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+--- Thread: Between two cities [Great] (/showthread.php?tid=5572)
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Between two cities [Great] - Malon - 01-31-2017
Having handed in the horse with the guards at the checkpoint before crossing the gate meant that Malon was without any mount when she arrived in Camelot, though it was not the first thing on her mind when she arrived. Before her laid a widely open area, and once she had passed those large rocks surrounding the gate she was able to see it in all its glory. The Hyrule Plains were tiny compared to this... expanse. As far as the eye could see, there were green plains, villages and farmsteads dotting the landscape before her, and what she imagined to be a city far off in the distance. It reminded her of Hyrule Castle.
In either case this place was enormous. Traversing it on foot would take long... but with any luck she could make some money with a quick job somewhere in a farmstead and get a carriage ride to one of the big holds. Saving up wasn't always easy but she was skilled at her job. After that? Well... she'd have to see. The priority right now was to arrange for something to make a living with. With those thoughts in mind she adjusted the pack on her back and walked along the first path she found, towards the closest settlement. Even at a decently fast pace that took her over two hours, but she was sufficiently physically fit to not be spent when she arrived.
What she was greeted with she had not expected... several injured men and women clutching bleeding arms and legs, one was even nailed to a wall with a spear driven through his shoulder. There was loud yelling coming from the inn and Malon could see a few black horses in front of it, tied to stakes to wait for their owners. Quickly she realized that this town had fallen victim to an attack... the bandits were probably holding the innkeeper at knifepoint, or someone else, to have them bring them drinks and food. She turned away to run, but it was too late. One of the men standing guard by the horses had noticed her. She barely covered a hundred meters before he had mounted his horse, reached her and knocked her to the ground with the butt of his spear.
"Well, who've we here?" he asked with a nasty grin. "Didn't your mom teach you not to travel alone, little girl?"
"Leave me alone!" Malon yelled. She couldn't reach her sickles in this state and cursed herself for having attached them to her backpack, not her waist. Instead the man grabbed her by her hair and forced her to her feet, then again poked her with the butt of his spear, then turned it around to point the pointed end at her backside.
"C'mon, back to the town we go. And keep your hands on your head. I've got nervous hands, if you make a sudden move I might slip."
Malon cursed her bad luck again... at least she didn't have much that the bandits could steal from her. The sickles would be her greatest loss, but the provisions were neglectable, and she had no money with her. "Listen", she said. "Just take my backpack and take what you want. I've got no money with me, you can check my pockets if you want."
"Shaddap. Scar'll decide what we do with you." Again he grinned mishievously. He led her back to the inn and dismounted, leaving the horse with his companion, then put a hand on Malon's shoulder and exchanged the spear which he also left with the horse for a dagger that he poked her into the back with. "Move."
The inside of the inn smelled like cheap beer and cooked meat. A woman was writhing in her restraints, bound by several meters of rope that tied her to a support beam in the inn, with two more bandits pointing their spears at her and glaring towards the counter every so often. There the innkeeper, presumably the woman's husband, was just refilling a mug with a desperate face. He couldn't do anything, they had him in their grip and were drinking away his beer and wine while outside people were bleeding out or suffering from wounds that if left untreated would cripple them for the rest of their lives. Around the largest table in the room, the only one not shoved against a wall, sat several men and three women with worn leather or chainmail armor, with their leather boots propped up on the table and eating and drinking. The only one that was behaving half-decent was a tall man wearing a leather armor with fur sewn onto the shoulders and a symbol painted on it: a cross with a very long arm pointing upwards, probably representing a sword, and three 'X's to the left, right and over the sword, respectively. There was also a helmet reminiscent of the Camelot Guardsmen at the Nexus Gate sitting next to him on the table. As the bandit shoved Malon closer to the table she noticed that several cuts and burn marks disfigured the man's face, leaving ugly red and brown scars, with the most prominent one going from the right of his forehead over his eyebrow, barely missing his eye, over the bridge of his nose and the left side of his lips, to his chin. That must've hurt a lot.
"Beast? What's this mean?" he asked as Malon stopped before the table. His voice was deep and gruff, and Malon shivered. That was the voice of someone who was used to having their orders followed.
"Just a little birdie that I caught trying to run away", the bandit replied. "I thought you might want to see her."
Scar looked Malon over. "You're not from this village, are you?" he asked.
"... no. I just arrived here... through that gate in the, uh... the Nexus."
"So you're from the Nexus. Are you a Prime?"
"I've heard that word before but I don't know what it means", Malon replied honestly. Scar waved his hand impatiently.
"Can you summon things? If you concentrate hard enough can you turn Omnilium into what you think of?"
"I... I don't think I can."
He eyed her over again. "Can you cook?"
"I... yeah, I can."
"Well, thanks to that idiot Beast -" he gave the man a glare - "you've seen my face, so we can't let you go alive. So, here's your choice: we could find out if you're a Prime right now by slitting your throat. If you respawn at the Nexus, then good for you, and more time for us to leave this place before you can call the guards on us. Or, you could come with us. My men can't cook anything that doesn't make everyone who eats it throw up, so we've got to steal food on top of our other loot when we get out there." He grinned. "You'd be keeping your life, get a bed to sleep in and a share of our loot if you prove yourself a good enough asset to join the Silver Hands." Malon shivered as Beast poked her backside with his dagger, seemingly unable to wait for his boss to give the order to murder her. When Scar noticed her shifty eyes he added: "If you're worried about my men, you can relax. I don't tolerate rape or abuse even of our prisoners, especially of the women. Those who disobey that rule get to feel what it's like to be an Eunuch."
"Can't I just... I promise I won't say a word to anyone?" Malon asked. "I've only caught a glimpse, if even that, I couldn't describe you to a guard."
"Choose. Now."
Malon felt her stomach turn. Was her adventure to end this soon? She hadn't even seen Hyrule again! She had just escaped the Nexus and everything related to it! "I don't really have a choice", she mumbled bitterly. Scar clapped his hands.
"Great! Now then, we'll need to tie your hands and take those sickles from you for safety reasons... oh, and blindfold you so you don't know where our lair is. But Beast here will be so nice as to take the sickles and your backpack for you, and he'll be so nice as to not go through its contents, will he? I'd hate to have to cut a few of his fingers if you find anything missing." He gave Beast a smile that the bandit responded to with gritting teeth, while he let Malon take off the backpack and tied her hands on the front. "Can you ride a horse?" Scar then asked.
"Yes."
"Then you can take Crow's mare. Poor guy met his end impaled by a pitchfork." Beast then led her outside. The bandits were already getting finished with their drinks anyway, so she was only given a few minutes before being told to climb into the saddle of a black mare. The saddle was in good shape luckily, and even with her bindings Malon was able to get in the saddle. One of the bandits blindfolded her and someone else took the reins to lead the horse, since Malon being blindfolded couldn't hope to do so. Again she cursed her luck. The only thing she still had was her life and a handful of belongings... come to think of it this was barely any different than having been forced to work for Ingo.
And from what she had learned, there were no heroes. Not in Hyrule, and not here. So she needed to do as she had already done with Ingo... be patient, obediant and to await her chance.
RE: Between two cities - Carmelita - 02-01-2017
Carmelita had decided that when in Camelot, do as they do. Or at least, that was her excuse for not summoning the patrol car and instead summoning a steed right from the time of Sir Galeth Cooper, and it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that the fact that a horse could move as fast as a car had been bugging her ever since she’d read the fact on the Dataverse.
Of course, her summon was a living animal, and perhaps she had not thought that through. Upon getting the horse to trot, the roar of some wild beast near the edge of the main road sent her mount haring off through the fields towards a small copse of trees, the vixen struggling just to stay in the saddle.
By the time the horse had reached the treeline, Carmelita had decided that yes, the rumors were true, and no, she was not going to be repeating the experiment. Leaving the horse behind, the woman proceeded to orient herself towards the grand medieval city in the near distance and begin walking, hoping to strike the road soon so as to avoid driving over more of the agriculture.
It was roughly half an hour into this walk when she crested a ridge in time to see a collection of horsemen travelling along a small trail. That on its own would not have been enough to give her pause, were it not for the person with a bag over their head, arms tied and horse led. Activating her cloak, Carmelita travelled along the ridge to where the path led up the hill, waiting silently for the group to reach the top of the rise.
“Did you see how much gold that butcher had hidden away in his loft? I can’t wait to spend my share.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ve said it three times now? I get it Teeth, you’re proud for finding the biggest stash in the village, but if you don’t shut your mouth I’ll do it for you.”
“What, like you did to that old crone who managed to beat you over the head with a broom until Longshanks stepped in to save you?”
The two front horsemen continued to bicker as they approached the ridge, leaving Carmelita no illusion as to who these people were. Bandits, scourge of the medieval life. While she reckoned she could probably take three at a time, this many of them would quickly surround her and cut her down to size, assuming they didn’t leverage the hostage they had with them. Instead, it looked like she’d have to be more subtle.
She slipped one of her STAPLER traps out of her belt and found a suitable spot to plant it in the dirt. The constricting trap set and waiting, she began walking down the hill, making sure she had a clear run at the mount on which the hostage sat. Patiently, she timed the front horse as it neared the trap.
“Look, just accept that I am luckier than you, and I’ll shut up.”
“I keep hearing you yammering Teeth, and if you weren’t my brother I’d-”
The hooves of the horse came down, and the STAPLER sprung into action. The STAPLER, an abbreviation of Steel-Titanium Anti-Personnel Lockdown Electric Restraint, had not received an official field test until this point, and Carmelita was not displeased with its result.
Great spools of metal sprang from the small disk, entangling the mount and rider in the wires. Their cries of surprise quickly changed to cries of pain as electric currents began shocking them both, though the mild amount of damage to their nervous systems did nothing but spur them on to writhing and fighting against their bindings with greater ferocity. Comically, this led to them toppling slowly onto their side, exposing the base of the trap.
The pratfall seemed to spur the bandits from their shock, but not before Carmelita had taken the opportunity she had arranged. Darting forwards, no-one noticed the invisible woman mount the hostage’s horse, nor hear the quiet words she muttered into their ears.
“Stay quiet. I’m here to help, but we can’t risk moving too quickly. Act naturally.”
Whether or not the girl listened to her wasn’t immediately clear, but as the bandits searched the surroundings for any ambushers lying in wait it didn’t seem as though she was going to reveal Carmelita’s presence just yet. Eventually a man named Scar found the switch on the base of the trap that deactivated it, turning it into unusable scrap and leaving the rider and his horse to scramble shakily to their feet.
Scar, apparently the leader of the ragtag group, eventually called off the search, though he insisted that each of the bandits should stick in pairs and keep an eye out for anyone in the bushes. This suited Carmelita just fine as she sat on the hostage's horse in the middle of the bunch invisible and, hopefully, undetectable.
RE: Between two cities - Malon - 02-02-2017
Quote:Scar, apparently the leader of the ragtag group, eventually called off the search, though he insisted that each of the bandits should stick in pairs and keep an eye out for anyone in the bushes. This suited Carmelita just fine as she sat on the hostage's horse in the middle of the bunch invisible and, hopefully, undetectable.
Malon's surprise and shock was great when the horse and its rider suddenly started to scream with pain. She couldn't SEE any of the effects that the trap laid by Carmelita was having, which made it worse - for all she knew the bandits could be getting skewered by blades right now. To make matters yet worse the horse she was sat on reared its head and tried to break away from the one that had fallen into the trap, to escape what it percieved as a threat. The man that held the reins cursed loudly as he held on to his own horse and the reins and, somehow, was able to not be thrown off his own mount's back in the process. Malon reacted naturally in her shocked state, she pressed her legs against the ribs of the horse beneath her, strong enough to bend them inwards ever so slightly, which in turn pressed against the lungs and caused fear in the horse. As soon as it came back down she alleviated the pressure again and it didn't try a second time. Her heart raced nontheless as the screams rapidly ceased and she could hear Scar's voice as he snapped at the ones hit by the trap for causing a ruckus. In the moments of chaos Carmelita wouldn't be noticed by a single soul.
Malon nearly yelped in surprise and would've done so if the fox hadn't covered her mouth in time, and whispered into her ear. Still her heart raced but now that the imminent danger was over she calmed a little and took deep breaths to regain control of her body. She could feel the presence of an individual right behind her, but with the bag over her head she didn't quite realize that Carmelita was invisible, and wondered how nobody had noticed her. Her mind raced... she - it definitely was a woman, from the sound of her voice - had come to help, she said, and had told her to act naturally. It couldn't possibly be a trap from her captors, could it be? She decided to trust the individual behind her.
After organizing the group to continue the trek Scar approached Malon with the remains of Carmelita's STAPLER in his gloved hand, and jabbed at her chest with the index finger of his other hand. "Was this your doing, girl?!" he snarled. Malon nearly fell backwards but the person behind her had seen the jab coming and braced herself to stop Malon, without raising suspicion. She bent backwards a bit, was caught, then slid back into an upright position.
"I didn't do anything!" she replied honestly. The sack covering her eyes was tugged up, since they still were in the midst of the forest there was no risk of her finding anything out anyway, and Scar showed her the scrap.
"This doesn't look familiar to you, does it?" he asked. Of course, not Malon's answer mattered, but whether or not she recognized it. The glimmer in her eyes would tell him more than a hundred words. But she blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light and looked at the pieces of metal and wires, trying to make sense of it.
"No... I don't think I've ever seen anything like it. What is that?"
