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IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables

"Speaking of..." he approached the prisoner, "...do you have any cybernetics we should be aware of?" 

He wasn't really expecting an honest answer, and was already looking the disgraced Skrall up-and-down for any sign of implants. The prisoner hadn't put up any fight against Tirveus, but that didn't mean he wasn't concealing some kind of retractable blade or strength enhancer that might allow him to attempt an escape later. 

@BULiK @a goose @skrall

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IC: Skrall [Roxtus, Stables]

Skrall continued to stand somewhat dazed, putting up no resistance. But at the question, his eyes glowed bright red for a moment.

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IC: Del - Red Star Inn, Atero

The guardsmen were at first taken well-aback by the Glatorian's, Del's, response to Skyra; she'd got more out of them just now than the pair had managed in a couple weeks. After the initial shock subsided, Ahmoa couldn't help but beam.

"Del. A fine name indeed." He turned to his partner, expecting to be met with a similar grin, and instead was rather dismayed to lay eyes on a pithy half-smile. "Is... everything alright, dear?"

Mard tried to perk up, the crimson guard could tell he was failing. "Hm? Yeah, no, I'm happy, for... Del I mean. You don't... think I was too hard on that guy just now, do you?"

Ahmoa sighed and laid a soft hand on the Jungle Agori's shoulder. "It's been a stressful time for us, Mard. We're finally getting somewhere with helping our friend, it's only natural you want them to feel safe at such a critical juncture. Protected."

"Loved," Mard added abruptly.

Again Ahmoa was surprised, but not so much as before. The Jungle Agori was always one to wear his heart on his sleeve, it was one of his favourite things about him. He hadn't anticipated he'd feel so strongly about Del so quickly; however, he couldn't rightly say he didn't feel the same.

The Fire Agori let loose a chuckle, gently jabbing Mard's arm. "Your paternal instinct is showing, dear."

Mard rubbed his bicep, laughing in a way that indicated he knew his flame a) wasn't entirely wrong, b) was an obvious hypocrite. "Shut up."

Del, oblivious, continued to converse with Skyra, continued to point at their own face. "Del, I... find Celrys. Skyra Daring... the best driver... to Tajun?" The expression they wore could almost have been expectancy, perhaps even anticipation.

 

OOC: @Snelly

Edited by Techn0geist
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IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables

"Very informative," he muttered. Evidently Tirveus' tortures had robbed the man not only of his honour, but of his wits or his tongue as well. 

The answer, such as it was, did little to put him at ease. Ocular implants were unlikely to be able to aid in an escape effort, but most Skrall who possessed cybernetics had been equipped with two distinct devices. Unless the Sisters had been especially cruel and decided that each eye counted separately - as they had with the electromagnets in Skrall's own hands - that possibly meant there was an implant yet unaccounted for. 

"Best to make sure he's bound for our journey," he suggested to the Skrall who had taken charge of the prisoner, "And relieve him of his weapons." 

Why Tirveus had allowed a man who was to be sold into slavery wander unsecured with his weapons still on his back was quite beyond Skrall's ability to speculate. Was Tirveus truly so certain that the coward would accept his fate? The mere fact that he was being punished for abandoning his post surely made it more likely that he might try to run again to escape that punishment?

It wasn't a chance Skrall was willing to take, given that the safe passage of himself and his fellow warriors was contingent on them selling their former comrade to the Bone Hunters. 

@BULiK @Burnmad @Skrall

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IC: Salwa (Precipere)

"Same to you" I answered, and got out of there and away from the presence of others as fast as I felt safe enough to do.

I had to take a moment just to make sure that everything actually was as good as it could be, but nothing else.

First and foremost, I had to double back to the dens to check on Gatog. He never went very long before he became ornery if he didn't have me somewhere nearby. Once I'd taken a moment to check on that, I would also need a moment to make sure everything else I might need was in as good a shape as I could get to be, and then I would need a moment to myself to think through what might be good to say at the meeting with Somok and then... well. I wasn't quite ready to think about that yet.

OOC: @Nato G @Toru Nui

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IC: Skrall - Roxtus, Stables

Skrall glanced at his younger compatriot, considering his words. "I intended to see to it when we left. Skrall would be a fool to try anything in the middle of Roxtus. Still, now is as good a time as any. Hold his hands out in front of him, Skrall."

He could have ordered the deserter to surrender its weapons itself. That would necessitate it draw them, however; and a Skrall, deserter or not, is accustomed to using a weapon when drawing it. Doubly so for a reject who was staring down the barrel of a lifetime of slavery. His sadistic impulses aside, Skrall preferred the relative safety of pulling the weapons from Skrall's back himself. And, he told himself, this way would be more humiliating.

Grabbing a coil of sturdy rope that was hanging over the wall of a stable stall, he glanced at the stable master. "Add a length of rope to the requisitions manifest," he said, unwinding a portion of rope long enough to bind Skrall's hands with.

@BULiK @Nato G @ Skrall

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IC: Skrall – Roxtus Stables

It took a considerable amount of effort for Skrall to stop a derisive laugh from escaping him as the cloaked one spoke. The prisoner would be foolish to try to escape in a city filled with people who looked just like him? The only place in Bara Magna where he stood a chance of managing to blend in or getting lost in the crowd?

Skrall didn't share the overconfidence that Tirveus and the cloaked one seemed to be plagued by. This disgraced warrior had abandoned his post. The companions he'd abandoned had perished. The Skrall as a civilisation had been routed by an impossible enemy and driven southward. 

Though he'd never admit it out loud, he understood the grim truth: the Skrall were not infallible, or unbeatable. 

 

Wary of potential struggle, he reached out to take the prisoner’s hands and hold them up to be tied.

@Burnmad @BULiK

___________________________________________

IC: Somok – Precipere Village

Somok’s journey back to his hut was far longer than the journey from it. Not only because he stopped to speak with Giltu, the head of the Agori guard who he’d sent the sentries to find earlier, but because it was uphill.

The conversation with Giltu took only a few seconds; Somok ordered, Giltu obeyed, hurrying off to double the roster for guards stationed at the staircase leading to the canyon floor.

But navigating the mild incline back to his hut was a cautious and laborious task, each step measured and careful, his staff assisting as a third support. He’d had a bad fall a few months ago and spent weeks enduring excruciating back pain afterwards. At his age even a simple slip could lead to serious injury.

Still, he eventually made it back unscathed and sat down inside, to pore over reports from the day prior while he waited for Salwa and Xyde to return.

