds, and his pitch inflections. "Officer Dieter!" Brun realizes on some level that his arrival is a bit too coincidential, but is too full of adrenaline to process that thought further. "This is Herr Smorre, I was eating here when Lars came and dragged me away he didn't intervene so I surprised him and took him down but he woke up and I got scared so I shot him because he wanted to sell me to slavery!" She gets out as loudly as she can, but not so loud that everyone outside hears.

"I knew this idiot would try something. He messed up too often and wanted to get back in good graces with his boss. Musta thought bringing the girl of his rival and estranged friend would give him more points." The human gets up. He's not happy about this, but Brun was the victim in all this. The orc walks out and fetches a body bag, which the elf is placed in, and calls a specific ambulance on the payroll, which soon arrives to pick up the body and place it inside. Of course, the area is cordoned off with the car parking positions, the ambulance not leaving until they're all done.

"Brun, car. Now." The human barks, and after a glance at the orc, she walks to the car, opens the door and sits in it. Once the scene's cleaned up good as new, the police officers motion for them to put their hands down. "You're not in trouble, sirs. I'm sorry for zis mess. I will need a statement from each of you as to what occurred, and zen we will be on our way."

The human adds, bringing out his notebook. "Brunhilde is quite the problem child, ever since her father died, but going through a death and then a kidnapping at her age has to be messing with her in some way. Please leave nothing out so we can help her." He sounds quite sincere, if sour at the elf for his actions.

[the Furry Mob]

Smorre immediately notices that these two policemen seem fishy, and his suspicions are confirmed by how knowingly they talk about the elf. Those two guys must be pretty much mobsters in police uniforms. The catman remains silent through most of the ordeal, until the officers turn to question him. "Pp-p-problem child inndeed." He nods. "Wwwill likely make problems in in the fuh-ff-future too." As asked of him, Smorre retells the events that led up to this point. How they met climbing a scaffold, how they went to have lunch together, and what Brun told him. How freely she spilled the beans that she belonged to the mob and what happened to her father. And how she killed the elf he tried to save. Even how Brun demanded him to take her under his wing as an apprentice because she thought he was a high-ranking mobster - thought he was. He never outright stated to her exactly what relation he had to the shadowy life, just that he knew a bit about it. And these two bought policemen don't need to know who exactly he is either. At least he won't tell them, maybe they know of him and his crooked dealings in the transport industry already, who knows. "And and and that's all that happened relating to th-this incid-id-ident."

Alzim on the other hand is less calm and collected than his boss. He tells the same story, and won't disclose any information about Smorre's illegal life either - because all he knows is that the smorrebrod restaurant is a front for something.

Mafia here, gangs there, mobsters and criminal businesses to be found everywhere once you know what to look out for. Even the police is in on it. It's sad how prevalent crime is in this city, and Smorre wishes it could be more lawful and safe.

[Slii Arhem]

[Rambling- Grant]

Grant nods with a smile and runs off.

It'll be about three hours, but eventually he does return, carrying with him a backpack. He stops to catch his breath and wait for anyone else on line to finish up, then returns to the salesman.
"Okay, this is a good one. I think. You said you liked things with a story behind them, right?" he asks, grinning.

Rambling - Grant

The cart's actually in the process of being packed up for the night after a particularly unsuccessful first evening in Inside. Three customers total, and that was only if he counted the promis- oh well would you look at that, "Hello sir! And yes, things must have a story for my talents and skills to work their magic in bringing about potential. What tales do you have for me?" He sets a hat-stand on its side in a rack he made running the length of the cart and fishes Grant's bag out from its place under the counter.

He gestures to the shelved hat rack, "The owner of this collected hats and wore them rather whimsically, having a hat for every occasion and deciding that any occasion must be the right one for any of his hats at random. Now if you array it with a variety of hats and pick one at random, it will always give you the best hat for what you're walking into. I once sold it to a man with a hard hat from his old job. When he refused to believe the rack and selected something other than its offered protection, he walked outside right into a tumbling brick that landed on his head from the third story. He sold it back to me after that, said it felt a bit smug about the whole thing. Thankfully he was at least part troll, so he recovered alright." Fezziro actually lifts his mask slightly to give Grant a broad, nearly off duty smile before lowering it again. His soft jawline is quite pale, no wonder considering how covered he is from the sun's rays.

"It also does coats, but isn't as good at judging tailoring fashions compared to haberdashery. Now, what is it that you have for me?"

[CosmicHobbit]

Into the dungeon
Tethrik fires the rifle at the one skeleton's head as soon as it clears the rim of the coffin, hoping to blow it to smithereens immediately. For the other, he waits until it gets closer, then uses the gun as a club to try to knock it aside.

Into The Dungeon

The skeleton's head gets blown apart, but the skeleton keeps on going. The only thing that's changed is that it now stumbles around blindly, rather than coming toward the adventurers. The skeleton hit with the gun is hit away and falls, with the area hit now broken.

Lynx charges at one of the skeletons, slashing across it's rib cage with the scythe, followed by a hit with the end of the blade to the skull. The skeleton keeps shambling forward though, now with a hole in it's skull and some ribs on the floor. "Why won't they die?!"

