A scene in which Karelin tries to make friends by exploding people, and Agril is filled with undead-zappy holyrage.

Title by Calamity.

 

 

Calamity's Nefarious Lair

 

OH NOES.

 

Contents:

 

Calamity

 

Obvious exits:

 

Out <O>

                                             

 

    The continuing fighting out and about Fort Gettys continues, with sorties and engagements about the region, yet with no commitment of troops for the anticipated decisive battle. Some aerial battles have taken place, to establish dominance in the skies, with little progress aside from some suicidal (and posthumously commended) attacks by adventuring irregulars.

 

One of the hills around the plain near Fort Gettys was one such site of interest in the escallating battle. A battery, situated on a broad cliff with ramparts and towers fired periodically upon allied Airships. It had already claimed a small Aerial Sloop just last week. And under the cover of darkness, a small group is dispatched to neutralize the well-defended position, and it's cannons.

 

    At the head of a small mounted party, with some wagons pulled, Colonel Strangeways, a lumpy-looking pudgy-faced man pulled at his whiskers, lifting his sword a moment to signal a stop. "We've arrived."

 

So Agril is hunkered down in one of these wagons, yes. He leans out, slowly, when he hears the word from Colonel Strangeways. The priest, his heavy armor covered in a dark cloak at the moment, leans out and scans the hill and its towers and ramparts, a spyglass held up to an eye. He only takes a quick look, though, lest the glint from the glass in any sort of light indicate their approach. 

 

"Looks like this is where we get started, then," says Agril.

 

Srassha's heavy footfall draws to a halt. Her rider stops to adjust the quiver tied to it, while, impatiently, she starts to chew on the bit. Her heavy tail's still, and the eyes fixed forward. It all tells of her suicidal wish to rush in, to take the enemy in jaws. Of such things the jungle's made, and in her anticipation, drool starts down the side of the modified snaffle bit, congealing, then drizzling onto the grass in a wartime seasoning. Whatever's wrong with the quiver--her rider tugs at it, jerking it back into place with a sudden, though quiet creak of leather, and looks forward, a quiet breath at the priest's statement. "...alright. Lead on, then, Agril. We'll do our best to stay with you."

 

Chandrakanta barely pulls the reins on her stallion. She glances to make certain no one has lagged behind on the journey. A brow raises when Darshan speaks.

 

The Colonel continues to play with his exquisite whiskers, before stroking the rest of his beard. "Now, please. Hold up. There is plenty of time to demonstrate your valor, oh yes." he adds, seemingly absentmindedly, as he signals to the men with the wagon carts and pack animals. They begin to pull down the various canvas coverings, to reveal sets of steel ramps, with some terrible looking metal cylinder stuck to each.

 

"As you all know, the defenses of Gorgon Point are quite formidable, with large walls and multiple towers allowing easy fire down the hill, and a steep cliff from the opposite side. But we know there to be few defenders, by virtue of their advantageous position. Our scheme is to make use of these... sleds... so thoughtfully provided by my engineering company." he smiles, looking across to the bunch. "If you bypass the walls, fields of fire and soforth entirely, why, your chances of success with a minute force look remarkably good, ain't that so?" he asks, producing a pipe and polishing it lightly with his gloves.

 

Finished with her cavorting through enemy lines elsewhere in the battles that have been shaping the land, Kylie has returned to meet another dispatch. This one happening to reunite her with cozy comrades, motivating her mood. She's sitting high atop Mister Starsparkle Fantastic, each hoofstep sparking faint trails of rainbow blurs and silent sparks. Its his special magical horseshoes, see, they're very pretty. The little gunslinger is keeping a squinty eye out on the westernly direction, hair piled messily on her head in loose bun. "Sleds sound fun!" Her high-pitched voice peeps enthusiastically. "...fields of fire, not so much."

 

Roland , as someone who doesn't keep a horse or even regularly rent one to ride, opts to ride along in the wagon with Agril. He pokes his head out and studies what he can of the fortifications as the good colonel goes on, then turning. "Sleds? Is there some reason for sleds rather than sapping the walls?"

 

Chandrakanta stares at the sleds as if she's never even considered an object like that. "How do they work?" She asks, leaning over at the nearest rider to her.

 

Srassha's long legs tremble--she shuffles sideways at an abrupt correction. The jaw quivers, quivers...of course it does. And if she had her head--the body language shows just how difficult she's being. Just how much she wants to run, to cover ground.

 

Her rider, now so much.

 

He looks tired, sleepy, quietly irritated as he twists the rein in hand. "Sleds?" he asks, after a quiet pull. Srassha settles, and he starts to get out of the saddle.

 

"Wait, what?" See, Agril totally had this idea of what he was going to do. It was going to be heroic! Glorious! Awesome! Then? Then there are sleds. He stops. He looks at the 'sleds'. He stares at them. "What...exactly are you planning on having us do?"

 

Karelin has arrived.

 

"I would indeed like to see how you'd find a way to get close to those walls without eating a hail of bolts and balls and worse things, Mister Roland." The Colonel chuckles, biting on his pipes a moment. Then, he pauses a second. "Ah, yes. It nearly slipped my mind. Your goal is to take those batteries mounted there out of action after being projected over the walls." he gestures vaguely in the direction of the cliff face, and the small fort atop of it. "We'll be having a ship passing through here oh..." he lazilly pulls out a pocketwatch. "...in the morning, to ambush any of those clumsy Ogre barges, should they try to retreat this way, hoping for friendly ground support."

 

At Chandra's inquiry, the Colonel looks over. "Ah, simple. They have artifice devices, embedded within triggered to generate quite impressive winds. Gale force, even, to propel the winged things forwards. Control may be a little tricky, but no problem for an esteemed bunch such as yourself. And oh, I nearly forgotten once again.." he pulls out something from his pocket. A ring of small, glowing orbs. "You'll need these to destroy the guns."

 

Darshan...looks down. He's going to...

 

Fly.

 

And sometimes, there are brownouts, whiteouts. Times when the brain shuts down. This is one of those times.

 

"I...see." ...because. Because, he really can't think of a thing else /to/ say.

 

The Colonel looks pleased, and hops off his horse. He puffs on his pipe, though it is not lit. "Excellent. Now, each sled will carry two of you. Miss Kylie can be stowed aboard one in a bag or somesuch. Mister Darshan, you'll be riding alone, I think. I wouldn't want to strain those wings on the craft, they're remarkably delicate." Strangeways continues, looking to see who wants to take the glowing packet of arcane explosives.