Edited by Nato G
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IC: Dornak and Maxas (Streets of Atero) - Prime Suspect

Alright, Dornak just had to get to his Thornatus and then-

“Off in a hurry, are we?”

Spikit spit.

“Maxas! I was, just, uh - well, I’d like to beat the rush to Tajun and-”

It was then that Dornak realised the flaw with his plan - there was nothing in the direction he needed to go to head to Roxtus save Roxtus itself. Most people probably wouldn’t notice.

Maxas was not ‘most people.’

“Good idea - Bone Hunters are more attracted to larger targets, being statistically likely to attain greater spoils. The idea that we’ll be safe in higher numbers is a lie spread around by the tribe rulers to preserve their alliance with the Hunters-”

“Ah, yes, well-” Oh great, there was the possibility planted in his mind that he’d be attacked along the way. Or was Maxas right, and he wouldn’t get attacked if he went alone as opposed to in a group? After all, he and Maxas had arrived in Atero alone, somewhat, if they could count one another as company. “B-b-but, I’m a little concerned about the, uh, engineerical integrity of my vehicle.”

“That’s not a word.”

“What, integrity? I wholly agree with-”

“And I can see your Thornatus from here.” Maxas pointed dramatically at the aforementioned vehicle. “It was in functional condition while you were travelling here, and logically should still be so.”

“Uuuuh…” Lie, you idiot! Lie like you’ve never lied before, which in turn is ALSO a lie! “It’s not a… not an external problem, methinks. It keeps making these weird noises when I turn it on. You, uh, didn’t notice ‘cause of your own vehicle and all the noise that was making-”

“Demonstrate.”

“Huh?”

“Demonstrate the issue with your vehicle. Make it play these ‘noises’ you mentioned.”

“Ah. Aaaaaaaah. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah… Dornak’s mind raced for a solution. “Th-th-there’s an Iron Glatorian in the Red Star Inn!”

“Hmmmm.”

“Seriously! But he was kinda spooky so I wanna leave! That’s all! I didn’t tell you the truth because, er, I didn’t want you to think less of me!”

“That isn’t possible.” Maxas replied, curtly. “We’ll see if what you say is correct…” He began traipsing cautiously, over to the inn.

Dornak sighed in relief. He mounted the Thornatus, and…

“Urgh.” people were definitely going to notice him going to Roxtus.

Well then… the Skrall would just have to come to him then, weren’t they? Hopefully they’d be understanding about the whole situation and NOT use his body for Thornax practice. Hopefully.

 

IC: Lutenus (Atero, Red Star Inn) - Primary Source Citation

“Hmmm…” Lutenus contemplated this for a moment. “Yes, as you say, why not?” Well, the Iron Glatorian or the entourage of those who surrounded him had done something to frighten off that Fire Agori… but in any case.

He raised from his seat, and began slowly trudging along to where they were sitting…

@oncertainty @Techn0geist @Snelly @Morgan Yu

 

IC: Skrall (Roxtus, Stables) - Red Eyes, Take Warning

Eyes glowing red. Ominous. Could not explain why, merely an instinct.

Skrall began ferrying supplies to the carriages they would be using.

@BULiK @a goose @Burnmad @Vezok's Friend @Nato G @oncertainty

 

IC: Taldrix (Bone Hunter Stronghold, Outside Somnii’s Cell) - The Ghost With the Most

“Right then.” Taldrix didn’t know to be intrigued or concerned at the prospect of actually meeting their illusive leader.

How could someone seize control of a bunch of disorderly brigands and only be seen by a select few? What, precisely, did he have to hide? Disfigurement? Physical weakness? Was he not even an Agori, Glatorian, or even Skrall?

She took the pass from Crucius. Hopefully Somnii would up and die soon, she couldn’t bear this anticipation.

@a goose

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IC: Skyra Daring - Red Star Inn  -

Skyra smiled, for someone who could barely talk, Del was catching on pretty quick. The Jungle Glatorian nodded at his words. 

"Yup! We're gonna drive to Tajun and find Celrys. It's going to be fun I can tell."

@oncertainty @Morgan Yu @Toru Nui @Techn0geist

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IC/ Skrall/ Roxtus/ Stables/

 

Skrall was about to get on with it, but she found herself glancing at their cargo once more. It wasn’t who he was that intrigued her - it was what he’d done, or failed to do. There were plenty of reasons to get exiled, she knew that all too well, but abandoning one’s post was not a common one.

 

No time for that now. She chided herself, then turned towards the beastmaster again. “Two spikit.” She confirmed. She jerked her head towards the pens, indicating for him to get moving. She followed to assist. 

 

While skrall began loading the supplies and Skrall & Skrall got their cargo ready, the two of them brought one spikit at a time out of their enclosures and hitched them to the wagons. She focused more on the actual attaching of the harnesses and left the beastmaster to deal with the business end of the animals. If done properly, it wasn’t all that difficult - as long as the nature of the animals was kept in mind and the proper process followed. If not, the spikit would remind you.

 

Not long after, both carriages were ready. The beastmaster was still grumpy, but slightly less so now that the potentially limb-intensive part of her job was done and went on to ready the rock steeds. Skrall shifted to giving Skrall a hand with loading up the supplies. 

 

OOC: @Toru Nui @skrall

Edited by Vezok's Friend
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IC: Dune Wolf

"Well, whaddya know, me too." Gin. He rememberd she had asked him a question. "Slaves. Brothers and sisters of mine, you know how it is. Last I heard, the ice tribe have close ties with the Bone Hunters. And those aßholes killed my family, all my families. So I got an appetite for vengeance." Gin. "Care to join a fellow wolf hunting his prey?"

OOC: @a goose

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IC: Lorqua - Red Star Inn

She wound her way across the floor, weaving around a group of Agori who were too drunk to have any sense of personal space. The Inn had to be at its busiest right before the Grand Tournament. Like Lutenus had said, everyone was about to be heading to Tajun. And, so far as she could tell, everyone was hoping to get one for the road first. Most were having a few more than one, based on a look at some of the patrons.

It was a strange group they were approaching—though in her opinion she and Lutenus made an equally surprising pair, if you knew who you were dealing with—the Tesaran Glatorian, that she was now quite sure was Skyra Daring, was happily talking with the Ferrumite; the two Agori spoke quietly with one another; and another Glatorian, whose tribe she could not place with certainty, was standing and glowering.