Scar huffed and stuffed the scrap into the hands of one of the men near him. "Pack it up. This doesn't look like Kingdom tech, we'll have Four-Eyes look at it later." Disregarding Malon's question he spoke: "I do hope that you're speaking the truth. See, we have other people at our lair... men, women and children much like you. Now you might be new around here so I'll tell you." Another jab at her chest, more like a poke this time. "The Silver Hands make this public to the Royal Guard and its citizens... if any of our expedition groups is late, for every day of delay my boys at home slit the throat of one of the hostages. For every one of us that gets killed, one of the hostages is starved to death. For every one of us that gets captured, an adult and a kid are tortured to death, nice and slow. And last but not least, if a hostage acts up, we punish another hostage for it. So if you try anything like this again, you'll get to watch one of 'em get twenty whippings. And if you make a run for it, you're gonna live knowing that one of the girls back at the lair gets to die a slow and painful death for you."
Malon bit her lip. "This... this weird thing you showed me, it wasn't me. And I won't try anything either, I promise."
Scar put on a friendly smile. "I knew that you had a smart head on those shoulders. And don't worry too much about what I said. Thanks to our solidary system both the Royal Guard and any nosey Primes out there leave us alone, and we don't have to cut anyone's fingers off, nor- hey, watch it!" Malon had "clumsily" moved her head in a way that had caused the sack to slide off her head and fall down, but she'd caught it with her boot before it could hit the ground. While Scar bent down to take it back she took a very quick glance over her shoulder, and despite knowing that there was someone down there - she could feel her holding on, and her breath brushing her neck every so often - she saw nothing. So they WERE invisible.
As Scar pulled the sack back over her head she wondered how and why this stranger was doing what they'd done. They probably were the ones who had caused that chaos, right? But how could they turn invisible? And why were they helping her? To find out where the bandits had their lair? She could only hope that she was right with that assumption. Then the group began to ride again, oblivious to the fact that they were carrying a new passenger.
Quote:~5 hours later
The journey had led the group through the forest all that time, hidden from prying eyes and from the Kingdom's forts and checkpoints. They took no breaks and the horses were going a little faster, happy to return home, so they arrived there rather swiftly. Their destination was a wooden wall disguised as a hill, with rocks, moss and dirt on its steep slope and a camouflaged gate that opened when one of the bandits spoke what Malon presumed to be a passphrase but she was too far away to hear it. The fortification formed a large half-circle around an open area that was built up against a high cliff with a bit of an overhang, under which several stone huts were built. The most notable feature though was a gaping hole in the wall, supported by beams, which led down into an old mine. The main portion of the lair of the Silver Hand was in there: well-hidden from sight in an expansive underground network that was a mixture of a manmade mine to carve out whatever precious metals had once been here, and natural caverns that the miners had broken passageways to. Malon wasn't certain if the invisible passenger was still with her when the sack was taken off and she was pushed into the cave while the horses were brought to the stables to eat and drink, and Scar vanished off to check back in with the ones he'd left behind.
They had arrived in the Silver Hand's lair. What was going to happen next, Malon could only speculate. And she didn't like what her mind came up with at all.
RE: Between two cities - Carmelita - 02-02-2017
Carmelita had spent the ride quietly assessing the situation. This gang of bandits, the Silver Hand, apparently had a large enough number of captives to be able to make threatening them an easy prospect, and enough men to make holding them all feasible. Her estimation of the severity of the situation jumped tenfold. This wasn’t a small group of opportunists, but a well organised band of intelligent criminals, led by someone who was on par with mob bosses and villains from back home.
The large, well-hidden hideout, whilst imposing, brought with it an opportunity. If she could find somewhere within the base to act as her own base of operations, over the course of a few days she could scout, plan, rescue and sabotage. Ultimately, the leader would need taking down, once Carmelita’s efforts became too overt to hide.
First things first, she needed to split from the hostage she was shadowing. Still under her cloak, Carmelita came up to the side of the woman and spoke softly to avoid the guards overhearing her.
“You need to help me help you. Find out as much as you can, and I’ll be back later to formulate a plan.”
The woman gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod, and Carmelita pressed herself against a wall to allow the guards to pass by. Now she had to find somewhere suitable.
The stone huts, she quickly discovered, were not suitable, as none of them had an attic or disused space she could use to rest. Instead, she began sneaking through the mines, passing by bandits and hostages as she looked for a mined out area. After a good hour of searching, and clenched teeth at the sight of captives forced to perform back-breaking labour, she found the perfect hideout, a small tunnel that led to a natural spring. Hidden behind a fold in the rock Carmelita discovered a small cave, the tracks of a small rodent the only thing disturbing the thick layer of dust that lay on the floor.
She had the opportunity to rest, releasing her cloak and breathing in the cool damp air of the mine, a welcome change from the singed smell of her cloaking field. Carmelita spent another hour in the cave removing the dust to avoid tracking it in and out, summoning a bedroll and a replacement for her used STAPLER and making sure she had supplies stashed away. A quick check confirmed that there were some animal burrows on the far wall, all small things about an inch wide, and she took the time to feel at each one for the soft breath of fresh air. There were two, allowing her to take heart in the fact that, if necessary, she could dig a second way out. Using her eyepiece she also sent a quick summary of the situation to Al3x and Chip, telling them that she’d keep them updated as she proceeded.
Now that Carmelita had somewhere to rest between operations, she could go and find out whether the female captive was okay. Reengaging her cloak, she stalked off through the tunnels.
RE: Between two cities - Dawnika Snow - 02-02-2017
After splitting with her invisible foxy friend, Malon found herself in what looked to be an open room where most of the captives were held. There was no door for this room, but only one entrance which was also the exit. Loose patches of hay covered the ground, probably acting as beds for the prisoners. Many could be seen sleeping on the hay, others were sitting on the ground, which Malon had just seen their legs strapped down by a metal lock on the floor.
The ex-Hyrulian citizen was too latched to the ground with a leg chain, the next closest one occupying her was empty. Perhaps being an open spot for their next victim, or someone was busy doing work. Malon’s captor grinned down upon her after locking her in and turned to leave. Surveying the room, she could see that not everyone lying down was merely sleeping, many seemed to be curled in the fetal position cringing from wounds, or simple unable to stand from starvation. No one talked, it was dead silent.
An hour of silence, beyond the begging groans of starved captives, a girl was brought into the room led in by one of the bandits. Her dark brown hair covered most of her face. The young woman was probably the youngest of the adults in the room, barely peeking into her twenties. Her leg was chained down in the empty spot next to Malon, separated by about five feet of space. If they both were to reach for each other, they could probably grasp each other’s hands if they wished. After being locked in, her perpetrator left her to herself. She instantly dropped the broom next to her and laid down on the floor, facing Malon. Her eyes trailed tiredly up to Malon, who seemed to be observing her for some reason. Oh, right, she looked new. Well, now, at least she wasn't the newest of the captives. It was obvious to the newcomer that this girl wasn't from Camelot, her attire suggested as much easily.
“Pss.” Malon’s signaled the tired female who’s eyes slowly opened back up. “Are you alright?” The dark haired woman propped up on her knees slowly. Her once-white jacket scuffed from dirt and dust.
“For future reference,” her hushed voice barely reached Malon’s ears. “I’d leave most people alone. It only causes problems.” The newbie wasn't sure how to respond. Should she? The girl across from her seemed like she was waiting for a response, or else she'd have already slumped over again.
“I- uh..” Malon quieted down, looking around for any guards. Once she saw the coast was clear, she turned back to the young lady. “What is your name?”
“Sera Toel. I'm from Coruscant.” Malon really had to focus on listening. Sera’s timid voice just barely blew past her ears, she speaked so softly. “They caught me trying to visit family here in the Kingdom…”
“That’s horrible.” Malon responded. “I'm Malon, it's nice to meet you.” Her greeting was met with a hushed silence and subtle nod. They quieted down for a moment as someone came into retrieve a few of the prisoners and take them back up to the living quarters.
“Be careful when talking, they'll think we're planning an escape if anyone is talking. I've only been here about a week and I've seen more people suffer and die than I ever wished to in my whole life.” Sera said, watchin. The entrance of the room for anymore guards. “I recommend you don't make anymore friends in here.” It was at this moment Malon thought about mentioning her invisible ally, but she decided against it. Sera would probably displace her statement as a rambling hope and think her crazy.
With their conversation seemingly finished, the young girl slumps back over, actually quite roughly. It was like she had passed out sitting up and just collapsed into the dirt. It was quiet again, for now at least.
RE: Between two cities - Carmelita - 02-02-2017
Navigating by the light of the few lanterns that hung from the junctions, Carmelita paced quietly through the mine. The echoing of the clink of pickaxes and the shuffling of feet guided her through the tunnels, her ears twitching for the sounds of guards. It took all her effort not to gasp as she laid eyes on a pair of children, legs connected by a stout iron bar, dragging a cart of rock along the tunnel. They looked emaciated, but they staggered on, watched by the single bandit that lazed around on a chair nearby.
She followed the pair up the slope, watching as they emerged into the light of the main cave. A pile of spoil by one of the huts was added to, and the two children abandoned the cart there under the eyes of the bandits that played cards on a table nearby. One of them stood up and shoved the boy and girl roughly back down the tunnel, and Carmelita followed.
The sound of bubbling soon met her ears, and she found herself in the entrance to a large kitchen area. Several pots bubbled away on the fires, and a few better dressed hostages served up food into bowls.
“Hey,” the bandit said, looking down at one of the cooks, “Don’t give them the medium stuff. The thin gruel will be all they need to shift rock.”
Obeying his words, they poured the stew back into the pot and instead filled it with gruel, passing the bowls over to the two children with pained expressions. The bandit turned to a compatriot who sat in the corner with her own bowl of rich meat and gravy and gave a wave.
“Cutty, how’ve you been doing cooped up with the prisoners? Any trouble?”
The two of them sat down at the table while the two children carefully drank what little food they’d been given. Once they’d finished, they gave a wistful look at the pots before the boy tugged the girl out gently. Carmelita followed.
The two children wandered down the tunnel, passing the bandit from earlier and heading down a small passageway. Carmelita followed to see a guard roughly grab them and take them into one of the rooms.
She’d found the prisoner quarters. One room had nothing but bare earth to sleep on, and Carmelita spotted the woman she’d shadowed into the camp chained to the floor, while the room the children had been taken into at least had small rags and blankets. At the far end, Carmelita found proper iron barred cells with small cots, some of which were occupied. The prisoners seemed to enjoy varying levels of care.
When the guard returned to his post, Carmelita snuck into the room in which the woman was in and nudged her gently to wake her.
“Huh?”
“Shh. It’s me again.”
“Who are you?”
“Inspector Fox-Cooper. I’m here to help.”
A rustle of movement from Carmelita’s right and she realised that the prisoner next to the woman was staring right at them, eyes wide. Carmelita clamped a hand over the girl’s mouth as she began to speak.
“Shh! Don’t speak too loudly.”
The girl froze, before relaxing. Carmelita released her hand and the girl stared at where she thought Carmelita’s head might be. Carmelita continued quietly.
“I’m going to get you all out of here, but I need time. What are your names?”
“Malon.”
“Sera Toel.”
“I can’t talk too long right now. Sera, is there a good time to ask you questions?”
The girl gave a cautious nod.
“My job is to sweep the floor in the living areas. Since I’m on my own there, I won’t be punished for speaking softly to myself.”
“I’ll see you then. Stay safe.”
Carmelita left as quietly as she’d entered, and headed back to her bolthole. It was getting late, and she needed to sleep so she’d be ready to explore the mine properly.
She had a rescue operation to plan for.
RE: Between two cities - Malon - 02-02-2017
The night was marked by uncomfortable, uneasy sleep for Malon, but at least her fears of Scar not keeping true to his word and letting some of his men enjoy the captives for the night - after seeing the horribly underfed, emaciated appearances of the people around them, she wouldn't have put it beyond him to be a liar. She was woken up with a kick to her side, enough to nearly turn her over, and found herself staring in the face of one of the bandits. "Up", he said. Malon obliged, was unbound and promptly led to the "kitchen" area. As much as one could call it the kitchen anyway.
She silently wondered what was wrong with those people, to have big fires like this in an underground cavern. The smoke was making the air near-unbreathable and the food that was laying on the shelves without any protection was smelling worse as a result. The man that had brought her in gave her a shove and closed the door behind himself, then sat down on a chair from which he could supervise the entire room. "You're assigned to cooking duty, girl", he said. "Scar told me to do it, but don't think that it'll get you any better treatment. If I catch you sneaking a bite of the stuff, someone else isn't going to be eating their ration, so you had better watch out. Now get to work."
"What am I supposed to do?"
"Do I LOOK like your bloody mum? Good, cause I ain't. Just figure it out. Breakfast's up in an hour, you better have it ready by then."
She just followed the lead of the other people who were already working there, surprised to see that most of them were her age or younger, and although many of them were girls they didn't seem very competent with anything kitchen-related. Even when peeling potatoes they were cutting way too deep, wasting a good amount of it.
Her mind jumped back to what Sera had said..."Be careful when talking, they'll think we're planning an escape if anyone is talking", she had told her. But if she could make everyone's lives a little better... no, she had to risk it. "Hey, you, listen. Just wash the potatoes in water, don't peel them. We'll eat the peel along with the rest. And you over there, make the fire a bit smaller, the heat is too high for the soup."
"Oi. New one! Keep it quiet over there!" the guard said.
Malon took a deep breath and mustered all her courage to reply: "I'm sorry, Sir, but we're wasting a lot. This all gets thrown out, right?"
The guard blinked. "I don't like potato peels. Tastes like shit." He seemed a bit thrown off by Malon's response though.