 

Rather instinctively, protectively, Kylie places her hands on the gun holsters at her hips. Mentions of 'destroying guns' and items that could break them tended to do that for the petite pistoleer. She frowns, "That ring thingy... it can't hurt *my* guns, right? It needs to be, um, activated magically or something?" Somehow, she's unconcerned about flying around on sleds through walls of protectiles and fields of fire. That was Kylie for you.

 

Darshan. Keeps staring numbly at the guns.

 

...'Fly.' Keeps echoing in his head. And not in a good way. "...nrrng."

 

"I see." Chandra begins to count and figure out who she's going to ride along with. "We should try to balance the weight on those things.." She doesn't sound convinced this will be the easiest way to get to the destination.

 

Roland frowns, "They have some sort of blowing device? That's...That's...Do we know if they have any other alarms that would perhaps pierce veils of invisibility?"

 

Karelin speaks up from the back. "Templars always could, Roland. Its not safe."

 

"Mister Roland, we've noted the presence of mages in all major enemy installations. They know our familiarity with arcane magicks. We've had assaults fall to such preparations before. Only through audacity, and our superior innovation may we prevail." the Colonel remarks with stiff upper lip. "Though, if you believe you have some other means of entry, by all means enlighten us with your daring and reckless adventurer ways." he adds in, checking his timepeice again. "And Miss Kylie, your firearms will be most safe from harm, provided all goes well."

 

Roland looks back to Karelin and frowns, "Pity...Hmm, I've never heard of a personal airship or sled before -- this should prove interesting."

 

"If by 'interesting', you mean 'dear Daeus please let this work', then yes, it will be interesting," says Agril, calmly. For his part, despite the way he is eyeing the 'sleds', he seems to be not in the least unsettled by the prospect of dealing with them or taking the proscribed course of action. "Daeus will deliver us so that we might smite our enemy."

 

Karelin waits patiently, considering the sleds. A muscle in his jaw works.

 

"Oh good!" Kylie cheerfully chirps as she slides off Mister Starsparkle Fantastic merrier than a moment before. She gives him a loving nuzzle of her forehead against his muzzle, then pats his neck. "Be good, okay?" As if he understood her instead of being frightened by the little terror. "Father Agril, do you want me to go with you? I will keep you safe." Her tone almost making it seem like she finds that Agril is the weakest link in need of protecting. She means well!

 

Roland chuckles and nods to Agril, "I was thinking more along the lines in that I'm very interested in how we're supposed to survive the trip to tread the Dancer's steps...But yeah." Then turning to colonel, "How fast do these things move? What sort of ETA are we looking at with these things?"

 

"...Daeus deliver us," Darshan lets out a breath when the brain's finished rabbiting off. And he possibly means something else. He straightens and lets out a breath. Srassha ducks her head as he fumbles around for...an object. Something. And pulls out a set of fresh papers, new papers. Taps them against the side of his face. "And mrm, walking? What's the distance walking?" he asks. Adds.

 

Chandrakanta is still reluctant to leave the saddle, staring at the sleds with much doubt in her eyes. She glances at Roland, "I should probably go along with you." She combs her fingers through her horses mane before she hits the ground. "Make sure he gets back to camp, this is the finest horse my Father trained."

 

"Why, Kylie. Your concern for me is duly noted. I suppose keeping you and Darshan seperate is a wise plan. Your tendencies to trip over one another is a hard thing to ignore concern about in this sort of scenarion." Agril smiles cheerfully, then he nods towards the others. "I amready. Let us hope we do not get much seperated."

 

"Are we ready then?" Strangeways asks. "And who will carry the explosives?" he still holds the glowing string of orbs. "They'll explode oh... some seconds after a hard impact against something. Just throw them down the cannon's maw, and that should be sufficient." he notes, most casually, waving at the men to prepare each sled for riders.

 

A pause, then: "I'm here if something goes wrong," from the sith'makar. "With all respect, Colonel, I'm mrm, not the best with thrown weaponry. She is," he nods to Kylie. And it's true. He couldn't hit the broadside of a barn. "But if mrm, she falls, or someone shoots, I plan on being there to back her up."

 

Roland turns, blinking a bit before giving a brief nod to Chandrakanta. "All right." He pauses then starts chanting for a moment, closing his eyes while reaching for a small tube which he opens slightly greyed eyes to read the incantation from a scroll before his eyes take on a slightly red hue before looking back to the sled, "Oohhh, Dancer be with us.." he mutters.

 

"Averium light the way." Chandra eyes the explosive. She's not touching that either. She takes the crossbow off the saddle of her horse and begins to move towards the sled. "I hate this sort of thing.." She's already got an opinion.

 

"Those are expensive!" The colonel notes, apparently without noting the danger of such action. "I would advise using them right at the mouth of the weapons, for maximum effect, lest you miss." he hands the pile to the Korite. "Now, are we prepared?" he asks, one last time.

 

Karelin steps up, taking the explosives carefully. He tucks them away. "I will try hard not to miss, then." He nods.

 

"Oh, don't be silly, Father Agril. We just do that to lure the enemy into underestimating us. It's totally a tactic!" The little gunslinger says while rummaging through her pack to pull out a small horn that shimmers with its own light. "I can do it!" Kylie does pipe in when hearing that she's volunteered for explosives duty. "I mean, I could... but if things get really bad, I need to keep distance and stealthy and all. I might not be able to make it close..." She glances over at Agril as if he was being used as a liability again, then nods when Karelin's handed the boombooms. "Karelin's better at that. He probably would survive having them all blow up in his backpack anyway."

 

Roland blinks and does a double take on Kylie, "How on Ea do you manage stealthy with those little boom-boom sticks?"

 

    And well! Before you all know it, you're bent over, hanging for dear life on the handrails of the winged air-sleds. The Colonel pulls down his goggles, and signals his men to look away as a gnomish engineer that tagged along pulls out a little box, pushing buttons at it. With sickening THUMPS, each sled leaps into the air, propelled by a tornado of force behind. The sleds twisting in the air as they fly off, the frail wooden wings buckling and shuddering under the forces presented. But wow! As you climb, you can see everything illuminated under the low light of dusk. The little sleds are surprisingly controllable, with handles guiding the angle of each wing like a gliding bird. All appears well. At least, until you reach the apex of your boost. With the wind-generating engines now off, it's time to glide...