As they drew closer, Lorqua shrugged to Lutenus. She gave her best approximation of an approachable smile towards the group, hoping the two interlopers wouldn't be too unwelcome.

"Hey, Skyra, long time!"

OOC: @Toru Nui @Snelly @Techn0geist @Morgan Yu

 

IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables

Skrall, happy to actually have something to do, joined his fellows in loading supplies into the carriage. Regardless of anything else, he was in motion now. That was an improvement.

OOC: @skrall

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On 2/24/2023 at 2:43 PM, Burnmad said:

IC: Skrall - Roxtus, Stables

"I intended to see to it when we left. Skrall would be a fool to try anything in the middle of Roxtus. Still, now is as good a time as any. Hold his hands out in front of him, Skrall."

He could have ordered the deserter to surrender its weapons itself. That would necessitate it draw them, however; and a Skrall, deserter or not, is accustomed to using a weapon when drawing it. Doubly so for a reject who was staring down the barrel of a lifetime of slavery. His sadistic impulses aside, Skrall preferred the relative safety of pulling the weapons from Skrall's back himself. And, he told himself, this way would be more humiliating.

Grabbing a coil of sturdy rope that was hanging over the wall of a stable stall, he glanced at the stable master. "Add a length of rope to the requisitions manifest," he said, unwinding a portion of rope long enough to bind Skrall's hands with.

On 2/24/2023 at 5:21 PM, Nato G said:

IC: Skrall – Roxtus Stables

Wary of potential struggle, he reached out to take the prisoner’s hands and hold them up to be tied.

IC: Skrall [Roxtus, Stables]

When the soldier began to move for him at orders from special forces, the delinquent saw his options and chose the path of greatest resistance.

He raised his hands in front of him, level with the ground. But as Skrall took hold of Skrall's right hand, Skrall's left hand was moving away. In fact, all of Skrall began to move in that split second from Skrall's grip finding purchase. His torso rotated counterclockwise as his entire body threw its force behind a punch towards the ground on his left. The sudden jerk to the left and down was meant to drive the latched-on Skrall off of his footing and into the dirt floor.

Skrall's left hand reached the handle on his hip. It unsheathed the black blade of his shortsword and raised it to the ready.

"No."

Edited by BULiK
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IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables

As a man who fought with magnets in his hands, Skrall knew better than most when to try to hold on, and when to let go. 

Speed was his specialty, not strength, and he'd long ago learned that he couldn't overpower an average Skrall in a straight battle of brawn. So as soon as the disgraced one started to pull away, Skrall let him, taking a step back as a sword was suddenly drawn. He didn't bother going for his own weapon. His spear was slung across his back, and reaching for it would create an easy opening to cut him down. Better to keep his hands free to simply grab the sword if an attack was made; cut hands were preferable to a cut throat. 

"Ah, so you do speak," he sneered, "Where was this bravery when you were leaving your own to die?"

@BULiK @Skrall

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IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables

Skrall's brows raised. The prisoner had some fight in him yet.

He was in the middle of carrying a crate of supplies to the carriage when the prisoner pulled the blade, but he hadn't moved in the scant moments since. He held the crate before him, suddenly conscious that his own blade was sheathed at his side, whereas his Thornax hurler was slung across his back and thus relatively inaccessible.

He watched warily. The wiry one was speaking to the prisoner. Why was that? What was the use? Skrall could infer. The wiry one was Skrall, he knew how to fight in a group. If he was talking to a foe, it was to buy time for his comrades. Skrall had to make that time count.

He drew in a breath, and then launched the crate in his hands towards the erstwhile prisoner with as much force and accuracy as he could muster. The moment the crate left his fingers, his hand was at his hip. He drew his khopesh, and set his feet in a fighting stance.

OOC: @BULiK @Skrall

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IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables

Skrall reacted immediately to the deserter's resistance. In the briefest of moments, the rope he had coiled over his arm was discarded, his feet working in concert with his brain to mark the location where the obstacle would come to rest, as they had marked the layout of the stable when they had first entered. He knew, intuitively, that the rope would now be a tripping hazard two paces to his left, just as he knew that the traitor could be reached - or could reach him - in one lunging step, just as he knew that Skrall was not going to be grounded by the traitor's attempt to throw him. Young as he looked, Magnet-Hands was not born yesterday.

Before the rope touched the stable floor, Skrall's own blade flashed from its sheath, and he moved back two steps to place some distance between himself and the threat. The tip of his sword pointed threateningly at the deserter as he held it close in a guard position, all the while he strafed around to his left - stepping over the rope without needing to look - in the hopes of encircling the traitor-- and of distracting it as Skrall hefted a crate to bludgeon it with.

@BULiK @Nato G @oncertainty @Toru Nui @Vezok's Friend

Edited by Burnmad
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On 2/26/2023 at 4:53 PM, Nato G said:

IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables

"Ah, so you do speak," he sneered, "Where was this bravery when you were leaving your own to die?"

22 hours ago, oncertainty said:

IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables

He drew in a breath, and then launched the crate in his hands towards the erstwhile prisoner with as much force and accuracy as he could muster. The moment the crate left his fingers, his hand was at his hip. He drew his khopesh, and set his feet in a fighting stance.

2 hours ago, Burnmad said:

IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables

Before the rope touched the stable floor, Skrall's own blade flashed from its sheath, and he moved back two steps to place some distance between himself and the threat. The tip of his sword pointed threateningly at the deserter as he held it close in a guard position, all the while he strafed around to his left - stepping over the rope without needing to look - in the hopes of encircling the traitor-- and of distracting it as Skrall hefted a crate to bludgeon it with.

IC: Skrall [Roxtus, Stables]

His foe relenting his grip, Skrall immediately reached his right hand towards his back to withdraw his shield. As he brought it in front of him, he saw Skrall make his throw. He angled the shield and tensed his stance. The crate impacted the rounded surface, contents creating a muffled cacophony as they bounced inside. Skrall didn't have to stop the entire mass so much as absorb enough to deflect it to his right side.

A growl.

Three Skrall were ahead of him. Two had blades drawn, while the lackey resorted to words. Skrall consolidated his position by stepping backwards in pace with the one approaching to his left flank, while retaliating in kind.

"I may be headed to the mongrels, but no Skrall surrenders his shield."

Edited by BULiK
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IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables

"You think the Bone Hunters will let you keep it?" He scoffed. He raised his left hand, aiming and activating his electromagnet implant in an attempt to pull the shield from the disgraced Skrall's hand. If you won't surrender it, then I'll just have to take it.