"Then let the pri... the workers eat it. There's enough peeled potatoes for you and your comrades. I know a recipe that's less wasteful and faster. I just need to coordinate people a bit... but I'll talk loudly so you can see that it's just kitchen related."
The guard grunted and waved Malon off with a "none of my business"-type of motion. What did he care what the workers made, so long as he got to eat and they weren't revolting. Malon rolled up her sleeves and first explained to everyone what she needed, then headed to one of the kettles and reduced the fire to a bearable degree. This whole cooking process was wasting half the food that they had... no wonder that the prisoners were all starved. It made her angry somehow, to see good food being wasted like that... maybe because she had been forced to learn being resourceful when Ingo had kept the best food for himself and left her with the rests.
On the plus side, many of the workers were doing their own thing in a silent chaos because they weren't allowed to talk, but with Malon forcing them to listen the kitchen turned a little more efficient. A little, because most of them just silently agreed and didn't speak back, leaving Malon in the dark, and because the kitchen tools were designed in such a way that they couldn't be used as weapons - knives where Malon couldn't tell which side supposedly was the sharp one, ladles made of wood that would crack under too much force and so on. But at least it brought a little order into the room. While they cooked Malon noticed that many of the girls were wearing rags with the remainder of some emblem on the surface, which she didn't recognize. Could it be that they were all from a school or such?
Finally the guard clanked his sword against the stone wall. "Oi! It's almost food time. How's the meals coming along?"
"D-done, Sir", one of the girls spoke. There were two big kettles, one with the peeled potatoes, one with the unpeeled ones. Vegetable soup, essentially. Two more guardsmen came in to guard the entrance while the one that had supervised them stepped closer and took a sip of either.
"Mmm, not bad. Very nice actually. But how do you expect us to fill our stomachs with this little?" he asked while pointing at the peeled-potato kettle. Before anyone could reply he snagged a ladle and began passing unpeeled potatoes out of the unpeeled-potato kettle into the one with the peeled ones. Malon was forced to watch as the one potato she had allocated for each prisoner, which was already cutting it very short, was reduced to kid-sized portions as the guardsman laughed. He waved the ladle at Malon when finished, spraying some of the soupwater over her. "Thanks to you we'll finally be able to fill our stomachs with something tasty again", he said gloatingly. Malon looked to the ground and pictured herself forcing his face into the hot embers. Then he called over the other two and they took the big kettle with most of the potatoes to bring it upstairs, while one of the girls was left to dispense what little they had left to the prisoners who lined up. Her only consolation was that with the amount they were being given, they barely had any more or less than what they had been given the last evening. Nontheless when she was brought back to the confinment area only her refusal to show her tears to the other prisoners kept her from crying bitter, hate-filled tears.
RE: Between two cities - Dawnika Snow - 02-03-2017
The guard who returned Malon to her place strapped Malon back into her chains. Once finished, he turned his attention to the sleeping brunette next to her. She watched as the girl was abruptly awoke with a kick to her side, coughing as her consciousness came back to the mortal world.
“Come on, girl. Time to clean.” Sera chose not to argue with him and stood, waiting for her ankle weight to be dropped. As she waited, she glanced at Malon, who seemed to be in low spirits. She knew that look. Malon had tried so hard to help, only to see that no matter how hard you try, nothing will change in here. They would be stuck forever to rot away in this bandit coven.
Sera was led out behind the unnamed bandit, who was explaining her daily chore, as per usual.
“Normally, you’d clean the kitchen first.” He said, pushing Sera along in front of him. Her sluggish speed annoyed him. “But Scar left a huge dump in the bathroom that is stinking up the whole place.”
Sera disgusted face only grew worse as she picture what was left for her. She went and did her job, quickly as possible. Best if something were left unsaid.
After she cleaned the unmentionable, Sera was led to the kitchen, which had just been used. The bandit sat and watched her, eating his lunch as he did so. The young girl's mind was on food, she hadn't eaten hardly anything in the week she'd been here. Her stomach needed just a little more of anything. Her eye caught a tempting bit of bread on one of the counters. If she stole food, someone else would be punished...but hungry men make for desperate men. When the bandit focused on his food for a second, she took the lump of bread, and bent down behind a counter feigning she’d dropped her broom. With the extra clothing she wore, sticking said bread down her cleavage was enough to shadow it from the bandit until her work was done and she was back in the prisoner’s room.
After the kitchen was cleaned up, she was taken to the bandit’s living quarters, where she would clean up their rooms. She had an hour to do so, usually left alone to do so since there was only one way in and out like the servants room. She was in the middle of making a bed when a familiar voice washed across her ears.
“Hey, Sera.” Carmelita was cloaked behind her. The sudden sound of her authoritative voice scared the young woman, causing her to ‘yip’ loudly. “Shhhh! You can't be loud like that.” Too late. Shuffling footsteps prowled down the hallway to check on the girl, Carmelita took refuge close to a wall where likely no one would walk near.
“What the hell is going on in here?” The bandit from earlier called out to Sera, who was trying to catch her breath. “Well, girl? Why are you screaming nonsense?”
“I, uh..” she tried to think of a witty response. “Uh...A rat! Huge! Like huge, huge! It was three times the size of a normal rat, it was!” Carmelita smirked in silence from her hiding spot, quick on her feet, she was.
“Did you see where it went?” The bandits tone signified that he cared less about the well being of Sera and more about the fact that Scar would probably kill him if he didn't at least try to care. Although they were still like cattle among complacent wolves, Scar seemed to treat the cattle with some respect as long as the cattle knew their place.
“No, I was so scared I covered my eyes.” Sera responded.
“You chicks are so dumb, blinding yourself from what you fear. That's a sure-fire way to let it eat you. Now focus on cleaning the room.” With that he left, leaving Sera alone with the invisible cop-fox.
RE: Between two cities - Carmelita - 02-03-2017
Carmelita waited until she heard the creaking of the wooden chair outside before continuing to talk softly.
“Sera, how long have you been trapped here?”
The girl continued to work as she talked, tossing smelly blankets into a basket nearby.
“I’m not sure. A few months? It’s not like I can measure time by the passing of the sun, and they took my watch when they captured me.”
Carmelita gave a noise of understanding, shifting out of the Sera’s way as she took unsoiled bedding from a pile by the door.
“How many people are held captive here?” Carmelita asked, frowning beneath her cloak. “What sort of state are they in?”
“There’s around twenty of us. There are several old people and sick kids who are left to lie in the prisoner area all day, and then we’re split sort of evenly between mining and serving. Most of us are half-starved as it is.”
Carmelita winced. That many people would be impossible to protect while also taking on the bandits, let alone the fact that some of them were immobile. Using her eyepiece to begin writing notes, she asked her next question.
“How often do the Silver Hand go out on raids? Do they have enough people to watch you constantly?”
Sera gave a thoughtful noise as she tugged a blanket into place.
“Scar leads a group out every four days or so, usually for at least a couple of nights. When he does, the guards end up locking us all up in the evening rather than staggering our sleep schedule like they do when they’re all here.”
Carmelita handed her the blanket she needed next, and the brown haired girl stared for a moment, transfixed at the sight of the blanket disappearing and reappearing again. Shaking her head, a little unnerved, the girl took it with a quiet mumble of thanks.
“Is there anywhere with a locked door?” Carmelita continued. “If there’s somewhere you could hole up…”
Sera shook her head.
“There’s nowhere that I know of.”
“Not even a vault?” Carmelita pressed. “Where do they store their ill-gotten gains?”
“There’s a passage we’re not allowed to go down, down near the mines. There’s a chute for dropping the coal and opals in, but there’s a guard there at all times and there’s some strange noises that echo up sometimes. Some of the Silver bastards go down there with food every day, and I’ve seen Scar take loot down and bring loot out on occasion.”
“Coal and opal? Interesting… Sera, I’ll visit you and Malon again this evening. For now, I need to go investigate the rest of the camp.”
Sera gave a nod, before raising her hand to stay Carmelita.
“Before you go… can I see what you look like?”
Carmelita paused, weighing the decision carefully, but the decision was taken from her as the sound of footsteps coming towards the door caused her ears to twitch.
“Sorry,” she said, before the door opened and she slipped past the female bandit who had come to grab a coat and padded out down the corridor.
---
Carmelita’s first priority was to check the main entrance. She’d got a glimpse of the gates hidden in the hillside as they’d entered, and something had struck her as off. Sure enough, as she walked unnoticed through the main cavern she found herself looking at the large gates in front of her, the wooden construction shot with small lines of metal.
Upon getting closer, she could see it for what it really was. A large brass arm, inscribed with some shimmering blue runes, sat inside a wooden covering between the left gate and the connecting wall, and Carmelita closed in to see that there was a large pipe buried into the earth nearby. Where it went she didn’t know, but she suspected that this was how the mound of earth that lay in front of the gates could be moved by so few bandits.
Looking around the base of the wall did not reveal anything that seemed like it might open the gate, so Carmelita took a risk and climbed the stairs to the top of the wall. Here there was no space to step aside if a bandit was walking down the walkway: on one side was a small wooden balustrade, on the other the palisade, its earthen covering and the beams that supported the overhang.
Walking along the top of the wall, she could smell the fresh air blowing through the peepholes that punctuated the wall. Peering through one, the midday sun shone weakly down on the trees nearby. A light drizzle dripped onto the tufts of grass that clung to the thin soil exterior, and Carmelita smiled for a moment to see a ladybug seek cover under a dock leaf.
A cough from further along the wall drew her attention and she crept towards it. She found herself within arm’s reach of a bandit who sat in an alcove, staring out of the small slits at the outside world. His cloak drawn tight around him, the man nursed a small mug in his hands. A small blue rune glowed dimly on the side, and steam rose from the surface.
Moving quietly along to the next alcove, Carmelita found what she’d been hoping for. A brass lever stood in the alcove next to the bandit who stood guard, waxing her bowstring between glances at the outside world.
Carmelita looked carefully at the mechanism. It appeared that the lever was connected to a similar pipe to the one she’d seen down by the gate, and she assumed that this was how the gate was controlled. With the information she needed acquired, she turned to go back the way she came.
The bandit woman she’d seen in the kitchen, Cutty, was making her way along the walkway, no doubt here to relieve one of the guards. Carmelita turned and made her way further along the wall, hoping that she was here to relieve the bow-toting woman.
Cutty stopped, exchanging words with the woman in the alcove. Carmelita relaxed slightly.
After a few sentences, the two bandits laughed at some joke. Cutty turned and continued along the walkway. Carmelita turned and continued to hurry along the top of the wall.
At the end, a single alcove held a third bandit. Carmelita looked back at Cutty, then at the third guard, before taking a risk and heaving herself over the side of the balustrade. She hung there, arms straining, as Cutty approached the final alcove.
“Hey, Matches, I’m here to take my shift. Anything?”
“Barely anything. You know when Scar’s divvying up the gains from the raid yesterday?”
Carmelita’s arms began to burn as Cutty leant against the balustrade inches from her hands.
“No idea. Hope it’s soon, I’ve nearly got enough to buy that rare stuff Four-Eyes needs to make the disguise amulets. Then I’ll be able to join in when Teeth and Beast decide to go waste themselves down in Camelot.”
“I don’t know why you’d want to, Cutty. Me, I’m saving up until I’ve got a small fortune. Then all I need to do is convert it to Om, cross the Nexus and live in luxury on the sunny beach of Costa. No fuss, no worrying about looking over my shoulder or keeping some amulet safe. Just a long holiday.”
“Yeah right. You’d spend it all in the first week then be back here within a month. Face it, Matches, you’ve got all the money sense of a hermit.”
“Eh, just get on watch.”
Arms trembling, Carmelita watched as Matches and Cutty exchanged places. Without a backwards glance, Matches headed back down the walkway, and Carmelita pulled herself up and onto the walkway as quietly as she could. She ducked swiftly as Cutty poked her head out and yelled after Matches, lying flat on the floor as the bandit sung out above her.
“Hey Matches! You forgot your spyglass!”
“It’s not mine, it’s Ginny’s. She said to leave it there.”
“Got it.”
As Cutty turned back into the alcove, Carmelita crawled along the walkway until she was certain it was safe to stand up. She moved as quickly as she could to the stairs, descending them two at a time. Seeing no-one around at the bottom, she gave a sigh of relief and took a minute to regain her composure.
Once she recovered, Carmelita turned back to the mine and headed for her hideout. That had been way too close.
RE: Between two cities - Malon - 02-04-2017
Malon's tears did not go on forever. She forced herself to remember how crying did not help: it had not helped when Ingo had forced her to stay, it had not helped when she had waited for a hero to come and it would not help now. She could not hope that this invisible ally would come to her rescue... or that they could do everything by themselves. Thinking it through, she wasn't even certain if she could trust that person. She had never seen her face or found out what her plans were. Of course, she might have had a stroke of luck and found one of the fabled Primes that would break her out. But she was uncertain if she could trust that.
When she was called to cook dinner Malon hatched a plan... there were parts of the kitchen where the sound was drowned by the crackling fires and the boiling waters, and it was obvious that the guards would keep what they percieved as the best bites for themselves. Setting something aside would not work, they would find out about that... but what about disguising food as trash? The prisoners made to do clean-up duty after the meal were mostly unsupervised, and it was they who were tasked with throwing out the remains. A perfect window of opportunity...
When the guard shoved her into the kitchen he remarked: "Make us some more of those delicious potatoes of yours!" with a laugh. "Scar's treating us to a piece of meat for everyone who stayed back, and potatoes go really well with it. Now get to work, do your magic!"
Malon gritted her teeth while facing away from him and turned around, putting on a scared face. "But Sir, we are almost out of potatoes", she replied. "We only have half a dozen, if we cook them whole then not everyone will have some. And the peels taste really bad with meat." That was a blatant lie, but the guard bought it.