 

So Agril just sort of eyes Kylie. He really does. This, it seems, is more amusing to him than anything else. He takes a moment to make sure his helmet is placed on tightly, securing it in place, and then gets aboard. 

 

"Well. This will either went poorly or *really* poorly. So let's get to it." 

    Somehow, just SOME HOW, the gliders stayed intact as you dove down on the unsuspecting crew of this small fort. As the trajectories of the glide go lower and lower, you find yourselves staring at the wall of the battery, it's crenalated walls and batteries. The first glider with Roland at it's head skims over the top, just in time to slide along the stone walls. The second, Darshan's does much of the same, though his great bulk seems to crush the poor glider beneath him on impact. And the last, with Agril at it's head finally cuts in, twisting a little at near landing, and having a wing get clipped right off by the walls. It's occupants are scattered through into the fort courtyard, off the walls. Yet miraculously, only Roland seems to have somehow found a way to hurt himself, with an irritating wooden splinter in his hand.

 

    The Fort is roughly isocoles triangle-shaped, with the thin side overhanging that rock cliff you've just flown over. At the point, higher than the rest you could see a pair of large, magitechnickal artillery cannons, pointed at the sky. The underground magazine was there. On your side, built into the walls were barracks for the Hobgoblin and Ogre soldiers staffing the place. At first glance, perhaps only a few token sentries were on duty. They no doubt were stirring from that odd sound and commotion, looking from the pointed cannon prow back over to the courtyard and other surrounding walls.

 

Kylie, stuffed within a bag to look like a lump of mutton, suddenly sways hard from left to right and left again as the sled zooms down across pathways unseen. This was a lot more terrifying and exciting when you couldn't see what was going on. "WEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" She peals with outright cheer, which is so unnecessary considering the situation. Only when things have seemed to stop, and she pauses to make sure that she's alive, does she ask in a muffle through the material, "....are we there yet?"

 

Roland grits his teeth, shaking his hand for a moment before squinting to squeeze out a sliver of, something or other...it's quickly thrown down and stomped a bit for it's annoyance before drawing his bow. "That's what I get for trusting technology over a wyvern's wing I reckon."

 

Darshan...could hug the ground. He could hug it. He has that sublime, happy look to him, that shining relief that says, 'My god, I just survived something an engineer made. And I did not crash.' He doesn't notice the sentries at first. He doesn't. He's just too happy. And to heck that the glider's crushed underneath, or destroyed. "Hehehe." Yes. 'Hehehe.'

 

When no one is watching, Chandra double checks there is a ring on her finger. After all, this thing is going to fall out of the sky at some point, all things that fly do. Fortunately, the pilot seems to be doing a good job. The Veyshanti picked well with which sled to join. At least until it gets to the part where they land. The bump, she glances at the pilot, "You alright?" Her concern seems more like a courtesy, she wants to move.

 

Karelin picks himself up from behind Agril, where, naturally, he'd been asked to ride. He unlimbers his warblade, checks the explosives with a pat, then tries to orient himself at to the location of the batteries. That he's got a giant grin on his face is pure accident. After all, he just got to fly first class to a fight.

 

Well. Agril does his best to steer the contraption. He flails a bit, having no idea for sure what he's doing, but eventually they touch down the ground and relatively in tact. Personally, that is. 

 

 "...well, then," is Agril's next uttered phrase, still seeming a bit unsteady on his feet. His hand immediately goes to his hip for his sword's hilt. "...well, then," he repeats, "I suppose its time to join battle."

 

"Gyah!" comes a noise, as a one of the sentries notes, with alarm, that some kind of crazy flying sled seems to have run over one of the goblin sentries, and now has his leg trapped under some crazy wind-producing engine. A band of sentries rush from the gun station, to look at what happened. With darkvision, they turn and then seem to spot strange figures about! Rushing with three on the far wall, and a squad at the courtyard below, they charge the out of place adventurers!

 

The Hobgoblins meanwhile, beset Karelin with pikes and stabbing instruments, all of them ganging up on the ruffian! Three break off, two for the priest and one for that little, tasty-looking thing that came out of the bag. Not too bright, they are.

 

Karelin's head turns inside of his helmet, and he grins ferally at the hobgoblin troopers opposing him. Its entirely unclear if he counts the numbers, since he lumbers towards them eagerly, all matte-black adamantite armour, complete with trails of mana spilling from his Korite pauldrons, and a molten-metal warblade. Arriving like a train, his first downright blow catches a trooper on the left collarbone, and exits through his right hip, leaving a trail of destruction and seared flesh in its wake. Blood spatters on him, and the surrounding troopers, even as he flows back into a defensive stance.

 

    As the divided ruins of the corpse fall to the ground, he starts to sing in a low voice.

 

The Poor things are terribly outclassed. Terribly. One of them trips on his own Halebard while charging for Agril.

 

Ironic, Chandra bitches about flight and there she goes. Crossing the distance in the air to get to the other side of the parapet.

 

Princes aren't the only ones who learned how to give grand, inspiring speeches. However, they probably don't proclaim the victory march then like a bard, bravely run away to hide...But Roland is a bard and not a prince of the realm, so that's the tactic he chooses -- SHoving his bow into the air, "We'll hit 'em high as you strike them low -- Keep chopping them down with each blow!" And bravery briefly exherted, he turns and ducks behind a small set of crates...

 

Kylie struggles to remove the heavy sack material off of her, fussing and squirming to get free. "PFfah!" She sputters as she drinks in fresh air, hair even more mussed up. This brings her face to face with the ugly mug slobbering its way up towards her, sword raised high to impale her as a tasty morsel. "...AHHH!" The little girl screams in surprise as she rolls backward in reverse sommersault just in time. CLANK! The sword hits the sled. Her guns are like a blinding blur, she's already got them drawn while rolling. Click-clink. One pistol in each hand, she raises them both sharply in front of her. BLAM! BLAM! Both shots rip through the beast's chest, and then her wristbands automatically reload her pistols in a meshwork of mechanics. BLAM! The last bullet hits its target: right in the middle of the forehead. The thing drops dead, its advance halted.

 

---------------  At a glance around Calamity's Nefarious Lair  ---------------

 

Karelin           3m 6'2"     232 Lb     Human             Male      

 

    Tattooed Korite warrior. Tall, dark and scarred.                          