Even if the attempt to disarm him failed, the struggle would provide distraction enough for the others to make moves of their own. 

@BULiK @Vezok's Friend @Burnmad @oncertainty @Toru Nui @a goose

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IC: Wolf (Atero; Red Star Inn)

"Vengeance doesn't put food on the table." Wolf took another swig of gin. "I have no love for Hunters, but I do have responsibilities."

IC: Crucius (Bone Hunter Stronghold)

Crucius seemed set to say something else, when he was interrupted by the ringing of a bell; someone was at the gates. Metus had arrived.

"Time for me to leave, then. Good luck; try not to disappoint me."

He did not wait for a reply, and Taldrix was left alone.

IC: Skrall (Stables)

Skrall stood with folded arms, watching the proceedings with an expression that had gradually shifted from boredom to outright disapproval.

"Let the man keep his shield; would you not wish your captors to extend the same dignity to you, in his position?"

He looked then to the disgraced Skrall. "As for you, none of us will grant you an honourable death. Surrender your weapon before you debase yourself any further."

IC: Somnii (Bone Hunter Stronghold; Somnii's Cell)

The Bone Hunters were gone; with no small amount of concern, Somnii realised that she couldn't recall them leaving.

A blackout of some kind, then. It was the first such incident she had been aware of – but then, her days were spent alone in a cell. How would she even have known?

No. She couldn't allow herself to dwell on the progress of the disease; days had passed and yet she was still alive, still in possession of her faculties. That was more important.

That meant she could still find a way out.

OOC: @Wotz @Toru Nui @ skrall

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IC: Del - Red Star Inn, Atero

"It's going to be fun..." Del repeated, visibly puzzling out the words; the meaning, many more meanings, were sitting just beyond a threshold. In time they would return, as long-dormant parts of the Glatorian's brain were reached out to and reawoken. A hitherto-unknown fan in Del's helmet began to quietly hum.

Behind and beside Del, the two Agori had stopped laughing but held uncomfortable faux-smiles on their faces. Mard was the first to notice.

"On your seven, in the booth. Slow and casual." He hissed out in a whisper, guardsman's instinct kicking in.

Ahmoa, as per instruction, turned back towards the bar and glanced over his shoulder past Del. From the corner of his eye he saw two Tesaran Glatorian staring, the more obviously cybernetic of them pointing, right at... Del? Why was everyone so interested in them? No, not them expressly. The Fire Agori turned back to his partner and let his smile drop as the two began to approach the bar.

"What happened to Ferrum?' The crimson guard grimly speculated.

On 2/26/2023 at 3:25 PM, oncertainty said:

"Hey, Skyra, long time!"

Perhaps the duo were mistaken, maybe the woman had just recognised Skyra across the Red Star. But the man, the cyborg... no, his half-mechanical gaze was fixed on the Iron Tribal. Mard suppressed a shudder, thinking about the madman Celrys who'd made his name by shoving metal into people and seeing what stuck. He was confident in his read of this one at least; trouble.

Del, meanwhile, was making their own independent assessment of the newcomers, their gaze settling past Skyra's shoulder. They took particular note of the cyborg.

<<Analysing scenario.>>

<<Prostheses present in green Glatorian. Ocular simulacrum replacing eye sinister. Capability unknown. Assume presence of enhanced optical performance. Additional prosthesis replacing skull posterior. Type unknown. Capability unknown. Glatorian body language indicates heightened awareness of Del. I. No present threat. Maintain awareness.>>

As with the nervous wreck of an Agori they'd briefly had as a drinking partner, Del stared right back at the Tesaran cyborg, their eyes bouncing from between the organic and cybernetic one and showing no sign of settling on either.

 

OOC: @Snelly @Toru Nui

 

Edited by Techn0geist
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IC: Zha’ar – The Wastelands

It was that time of year again.

Zha’ar rarely received news in the traditional ways, but trade, traffic, and travellers told her their stories, even when she was only observing from afar.

A large group of Agori from a single tribe travelling together with no trade goods told her that an arena fight was unfolding at their destination, with the size of said group often indicating whether the competitor was a crowd favourite, or if the resource being fought over was of great import. A sudden rise in the number of guards accompanying caravans meant there was new trouble along the route, with their choice of weaponry often informing her what that trouble might be. And right now, the sharp and sudden influx of travellers going from everywhere to somewhere told her that it was tournament time.

Based on the number of parties and caravans heading south-west, it was abundantly clear that Tajun was to be the site of the first exhibition match of the tournament. Zha’ar had never had the opportunity to watch any of the tournament matches over the years, for obvious reasons, but she’d still reaped the rewards, as she planned to do again this year.

The brave and impatient among travellers would traverse all manner of untested routes or rumoured shortcuts on their journey across the wastes, but those who were unaccustomed to the wilderness, those who’d didn’t know how to defend themselves, those who lived their days safely behind their walls and only stepped out to see their favourite fighter in an arena… they would take the well-travelled routes, grouping together, believing themselves to be safe.

Easy pickings…

Dust plumed in Solis’ wake as the sandy-hued Rock Steed raced along the shore of the river of sand, following it south towards one of Zha’ar’s favourite haunts. If it had a proper name, she didn’t know it, and had long ago nicknamed it “the crossroads”. It was a well-trodden path where the main roads from Atero, Vulcanus, and Tajun all intersected, with the surrounding area offering ample ambush points to stage raids on passing travellers. Depending on what sequence the exhibition matches occurred in this year, the area would likely remain busy for quite some time. 

I won’t be the only Gatherer prowling these parts.

She was always torn when she contemplated crossing paths with her own kind. Everyone else out here was easy to deal with: they treated her like carrion, and she robbed them. But other Gatherers were harder to judge. Some were open to trading goods, or even collaborating on raids. Others offered her the disdain due to a crippled exile, or worse, treated her as they would any other prey.

But there would be plenty of bounty to go around, and she’d heard rumours of other clans voluntarily uniting under some new leader, so hopefully cooperation would be more likely than competition or conflict in the coming weeks. Hopefully…

________________________________________________

IC: Avinus – Tajun Rooftop

Avinus’ abode was a simple, two-storey structure nestled amidst dozens of others in an unassuming neighbourhood of Tajun. Though her lifestyle was definitely on the extravagant side, her home was more humble by comparison. With most of her workdays spent at the arena and her downtime at bars around town, all she needed from her abode was a bed to sleep on, a kitchen to occasionally cook in, and plenty of wall-space to hang her trophies.