"Then find some way to evenly split 'em. Peeled if it's gotta be. And if I catch any of you sneaking the slightest bite of the meat..."
"We would never, Sir!" one of the girls exclaimed while setting up a pot with water. Malon began cutting vegetables, waiting for the guard to fall into a lethargic state where they paid little attention to their surroundings, then gathered the girls to explain her newest recipe. This one would be better than the others...
When the guardsman knocked his spear against the wall to indicate that they should be getting finished Malon unhinged one of the largest pots that had boiling water in it and had the girls throw in the potatoes for slow cooking, along with a few spices. There was a surprisingly big amount of the latter, and for a good reason... From what she had gathered by quietly asking questions during work almost all the girls were from a city called Dalaran, where magic was commonly used. They were from a guild, that was why they all had that emblem on their clothes, or what was left of them anyway. All of them were going to be powerful witches but had been captured during a field trip, and somehow their magic abilities had been suppressed by the special cuff that they were forced to wear on their ankle all day long. None of them had ever learned how to cook with conventional methods, as a result they didn't know the first thing about spices and condiments. They had tried to use some a few times, mixing them randomly into the food, until one of the girls had been beaten brutally for causing severe stomach-aches and heartburn to six men.
Malon set aside several spices that she didn't know, and a few others that could prove useful in the future. If they were going to break out they would come in handy... then she picked out some parsley and fennel to add to the mashed soy beans and lentils that the other girls had been mashing all that time. They threw that into a pan alongside the minced meat and used the fat released by the latter during its roasting to create faux meat hamburgers. The two types looked almost the same, but Malon sprinkled some ashes from the fireplace over a handful, and let out a shriek. When the guard raised his head to see what was going on Malon removed the "burned" ones from the pan and showed them to one of the girls. "You burnt these... we should throw them out."
"Oh did she now?" the guard asked, looking smug. He eyed the ones that Malon had set apart and snickered. "Well isn't it your lucky day. You'll just have to eat these things and hope that they don't make you sick. In the meantime..." He gave Malon a hard stab with the butt of his spear, tossing her against the ground, and kicked her ribs twice, all the while looking at the whimpering girl. "If you don't pay attention your friend here will be taking the blame. She's your boss after all. Aren't you?" he asked while looking down at Malon, who was clutching her stomach. The guard laughed and turned away to return to his post, and Malon slowly got to her feet, then when he didn't look handed back the kitchen towels that she had wrapped around her torso to dampen the hits, anticipating that exactly that would happen. In his pleasure to punish her the guard hadn't noticed that his kicks weren't hitting as hard as they could've, and Malon had the healthiest constitution of all of them. Sure the kicks still hurt - badly even - but any of the girls would probably have had their ribs broken instead. They set the burned food aside.
Then lunchtime came and the guardsman came to check on them. He bent over the pan and eyed it suspiciously. "What's that?" he asked. "How is there more meat than what you were given?"
"Oh, no Sir!" Malon exclaimed. She pointed at the meat hamburgers, "This is the meat that we were supposed to make. These here", she pointed at the soy-lentil hamburgers. "are vegetarian burgers made with dark bread and soy."
The guard eyed her suspiciously, then took out his dagger and cut a piece of both indicated pieces of hamburger. "Well, isn't that a surprise. Did you think you could hog all the meat for yourself and your friends?" he asked, bending over Malon with a grin. "Think yourself clever, huh? Disguising the vegetarian burgers as the real meat, hmm? Unfortunately for you I'm ten times smarter than you'll ever be, and fortunately for you this real meat tastes so good that I think I'll pass on beating you up again." He pointed the dagger at one of the girls. "Fetch the plates and start putting the food on!"
"B-but Sir, you got it wrong! You're taking the fake meat!" Malon exclaimed, putting some shake into her voice.
"Are you trying to test your luck? No? Good, then be happy that you're not getting punished twice in one day", the guard replied sharply. He took it upon himself to load the fake hamburgers onto the plates for himself and his friends, feeling very good about himself thinking that he'd seen through Malon's act. The real meat was left in the pan, untouched. Shortly after that the other prisoners came to get their fill and they were informed to stay discrete by one or another of the girls whenever the guards weren't looking their way. Their surprise was great when they were served meat and lentils rather than the ever-same peeled potatoes and gruel. The peeled potatoes went to the bandits that day. As for the potato peels, Malon left them to roast on the embers that were burning out, for the prisoners on cleaning duty to find as a little extra treat.
That evening the prisoners felt as if they were enjoying a feast at King Aragorn's table, though it was "only" meat, lentils and water. Malon wouldn't be able to do that much more often without raising suspicion - or winding up with broken ribs after all - and it was going to take a day or two before the guard took his eyes off of her again after thinking that he'd seen through her trick, but having done it once meant more to her than she realized at that time. It meant that she could defy her captors, if not openly then with deceit and trickery. And she had shown to the others that they could resist. Eventually, maybe, they would be able to use this defiance to set up their escape.
Or the murder of their captors.
RE: Between two cities - Dawnika Snow - 02-05-2017
That day, Malon, that new girl, came back smiling while at the point of a blade. It was obvious she did something their captors disliked. Even still her face deigned no sorrow. Something happened, and it was only confirmation to see Malon sneak a gleeful, yet subtle wink at Sera. It was like she was saying ‘You're welcome.’ Only to be left in clueless confusion, it was time to clean.
Sera had just awoken from a deep sleep. Although the unforgiving texture of the dirt floor only accompanied by hay as a countermeasure for the solid rock pebbles below them made it difficult to sleep, she seemed to feel something beyond shame and uselessness. This invisible ally that Malon had brought with her, along with the girl's acute willpower relit a dying flame in the brunettes buxom bosom. A feeling pride washed over her that had faded with her dignity within the first day in this horrid establishment. When she first arrived, she was only on her way home from visiting some distant relatives. A simple girl living a simple life, though honestly it was dumb of her not to carry a weapon or have some sort of savant lead her back and forth. When she was ambushed, there was nothing she could do other than lay down and submit. Her meek personality was the bane of her existence, and she despised that deep down, but now- NOW -that is over. She will do the same as Malon. Fight even it means getting beaten or starved.
Although she wasn't sure, that Cooper figure must be a prime. Though not impossible, she finds it hard to believe a secondary could reach the caliber that she has at staying hidden through mean of invisibility. Next time they met, though, she would feel obligated to ask. Not that the answer would change anything, but perhaps- yes, just maybe -she could do something for her. Primes have that uncanny ability to summon anything like it was second nature. She was being thoroughly starved and needed something more than cold-soaked potato peels and stale-ridden bread-crust. With the fast metabolism she owned, her body mass was starting to plummet well below what she cared to brag about. One would be able to see her slowly-collapsing midsection if not for her clothes. Perhaps Cooper could summon something more protein-rich and delectable than leftover veggies for her while she worked in silence.
That walk seemed slower than usual but after being thrown, and tripping under a small up-dent in the earthen floor, into the kitchen she snapped back to reality. As much as she wanted to bash someone in the head with a steaming pot, namely the douche of a bandit above her, she masked her rage with a depressed visage. How long could she keep this ruse? Who knew?
The kitchen was hardly dirty, the girls that cooked seemed to clean up after themselves fairly well, thankfully. On another note, one of the pots was left behind on the embers. That’s not natural. Curiously the brunette inspected the pot that was sort-of-out-of-sight of the guard. Steam slithered across the young girl's face when she first opened the lid but once it cleared up she found the contents. Warmed potato peels? Who could have done-? Malon. That’s why she was so smirk and smug upon return. She left a present. Wasting no time, she stuffed many of those peels in her mouth, silently chewing while sweeping the floor facing away from the guard who looked as though they were about to fall asleep anyways. The only thing Sera could think right now was, ‘I love you, Malon.’ As she enjoyed something beyond the monotony of her usual dinner. Even just having them warmed made potato peels taste a thousand times better.
The day, or rather her obligations, came to end quickly after that. She was even more surprised to find her actual dinner that she gets daily: hamburger meat.
Whoa wait a sec.
Hold on just a moment.
It's a trick right? They aren't actually feeding her, a slave to their will, rich and delicious meat, are they? It's got to be poisoned, or spoiled. Though her ruminations were cast adrift when the bandit feeding her explained the situation.
“It's your lucky day, sweetheart. Your friends on the cooking shift thought it would be funny to burn our meat, so instead you're gonna have’ta eat it.” He displayed the blackened meat to her, finding some joy in making her eat this horrendous meal.
Yep, it was blackened. No way she'd ever get good meat, how stupid of her to think so. Although it definitely cannot be healthy to eat overcooked, well, anything, she wasn't turning down her only daily sustenance. Her mouth watered with the smell of the meat. It was odd, actually, the meat smelled perfectly fine. Nevertheless, she took a big bite from the slab of beef, mixing the taste with, you guessed, stale bread. The hot meat watered her tongue, though the taste was less burned, more buried. More of Malon’s deceitful antics! She covered the meat in dirt to mock a burned outcome. Damn this girl is clever, when her bandit watchdog looked away, she sprinkled some the dirt of the top and enjoyed the food. Although she did so while playing the part of a disgusted cat hacking up a hairball.
When she was done, she was taken back to her spot in the prisoner’s room, where she smirked at Malon, who return a wink in response. Today was great, and she looked forward to what deceit Malon had planned next, especially if she got more meat. Other than that, the somewhat sore brunette laid on the ground, swiping away some pointy pebbles and taking a well-deserved rest. It was only a matter of time until she met the comfort of a feather-stuffed mattress again.
RE: Between two cities - Carmelita - 02-09-2017
The very next day, exercising more caution, Carmelita continued to explore the camp. The windows of opportunity to speak to the hostages were limited, and so she focused her efforts on planning.
She approached the stone huts with care. Two slate roofs, covered in dead, sunlight-deprived moss slanted down, protecting what once must have been the mine overseer’s hut and toolshed. Carmelita wove her way across the sturdier patches of the mound of loose shale that had been built up behind the toolshed, lightly hopping from sturdy foothold to sturdy foothold and avoiding the wobbly rocks.
As she approached the stone wall, she heard the rustling of papers being stowed away, and caught sight of Scar himself closing the door behind him as he headed deeper into the mine. Carmelita crept forward and snuck into the hut.
Beyond the scent of singed air from her cloak, the whiff of smoke caught her attention in the pitch dark. There were no windows into the hut, and the door still swung closed on its hinges, preventing light from the torches outside illuminating her surroundings. Carmelita withdrew her shock pistol and charged up a single shot, using it as a light.
She found herself standing next to a small wooden writing desk, inkpot and quill perched neatly in an indent in the top corner. Besides it lay a small cabinet holding sheafs of paper, and on the shelf above sat a small lockbox.
Carmelita pulled open the cabinet and began laying out the sheets of paper on the table, using her eyepieces to record what was on each sheet. She didn’t give any one sheet more than a passing thought, since delaying would increase the risk of discovery. It was hard work, doing it with one hand, but in ten minutes she had finished going through them, and rapidly put them back in place.
Pulling out a bobbypin, Carmelita eyed up the lockbox speculatively. It was certainly possible to get it open, but there was no telling how long it might take, or whether its contents were anything besides money. A glint of blue caught her eye, and a closer inspection revealed blue runes around the lid. Deciding that tempting fate would be unwise, Carmelita carefully backed out of the door and snuck away under her cloak.
Carmelita walked across the open area to the second hut, avoiding the horses tied up on one side. Again, the hut was windowless, and the door was shut, but with a careful glance around to make sure she was unobserved Carmelita levered it open enough to slip inside.
She found herself in what appeared to be an armoury and storage area. Weapons racks on one wall, armour stands on the other and the shelves of items at the far end gave Carmelita plenty to examine, but she settled with taking pictures of everything. The biggest box that caught her eye was one labelled as ‘Signal Replacement Parts’, and something she took a moment to open and photograph the contents of. Inside lay a large number of brass and copper components, several etched with the same blue runes she had seen on the gate mechanism and the lockbox.
She stood there for a while, perusing the potions, gadgets, bolts and arrows, before the sound of someone approaching sent her ducking into the corner behind the door where she would be unlikely to get in the person’s way. Her cloak was excellent, but it didn’t stop physical contact.
In came one of the bandits, Teeth if she remembered correctly, carrying a small bag. The man was perusing the bowstrings when another bandit, a woman, joined him. The conversation between them was low, but after Carmelita heard the two discussing sources of leather and beeswax she decided that it was time to leave.
The day after her expedition was spent sorting through the documents she’d taken pictures of, and in it she made several notable discoveries.
The first was that the bandit camp had an emergency signal to activate if they came under attack. From the list of jobs and work shifts she had spotted that one of the bandits had been tasked with repairing it. Second was that there was someone in Camelot feeding information to the Silver Hand, whether voluntarily or forced she couldn’t tell. Carmelita thanked her decision to wait until she had scouted out the full extent of the camp before informing the Guard. Sadly, it looked like she would have to pull this off quietly, and without informing the Guard as to her intentions. Thirdly, it appeared that there was a weekly trip to the local markets made by a couple of bandits wearing magical disguises, as there was a list of who was assigned to leave when and when to pick up the bracelets from Four-Eyes. The final document was a list of the sleep and watch schedules for the next couple of months, one which Carmelita found most promising.
After finishing her reading, Carmelita spent the rest of the evening summoning basic vitamin supplements. She had the vague inklings of a plan coming together in her head, but she needed the sick and elderly well enough to walk. Perhaps Malon and Sera might have a way to feed the rest of the hostages the tablets...