 

 

 

Agril             5m 5'7"     142 Lb                                 

 

    A young human in priestly vestments                                       

 

 

 

Kylie            10s 5'5"     103 Lb                                 

 

    Short blonde waif, peppy and ditzy.                                       

 

 

 

Roland            2m 6'3"     220 Lb     Human             Male      

 

    6'3" charismatic man with auburn curls and hazel eyes.                    

 

 

 

Chandrakanta      2m 5'6"     140 Lb     Human/Veyshanti   Gurl      

 

    Dredlocked Veyshanti Averite with ink and blades.                         

 

 

 

Darshan           0s 6'4"     274 Lb     Sith'makar        Male      

 

    Mechagodzilla                                                             

 

 

 

Calamity          5s           Lb                                    

 

    Oh. It's just a cosmic catastrophe. Move along.                           

 

==============================================================================

 

Although the darkness was lifting, the vision of the hobgoblins let them pick out a target on the courtyard below! The group takes up positions, readying their weapons. Two had clumsy firearms, while the last had a large crossbow. They fired a volley for that small thing, the one with the gun that had cut down one of their comrades... A volley lashes out, with the bolt landing it's mark, barely hitting the Gnome.

 

Darshan steps to the edge of the wall, and bends-leg and...drops. A whoosh of air catches underneath, softening the fall and the sith'makar drops to the ground. The armor shhh's, plate against plate, and the tail hits the ground behind. Thud!

 

"FOR MYRRDION," roars Argil. Stealth is definitely not something that is going to be useful to them at this point so he immediately begins going right into the fight with sword and shield. He swiftly bashes one of his attackers in the face with the edge of the shield, using this is as a mere distraction to jam the black, serrated-edged adamantine longsword he holds directly through his breastplate, cutting through the sternum and destroying the poor bastard's heart. 

 

He turns towards the other one, then, shield lifted and held at the ready.

 

Karelin, that ruffian is engaged by the halbardiers, who all swing and thrust madly with their weapons, trying to impale the fellow! With horror, the ruffian seems to swat aside such feeble attempts, as one of them lets out a high pitched shriek! Already, noises emerge from the barracks. Thud. Thud. Could it be... Ogres?

 

He becomes war.

 

Using the momentum of his initial rush, he flows into combat, striking through his opponents, setting aside their blows, and dividing their limbs from their bodies. His swordtip explodes through one back, it shears off anothers' arms, it takes off the top of a head, and it bisects one at the base of the sternum, leaving both halves twitching ineffectually on the ground.

 

Karelin might as well not exist. He's just violence, bloodspattered from head to toe.

 

Chandrakanta doesn't quite set her feet down, she pulls the black short sword. Both hands wrap the hilt as she rushes at the men with their rifles. Spearing one in the gut with the black blade.

 

Roland pops his head up from behind the crates, sighting in his bow before letting loose a flurry of arrows. Crying out a cheer as a foe falls down below..

 

    Out through the barracks now comes a squad of four Ogres, each of them looking pissed. Some were half-clad in armor, waking up in the middle of the night, but they were all very, very angry at being woken up at such an hour. Such no doubt, more than makes up for their lack of armor. At their head, in a dirty Bludgunni Uniform was no doubt the garrison commander, a big bruiser of an ogre, with a great sword in one hand, and a glowing green rod in the other. He acts first, staring at the situation at hand! With few others immediately nearby save Agril and Karelin, he directs his hand out, firing a blast towards the Korite, engaged in combat with one of the expendible Hobgoblins!

 

"Wh--aahh!" Kylie warbles when the vibration of stomping shakes the ground underfoot is met with a shot of bullet grazing her arm from behind her. Ouch. She's been around enough to know what that means: don't stay where feet could smoosh you. She fires off like a firecracker into the air, those faint gossy outlines from her armor appearing like dragonfly wings and leaving a scant trail of blur-shine in her wake. The little gunslinger heads toward Chandra's position now that she's free of the foot soldiers assaulting her. "I'm coming up, Chandraaa!" Their party sure was mixing high ground and low ground combat today.

 

Following the blast of fireball, the Ogres charge forth, moving to destroy their foes! Three move for that big, menacing fellow covered in gore and blood, and one crashes forth, battleaxe swinging for the smaller one of the two.

 The Goblins, beset and with one member down from a fusilade of arrows, look worried. One misses another flaming bolt towards the oncoming gunfighter, while the other twirls about, thrusting forward with his heavy bayonet, the crude cleaver-like end of it driving to attack the charging rogue who stabbed him most severely.

 

Darshan looks up from the land and over towards the ogres, ogres--they thunder, they stomp all across the courtyard and he takes off towards them. The old routine begins, drawing blade, bringing it around--strength over accuracy, and the blade glows, brilliant light--and lands at the ogre mage side. It looks like it should've done more than it did.

"..oh, damn," is what Agril says when he sees the ogres come racing out of the place at him. He does not look terribly happy about this sight and even less happy when they close in on his and Karelin's position. He steps to support the Korite, calling on Daeus. "Daeus! Grant this one the strength to see to his enemies demise! THIS IS FOR SENDOR," he roars, enraged. Whatever he did does seem to have the desired effect, however, on the warrior. His wounds seal.

 

The Stabbygobber at Karelin's side decides wisely to run for the hills.

 

Roland frowns down a the courtyard before unloosing a hurl of arrows, none of which seem to be able to close in on the target...

 

Karelin reels under the combined fury of the ogre's axes, battered and bleeding inside of his coat-of-plate. Straightening up as Daeus' power surges through him, he grins up at the other, flowing back into a window-guard, sheltering under his molten blade. Then, he starts moving to string them out a little bit, sword snaking out to carve a burning, bloody trail across one thigh, and the underside of the ogre's axe-forearm. As the blows drive it to one knee, he steps forwards, -shoving- his sword through the ogre's throat. As he steps back into his guard, the ogre collapses forwards, gurgling in surprise at the blood and burnt taste in its mouth.

 

The bayonet was a bad idea. The Veyshanti pulls the dagger from her belt. And then Chandra begins to slice and dice. Getting intimate with the dagger, she cuts off his nose. The blood wetting the stone parapet. "Which one of you is next.." She asks the gunners as the one falls to the ground in pieces, the words coming across deadpan with her strong accent.

 

    The Adept is angered at being so assaulted, and with one of his own minions cut down too! Sweeping a great hand about to deflect a volley of arrows, he lifts up a hand as Darshan besets him, trying to hold him back as he concentrates to weave a potent spell! Suddenly, the butchered corpse of the downed Ogre twitches, jerking as it's skin bursts from twisting coils emerging, wrapping about it's body with mutated, animate entrails. The Ogre's eyes burst open with hateful, red orbs, as it lurches up unnaturally, tongue malformed into a hideous worm-like appendage.