And a rooftop with room enough to practice on.

She stood across from a battered wooden dummy that she’d haphazardly bolted to the roof years ago. The poor effigy was more battle-scarred than Avinus herself was, but it stood strong even now as she slashed, battered, and jabbed away at it with her trusty trident.  

In her early days, she’d trained on the shore of the oasis. The serenity and silence had been calming, allowing her to focus wholly on her training and tactics. But the first time she’d entered the arena for a real match, she’d realised what a mistake that had been. The noise of the crowd had distracted and disoriented her, and she’d been soundly defeated.

She’d trained on her roof ever since, where the hustle and bustle of the street below and the occasional cheers and catcalls of onlookers below better simulated the noise of a crowd. A local tinkerer had helped her set up the training dummy to spin when struck, allowing it to simulate a retaliating enemy. She equipped its arms with different weapons at different times to better prepare herself for the wide range of different hazards the arena might offer.

This would be her twentieth tournament, and if she’d learned one thing from all of her fights it was that there would always be some new tool or tactic or technology that she hadn’t encountered before. The world was always innovating, and she had to do the same.

Today’s opponent was wielding a flail, the weapon swinging wildly as the dummy was sent spinning by her latest blow. She ducked under the whirling chain, delivering a jab to the dummy’s abdomen with her trident, perforating the padding and slowing the spin.

Punctured, in pain. Vulnerable to attack.  

As the dummy made another circle she pulled her weapon free and pointed it upwards, catching the flail and letting it tangle around the trident’s tines. She straightened to her feet and wrenched the trident against the direction of the spin, forcing the dummy to a stop as she brought up her foot and kicked it in the chest. The dummy didn’t budge, of course, being bolted in place, but a real opponent would’ve been knocked back and likely lost their grip on their tangled tool.

Disoriented, disarmed. Open for a finishin’ blow.

She delivered it. The blunt end of her trident swept down in a brutal blow towards the pole holding the dummy up, simulating a swing that would trip up a reeling opponent.

Getting’ acquainted with the sand. Definitely lost their weapon now. Fight’s over.

She sighed slightly as she disentangled her weapon and returned it to her back. No matter what she tried to do to simulate facing a real foe, it wasn’t good enough. It was rarely this easy in the arena. But training with Tajun’s other Glatorian carried risk, regardless of the precautions they took. She’d get her chance to face real foes soon enough, with Tajun set to host the first exhibition match.

Training done for the time being, she made her way downstairs and stepped outside. The tournament always brought all kinds of interesting visitors to the city. Let’s hope some of ‘em know how to party, she thought, as she set off down the street.

OOC: Open for interaction.

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IC: Karak - Red Star Inn

This quarry, there's more beyond the surface, I can tell - but for the moment, I care not. What does begin to set me off is the growing number of prying eyes. Leering, asking questions. Skyra's name is called - I've had enough.

"I desire to leave." I speak quietly but without softness to Skyra. There is a storm gathering and I have no intention of being swept up - not when my goals lay so close.

OOC: @Snelly@oncertainty @Techn0geist @Toru Nui

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On 2/22/2023 at 4:34 PM, Toru Nui said:

IC: Vraek (Streets of Atero) - Bearer of Bad News

Vraek bit her tongue. There wasn’t much in the way of good news.

“I’m afraid we’re still… dealing with the Bone Hunters.” Vraek spoke. “And taking their… merchandise. She hissed, her contempt for the practice evident. “It’s not something I take pride in.”

IC: Jeizmel, Streets of Atero

"Of course we are."

Her own grimace, her world-weary tone despite her obvious young age, spoke more eloquently than her words could have. The trade with the Bone Hunters - apparently they weren't even mentioning the specific word in public, which was... fair - was an ugly blight on the honour that the Ice Tribe should have been standing for. Ice, at its best, was the purest of all the elements, and it was that standard to which Jeizmel felt inclined to hold her tribe.

Which was apparently 'bad for business' these days.

"Me, either. Though for what it's worth, Metus hates me now for interfering with that whole thing."

That was something that she could take pride in, at least. Even if it hadn't worked out... quite so well as she'd hoped. She shrugged a little.

"So I'm... not very welcome in Iconox right now."

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IC: Skyra Daring - Red Star Inn  -

"Hey, Skyra, long time!"

Skyra's attention was quickly focused on her fellow Jungle Glatorian, "Oh hey, what's up?" There was two of them in fact, the girl definitely seemed familiar enough for Skyra to recognize, the male not as much. Either way it was curious how they were all suddenly so interested in coming over, the driver glanced at Del. Yeah it was definitely him they were really interested in, that was obvious. This had to do with Ferrum, no doubt. Skyra didn't have a huge amount of interest in it herself, but if Del was going to be her client...

"I desire to leave." 

Well that settled it, Skyra gave a quick nod to Karak. It was getting too crowded, even for a social butterfly like herself.

"I think the usual rate should be fine." Skyra suddenly said to both Del and the two Agori guardsmen. "Shall we get going?"

 

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IC: Maxas and Lutenus (Atero, Red Star Inn) - Suspicion

Oh, of course they knew each other - and it was clear that simply asking wasn’t going to work. “I see I’ve caught you at a bad time - perhaps we’ll speak later?” After all, he knew well where they were going…

Maxas crept into the inn, took up a solitary booth near the entrance, and scanned the barroom for this Iron Glatorian Dornak spoke of…

There. The feckless pawn of Vulcanus spoke true. This one was out and about in Atero while all contact with their tribe was lost? This was suspicious.

An influx of Jungle Glatorian near them - what was that all about?

@Snelly @oncertainty @Techn0geist @Morgan Yu

 

IC: Vraek (Streets of Atero) - Impurity of Ice

What?! A thousand curses! No - TEN thousand! How dare they-

Restraining her anger, Vraek shifts focus to Jeizmel. “I… I am sorry. Truly. But there’s nothing I can do for you. Metus won’t listen to me… it seems nobody does. Vraek added, bitterly - though this referred to her anti-cybernetic views.

“This foolishness will pass, I promise. I trust you’ve found some refuge in the meantime?”

@That Matoran with a Vahi

 

IC: Skrall (Roxtus, Stables) - Resistance Is Mandatory

Skrall and Skrall with an unusual physique was assisting. Food. Water. Spare armour and armaments. Repair tools for both carriage and occupants…

Prisoner was resisting. Skrall calmly set down the box he was carrying, and drew his weapons. There was conflict over the appropriate course of action. Why? Was it not known?