RE: Between two cities - Malon - 02-13-2017
The breakfast and later the lunch went by quietly for Malon and the others. Against the advice of Sera she had talked with the others in her free time and made a few friendships - as much as one could call it that, because she did avoid becoming too friendly. Most of it was exchanging names and finding out what they were good at in terms of skills, beyond that both Malon and the others avoided conversation. It wasn't forbidden but if they made friends they would only suffer more when one of them was punished for another's wrongs.
Malon had found that of the young people there were only a few with any knowledge about cooking. A few knew how to roast meat over a fire, but that was it - it was the result of the bandits tending to abduct travelers, young men and girls rather than matrons who'd spent their life learning house skills, because travelers presented easier targets that fewer people would miss, or 'write off' as having been killed by the wild predators roaming Camelot's plains and fields, because young men were more able-bodied than older ones, and because young girls... well, that was attributed to the raiders being men for the most part. The sight of young women made them think with very different parts than their brains. And girls that age weren't taught more than the basics around a kitchen, if even that - as she knew from before, a good bunch of them were aspiring witches who had never been to a kitchen before. The few women with knowledge in cooking had been assigned to other duties because one of them, as Malon later learned through the other girls, had sabotaged several meals using tricks in cooking to conceal it had been her - she had been 'too good', so to speak. It had been a very unpleasant scene when they'd found out the truth. Now they were wary of overly kitchen-savvy women.
It was a good thing thus, that Malon hadn't shown the full extent of her skill. They considered her good enough to stay in the kitchen but not so good that she might be a danger. If she maintained that disguise she could stay where she was and improve the quality of everyone's food, if only a little.
When she was brought back to the waiting rooms after handing out lunch - stale bread and cured meat as tough as leather, and slightly less stale bread and the least cured and thus softest meat for the Silver Hand - she thought about how she would be going desperate if Carmelita hadn't come to their aid. She admired the ability of some of the hostages to have stayed with the Silver Hand for months, some as long as an entire year even. She had spent six years with Ingo, yes, but back then she had seen daylight, she had been able to move freely and been given proper food and shelter, she hadn't been chained down or denied a change of clothes... it had been bad, yes, bordering horrible. This was far beyond the "horrible" line.
"... guard's gonna escort the tax-collector, so Scar's saying that we gotta scratch that one off the list", a voice spoke, barely loud enough for Malon to hear. She feigned to be asleep just in case but observed two shadows on the wall, illuminated by a torch one of the men held.
"Did Mole find out where those forces are being pulled from?"
"One squad's from the capital, but the other one was stationed in a fort near that one town... Bernhelm's End. We don't know if there's gonna be any forces replacing them, but if there's not they'll be understaffed and unable to keep us from raiding the place."
"Bernhelm's End... isn't that the place with the monastery? With the really good beer?"
"Yep, but the monastery's up the mountain. We'd be riding into a dead end if we climbed up there to 'tax' the monks, and with the whole thing being a hit and run I really don't want to be up there when the guard arrives."
"We just have to keep anyone from the town from escaping and sounding the alarm." Malon heard the sound of a dagger being drawn from its sheath accompaigning those words, but the other man continued to speak calmly so she doubted that he was being threatened or anything. He likely was just using it to cut pieces off the cured meat.
"You know that the boss doesn't like it if we kill for no good reason. Besides you'll get your amulet soon anyway... then you can drink all you want."
"Yeah, but I'm paying for it. And I hate those elven liquors that taste like moss, so when that bastard Eightfingers shows up tomorrow with his group and some loot I can't even enjoy that."
"Ahh, you'll just get one of the elven girls instead. I heard that they're only this uptight and cold 'cause they never got to be with a real man, but that they're real cougars in bed once you show 'em."
"I ain't sticking it into some elvish freak! Besides, you know who I'm after."
"Give it up, I tell you. Cutty's not interested in some fleabag like you. Maybe not even interested in any of us. You seen how she's been eyeing Alice lately?"
"Cut it out already! That's just your pervert mind making you see things. I wonder why you don't hit the brothel on your days off if you got fantasies like that."
"I don't want to get sick off whatever disgusting stuff those cheap girls have", the man pointed out. "Egh, if only Scar allowed us to use the slaves."
Malon held back the urge to vomit up what few contents her stomach had and breathed deeper a few times to get the sick feeling out of her system. The bandits continued to talk but brought nothing interesting back up.
She forced herself to relax and cover herself up as best as she could. She needed to rationalize what little energy she had. It would only delay the process of becoming boney and weak until Carmelita helped them out of this hole, but when the time for that came she needed all her strength. Enough, at least, to swing her sickles and cut a few necks open.
RE: Between two cities - Dawnika Snow - 02-14-2017
It was late night, not that any of the slave could tell. Sera was awoken by the sound of clattering steel: Her ankle restraint. One of the bandits had unchained her, but she knew it wasn't time for her cleaning shift.
“What’s going on?” She asked in a hushed tone, crawling up to her knees. The man was large with muscle and had a pretty thick beard, though Sera swore she’d never seen him before, at least down here.
“There’s an emergency clean up you'll have to take care of, follow me.” His deep voice shook Sera’s bones. She climbed up weakly to her feet and followed behind the man. Something made the hairs on her neck stand up. All this was sort of ominous and she was starting to worry.
The man led her down the familiar ill lit tunnels and into a secluded area, though she was familiar with it. There were a few storage closet here with cleaning supplies in them.(Basically just some mops, brooms and other simple products) Sera was obviously confused, but before she could say anything the man grabbed her by the wrist, forcefully I might add, and threw her into one of the closets. He followed in behind her, locking the door as he closed it.
“Uh..” She wasn't an idiot, she knew what was going on. “Scar doesn't allow you to violate the prisoners, are you new to the gang here, or are you just stupid?” She asked.
“You talk too much, girl. I don't care what Scar thinks because he won't find out.” Chills ran down Sera’s spine. Coruscant was rampant with crime in the lower tiers, where she was from, but never had she been assaulted for her body. Numerous times for cash, but no more than that. Her joints locked up and a cold sweat rushed across her palms.
The bandit closed in on her. The first thing that popped into her mind was to grab a broom and usher out some self-defense. That unfortunately proved ineffective. He grabbed the broom as she swung and pushed her to the floor forcefully.
“W-Wait! Stop! You can't do this! I'm only 17 years old!” She panicked but he seemed not to care as he rushed the situation. As she struggled to escape his grasp, she noticed the shelf next to them, filled with metal buckets and brushes used to scrub floors and walls. Not hesitating whatsoever, she awkwardly kicked the wooden leg, snapping the worn wood off and toppling the heavy mess on top of them both. Sera was crushed but cushioned by the bandits body as the metal buckets and wooden shelf bludgeoned his cranium, effectively knocking him out. With a sigh of relief, she crawled out of the mess checking to see if he was alive or if he was bleeding. He was fine other than being knocked unconscious so the young woman tiptoed over the mess and left the closet room.
She made her way back down the hall silently and scared. If anyone caught her roaming around freely it would not end good for her and possibly the other slaves. Luckily, it was mostly uneventful. That is until she was just about back to her chained restraint. Two of the bandits were walking in the opposite direction, talking amongst themselves. Sera needed to go that way but obviously she needed to hide. To her advantage, a cart of fresh food was nearby next to a wall, she took cover and took up a fetal position with her hands covering her head. Footsteps made her heart skip a beat as the closed in.
“Dammit I'm tired. Can't wait to go to sleep. I don't know why Scar makes use do these late night guard shifts, no one knows where we are and it's not like it’s easy to find.”
“I’d rather be careful enough that we're on the alert if someone where to find us.” Boots tromped by the cart, making the helpless little girl shrink in her skin.
“What good will it do if I'm too tired to fight?”
“You're such an idiot, just keep walking.”
Once they were out of earshot, Sera loosened up and breathed heavily. It was only until now she had realized she was holding her breath out of fear. After releasing herself from her horror-induced petrification, she hurriedly returned to her safe spot in the slave’s quarters, chaining herself back in. Malon had awakened from the metal noises next to her.
“Sera?”
“Don't ask.” She said before slumping over and holding back an overwhelming urge to cry. She wanted a revolution, but this rather short experience made her realize something: If she couldn't handle sneaking around, how was she going to fit on the battlefield? She’d never used a weapon before and surely didn't have the time and temperament to do so now. It made her wonder if she was going to die when Cooper finally came through. Maybe Malon would protect her. She could only hope.
RE: [M] Between two cities - Carmelita - 02-14-2017
Carmelita padded through the tunnels, searching for the chute Sera had spoken of. The tunnels were ill lit, and a strange hissing sound echoed through the eerie space. Tracks, etched into the ground, marked the stretches along which the carts were pushed daily, ground a few centimeters into grooves that guided the vixen deeper into the mines.
A shard of blue glinted, catching Carmelita’s eye. She bent down to examine it, one knee brushing the stone besides the shard of gemstone. Delicately she picked it up, balancing it on a rock to see it without her cloak interfering. A thirsty, shimmering blue… she gave up on remembering the gemstone off the top of her head and instead searched the dataverse, comparing the flickering images on her eyepiece to the specimen she saw before her.
“Peruvian opal,” she murmured as the corresponding picture made its appearance.
Though she had no idea as to the veracity of the article she found, the item on historical superstition had her frowning in understanding. Opal, with its deep and varied colours, was rumoured to contain the combined powers of other gemstones. If the myth was rooted in fact, it would be no great stretch of the imagination to realise how valuable it would be as a magical reagent.
Thinking back to the conversations she had overheard, Carmelita was reminded of the word of some bracelet of disguise, and the runes she had seen etched into the pipes at the gate and the lockbox in the store. No doubt their enchanter was here, working as the Silver Hand’s artificer for whatever reward would be theirs.
She was about to continue when a smudge of black, revealed on the side of the fragment, reminded her of Sera’s words. This was not only a gem mine, but one laced with coal seams as well. Perhaps the coal was the fuel needed for the artificers forge, or was used in some alchemical manner. Carmelita rose from where she had crouched and headed on, cautious of magical detection.
After a few twists and turns, Carmelita found herself entering a large, natural cavern. Around the walls large hammers were chained to the walls, and blunt picks locked into racks. Tunnels led off in a plethora of directions, and large baskets of stone sat besides rock breaking stations. Abandoned for the night, Carmelita could imagine the hostages slaving away, hauling gem laden rock up to be cracked open and the precious stones prised from their resting places. Then, of course, they would be collected, and carried over to the large bronze hopper that stood at the entrance to a steep, stepped tunnel, to clatter with the coal down into the unknown.
Carmelita paced down the forbidden stairs, one hand tracing the path of the chute alongside her. From time to time a copper pipe would sprout from the ceiling and wend its way above her before disappearing again. The blue runes she had seen at the gate were etched into the surface. As she descended, the hissing grew louder, and other noises, the gnashing of ghostly teeth and the pounding noise of a door knocker rising with the heat, steadily growing into a mighty crescendo different yet similar to the great noise of a factory.
She padded down the last few stairs to find herself in a cavernous workshop. On the far wall a vault door, a large colossus of bronze, sat stolidly between two glowing keyholes. Benches littered with copper gears lay haphazardly across the workshop floor, interspersed with half-finished machinery and brightly glowing runecraft. Off to one side stood a big bronze boiler that wheezed steam every once in a while, leaving the atmosphere damp even through the singing effect of Carmelita’s cloak. Fed by coal dust steadily dispensed from a large hopper nearby, the heat and light it exuded reflected off the array of valves that sprouted from its side. The copper pipes fled in all directions, up to the ceiling, past Carmelita into the stairwell and a couple to the great contraption that stood at the base of the chute, steadily sorting the coal and opals that lay amassed in the great funnel at the top before grinding them both into the finest of powders with a massive group of serrated worm gears. The coal powder worked its way over to the hopper feeding the furnace, but the blue powdered opal made its way to a small container that Carmelita could just see around the edge of the grinder.
A mechanical yet feline yawn drew Carmelita’s attention. Sat guarding the opal dust were three rune-encrusted bronze lionesses, chained in steel yet surveying the workshop with all the regal air of the queens of the savannah. They came up to Carmelita’s chest, and the one that yawned stretched, settling down into a sedentary pose. The constructs were elegant in design, the pistons hissing quietly with the sound of released steam and filigree masterfully wound over the surface to protect the runes themselves from glancing blows.
Of course, at the centre of this impressive workspace was the spider itself, the machinist that had constructed these and the small array of other magical items that were hung upon the unoccupied wall. Working an engraving station with fervent enthusiasm, the centaur stared down at his latest piece through a bewildering array of adjustable lenses. His tail, emerging from beneath the large horse blanket that lay over his resting equine half, twitched in time to the melody he hummed as he chiselled runes into the bronze band. Finishing the piece of work, and comparing it to the notebook that lay open on the table next to him, he lifted the band out of the clamp and rose to his feet, trotting over to a machine. A few sparks flew as he opened a valve, gears grinding as the machine began polishing the band with a rush of steam, but they petered out on the black leather apron he wore around his chest.
Carmelita stood in the entrance to the room in a daze. Criminal machinists had always been difficult to apprehend, given their array of tools and gadgets at their disposal, but the true issue had always been the force multiplication they provided with their services. A man with a gun was dangerous. A man who could turn invisible and had homing bullets was a nightmare, and Carmelita knew that, judging by the mechanical crossbows and runic armours that lay along the wall, that those this centaur provided would be no exception.
Her brow creased in thought. The Silver Hand certainly weren’t using this stuff, if they were then they’d be much more dangerous than they would be otherwise, so who were they for? Aside from the disguise bracelets, the gate mechanism, the standard weapons and the emergency signal, there didn’t seem to be a reason for such extravagant a work as this.