 

Kylie comes flying in to flank on her warrior-friend's position, steps light as they hit the wall walking. She continues her momentum forward, closing the distance on the crossbowman that shoots harmlessly at her. BLAM BLAM! Her dual spellguns fire over and over again as she closes within melee distance, riddling the goblin with holes that spark and shudder with electricity. Electricity that seizes organs that the bullets pierce, and causing nerve endings to malfunction. The goblin feebly tries to batter his weapon at the pistoleer, but she blocks it with a coss of her arms, then spins around with a twirl of her guns so they're pointing at the beast's chest. BLAM BLAM! He's blown back by the blunt force and electric potency, slamming onto the ground, dead. She looks over at Chandra, giving a brief thumbs-up in 'All Clear' gesture.

 

The Ogre Squad was clearly not discouraged by the loss of one of it's members, instead they continue to hack away, furiously assaulting the Korite, a worthy enemy indeed! One remains on Agril, picking himself up and swinging back with the greataxe!

 

Darshan trades blow for blow--the ogre's sword comes down viciously--he isn't quick enough--but his own blade trades low, and into the symbol hanging there. Which shatters, scattering onto the floor.

 

Karelin stays in his defensive posture, deflecting the worst of the ogres' assaults with his sword. As they attack, he maneuvers to try to tangle his attackers up. Also, he slices into both of the ogre's knees, dropping it to its knees, so that he can catch it in the face with a horizontal cut. He sends it to the ground, bleeding from a swordcut that crushed one cheek, nose, eye and part of the skull behind.

 

Roland stands up from behind the crates, looking to the ogre nose to nose with Darshan before stretching out his hand, "By the dancer's flame, watch the spell-song burn without your name!" As the metaphysical energies swirl and rip away at some of the ogre's enhancements, the bard spins out from behind the crates and takes a quick step before leaping off the ledge, crying out as his descent suddenly slows to a more sedate pace to the ground floor.

 

And so. 

 

Agril steps back from Karelin. He looks at the undead. He just looks at it. "I have seen this sort of thing before. You would dare to raise the dead to face a holy champion of Daeus? You would *dare* to think that one abomination such as this could stand against his Holy Fury?" He raises his hand, light *blazing* around his fist. He holds his hand out, then, palm outstretched as a beam of pure energy *sears* into the undead, roasting its flesh and tempoarily blinding it. 

 

"I think *not*." 

No more up above, Chandra uses her flight to make it down near the battle. Downing some bitter pills, or vial as the case may be, on her way down. Her skin hardening.

 

Boss Ogre is pissed. Swinging around with the greatsword, he dives forward towards his assailant, sweeping the blade down in a powerful series of strikes on the mechanized lizard-fiend!

Kylie turns about on her heels, standing at the edge of the wall, and looking out into the courtyard of dead ogres and some kind of-- "Oh, goddess. What *is* that!" She nearly gags out at the sight of the Adept Undead Beast, verging on shifting into something altogether unworldly. So the gunslinger does what she's used to doing when something huge, ugly, and vicious is harming her friends. Clink-clink! Her guns reloaded, she brings them both up and begins a rainstorm of gunfire from afar. Bullets sear through the air, crackling with electric energy, and burst through rubbery skin with zaps and pops and bzzzzt sounds.

 

the surviving Ogre continue to beat towards Karelin with it's undead former comrade beside it. Overcome by rage, it clearly shows no mercy or horror, intent only on destroying the Korite! Meanwhile, his brother-warrior swings and smashes at Agril as well!

 

The Undead Ogre, twisting and writhing, lashes out with it's powerful fists, and the barbed, twisting tongue. It darts out, stretching what used to be an esophagus to try and strangle Karelin!

 

Darshan winces underneath the blows--the armor deflects all but the worst of them, but the one that gets through sunders, hitting muscle, hitting gut--and skewering armor. Plates hang loose, one falls to the side--he backs away, holding his blade in a defensive posture, up and high and teeth bared.

 

Karelin shfits to an offiensive posture, even as he recoils from the filthy caress of the unliving tongue. Two downright blows crush the undead monstrosity and leave it unmoving in the dirt. He then turns and scythes his sword across the last ogre's thigh, grinning.

 

Roland flexes his knees as he touches down then starts out, striding towards the group with a song on his lips, and with a wave of his arm calls down the healing touch of the Dancer to further bind the troop's wounds.

 

"Be healed, comrades. Be ready for more battle. These fiends will soon be joining their fallen comrades in death." Agril drops his sword, yes, because the only thing he can do now is clutch his holy symbol, a great medallion of the platinum dragon, while continuing to cast spells of healing, yes. Whatever pain he might be feeling is not obvious in his expression.

 

The Averite rushes into the battle, just one hand on her black blade this time. She pushes her way into things agressively. Giving the ogre a hole where there once was none. Its a beginning. "Looked like you could use a hand, Korite.." She speaks to Karelin as tries to distract the ogre.

 

Boss Ogre looks pissed, as his only Henchmen continue to swing at their targets. He lets his foe leave, instead twisting and firing a blast towards the dense concentration of targets, not caring at all about his minions clearly!

 

Kylie grimaces at the adept's grotesque appearance again, but her blue-violet eyes shift sharply at Agril's position under the beating of one of the ogre lackeys. She swings her arms fourty-five degrees to recalibrate aiming at that beast instead, the heal spell drifting over the little waif and sealing up her arm graze completely. "HEY! Ugly bonecruncher! Up here! Pick on someone who can defend themselves!" BLAM BLAM! "Ehhhhhhhhhhhhy!" Ka-blamblamblam! Bullets rain across the gap from the wall to the ogres' position, thundering with the sound of crackling lightning as they slam into flesh.

 

"STAND FAST, COMRADES. Their numbers dwindle. The Lord of the Sun watches over us!" Agril is yelling at the top of his lungs, now, yes, as a good cleric is wont to do. His holy symbol and hands continue to blaze with holy light.

 

The ogre's cry hits the field and the air thunders with it. Darshan looks over, looks over, and--looks at his claws, the armor hanging there. A piece of it falls to the ground as he clenches his fist, and, drawing the sword across, snarls and--charges, throwing his weight at the ogre. It's a solid hit with glowing blade and glowing sword, slicing into the adept's hide and down again.