He knew why. He just did not like why.

“Skrall must not relinquish Skrall’s weapons, but Skrall must still take them from Skrall, shield included.” He said, fully serious. “The renegades will take it from Skrall nonetheless, so it is best for Skrall to take it, so it need not be replaced, instead repurposed.”

@oncertainty @Vezok's Friend @BULiK @a goose @Nato G @Burnmad

 

IC: Taldrix (Bone Hunter Stronghold) - I’m Getting Takeout

And then, Taldrix was alone.

Like always.

She visited the stores of the stronghold to get a measly sum of food and drink for their little quarantine patient, and then, with that in hand, went back to check on the Aula Agoria. She better not be dying already - that would be very inconsiderate.

Perhaps… a little hit of Spice? Just before - no, not in front of her. Don’t want the item getting any ideas.

@a goose

 

IC: Xyde (Precipere, Outside Somok’s Hut) - Fooling Yourself

Right then. Xyde finished up being sorry for themself and trudged over to Somok’s place.

They hoped that this business with Ferrum wasn’t anything serious. It was unusual, yes, to lose all contact with one of the big five - Roxtus didn’t and would never count without a drastic change in management - but many smaller tribes often had to stop sending envoys for one reason or another. Maybe it was just they didn’t feel like sending envoys, or participating in the Games?

No, no, something calamitous had happened, and whether they helped out or not, those Fire Tribe idiots would commit grievous crimes against logic and reason to blame Precipere for it.

They hung outside the big boss hut, applying their distinct rhythmic knocking to the door.

@Nato G @Geardirector

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IC: Somok - Precipere 

"Yes?" Came the voice from within the hut, the word accompanied by a stifled yawn. 

Upon stepping inside Xyde would find the hut sparse and spartan, devoid of decorations or displays. A rickety rocking chair sat by the open window, a matted mattress lay against the far wall, several shelves piled with parchment and stone tablets were propped against the wall on one side, and storage cupboards for food and belongings were against the other. A simple wooden desk with two chairs on either side was in the middle of the room, the stains and score marks on its surface indicating it was used as much for preparing food as it was for paperwork. 

The latter purpose was what the desk was currently being used for. Somok was slouched over a tablet, scratching away at its surface with a rusty chisel. 

@Toru Nui

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On 2/27/2023 at 7:05 PM, Nato G said:

IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables

"You think the Bone Hunters will let you keep it?" He scoffed. He raised his left hand, aiming and activating his electromagnet implant in an attempt to pull the shield from the disgraced Skrall's hand. If you won't surrender it, then I'll just have to take it.

IC: Skrall [Roxtus, Stables]

There were a lot of words in lieu of action. Focus on words drew focus from reality.

The pull on Skrall's shield was strong. Resisting would sap his power. So Skrall charged, intent on plowing into Skrall shieldfirst.

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IC:

Well, wasn't this just great.

Not only was he back here, here in the sweltering, bloated corpse of industry, not only was he escorting an angry sonofabitch who could break his neck without snapping a sweat, not only was he losing money with every passing second – sure, he had money already, but he would have had more – no, not only that, but he had also been kicked out of the ****** room.

Hey Metus, you're really bringing down the vibe in here, so ****** off, would you?

Oh, quite agreed, Mr. Crotchety Old Dickwipe I Only Just Met. Metus, go fetch us a coffee, you useless sack of sh-

It wasn't a word-for-word recounting. So what? The old man couldn't have given it straight if he tried – and, from what Metus' little birdies had gleaned, it would certainly seem he never had – which left Metus himself, the glorious narrator of his own consciousness, to theatrically cast off the thick veil of subtext. All for your benefit, of course.

You're ****** welcome, you ungrateful swine.

Maybe you want to know what actually happened, he thought accusatorily, accosting the fictive audience of his own imagining. I bet you're just as bored as I am, sitting out here while all the interesting stuff goes on inside. Probably thinking I'm a pretty pointless protagonist, not even getting to go where the action is.

Au contraire, my friend. See, everything that happens in there has already been decided. So maybe you miss out on the conversation itself – and even there I'm doing you a favour, unless you're really that eager to hear Raanu drone on, in which case you're frankly beyond saving – but the important part? That all happened earlier.

And you can bet I was there, making sure it all went my way.

*    *    *    *    *

"This is not what was agreed."

"It's what's happening."

The two Agori stood just inside the gates of the Stronghold, next to Metus' Thornatus. Crucius hefted a sack almost as tall as he was onto the back of the vehicle, without once making eye contact. "And there was no agreement; you made a demand. He's refusing it."

As the Bone Hunter moved to board the vehicle, Metus stepped into his way. "I'm taking on a lot of risk here, the least your boss could do is- Good Lords, what is that stench?"

"A gift for Raanu. Call it a peace offering." The 'gift' in question smelled – describing it generously – like rancid, sun-dried roadkill, grilled to perfection and then left to char a couple days longer for good luck, or perhaps to smoke out those few maggots that hadn't already sprouted wings and ****** off.

"I'm sure he'll be delighted," the Ice Agori rebuffed, his nostrils wrinkling in disgust. "We're not done talking about this."

"Yes, we are. Now, are you going to move, or will I have to move you?"

Crucius flexed the pistons in his forearm; Metus stood aside.

"Wise choice."

"Have I ever mentioned how much I admire your negotiating strategy? You really have an aptitude for-"

"Just. Drive."

*    *    *    *    *

Past the window, the lava continued to flow, and Raanu stood still. Before him, bathed in the soft orange glow of the meeting chamber, was the dark wood table; beyond it, the man with the metal arm, and upon it, the body of the girl he had called his niece, still clad in her orange armour, now blackened by the fires into which Crucius had cast her.

Suddenly, and more acutely than ever before, Raanu truly felt old. Here he stood, having outlived two generations of Somnii’s family. Here he stood, looking down upon her corpse.

“Please, cover her up.”

“Very well.” With surprising delicacy, Crucius laid the white sheet over her once again; her wrist still poked out from beneath, and Raanu took it gently in his hand. As he tucked it away, his expression was at first inscrutable, and then steel. Out of sight, out of mind – there was business to attend to.

“I imagine Metus told you why I summoned you here.”

“Just about. Though I have to admit, I’m not really sure what your expedition to Ferrum has to do with me.”