Caught up in the shock at the scene and the consequent rush of questions, Carmelita nearly missed the sounds of footsteps descending the stairs behind her. She walked carefully into the room, taking great care to avoid the heavier coatings of coal and opal dust and the precariously balanced bits and pieces, and turned to see Scar enter the room.
“Four-eyes!”
The centaur turned his head and smiled beatifically.
“Scar!” he cried, an amiable tone welcoming the bandit leader into the workshop. “What an honour it is, nay a pleasure, to have an ex-captain of the guard grace my humble abode. Is there something you desire, my friend? Another disguise bracelet to be ordered for your lackeys, to keep their loyalty? Perhaps you’ve located another for your little conspiracy, and desire weapons and armour? Or maybe, just this once, you’ve decided to take my advice and bathe in the beautiful mounds of loot piled high within the vault I built.”
“Stop mouthing off to me,” Scar snapped. The lionesses rose to their feet at once, mechanical snarls from each at the aggressive tone of the bandit leader. Scar ignored them, instead walking over to a large construct in the corner.
“There was a small group of men I sent into the Tangled Green,” he continued as he approached the elegant runework. “A preliminary to extending our operations closer to Ambrosia. They haven’t come back, and I need to know whether it’s treachery or enemy action.”
Four-eyes chuckled, removing all but two of the lenses in front of his face.
“And for that you need my Compass Grande, my magnificent combination of centaur life runes and the divining steam of the oracles. Such a beautiful work, one that functions as a Vita Compass, but performs so much more than portable works. Come, do you wish to know how they died? What spoils they covet and use in the dens of vice they’ve snuck away to? Let us begin.”
The eloquent words died away as the centaur galloped round the room, turning valves and laughing uproariously. Carmelita ducked as his hooves sent a half finished saw blade twanging across the room, slicing through the air above her head.
“Steam building, energies growing, and now, now, behold the marvel of my creation!”
The construct began to spin, delicate arms whirring and spinning. Scar sat impervious to the chaos, watching as thin wafts of steam jetted from nozzles at the end of the appendages, magical light flickering as they formed eldritch symbols and bewitching images. A small tray slid out from one side of the table, and into it the bandit placed a collection of small bags. There was a clunk as it slotted back in, before there was a flare of flame and a cavalcade of green smoke that rose from within, mixing with the steam as Four-eyes came to a halt behind Scar. The imagery rose, before forming a single, expansive model that lay on the surface of the table the contraption lay on. A collection of bandits, dead eyes staring lifelessly at the sky beneath the vivid jade of the forests of the Tangled Green.
Scar gave a snort.
“It seems that I need to send a message to Ambrosia,” he mused, a frown falling across his face. “I will need one of your clockwork birds, Four-eyes, and a recording crystal. The old woman from Princess Bonbon Sunshine’s retinue should do. If the threat of innocent deaths doesn’t stay their hands, the risk of us inciting the rest of the duchies to believe the lies spread by the madwoman will suffice.”
Four-eyes smiled, as though the discussion of murder and intrigue were as commonplace and as unimportant as what the weather was like outside.
“Of course, my friend. Do you have your key on you?”
Scar grunted, lifting a glowing blue ornate steel key. Carmelita snapped a picture, examining the filigree steel decorated with a fleur-de-lis and several mythical beasts. In response to Scar’s movement, Four-eyes began turning valves again, the steam rushing through the pipes and causing the descent of a small glass display case from a hidden dent in the ceiling. The centaur lifted off the glass cover, revealing another ornate steel key in the same style as the bandit’s.
The two of them moved to the keyholes and turned the keys simultaneously. With a screech, the vault door began to move, rolling to one side and allowing them access to the chamber beyond.
Carmelita could see through the entrance to the vault, and it appeared that it was large enough to contain several offshoot rooms. With the knowledge that she had learnt as much as she could from staying, the vixen headed out of the room, heading back to the hostage cells. Whatever message Scar was going to record, that would be the time to talk with Sera and Malon. Carmelita had a plan.
---
Carmelita sat sombrely in the corner as Scar had an old woman led in in chains. Scar sent the men outside, and set up a small crystal device. After checking to make sure his face would be above the recording crystal’s edge, he turned to the old woman.
“Now I’m sorry it had to come to this, Penelope. Unfortunately for you, some of my men were killed in the Tangled Green. Fortunately for you, as a first time offence I need you to send a message to the Ambrosians, and for that I do not intend to kill you. Unfortunately, whilst you keep your life, you won’t be able to keep your hand. Now, stay quiet for the recording or I’ll have to replace you with a different hostage. Permanently.”
Carmelita forced herself to watch until the woman’s hand had been cauterised. Her need to gather information had cost this woman her hand from the vixen’s delay. As Scar turned to begin addressing the crystal for the second part of his address, she left the room, her stomach roiling, but her mind set on making the most of the opportunity delivered by this horrible circumstance. It was time to talk with the prisoners once more.
---
The guard to the prison cells had left with Scar in order to escort the old woman back afterwards, and so Carmelita stepped into the room where Malon and Sera were chained to the floor to find them the only two awake, talking quietly to themselves.
“My apologies.”
The two women stifled their startled cries, and turned to where Carmelita was stood, cloaked.
“I’ve taken the opportunity to explore the entirety of the camp, and while I found plenty of information I have left you alone without company these past few days.”
Sera looked down, hiding her face behind her fringe. Malon, however, seemed more than happy to talk for the both of them.
“There are a lot of bandits, and food is difficult to come by, but… well you just being here gave me a little hope.”
Carmelita sighed as she crouched down, a puff of dirt from where she placed her knee allowing them to more accurately determine where she was.
“Hope. It’s a difficult enough thing to nurture. I am unable to ease any of your ills for fear of being discovered, and ruining our chance to get everyone out of here. But it is because of that chance that I am here.”
Malon looked up, somehow looking directly into Carmelita’s eyes despite her cloak.
“You have a plan.”
Carmelita nodded, then paused as she realised the futility of the gesture.
“Yes,” she said, “I do.”
Sera gave a weak laugh, but otherwise stayed silent. Carmelita couldn’t help but wonder what had shaken the woman up so much since they’d last spoken, then realised that she probably wouldn’t like the answer.
“When do we get out of here?” Malon asked, brushing her dirtied hair aside with an intense look in her eyes. “It can’t come soon enough.”
Carmelita placed a tin of vitamin supplements on the floor in front of them, the small metal cylinder fading into view as she removed her hand.
“We have to get all the hostages ready to go at once, and the only way to do that is if you’re all able to walk. Most of the sick and elderly are in here: get them well enough to walk, feed them the vitamins.”
Sera clenched a fist.
“And then we fight our way out?”
“No!” Carmelita exclaimed, and the intensity of her voice was enough to make some of the sleeping prisoners stir. They waited for them to relax before continuing. “I wouldn’t take an entire police force if they’d been stuck here in their condition, let alone those old enough to retire and young enough to go to preschool. Those who are like you, in their prime, can maybe keep a few bandits busy, but them? No, the first thing we need to do is get them to safety so that I, and any who are capable of fighting, can take down the rest of the bandits. There’s a safe place, I just need to arrange for it to be free in time for you to get everyone ready to move.”
Sera narrowed her eyes.
“We haven’t even seen you yet,” she muttered. “How do you know you’re enough to take them all on?”
“I’m not,” Carmelita replied. “But I’ll have to be smart enough to catch them a few at a time.”
With those words, she stood and dropped her cloak. The vixen faded into view, starting at her extremities. Her boots, dark yellow leather with thick, padded soles. Her tail, flaring out behind her as she stood tall. Her hands, gloved and clenched.
As her belt came into existence at the top of her blue combat trousers, and the array of pouches that lay around it, Carmelita’s head hove into view, her blue hair tied tightly into a ponytail and her eyepieces folded up over her earpieces. A promise was visible in her face, a promise that she would rescue them, and her stance echoed that, one hand by her side, the other swinging forward in a simple small arc, gesturing to the two of them. She pulled out her badge from her yellow jacket, inadvertently revealing the large stun pistol that lay in the underslung holster.
“And I will get you out of here.”
RE: Between two cities - Malon - 02-17-2017
Carmelita's appearance brought a little smile to Malon's face. She took a look at the badge, not able to make much sense of it but figured that it was some sort of symbol, just like the Triforce on her belt.
"Before you go..." she said quickly, before Carmelita could withdraw. "There's a few things in the kitchen. Sedative herbs that I could... include into the dinner of the men, to make them fall asleep. They have different food than the slaves, I should be able to arrange..."
"To make our escape easier?" Carmelita asked when Malon struggled a little. When she recieved a nod for an answer, she put the badge away again. "Keep them ready then, but don't lace anything until I've set everything up and notified you. Does the Silver Hand know about the herbs?"
"They've seen them... but I think they mistake them for spices."
"Try hiding them anyway. You never know when someone knowledgeable might see them." Malon wondered if Carmelita had anyone specific in mind when she said that.
She was about to say something else when footsteps could be heard, echoing through the cave, and a sharp female voice ordered the guard at the entrance to the holding area for the hostages to hand over the keys. Carmelita looked back, then put a finger on her lips and with an apologetic look disappeared again, seconds before a woman turned the corner. She wore better clothes than most of the common bandits, including solid leather boots and gloves, which made Malon think that she had to be someone better than the average Silver Hand thug. Carmelita, who had moved out of the way, recognized her as Snake, one of the vice-leaders of the Silver Hand. Her fake name was owed to a strange condition that covered her left cheek, all the way down to her neck and up to her forehead, with something very reminiscent of scales, and discolored her left eyeball from white to a sickly yellow and orange, which both disfigured her horribly and made her look intimidating. She looked around a bit, then when her eyes fell on Malon and Sera she strutted over, the keys on the keychain in her hand clinking against each other. "Your name", she said in a sharp tone - the sort that tolerated no disobediance.
"S-Sera..."
"... Malon..."
Snake tossed the keychain into Malon's lap. "Open your footlock." She eyed Sera for a moment, then added: "And hers too."
It was not the right time for questions, although Sera cowered. No surprise, after the experience she'd just had... Malon knew not what had happened, but she had an ill suspicion. With shaking hands she opened first her own lock, then Sera's, and stood up to hand the keychain back.
"You two move out. To the kitchen." When Sera clung to Malon, Snake grunted at her. "I'm not going to eat you, girl. Now move, pronto!"
Malon obliged but put an arm around her friend as they walked. It was more symbolic and meant to reassure than really protecting her, but what was she to do? Snake handed back the keys as they passed the guard then once they were in the kitchen used a key hidden on her person to unlock one of the doors that Malon could only presume were storage rooms. She hadn't been allowed to go in there. When Snake stepped aside, she revealed that it was indeed a storage area, except that what was held inside was breathtaking: barrels of wine, shelves bending under the weight of cured meat and sausage rings suspended on large meathooks, boxes with labels that Malon couldn't read in the dark, smaller strongboxes that she recognized as containers for exotic spices, sacks of flour and rice... all on a wooden floor to keep them safe from humidity, funghi and such. This was far superior in quality than any of the ingredients she had gotten to use thus far.
"Impressed? You should be. That's my personal stock", said Snake as she lit a torch. In the flickering light of the flame her disfigured face looked even scarier. "And I bet that you're wondering why I brought you here." She stepped closer and put a hand under Malon's chin to force her to look up, into her eyes. "I've heard some good things about you... and your recent meals proved me right. Soy and lentil meat... it takes some guts to try that one." When Malon's eyes widened with shock, Snake laughed. "Oh, don't worry, that secret is safe with me. Although if you try to decieve me again, you won't have those guts for much longer. Anycase, it takes a good cook to make fake meat and make it taste as close to the real thing as what you did. And a good cook is what I want."
Snake turned on her heels, causing her brown hair to flutter around as she stepped into the storage room and emerged seconds later with a piece of meat sausage. She divided it in the middle and handed one piece to Sera, the other to Malon. While they both stared at their pieces, unsure of what to do, the woman spoke again: "Those other girls, they're hopeless - the lot of them. They're more likely to cut themselves with a kitchen knife than to properly peel an onion. I tried getting them to cook properly but I had to give up... so now, I'm placing my hopes on you." She pointed at Malon with her finger. In the torchlight the numerous scars and dirty skin was further accentuated. "I'm promoting you to my personal chef, and this friend of yours will be your aide. Your sous-chef. You'll still be in charge of the regular three meals, but on top of that I want you to cook for me. Using the things from my stock room, of course."
"Because... because the food we make for everyone isn't good enough?" asked Malon.
"Of course not. The ingredients that we loot from every other farmer or traveling merchant are a dime a dozen, they taste disgusting. They're for the thugs. I want proper food, that's why I've placed aside my share of the loot. Meanwhile, you two can stop staring at the meat in your hands and start eating."
Malon and Sera began doing so almost on the spot, savoring every bite. After the bland gruel and potatoes they were given almost daily, the meat felt like a veritable explosion of flavour on their tongues. Snake continued her speech meanwhile:
"If you can keep me satisfied and don't abuse the trust I'm putting on you, there'll be rewards. What you're chewing on is but a sample..." She looked at Sera. "For instance, we might not lock the cuff around your ankles for the night so she can sleep more comfortably. Or I might let you distribute an occasional extra ladle of rations or a jug of wine for the other prisoners."
Sera raised a hand and when Snake looked at her questioningly said: “I can’t cook at all though. For being Malon’s... uhm, her sous-chef.”