 

Karelin turns from the wounded ogre, wincing as he does to. He rocks with the axe hit, then barrels in towards the adeptus titanicus, trying to slip (only somewhat successfully) beneath its great sword. He butchers a thigh with a searing hit, though.

 

Roland gives a brief nod in Agril's directions, enjoining his own calls upon Ceinara's gift to add to the healing flow...

 

The Magus steps back slightly, smirking at the devastation his fireball had wrought. And again, he gestures in the air, forming one out of nothing as a blast lights up everyone once more, his own included!

 

Chandrakanta prays aloud, "Averium, guide the edge of my blade." She moves fluidly. The black, adamantine short sword piercing what is vital. Its the does the final blow.

 

With the horrific fireball blast roaring out, the last of the Ogre minions screams out a mighty roar, as the blast incinerates him. As it pulses backwards however, it washes over many members of the party before.... a horrific rumbling emerges from Karelin's kit!

 

Kylie continues unleashing her onslaught of crackling lightning bullets, booming against the riot of war that echoes off the courtyard walls. The little waif's eyebrows narrow sharply down the bridge of her nose, glaring at the ogre that continues to dog Agril. "That's right, keep ignoring me, you inbred nobrainer! I'll drop you from fifty paces without you ever touching me!" And, again, she continues her taunting amid her pistols bursting loud gunshots. Each bullet being auto-reloaded by the mechanism in her wristbands like clockwork. Click, click, whrrrr.

 

From the Blast, Darshan and Karelin, and that Ogre are all thrown about, as burning rock falls all about the cratered floor of the fort. Chaos and smoke all about from the great blast. There's a hole in the wall practically from the Ogre's impact, off the edge of the cliff.

 

The force of the explosive blast, even if it was a little further from Agril, has thrown the priest back several feet as well. He lands on the ground with a mammoth clang of his own, but has no problem springing back to his feet. Extensive training with armor allows for that. He gives his head a shake, ears bleeding as he groans. "Well. That was unpleasent, but it can't be helped now. Darshan! Karelin! Are you dead?" He makes his way towards them, swiftly, to have a look. Nope. Not dead. He immediately begins praying over their fallen forms.

 

Karelin is smokin'

 

Karelin has disconnected.

 

Curls of smoke whisp up and over the sith'makar...and his armor's blown to fragments. To bits. Pieces rattle just outside the blast zone, singed, curled, and beaten. Dusty and bloody. He breathes, barely, a slow movement beneath the scarring.

 

"Gods.." Chandra mutters as the dirt rains down on her. She puts away the black sword. Running around to look for Karelin. "Korite! Where are you?" Her voice gives away emotion she doesn't often let out.

 

Agril's prayer is interrupted only by a fit of coughing before he resumes it. After all, a blast like that definitely kicks up a lot of dirt, debris and smoke.

 

Roland backpedlas from the intensity of the blast, hands rising before his face before he can take in what's happened...There's a moment when he's left staring blankly at where K and Dar used to stand, then he takes in the crater before clearing his throat to join in the healing prayers...

 

The huge blast erupts in a rumble. Kylie's eyes widen into saucers of dread as she realizes that THIS rumble isn't from the bullets clapping from her gun, but that of the bombs Karelin carries. "K--!" She barely yelps in horror before a flash blinks to life before the scream of eruption that burts in soundwave and heat outward. "Ahhhhhhh!" A sharp scream as the little waif is blown back off the wall from the sonic blast, sending her flat onto her back and rolling weakly onto her side. But it doesn't keep her down, she's back scrambling up and leaping off the remains of the wall. Not caring about her own wounds right now, more focused instead on her friends. "Darshan! Chandra!" She yells as she sails down to the ruined courtyard, trying to find the scattered party.

 

Daeus' magic is like a calming touch--he works his hands underneath, and finds purchase amid the rubble. Move, shove himself up--slow, slower with a creaking of arm. Sinew, raw sinew, the blood-red of tissues, show through the wounds, and his armor's blown away and scattered. But, as the healing continues, it starts to...regenerate. The metal grows back, too.

 

At the edge of the crater, Chandra sees the smoking black armor that is Karelin. She looks up at the sky, "Kor, you can not have him yet.." She'll argue with gods. Fortunately the healing prayers have begun to do their labors. She runs over and kneels on the ground near Karelin. Setting her dagger down as she finds a wand and begins to aid the healing herself.

 

Agril coughs a few more times, sagging after that initial healing prayer seems to take effect. He drops to a knee, giving his head a shake. "..good gods. What *happened*? What was that?" He... can't really hear any answer. His ears are ringing. Loudly. he's stumbled right into that crater, though. "Good gods."

Kylie stumbles on rubble and, also, Darshan. He looks a lot like the scattered metal and body parts that litter the area, so she barely recognizes him. "Darboy!" She moves to his side, pulling her pack from her back and rummaging through it. "Are you okay?" Even as she asks this, looking for potions, the spell the bard showers the party with has her scrapes and bruises healing completely to nothing but dull aches. She cranes her head to look past the mangled form of the sith to her other friends down the crater. "Agril!" More relief, then more worry, "Is Karelin alright?!"

 

"That...hurt," Darshan blinks slowly, and in pain. He makes it to--no, he doesn't make it to his feet. He makes it to his ass. He sits on his ass, and the armor continues growing back, slowly, slowly, slower, until there's some semblance of it covering him again, some silver scales to cover the dark ones. One of his horns, one that twists forward, falls just beneath his cheek, has broken off, and he looks at it...and kicks it away with a sweep of his tail. "...but. I'm not going to miss...that." Squint. "Hey there. ...Kylie. Didn't know you had a...sister?"

 

Roland blinks away the smoke, coughing asomewhat as he closes the distance to the crater to look down. "That...was interesting..."

 

The wand in Chandra's hand does a bit to heal the wounds Karelin suffered. "He lives." Chandra helps him to his feet. "Where is that Mage?" She grabs the dagger before they make it to their feet. The filth of battle, blood, sweat and now dirt cling to both fighters.

 

"WHAT?" Agril says this too loudly, at first, because he still can't hear, but he lowers his voice a little on the sneaking suspicion he might being too loud. This isn't the first time he's been deafened like this, after all! He hsa worked in Greta's kitchens so he's accustomed to being yelled at very loudly, which was close enough to that explosion in decibels. "I.. I think the blast concussed him but he should be fine! I'm not sure he'll be moving too far for a little while, though." Still having trouble hearing people, yes, but he's able to discern from Kylie's worried looks in Karelin's direction what she might be wondering. 