“Ideally? Very little.” He looked Crucius directly in the eyes. The Bone Hunter did not flinch away. “Iron Canyon is dangerous enough to traverse already, especially with these rumours of plague. I want your guarantee that the scouting party will be allowed to pass without any altercations with your people.”


Crucius raised an eyebrow. “If you mean my clan, then I swear on my honour that they will not interfere. But ‘my people’ are Gatherers – they don’t answer to me, only to their own clan leaders.”

“What about the Ghost? Do they answer to him?”

Crucius blinked, and then smiled with lips pulled taut as an elastic band. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. There's no such thing as ghosts.”

Raanu returned the smile, though his own was far more relaxed. “Nevermind, then. My mistake. Still, I’m sure you can contact the other leaders on my behalf – it would be an awful shame were violence to break out in the canyon. People might begin jumping to conclusions.”

“Such as?”

“Well, they may find themselves wondering whether the Bone Hunters had something to do with whatever has befallen Ferrum and her Tribe. Since you seem so intent on preventing us from reaching them.”

The elastic snapped back into a smirk. “You’re not nearly as foolish as Metus made you out to be. I’ll do my best, but there’s no guarantees the other clans will fall in line.”

“That’s all I can ask.” On instinct, Raanu extended his hand to shake Crucius’; cold metal embraced it, and he could not stop his face from falling as he realised the Bone Hunter could now pulverise his bones with hardly a thought. Crucius recognised the expression, and chuckled darkly as he released the elder’s hand.

“Be seeing you, Raanu.”

Lords, I certainly hope not.

*    *    *    *    *

Once Metus and Crucius were gone, Ackar and a stenographer were summoned to Raanu’s meeting chamber. By sunfall, word had reached every major village:

Vulcanus was calling for able-bodied Glatorian, to take the suicidal trek through Iron Canyon and discover Ferrum’s fate. If they survived, they would be well-compensated; in the likely event that they did not, their family would receive the reward in their stead.

Interested parties had two days to reach the Fire Tribe village and sign on.

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IC: Selamat: Vulcanus

It was quite possible that Selamat's name was the first on the list.

He stepped out of the building where the roster was being created, a look of resolve evident on his face. This was what he'd been waiting for. A chance to utilize the skills he'd been honing his whole life. A chance to prove himself.

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IC: Gayle – Vulcanus Streets

The huntress had been idling in Vulcanus for two days, waiting for parts to be delivered to the garage that was currently in the process of patching up her Cendox after her last mission.

The Vorox tribe had decidedly not taken kindly to her traipsing through their territory and dragging off their leader. The trader who’d lost three caravans to their ambushes, on the other hand, had been appreciative enough to pay Gayle a little extra to help cover the repair bill for her vehicle.

What her pay didn’t cover, however, was the time she was wasting wandering around town instead of heading out on another mission. At least, she’d thought she was wasting time until word suddenly came down that Raanu was putting together a mission to investigate the fate of Ferrum.

Now, Gayle had a very lucrative reason to stick around.

She set off into the city streets in search of the place to sign up. 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

IC: Skrall – Roxtus Stables

For a man who was said to have abandoned his allies to die, the disgraced warrior was putting up far more of a fight than Skrall had expected. With the shield coming to him in a way he very much didn’t want, he deactivated his implant and sprung to the side to avoid the charge… and then he backed away, still not reaching for his own weapons.

For the first time in his life, Skrall didn’t know what he was supposed to do. His instincts and instructions were contradicting each other, and try as he might, he couldn’t find the middle ground.

He was under attack.

He was trained to kill attackers.

But he’d been ordered to deliver this attacker to the Bone Hunters.  

And the Bone Hunters wouldn’t pay them anything for a corpse or a cripple.

The Special Forces Skrall was ordering them to let the prisoner keep his shield.

But the prisoner clearly couldn’t be transported safely until he was disarmed and restrained.

Yet it was equally clear that he wasn’t going to surrender his shield and weapons without a fight.

Skrall wasn’t strong enough on his own to overpower the prisoner, and his weapons were ill-suited to disabling him without also inflicting injury. So Skrall stayed back, content to let one of the others come up with a plan or make an attempt against the disgraced warrior. At least this way, if the goods were damaged it wouldn’t be his fault.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

@a goose @BULiK @oncertainty @Vezok's Friend @Burnmad @Toru Nui

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IC: Skrall - Roxtus Stables

As Skrall dove out of the way and allowed once-Skrall to charge past him, Skrall changed the course of his strafe-- not to move in and assist Skrall, but to get between once-Skrall and the exit. There was no risk of once-Skrall evading an entire city of Skrall and escaping into the wastes, but there was a danger to the group's honor if they allowed once-Skrall to step foot outside of the stables.

He drew his main-gauche out of his cloak, holding it alongside his sword as he taunted the deserter. "You will fetch little from the Bone Hunters if you go to them without all of your limbs. Cease your resistance, and salvage what little honor you have left. This is the last hope you have to be of service to the Black Legion."

@BULiK @Nato G @oncertainty @Toru Nui @Vezok's Friend

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IC: Del - Red Star Inn, Atero

On 3/1/2023 at 7:40 AM, Morgan Yu said:

"I desire to leave."

For the first time, Mard and Karak were on the same wavelength. He nodded firmly at Ahmoa, who returned the gesture, the two hopping off their stools and preparing to leave.

On 3/1/2023 at 1:35 PM, Snelly said:

"I think the usual rate should be fine. Shall we get going?"

Further music to the duo's ears. "A splendid idea, Miss Daring." Ahmoa said, pulling a coin purse from his belt and pouring about half more than 'the usual rate' for desert travel out, beckoning for Skyra's hand and folding the coinage into her grip. He lowered his voice to a steely whisper.

"That's an increase on your fee. It seems there are parties in our midst with a vested interest in our friend, and you..." he glanced down at her twin katanas, "...would appear to be a warrior, as well as a driver. We'd join your travels in an escort capacity but..."

"We don't kid ourselves about how bad we are at fightin'," Mard finished not-so-tactfully. "We ain't even proper guardsmen, we started out in a theatre troupe."

Ahmoa heaved a sigh. "...thank you, dear. In any case, should the interested parties prove to hold malicious intent, I trust you will provide your client with not only transport but protection, in an... aggressive capacity-"

"Wait, uhh, Ahmoa?" Mard chimed in anticlimactically, just now noting the amount of coinage his partner just gave Skyra. "How are we paying for this 'increase on her fee', exactly?"