“You’ll just have to haul items, stir pots and whatever physical labour you can instead”, Snake replied with a shrug.
Malon rubbed her hands together to rub the fat from the meat sausage into her skin. "But... that would just get taken by the guardsmen, Miss. The wine, I mean."
"Hah. They WOULD do that, wouldn't they. But if you work your little brains for a second, you'll realize that I've thought of that long ago." She reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out two pieces of cloth. Both were dark wine-red, with a sort of flame pattern on one side and one long strand on either side which presumably was to tie the cloth around something, like the waist. Bandanas. "These are worn only by people who respond to me and Scar, and nobody else. They show who you two belong to... and they show that to put a finger on you or your work means incurring my anger. Don't let it get to your little heads, though."
Malon frowned as she tied the bandana around her forehead then helped Sera with putting hers around her arm. As she tugged on the knot behind her head she felt a strange force passing her... her body felt like it was reacting to the promises that Snake was making to her. Safety from the thugs... proper food, and the chance to improve life for the others. And above all, a chance to cook properly. Because if there was one thing Malon liked as much as farming, it was cooking.
Snake closed the door to the kitchen and propped a chair against it that she then sat on. "As your first order and to prove that you're worth your salt, you'll make a dish. Soy and beans aren't bad, but I feel like having real meat. Two hours, you can use all ingredients that you like. And be warned that if you fail I just might slip to Scar that the hamburgers tasted odd."
"Don't worry, Miss... I won't disappoint you." She went into the store room to examine what she had to work with. Rice, vegetables... not in the freshest state. Oil, vinegar, grape wine, a few assortments of dried meat... spices of all kinds, herbs and other condiments... very good. She instructed Sera to set up one of the stoves with charcoal and filled a cooking pot with water for later, then got to work. She felt something change inside her as she wore that bandana... it was making her feel different. Safe? No... powerful, rather. It was power borrowed from someone who she hated, but it was power she could wield. It was in HER hands. "Miss, if I may... the knives we are allowed to use are too blunted to properly cut the good meat with. I have some cooking utensils in my backpack, but that was taken away. Could I possibly have it back just for the duration of cooking this meal?"
Snake looked her over, then shrugged. "It's just knives. If you tried to come at me with them I'd have you skewered with my sword long before that." She left the room and Malon could hear her bossing some thug around who soon returned with Malon's backpack, with the sickles and everything. Snake then came back in, carrying the pack in a hand, but took the sickles away first before handing it to Malon. "You can lock it into the storage room between cooking times. I hope for your friend's sake that you won't take advantage of my trust."
"I won't." Malon reached into the pack and pulled out her wooden coffer that contained the three knives her mother had once gifted her, before having passed. She had named them strangely: 'Nakiri', 'Santoku' and 'Yanagi-Ba', but Malon knew all three names. They were nicely sharpened, too... now this she could use to work.
With a broad grin on her face she began to slice a piece of dried meat from the storage room, instructed Sera to pour rice into the hot water and to put a pan on the stove. She cut an onion, vegetables and herbs to add flavour and prepared some spices, salt and pepper. Better not ask where those were from, especially the spices... their quality implied that someone with very refined tastes was out a lot of money, possibly even their life, for them to be here today. But as she worked her mind became more and more focused on the surface before her, the knife in her hands and the ingredients she was handling. Now was her chance to make a difference without sneaking it through the backdoor. She could establish herself as someone important to this woman... perhaps even to Scar. Chop, chop, chop... the meat was ready. Into the pan with the onions. Maybe she would be able to work her way into a position where she had some movement freedom, where she could use her skills to barter for better food for the other prisoners. She put the meat into the pan and readied a spatula to push the onions to the side once they were mildly browned. Of course, this all would just be until Carmelita was able to set up their escape. If she had a foot in the door by then she could maybe, possibly use it to make things easier. She could conceal especially strong sedative herbs in the meals of Snake and anyone else that she was ordered to serve. Flip, flip... the meat was nicely crispy on that side, time for the other one. Or perhaps if she was tasked with delivering the dishes personally she would know more of the cavern’s layout and be able to help Carmelita with escorting the other hostages into the daylight. Sera, please help me with pouring out the water from the rice... right, she just needed to ensure that Snake thought of them as indispensable.
When she emerged from her thought process she realized that there was a large bowl with rice, two smaller ones with meat and vegetables respectively and one yet smaller one holding a portion of rice with the meat and vegetables on top - that was the ration that she presented to Snake. “Here you go, Miss. Enjoy.”
Snake knocked the door with her sword’s hilt and one of the thugs walked in. “Just a precaution”, she noted before starting to eat with her fingers. Obviously. If they had poisoned the meal and she fell over that thug would ensure that neither of them left the room alive. But, the precaution proved unnecessary. Snake continued to eat until the bowl was empty and her cheeks blushed to a rosy shade from the spices that Malon had added. For a moment she almost looked beautiful, with the bowl hiding her scaled cheek and her eyes closed to better savour the taste. When she put the bowl down she gave a deep, relaxed sigh and let the taste linger for almost a minute before opening her eyes again. “You two may eat the leftovers”, she said as she pointed the bowls out. “When you’re done eating Cobra will escort you back to your rooms.” With that she got up and left the room as Malon took off her bandana and tied it around her wrist instead. Sera seemed unable to believe her luck as the thug, who Malon noted had a piece of cloth with a pattern like hers woven onto his chestpiece, helped himself to a serving and backed to the door, leaving Malon and her to eat the large surplus she had cooked up.
Half an hour later, they were done eating, cleaning and making a few rations for the other hostages, packed into paper bags, and Malon had slid the backpack under the door to the storage room where it would be safe until next time. The thug, Cobra, stopped to chatter with the guardsman at the entrance and left Malon and Sera to return to their beds without locking them up. Of course, they wouldn’t be able to make an escape even so, but it felt good to not have the cold metal around one’s ankle. Malon smiled a bit as she laid back. She would have to inform Carmelita at the next chance, and finish their conversation.
Quote:Reference picture for Malon's knives:
http://i.imgur.com/dbykivQ.jpg
Santoku = multi-purpose knife
Nakiri = Mainly for vegetables
Yanagi-Ba = Mainly for fish and sushi
RE: Between two cities - Carmelita - 02-18-2017
The first task Carmelita assigned to herself was to eliminate magical items from the equation. The disguise bracelets would only be a problem if the bandits got away, and the gate and emergency signal were too heavy to deal with to start with, so Carmelita’s real aim was to eliminate the trove of material down in the workshop and in the armoury. The greatest challenge would be removing the lionesses.
She sat in her hidey hole and thought about how she could solve the problem. Fighting them was out of the question. The beasts were large, much larger than she liked the look of, and it would be impossible to do it without breaking her cover. Sabotage would be her usual recourse, but there was a slight problem in that she had no idea how to sabotage magic. In fact, most of her ideas were scuppered by ‘it’s magic’.
After two hours of drawing up and scrapping ideas, she sat back on her bedroll and stared at the ceiling. Not for the first time, she wished that she were back in time. Sly’s smile drifted across the inside of her eyelids and she wiped a tear from her face, but now she also thought of the others she’d left behind. The Guru, the small purple koala, would have had the answers to her questions, the mystic aborigine murmuring in his soft voice. Murray, big pink juggernaut that the hippo was, could probably have disabled them by hand. Bentley…
She sat up, a brainwave striking her. The turtle was a great inventor and analyst, but one of the most interesting things she found about his plans was how often they approached a problem from outside the box. So, if she couldn’t work out how to take them from the magical side, she’d have to approach them like Bentley would.
How to deal with magical lionesses if you can’t deal with the magical bit? You deal with the lionesses.
Carmelita sent a request to Chip, and quickly received a confused reply with a suitable diagram. She set to work, focusing her omnilium and designing the perfect tool for the job.
---
It was late the next night that she crept down into Four-Eyes workshop. The sound of machinery had gone quiet, and as she entered she noticed the centaur fast asleep in one corner of the room. The lionesses lay on guard by the opal dust, as they had when she scouted out the room a few days ago.
Carmelita dropped her cloak, deployed her secret weapon, and the lionesses perked their heads up.
The three metal lionesses were made primarily of bronze, with movement powered by steam and controlled with magic. That magic had effectively made them act like the real things, and Four-Eyes had apparently done away with any instinctual need to eat, drink or sleep to replace it with loyalty to him. The one thing he hadn’t removed, likely because it never crossed his mind, was the instinctual need for a mate.
There, not five feet in front of them, was a metallic looking lion. Sure, he looked like he had been through the wars, and his proportions were all wrong… but this was the only lion they had ever seen. Coupled with the scent of oil and steam wafting from suspicious patches of its mane and the lionesses went into a lust-fueled frenzy of activity.
Seeing the three lionesses throw themselves at her costume, Carmelita charged up the stairs. Four-Eyes had yet to wake when she left, and judging by the sudden cries of confusion she could hear along with the sound of chains breaking, he hadn’t spotted her leaving.
She activated her cloak as she ran, carefully holding a spritzer of scented oil out to one side and leaving a trail behind her. The lionesses were catching up fast, but she had nearly reached her destination.
Carmelita burst into the main cavern, invisible and with her footsteps drowned out by the intense noise of the lionesses pounding along behind her. She finished the last of the liquid in the spray bottle as she reached the armoury, tossing it into a hole between the slate roof and the stones, before circling back towards the entrance.
The bandits present, who’d heard the heavy clanking of the running constructs, were running about in a panic, some of them tearing open the armoury to grab weapons and armour. Into the room pounded the lionesses, chains flying from their necks like scarves, their glowing blue eyes searching intently for their potential partner. Screaming in shock, one of the bandits was run over, the sickening crack of bone easily audible even through the heavy thuds of their feet, and that was all it took for one of the bandits to finally charge them.
The lionesses reacted viciously, tearing into their attacker, and the situation only escalated from there. As Carmelita left the chaos behind her, the sound of a warhammer caving in one of lionesses’ shells was swiftly followed by the sound of flesh ripping and tearing and a cry being cut off.
About halfway back to the workshop, the vixen ducked into a groove in the wall as Four-Eyes made his way through the tunnels, slowed immensely by the low ceiling. Once he was past, Carmelita raced down the stairs again.
At the bottom, she divested herself of the costume and threw it into the furnace smiling immensely as the stuffy garment finished its productive life. Next up, the magic equipment on the back wall.
Unable to destroy the armour or weapons for fear of the vandalism being spotted, Carmelita did the next best thing: she fastened them to the racks. Grabbing the supplies she needed from the stack of materials nearby, she set about tying the weapons and armour to the racks she placed them on with steel wire, weaving it in great and hideous knots to make sure that serious effort was going to be needed to remove them.
Ideally that would be that, but Carmelita had one more task before the night was finished. Returning to the main cavern, she found a large number of angry bandits, all of them yelling at Four-Eyes who seemed quite angry himself. The words were indistinguishable, but it appeared that the centaur blamed the bandits for the loss of his lionesses, whilst the bandits blamed him for the loss of three companions and the crippling of three more. One of them made a move to strike the centaur, and Four-Eyes swept the woman’s legs out from under her and pressed a hoof warningly on her throat.
The commotion, while plentiful, had gathered too many people for Carmelita to safely attempt anything out in the open or up on the wall, but the armoury had been half ransacked for weapons and in the chaos it was the work of a moment for her to slip inside and tug a a halberd that had caught around the leg of the shelves. With a cavalcade of glass and metal, the potions and gadgets that had been stored there gave up the ghost, and Carmelita darted out just before Scar finally arrived to silence the argument and begin directing the clean-up.
She daren’t stay for their conversation, for risk of being bumped into, but she hoped that any speculation on their part was towards an unexpected quirk of the constructs or the bandits known infidelity with rules.
Still, the force multipliers had been dealt with. The next thing Carmelita was going to need was a distraction of a different sort...
RE: Between two cities - Dawnika Snow - 02-23-2017
Sera looked at the chain sitting on the floor, open and ready to lock her leg. Just the sight of it made her hate her own existence, but this time, it was completely null. The rusted restraint could hold her down no more, literally. She took advantage of this small freedom to gather some of the loose hay the prisoners were to use as slight comfort against the dirt and pebbles that littered their beds. Going between the older people and children, she piled up as much as possible, distributing the fluffs so everyone could at least have some make-shift pillows. Once Malon finally realized what Sera was doing, she began to help, sweeping up the loose straw the best she could with her hands.
The both acquired enough straw to give to most of the captives, some requested that other get it, saying they would be fine without the pillows. Sera was one of these people, as was Malon. It was only fair considering they weren’t chained to the floor like all the others. The teen youth laid down on the ground in her respective spot, a little closer to the wall than normal, as she could now prop up against it. There was hardly a change in the floor’s comfort level, but the sole fact of having non-restricted, free movement softened her thoughts. Mentally, she was able to relax, and that was exactly what she planned to do. This stressful situation was too much for someone as timid as her to worry about. Even if it was just for a night, she could take solace in the fact that she had some leverage and protection now. It felt wrong to think she was above the other captives here, but it enticed her so to know that she would get better meals and nicer sleeping conditions. With a loud huff of a sigh, the tiny brunette drifted off into her thoughts, slowly slipping into her dreams.
A simple apartment building, void of much anything. Scarce a couch, small table and a television set, complete with a tiny kitchen that only had a refrigerator, stove and enough counter space to house the microwave that sat between them. This was home, for what else would a prisoner dream of?