[Deathkeeper]

[Rambling- Grant]

Grant smiles and opens his bag, taking out a worn leather belt.
"This is my grandpa's lucky belt. I have a lot of things from Gramps. But this is his Lucky Belt. He wore it every day he saw combat out in the frontier. It even blocked an arrow once, see that part where the buckle had to get fixed? Sixteen engagements, not a scratch. Only the last one, when he didn't wear it, did he get hurt. And then he went and produced Dad, somehow." From his tone, it seems Grant isn't too fond of his father.
"It also kept his pants from falling down."

[bc56]

Into the Dungeon

"They can't." Tethrik brings the stock of his rifle down on the skeleton again. "We ought to make them wish they could."

[Rebonack]

[Abrajin's Library]

And so, bereft of purpose, the Scout sits down behind a booth made of cobbled together books.

Not quite a fig tree, but as good a place as any to sit and meditate until one finds purpose.

Speaking of people looking for purposes, someone else steps out from behind that strange, fragrant tree.

A woman, half elven it would seem. You can tell because her ears aren't SUPER pointy. A bit stockier, too. Not nearly as inhumanly slender as elves tend to be. Red hair, green eyes, wearing a brigandine that makes her look bulkier than she would otherwise. A pack on her back, sturdy boots, and a crooked shepherd's staff. As she circles the tree, she stops every now and again to peer around the other side of it. She is, quite obviously, looking for something.

But her movements are... somewhat clumsy. Almost mechanical.

The sort of movements that suggest she's very carefully thinking about each step as opposed to the usual thoughtless ease that bipeds display when walking.

"Derelith? Where are you?" the woman calls out as she circles the tree again.

[CosmicHobbit]

Into the Dungeon

"They can't." Tethrik brings the stock of his rifle down on the skeleton again. "We ought to make them wish they could."

The skeleton breaks further, but is slowly pushing itself up.

Lynx laughs. "I know something that might do that!" He points the end of the scythe at an advancing skeleton an incantation, shooting a yellow fiery arrow at it. The arrow drills a hole through the skeleton's head, right between the eyes, and hits the wall, disappearing. The skeleton just keeps on shambling forward, though. "Aaaand I got nothing."

[Nova_Eclipse]

[Industrial Strength Investigation]

Another regular morning seems to be rolling in at the Intersection precinct where Detective Michalson is stationed. Or at least, it did, until the Sergeant calls him into his office and closes the door, gesturing for the Detective to take a seat.

"Got a case for ya, Michalson. A group of 'em, actually, we think they're related," he says, taking his own seat. "Happened just last night. An entire factory floor stolen, along with an entire warehouse, and the contents of several shops in the business district. The entire shift that was on duty in the factory vanished along with all of the equipment. The warehouse was mostly empty, thank Prime, and the shops were too, but the whole thing probably has magic involved. I trust that won't be a problem?"

[Purple Eagle]

Smorre immediately notices that these two policemen seem fishy, and his suspicions are confirmed by how knowingly they talk about the elf. Those two guys must be pretty much mobsters in police uniforms. The catman remains silent through most of the ordeal, until the officers turn to question him. "Pp-p-problem child inndeed." He nods. "Wwwill likely make problems in in the fuh-ff-future too." As asked of him, Smorre retells the events that led up to this point. How they met climbing a scaffold, how they went to have lunch together, and what Brun told him. How freely she spilled the beans that she belonged to the mob and what happened to her father. And how she killed the elf he tried to save. Even how Brun demanded him to take her under his wing as an apprentice because she thought he was a high-ranking mobster - thought he was. He never outright stated to her exactly what relation he had to the shadowy life, just that he knew a bit about it. And these two bought policemen don't need to know who exactly he is either. At least he won't tell them, maybe they know of him and his crooked dealings in the transport industry already, who knows. "And and and that's all that happened relating to th-this incid-id-ident."

Alzim on the other hand is less calm and collected than his boss. He tells the same story, and won't disclose any information about Smorre's illegal life either - because all he knows is that the smorrebrod restaurant is a front for something.

Mafia here, gangs there, mobsters and criminal businesses to be found everywhere once you know what to look out for. Even the police is in on it. It's sad how prevalent crime is in this city, and Smorre wishes it could be more lawful and safe.

[the Furry Mob]

The two policemen look at each other when Smorre mentions how freely she spilled the beans, but otherwise make no notable reactions as the take notes. After making sure Alzim's story corroborates Smorre's, the two men nod at each other, and address Smorre. "Noted, sir. You're not in trouble, just try and keep today to yourselves. At this rate that girl'd get shipped off to military school, and you won't have to worry about her again. Let's move." The human cop reveals, and with that, they leave the store.

As they drive off, one can see the human chewing out Brun, whose ears are drooping down while she glares daggers at Smorre, a look she'll maintain until they drive away.

[bc56]

Abrajin's Library

The scout doesn't respond. What's the point? It doesn't know what to do, why should it do anything?

Into the Dungeon

Tethrik raises his fists and grabs the skeleton, punching it in the face as he speaks. "Just" PUNCH "crawl" PUNCH "back" PUNCH "into" PUNCH "your" PUNCH
"grave!"