"It's coming out of your dessert fund," the crimson guard responded, without looking or missing a beat.

Caught. It was impressive for a Tesaran to blush that red amidst so much green. However, he could see Ahmoa's lips curl into a rare cheeky grimace, and felt the heat drain from his face.

"Del!" Ahmoa called to get the Iron Tribal's laser-focused attention away from the cyborg, Mard waving to the same end.

Their head twisted abruptly to stare at the duo instead, their analytical mind seeming to settle after a brief moment. "Mard. Ahmoa."

The two couldn't help but smile. "It's time you set out, Del," Ahmoa said warmly.

"To 'find Celrys'," Mard added with a wink.

"To find Celrys," Del repeated, joining the Agori, Skyra and Karak. The corners of their lips began to twitch upward ever so-

Find Celrys, he's your...

The Glatorian seemed to slip back into a fugue state, once again mindlessly parroting the voice in their head with a face totally void of cognition.

"find celrys he's your father i suppose." Del monotoned just loud enough for the four of them.

The corners of Ahmoa's smile dropped slightly.

Mard's smile vanished entirely, feeling as though he'd been punched in the chest.

 

OOC: @Morgan Yu @Snelly

Edited by Techn0geist
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The Writer Formerly Known as Zeal
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IC/ Skrall/ Roxtus/ Stables/

Skrall had watched the scene unfold from her spot behind and to the side of the confrontation, half obscured by the wagon she’d helped to load. When it became clear their cargo was committed to being unreasonable, she stepped away from the cart, just far enough to have a clear view and quietly waited for an opening. Trying to run the other legionnaire over with his shield provided one. As one more appeal to reason was being voiced, she widened her stance, lifted her arm and fired her grappling hook cable at the disgraced skrall’s legs, ready to yank him off his feet. 

Hopefully that’d put a quick, non-lethal end to this. He was gonna wind up tied up anyway.
 

OOC: @BULiK @Burnmad @oncertainty @Toru Nui @Nato G @a goose

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IC: Salwa (Precipere)

Gatog was not in a good mood when I came to see him. The Tribe's other Beast Minders had gotten tired of trying to keep some sort of peace between him and the rest of our mounts, so he was not getting much, if any company whenever he had to stay in his den. That, in turn, made him anxious and ornery whenever I wasn't around.

I stood at the den's fence with him poking his head over it to be within reach. He was at least glad to see me, but the fact that I couldn't be everywhere at once was really becoming a liability. I just wished I could have had somebody else to talk to about how you took care of these creatures...

I would have to consider taking him out for a ride just to give him some movement in a bit, but for now I could leave him calmed down with having gotten a visit.

My equipment was in as good a condition as I could hope to make it. It was time to get back and discuss with Somok. I headed in that direction.

OOC: @Nato G @Toru Nui

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IC: Lorqua - Red Star Inn

Something was going on, something that Lorqua and Lutenus were clearly not privy to. Lorqua felt like she had an itch. An itch that she just couldn't scratch, because it was inside her skull. Still, it was important to be polite, wasn't it?

She cast a quick glance at Lutenus, her unlikely ally in this case. It was clear he wanted to know too, perhaps just as badly as she did. She'd follow his lead. For now, at least. He had to right, that they could speak later. Everyone was going to Tajun. Even Lorqua, to the surprise of herself from mere minutes ago. But this was getting interesting, perhaps interesting enough to make it all worth it.

"Hey uh, if you all need to leave pressingly that is what it is; but don't do it on Lutenus' and my account, we're not here to mess with anyone."

She certainly wasn't, Lorqua just couldn't help herself from wanting to know. Lutenus, well, she couldn't say for sure.

OOC: @Toru Nui @Morgan Yu @Snelly @Techn0geist

 

IC: Skrall - Outside Roxtus Stables

Having drawn his weapon, Skrall circled. The not-quite-still-a-prisoner just couldn't be fighting in every direction at once. If they really wanted to solve the issue they could all just pile on; it would solve the problem. But Skrall knew Skrall, and knew that that kind of thing seemed entirely undignified. Skrall preferred to fight in formation, not just like a brutal mob. Leave that to Bone Hunters and Southerners. Skrall with the grappling hook seemed to have the right idea, so he poised himself ready to spring. The erstwhile prisoner would be off-balance from the grappling hook, if it didn't take him down completely.

OOC: @Vezok's Friend @BULiK @Burnmad @Nato G @Toru Nui @a goose

 

IC: Escus - Vulcanus Streets

Escus had found his way east from Tajun, despite the games about to start. He was drawn as if by a need, a compulsion. He told himself it was a chance to work his way upwards, and he believed it well enough.

A keen observer though, if they spoke to Escus for a long time, drew out those things that he didn't say even to himself, would have been left with the impression that he would have travelled to Vulcanus, put his name on that list, no matter what he told himself.

No such observer walked with Escus today, though. He had left Tajun without a word to anyone. Not that he thought he was doing anything that he didn't have a right to do: it would be wrong to stop him. It was just that, at the bottom of things, he had to do it.

Edited by oncertainty
I wanted a mission, and for my sins, they gave me one
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IC: Karak - Red Star Inn

The energy's dislodged. I only catch a single word from the orange one - "Father". To me, it means nothing. Faces around shift and drop. The air feels cloudy. It stabs at me like brambles.

Skyra returns my earlier sentiment - and so I watch for her look. Cargo is her first priority. Not mine. Any difficulty created is her burden.

OOC: @oncertainty@Toru Nui@Techn0geist @Snelly

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“No. Sorry, kid, that’s the one thing you can never do.”

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IC: Wolf (Atero; Red Star Inn)

“I am Serrat.” She realised, after a moment, that she might need to elaborate; hesitantly, she cleared her throat. “My people live in hiding; it is up to me to bring home the resources they need to live.”

Then her brow furrowed. “How soon must you go west?”

OOC: @Wotz

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IC: Dune Wolf (Red Star Inn)

"Yesterday, ideally." Dune leaned back, sizing her up. Serrat, was it? He might've heard of such a tribe, if the gin weren't already beginning to cloud his memory. But it seemed the Glatorian and he had some common ground. Maybe they could stroke some kind of a... Strike some kinda...

He eyed the glass. The black stuff was stronger than he remembered. He swallowed some more.

"You help me help me my people, and your... people will be helped." He cleared his throat forcefully. "As in, the Bone Hunters. Have money."

OOC: @a goose

Edited by Wotz
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