It wasn’t much for someone so young, but the steady flow of money coming from her parents in the Kingdom helped her immensely. Without it, she’d surely have to move to Minas Tirith with her parents, but it would be too much work to move when her school year was almost over and she graduated. Then perhaps she would join her family in the capital of Camelot. Beyond her education though, she was a retail worker at a nearby clothing store. It didn’t pay as much as she liked, but it wasn’t worth complaining about. Her parent’s money is what paid her bills, which left her money for necessities like food and toiletries. It was a pretty peaceful life, and Sera missed it dearly.
Although the current events have reduced her to playing servant for a bunch of overgrown children who no good at anything but swinging an axe, she couldn’t say that this experience was entirely gruesome. Most of the people here at least respected you if you did what you were told. That said, she did miss her bed.
Her dreams shifted to the day she was captured. It was dumb of to travel alone in such a foreign place to her. Her mom and dad warned her, but she assumed most people would stay out of her business. It wasn’t like she meant to stumble into the group of marauders raiding a caravan. The bandits caught her trying to hide once she realized the situation was dire. The memory played through her mind clear as day, as if it had happened just yesterday.
A lone girl walks alone through the countryside of Camelot, unarmed and innocent. A blue satchel-pack slung over her shoulder, housing some necessities for her trek back home. It was a long walk through all the verses, making her wish she was a prime and had the ability to summon a horse. If she had the money, she would have bought one, but alas, there wasn’t enough loose change in her pockets for shiny goods.
Walking along the road, she notices a large cart pushed to it’s side with a missing wheel. Horses seem to have pulled it judging from the size of the load it could carry and the two protruding wooden planks on each side that latched them in. Although they seem to have run off or disappeared. It was instinct to see if anyone was around. Perhaps they had an accident that caused the horses to freak out. She hurried over to the cart, finding that no travelers were around, but some brawny men, and one brawny woman, we’re ripping goods from the cart. Realizing the predicament she was in, she quickly tried to shuffle into the woods nearby the road.
“Oi, we’ve got a snoop.” One of the men said loudly, stopping the meek little girl in her tracks, paralyzed in fear. She turned slowly to see the men, and woman approaching her, weapons in hand. Sera would have ran, but sheer aura of premature death seemed to nail her feet to the soil below her. She shrank into her skin as they continued to talk. “What’chya think we should with ‘er?”
The woman spoke, “Well, we can’t allow her to leave now, can we? It would be best if we took her with us, or just simply killed her.” That last sentence made the teenager mock the sound of a mouse. “We are short handed with the cleaning staff, or perhaps she could cook.”
That was funny. Sera couldn’t cook a quick meal in the microwave to save her life, and in this situation, it’d have been nice if she could. “Yeah, uh..” The brunette muttered shyly, “My cooking skills are well below average. Cleaning I can do.” She says that with a slight bit of confidence if only to keep her head planted firmly on in her shoulders.
After that terrifying encounter, they blindfolded and tied her up, took here and she’s been cleaning since. Now that Malon came with Officer Cooper, perhaps she’ll taste the fresh breath of morning again.
One can only dream.
RE: Between two cities - Malon - 02-28-2017
"Ahh, what's the matter now? Bloody screamin..." The guard who prevented Malon and the others from wandering around the caverns stood up when the screaming of guards being assaulted by the mechanical lionesses echoed through the caves. He readied the rusted sword and turned around, glaring into the room. "You better stay put. If I see one of you so much as trying to escape, you can kiss your best friend's head goodbye." He glared at them before heading out. If they had been discovered, unlikely as it may be, they were going to need the hostages to force their way out of a siege or raiding.
His glare and the rather clear description made one of the youngest kids burst into tears and squeeze another kid near him, saying between sobs that he didn't want to lose his best friend. The mother of the kid tried to calm him but had little hope left in her own heart to formulate encouraging words... and seeing the outburst and that nobody told them to keep it quiet because the guard was gone, more kids began to sniffle. It was a chain reaction in the making. And it was not going to be good.
Malon decided to take advantage of her loosened chain and stood up to walk over to them. "There there..." She said, putting a hand on the kid's back. "Breathe. Calm down... nobody's taking your friend away." She put on a smile, although she did not feel like smiling at all. "What's your name?"
"L-Luke..." the kid said. He was so surprised by Malon's approach that he forgot to cry for a bit. Long enough that Malon got her foot in the door.
"Well, Luke... you're a strong man, aren't you? And men must be strong so that they can protect the women. Don't you want to protect your mother?"
"Of course..." Luke said with a look to his mother, who was eyeing Malon. Not with the happiest look, though.
"So tell me... do strong men cry?"
The boy shook his head, still sniffling. "I bet King Aragorn never cried."
"Exactly... and now your mother needs a strong man who won't cry and who'll protect her."
"But..."
Malon sat down. "Everything will be okay. You need to be strong right now, just like..." Just like who? "... just like the fairyboy."
"Who... who's the fairyboy?" asked Luke.
Malon was about to reply, but his mother asked first: "Before you answer that. How did you get that on your arm?" Her tone was sharp. She had not dared ask before, but indeed, the bandana was raising questions.
"Snake gave it to me. I... work for her."
"Are you working for these monsters now?" came the follow-up question from someone else in an aggressive tone.
"I hate it as much as you all do. I promise. But I don't want to join them... I want to help you, and getting good with one of the vice-leaders will help. Hopefully it'll result in better food." She took the bandana off and laid it next to her, on the ground. "So, Luke... you wanted to know who the fairyboy is? Hey, Sera, could you come over? I could use your help..."
Malon then started to make up a fairytale about a boy who lived in a forest where nobody ever grows up, and who had a fairy for a friend. She told of a big adventure that he went on with a cheerful smile on his face and nothing but a small backpack of belongings on him, and how he 'battled' against the evil "Baron of Tears", who brought sadness and despair over the land to the point that even the skies 'cried' as it rained. She told of the adventures that the fairyboy experienced, of how he never needed to use a weapon because his enemies were secretely just sad, lonely or afraid and that he could always cheer them up and become friends with them. She also told of a girl that the fairyboy met, who the Baron of Tears courted and wanted to make his "Crying Wife". Sera intervened, having caught on at this point, and described how the Baron had even planned a wedding that would be in black, with horribly sad words being spoken and all the guests crying. But the talk of a wedding and a beautiful girl, while not appealing to the younger boys, certainly drew the attention of the girls, who had huddled up as best as they could with their chains to listen to the story.
Malon went on to describe how the boy's cheerfulness brought sunshine wherever he went and how people regained their happiness, how the girl that the Baron of Tears wanted to marry regained her smile and fell in love with the fairyboy, how the people eventually held a big banquet and invited the Baron to it, and how eventually even the Baron himself smiled as Malon revealed, much to everyone's surprise, that he was really just a sad man who had never had a friend in his life and wanted his subjects to not be happy if he could not be. She concluded the story with that the Baron of Tears became the Baron of Smiles and how the lands he had became the happiest place in the entire kingdom, while the fairyboy married the girl - in a white, happy wedding of course - and how they lived happily ever after. Sera and her supported the storytelling with movements, doing little dances with the kids and impersonating various roles until it almost was a theater piece. Malon's bandana became the fairyboy's hat and was passed around among the children as each of them wanted to play the role for a while.
Of course, nice words and a funny, heartwarming story didn't do much to revitalize their tired limbs or fill their stomaches or put some fat on their bellies, but it brought them a little joy. Malon promised on a more serious note that their ally, whom some of the adults had noticed by this point, was working on breaking them out and that she - the ally, whom she never gave the name of - was a Prime of great power. It was but a matter of time. When the ruckus outside settled down and Sera, Malon and a handful of girls were taken back to the kitchen to help with a delayed dinner the hostages, especially the kids, had to pretend a little to be sad and afraid. Perhaps there was a shred of hope after all.
A hope for safe escape, and a hope for gory revenge.
RE: Between two cities - Carmelita - 03-06-2017
Carmelita made her way through the bandit camp, seeking out the copper pipes that peeked out from the ground emblazoned with glowing blue runes. She had determined that these pipes were responsible for carrying the steam to operate the gates, and now sought to trace them back to a valve or some other sabotagable structure.
The inspector was well aware that whatever she did had to be reversible. In order to prevent the bandits from escaping when she made her move, the gates had to be prevented from opening, but if she intended to wait for some of the bandits to be out on a raid so as to split their forces she needed to be able to open the gates for the bandits’ return, so as to ambush the remainder.
There was a lot of muttering and grumbling to be overheard as she walked unseen through the tunnels. With the loss of bandits in the Tangled Green and the recent friendly fire from the misunderstanding with the lionesses, the Silver Hand were feeling understrength. Small arguments were growing into grudges, annoyances picked on rather than ignored, and every so often Carmelita would see a bandit glance over their shoulder as though expecting a knife.
After half an hour trying to decipher the odd layout of the pipes, Carmelita realised that they weren’t laid out in a linear fashion. She’d identified a wall through which a corner pipe ran, only to find the other side of it had nothing more than a hubcap, glowing with runes. Following the direction of the hubcap had led to another, leading her to suspect that the steam was being transported magically between them. In order to identify the correct pipes, she needed to extrapolate their paths and connect them up in one big map. It took her half a day.
Once she’d identified the correct pipes, she found that a second set of pipes led up to the walls. A valve she’d ignored, tucked away behind the stairs as it was, turned out to be the trigger for an emergency flare. Two things to disable.
In the end, Carmelita identified the valves she needed to turn when the time came, down by the boiler. When it came to it, she’d need to lock the workshop down tight, stealing the centaur’s key from where it was hidden in the ceiling and closing the valves to prevent the gate from opening or the flare ignited.
Returning to her hideout, Carmelita thumbed down the list of preparations she needed to make. The care of Malon and Sera was restoring the elderly and sickly to health, at least enough to be able to walk, and with the lionesses and more dangerous equipment out of the way, all that was left was to sabotage the gate mechanism and flare, and steal the keys to the vault. Those last steps would have to be performed very close to each other, and Carmelita knew that she would have to wait for the perfect time to strike.
She was pondering where Scar kept his key when Al3x rang.
“Al3x?”
++Hey boss. We’ve got news.++
Carmelita looked at the AI’s avatar, displayed on the surface of her eyepieces.
“What sort of news?” she asked.
++Chip’s been working really hard, so she’s taking a sabbatical. We’ve got a couple of new tools to play with, some of which will be useful to your current mission. Finally, Chip’s brother’s picked up on something in Coruscant, and has volunteered to carry a tablet so you can conference call.++
“Okay, starting from the top. Chip’s hooked up to the recall, yes?”
++I made certain.++ Carmelita couldn’t help but notice that Al3x seemed to be slightly affronted by her question, but merely blinked.
“Then that’s fine. She’s still a young woman, no need to lock her up just because it’s a dangerous world. Still, maybe I should give her some firearms and physical training, just in case. Anyway, next question, what tools are new?”
Schematics appeared on her eyepieces, videos of tests of a small, handheld shield device appearing in front of her eyes.
++Here,++ Al3x began, ++You can see a one way shield. Chip didn’t name it, so I’ve taken to calling it a SuCC-S, an acronym for SupraPol Cooperative Containment Shield. It’s designed for use by multiple people, so that it can be used to create protective cordons or defensible locations.++
“If it’s designed for two or more, how can I use it on my own?” Carmelita observed.
++That’s where these little guys come in.++ Carmelita suppressed a sound of endearment as a collection of cute drones appeared on her eyepiece, trundling slowly around an empty warehouse. ++This is the Police Containment Drone Squad 001. We’ll probably make more squads as SupraPol grows, but suffice it to say that we can deploy these guys to your quantum beacon at a moment’s notice, at least until you run out of juice. Each of these guys has an inbuilt SuCC-S, allowing you to protect yourself and allies. Your personal SuCC-S is currently carried by PCD 001.01, also known as Boop.++
“These guys aren’t sentient, are they?” Carmelita asked. “Cute as they are, I can see them getting beaten about quite a bit.”
++No, they’re programmed to work off hive programming. No sentience, just automated movement. You’ll be responsible for directing them beyond their standard programming in the field.++
“Right, I can see how they’d be useful. Now, is there anything else?”
++No, just Chip’s brother.++
“So what’s Nimo found?” Carmelita asked. It had been a while since she’d saved the elder tri-eye, and was surprised to hear he’d been looking to pay her back for the help.
++There’s reports coming in from across the Omniverse of some strange robots that have been doing damage. An academic in Coruscant seems to believe he knows what they’re up to and has been calling in primes to help. We’ve actually received a request ourselves, but the wording was so non-descript that I thought it non-urgent. If he’s nervous enough to be asking a lot of people…++ Al3x trailed off.
“Then there might actually be something to worry about. Mierda, talk about bad timing.”
++Chip did say Nimo’d be willing to take a tablet in so you could video conference.++
“Right,” Carmelita agreed. “Can you put me through to him now?”
++The great and almighty switchboard operator will deign to fulfil your request. Here we go!++
Al3x’s avatar vanished off her eyepieces, to be swiftly replaced with a stock picture of Nimo. The maroon furred tri-eye’s voice quickly came to the fore.
++Inspector?++ Nimo asked.
“Hey Nimo. What’s this about an academic?”
Nimo quickly summarised the information he had gathered while he’d been laying low, and Carmelita quickly agreed that this was definitely something worth looking into.
“You said you’d be willing to go and organise a video conference? I’m not sure how much longer I’m going to have to stay undercover, but having a proxy present with a Dataverse connection would be splendid.”
++I can do that. Mind if I use this as an excuse to get some ‘less legitimate’ paperwork filed?++
“I’d rather not, but I will give you monetary compensation and list you down as an official contact.”
++Sweet. I’ll call when the meeting starts.++
They said their goodbyes, and Carmelita headed out to see Malon and Sera. Hopefully they were nearly ready to act...