 

His gaze goes up towards the cannon, then, saying, "Darshan! I need you with me! We need to destroy these gun emplacements! I have an ida!" And wiht that, he starts to make his way righ towards one to have a look.

 

Karelin, no doubt stumbles about in a daze after nearly exploding. Chandra is almost mothery towards him. She looks for his big black sword, hanging onto him until she notices Agril wandering off, "Do you need my help?" She shouts, walking the Korite over to where he can sit and recover.

 

Kylie has disconnected.

 

Kylie has connected.

 

Karelin, no doubt stumbles about in a daze after nearly exploding. Chandra is almost mothery towards him. She looks for his big black sword, hanging onto him until she notices Agril wandering off, "Do you need my help?" She shouts, walking the Korite over to where he can sit and recover. (re)

 

"I do! Cecily! Oh no..." Kylie mourns, frets, and then winces slightly at watching the regenerating mecha cover wounded limbs. That wasn't pretty. "You must've hit your head hard in that blast... just keep sitting, okay?" She puts her hands up to show him the universal yield and desist gesture. Stay where you are. Sit. Stay. "I'll go help Father Agril." The little gunslinger tells Darshan, hesitating before tearing herself away from her friend's side to become the lizard's substitute. "Darboy's not looking too well at all, I'm not that hurt; I'll help too. Tell me what to do and we can get out of here." Leaving seems to be her biggest goal right now. Anything to expedite that.

 

"Heh." Squint. Blink. Darshan looks about, and looks about...and someone says something. It sounds like Agril. His superior. He tries to get to his feet--gets them underneath him, and ends up, lifts a hand like he'd lean on the gunslinger--a look at her shoulder, his claws, and he drops the hand, drops the tail behind him, hard. And gets to his feet. Just slower. "Just point the--way. On my feet now, Agril," and he lifts his chin, daring the man to deny that fact. And Kylie, too. Determined, he heads after the priest.

 

Chandrakanta finds the big black sword and shoves it into Karelin's hands. She follows after Kylie and Agril. Back up to the top of the wall, "Karelin took quite a knock.." She's not going to say he nearly died.

 

---------------  At a glance around Calamity's Nefarious Lair  ---------------

 

Agril            50s 5'7"     142 Lb                                 

 

    A young human in priestly vestments                                       

 

 

 

Kylie            34s 5'5"     103 Lb                                 

 

    Short blonde waif, peppy and ditzy.                                       

 

 

 

Roland           41s 6'3"     220 Lb     Human             Male      

 

    6'3" charismatic man with auburn curls and hazel eyes.                    

 

 

 

Chandrakanta     45s 5'6"     140 Lb     Human/Veyshanti   Gurl      

 

    Dredlocked Veyshanti Averite with ink and blades.                         

 

 

 

Darshan           0s 6'4"     274 Lb     Sith'makar        Male      

 

    Mechagodzilla                                                             

 

 

 

Calamity          1m           Lb                                    

 

    Oh. It's just a cosmic catastrophe. Move along.                           

 

==============================================================================

 

"...Kylie," says Agril after looking at the gun for a long moment. "..think your elephant can maybe fit here and push them off the wall?" He asks, after a pause.

 

Darshan kneels by one of the guns. Taps it, with a claw, and...shakes his head. Which still seems to swim, because he catches himself as he gets up--it's there in the light shift, the quick twitch of muscle as he restraightens. He looks down at it. "Agril," solemnly, "I have no damn clue."

 

"..okay, let's do this. Darshan, rig up some chains," says Agril, thoughtfully. "Kylie, put your elephant down in the courtyard. We need enough chain that they can reach the guns from the elephant. Loop it around the bottom of the gun. I'm going to see if I can't weaken their moorings," he grunts. "Then we'll have the elephant give a sharp tug, pull the guns right off its mooring. We need to make sure we're all out of the way of where they're going to fall, though. Everyone got that?" And that's when he'll set to work.

 

Darshan starts pulling them loose, at that, and--"I don't have that much chain," he says, wryly, thoughtfully. He looks around, back. "And I don't see any, but if we double the rope. Triple what we have--" and louder. "Anyone have any rope, hand it over, please. I'm going to try and make something to tie to that Graybeast's harness."

 

"Kylie, can you make sure these guns don't have any shot in them?" asks Agril, giving her a hopeful look. "I'd really hate to have one blow up on us."

 

Darshan and the company works at chains, you see motion in the distance, in the rapidly brightening light. Could it be... Cavalry?

 

Darshan glances over that way and starts to move. Move. The fatigue fades as the threat of war comes back, and--it's freer, now, with the armor in pieces like it is. Muscle moves, sinew, scales seen through the tear of metal and armor. He ties the chains, loops them, adds rope, looping it again and again--until there's a line. An almost umbilical cord to tie between the elephant and the guns. Althea forgive the reference.

 

Kylie doesn't say anything to 'baby' or get 'mushy' on Chandra, nor how close it may have been for Karelin, but the little waif does place a comforting hand on the warrior woman's upper arm in passing. And just a look. To let her know that she cares; it was in her nature. Agril then gets a sharp, curt nod. "Mmh! Leave it to me, Father Agril! Well, me and Madam!" She heads to the side of the courtyard, away from the party, and then tugs out a little elephant figurine. "Madam Twinkletoes, wake up!" Toss! The tiny figurine blossoms rapidly into a struggling, worming, growing African elephant that trumpets loudly upon reaching its full 10 thousand pound weight. "Stay!" With that, she hastens to the guns to check to see if they're loaded. If they are (that she can tell), she'll try to disarm them.

 

Roland nods to the others and then moves over to the other side of the crater before unslinging his pack to draw forth a lyre...Yeah, midst of a explosive conclusion to a battle calls for a song right..

 

"I have no fears of falling.." Chandra states with the emotions now in check. Kylie's kindness is only acknowledged with a nod in passing. "Let me help with the knots, I know a few things about rope." After all, there are few as good at getting out of rope as the Veyshanti.

 

And... the figures in the distance? Definately a cavalry troop galloping in to investigate. Uh oh. The chains don't seem to be budging fast enough..

 

"Damn," hisses Agril. "It isn't working. Roland, do your thing. Quickly," he glances over at him, giving him a look. "But *only* if you think you can weaken the supports for the gun further."

 

Kylie gives Lady the gesture to pull, and pull the elephant does. Struggling at the chains that she's wrapped in, straining and trumpeting in frustration. "...this isn't good, Father Agril. I think..." She glances to the front of the courtyard, starting to feel the panic clench at her heart at the sound of hoofbeats. "I think I heard reinforcements. Pull harder, Lady, please!" She even gets behind her girthy friend and shoves at her hindquarters, as if that would help.

 

When the animal pulls, the chains groan, and start to break--Darshan looks that way and, "Hold!" before taking off at a run. A jog, for him, to grab chains and haul them back over. To double them up. And chains there are--he grabs them, hauls them over his shoulders and starts passing them out to whomever has an extra hand. Set of hands. "Here. Help, please. Kylie's right--they're just on our tail."

 

"Damn it," says Agril at the sound of the riders, too. This is so not good! So not good! His plan is FALTERING. And it seemed so good!

 

Roland stomps back up the steps to scowl at Agril, lyre in hand, "make up your..." and then the sounds of calvary seem to penetrate, "Oh fuck!" And with that he turns towards the guns and raises both arms, as if conducting a choir, "Bibbity-dibbity-boo! Hello, hello to you -- Let's take a chance and watch you dance...Bibbity-bobbity-boo!" Childish as the rhyme is, the guns begin rocking back and forth -- moving ever so slightly to strain against their bonds...

 

Darshan grasps the chains and starts to haul, pulling them away from the elephant. Away. Unhooking them from her harness as the guns start to dance and strut, walk and nearly, talk. He doesn't do it fast enough--but he does do it. It's the sort of thing to crush fingers. So, he leaves a little blood behind.

 

GAME: Agril casts Flame Strike.

 

"Oh, fuck it," says Agril, swearing for once. "This is taking too long." He quickly clasps his hands together, invoking Daeus' wrath once more. A great pillar of flame comes down and strikes the cannon! It... leaves it super heated. And not much else. 

 

"Balls."

 

Darshan yanks his hands free--sucking blood from the tips of them. It's a reflex. The chains fall to the ground at his feet, thudding. He throws another look towards the calvary and stops. Just stops, scowling hard before turning back around again. Looks to Agril, "Any more ideas?" he asks.

 

"YEs. We find the ammo," says Agril, "and then we detonate their magazine," says Agril, glancing at Kylie. Hopefully, this will work, after all! He's going to see if it can be found.

 

Kylie gives a nod of her head at Agril's suggestion, "We could ignite their ammo if they're anything like common gunpower recipes. If they're magical or something, then it might not work that well... but let's try it!"

 

As you approach the magazine, something is a bit off. Like.. there's a light in there. A LANTERN? In a POWDER MAGAZINE?!

 

"Oh. That's not good," says Agril, staring at the light inside the magazine. "That's, in fact, really bad. Isn't it." That's what his next line is.

 

In fact, that one surviving Hobgoblin? He's holed up. Right there. In the corner, surrounded by sacks of powder. He looks like he's sobbing quietly, brandishing the flame close.

 

Darshan looks quickly at the others, and back again. And, "That's bad," he says, stating matter-of-factly. And, "...he's going to..." the sith'makar clears his throat. Clears it again. "Sir, if you don't come out from there, you're going to die," pause. "Alexandrians take prisoners, not kill them. That's where we're from. We..." pause, quieter, "You can have a chance at a new life. So you know that."

 

"That's right! We're the good guys. Who wouldn't wanna come back to Alexandria City with us and be a part of that? I mean, the last time we did that, why, he became a paladin for Daeus! ...well, *training* to be one, but still!" Kylie echoes after Darshan in her usual sunny disposition that is only hampered by the concern of reinforcements coming. "You could be a great ranger, being a guide and getting paid for it, or you could become a city guard and get a great dental plan..."

 

"Son," says Agril, firmly, "Leave the lantern. Walk out. Very slowly." The command is given with the sort of authority that only a priest of Daues can manage. "You will not be hurt and will be treated well. I am sorry for the loss of your comrades, but that is the nature of war. You are our prisoner."

 

The Hobgoblin pauses at Agril's word of absolute command. He... nods slowly, clumsilly setting down the lanter at the floor of the dusty room. Unable to resist the word of command, he comes out, nodding a little slowly and chittering something...

 

Once the Hob is close enough, Agril grabs hold of him and brings him to his side. "Get ready to go. Kylie, I think you know what to do, yeah? Roland, ready that spell to get us out of here!"

 

Kylie zips down to Lady once again, patting her on the side for all her hard work. "Thanks for trying, Lady! You can go back to sleep now." The command causes the elephant to give a tired sound as it shrinks back to a tiny little figurine of wondrous power. She picks up the marble item and stuffs it back into her pack for safekeeping. "Just give me the word and I'll shoot it clean and steady!" Standing fifty paces back, she eyeballing the glowy lantern within the magazine, she unholsters one of her sidearms with a twirl about her trigger finger. Aim... "Three... Two..." click. "One." BLAM!

 

And that...is that. Darshan watches as the Graybeast vanishes. He stands near the captured hobgoblin, visage quiet, shoulders slightly bowed. A faint tic keeps in them, keeps at their sides--he looks now and then towards the oncoming forces as though measuring the distance. And says not a thing. Just waits for Roland's magic to take hold.

 

And the Lantern is knocked off to it's side, the protective covers shattering. It tumbles into a pile of loose powder-dust on the ground, bursting rapidly into flames. Oh dear. That spread.. fast. REALLY FAST. There's a great flash and roar, as the magazine detonates.

 

Agril, at that last second, is really hoping Roland was paying attention and casting his spell.

 

And...Darshan flinches. Flinches, but it's too far gone. A look at the fire, a half-step back. It's time to go, now. It's /really/ time to go. He drops a hand on the hob's shoulder as Roland begins to weave--comradely. But squeezes once, and stays nearby. Just in...well. Case.

 

Kylie squeezes her eyes shut tight, just hoping amonst hope that Roland doesn't fail on his magical weave. It would be a bad time to fizzle out on the unreliable magics.

 

There's a blast. Coming down the corridor! Explosions! MORE explosions! The intensity is only increasing as the explosions continue! Only mere moments remained before the main part of the magazine will be consumed!

 

"..hurry *up*, Roland," says Agril, wide eyed. This is so not okay!

 

Kylie has disconnected.

 

KABOOM!!!!!!!!!

 

Agril killed you!