Topic: The Adventures of Kith, the Cat, and the Khatun
Subject: Ain't No Mountain High Enough
"She's not my little girl, but at least we know she does have a parent…” Aranwen spoke in reply to Kithran’s mention of Saina, “I did see her in the crowd before arriving here, asleep in the arms of a woman, but couldn't be sure."
“Ah, well the woman sounded like what I imagine a busy mother might sound like, however I did not actually see her so I cannot confirm whether or not she was actually a busy cloak-making mannequin or not.” She shrugged, “Saina seemed alright though, so either way I’m sure she will be fine.”
Aranwen gave a soft sigh, and wandered over to give the lovely cloak the appreciative examination it deserved. As she did so, Kithran once again found an opening to attempt to swipe something from the bladesinger. She had hardly a breath of a moment to act before the Syl’s golden eyes could have tracked her, and took the opportunity as soon as it presented itself. Her breath caught unlike it ever had before at her attempted grab, waiting for Aranwen to call Kith out and demand the item returned . . . but no such demand came.
Kithran only briefly ran her fingers over whatever it was before slipping it into one of the small, near unnoticeable pockets she had sewn into her clothing to quickly store and hide small trinkets such as this. She wasn’t even sure what it was--another oddity for her when taking an item--but there had been no time, not with Aranwen’s perceptive gaze.
“A nice find indeed,” the Sylvari woman said now
"Hmm? Oh yes, I thought so indeed . . . too. Such a serendipitous occasion, to run into Sai like like that,” and Kithran held back the deep sigh of relief she felt for finally, finally sneaking past Aranwen.
"For the how," Aranwen chuckled, bringing Kith back to the last act the bladesinger had caught her in, "You can thank Morgana for that; she ambushed me by a tripwire connected to a net placed up above in an alley, so I was being particularly watchful of the roof line."
“Well then, all the more reason to track her down and exact my revenge.” Kith replied with a smirk, punching one of her hands into the other.
The conversation eventually turned back to that of infiltrating the wall surrounding Adedre’s estate, and much too quickly a gleam hit the Kazari’s eyes that caused a grin to begin tugging at Kithran’s mouth before he even spoke.
“I have a thought,” he began, wrapping the rope around his large silver arm, “Kibibi . . . ”
“Yes?” She replied, immediately regretting responding to the ridiculous term, but letting it go as she was sure there was an even more ridiculous plan behind that gleam of his.
He looked down at her, “You wear less armor than the rest and, therefore, are likely the lightest…” her grin dropped and she took an instinctive step back as he approached her, but allowed him to set the rope down over her head and shoulder, his plan becoming all the more intriguing.
Ch’dau then proceeded to explain a plan in which Kithran would charge him, only to have him toss her wildly up into the battlement. “This is your plan, Kazari? To fire me like a catapult up onto the walls of this slitch’s fortified compound?” she asked, the humor and incredulity clear in her voice and on her face.
“Yes,” the Silver Cat nodded, almost too enthusiastically, and Kithran’s grin returned at his excitement, “Unless you prefer I try and scale the wall, myself…” He turned his gaze to the unprepared cleric, “…Or I could toss the priest.”
“No,” Mosic said, almost instantly, “No. I choose either option that doesn’t involve me getting tossed skyward by Samuel, please.”
The kazari definitely chuckled, then. “Well, Little Kitten,” he shrugged, his entire demeanor daring her to cower away from his challenge, “The choice is yours. What will it be?”
Kithran tugged at the rope on her shoulders, squinted at the wall rising up high before them, turned and watched in her mind as she sprinted across the lawn to launch herself at the wall. She almost laughed with the excitement that consumed her at the idea. “Let’s do it,” she grinned. “How far up can you get me?”
Ch’dau snorted, and before she could protest or even step away, wrapped his paws around her waist and lifted her straight up with what seemed like no effort at all. She would have been impressed, had she not been so caught off-guard, “How far would you like to go?” he chuckled softly, setting her back to the ground.
“First,” she said, straightening her armor, “please do not do things like that without at the very least, warning me first. I do not enjoy being grasped so unexpectedly, or at all, really. If there is a plan to throw me like a javelin into a pile of bone spiders, by all means have at me--just not unannounced like that. But to answer your question,” and she paused for just a moment, letting the seriousness melt away from her face and allowing her grin to return in full, blinding force, “just get me to the top, cat-beast,” and she began backing toward the gate where the street spilled into the garden.
“Done, kibibi,” the kazari chuffed, and she watched as he backed away too, assuming his position at the foot of the wall.
Of all the things, she thought to herself, shaking her head and holding back yet another bout of laughter both for how silly this was and how unabashedly excited she was to do it. The cat-beast himself looked like a feline reflection of herself, for how giddy he was awaiting her. The bladesinger appeared perhaps a little less confident in their plan, but her own golden-eyed smile only fueled Kithan’s unbridled eagerness.
Kithran hopped a couple times, and then dropped down into a running stance, nodded, and in an instant shot herself full force at the Kazari. Her long half-Sylvari legs sent her across the garden in a blink, and in the next she leapt up at Ch’dau. His timing true, the silver cat caught her foot and launched her up the wall.
As vital as she knew it was to remain silent and unseen, and though brief, the sound of joy Kith had been holding back finally escaped her at the feeling of careening up through the air, weightless, as though she were flying. A completely different sound slipped out of her as she reached the apex of her ascent, a bit higher than anticipated, and the feeling of falling flipped her stomach over. Kithran had felt this feeling many times in her life, and though it often came with the clarity of her bad decisions, she had also learned to correct them quickly, calmly, and with as much grace as a plummeting half-Syl could muster.
“Oof,” she grunted quietly as her grasp on the edge of the battlement halted her descent, but punched her in her spinning gut as she swung down into the wall. She looked down to glare at the Kazari with the wide cat-like grin on his face for a moment before returning her attention to any sign of the patrols. When she was sure she was clear, Kith climbed the rest of the way to the top, tied off the rope and sent it down to the bottom, swiftly dropping back down into a crouch and drawing her shortbow and arrow, keeping an eye out for any early patrols headed their way.
Glancing from side to side, she listened to what could have only been the Falloes priest as he forced himself up the rope. She met his eyes as he climbed over the side, motioning with a finger to her lips for him to get a handle on his huffing, and pointed for him to watch the right side while her eyes, nearly fully black now in the dark, continued keeping watch on their left.
As expected, the bladesinger scaled the wall gracefully, and with far less trouble than their priest. Aranwen needed no direction as she drew her blade and joined the other two in their defense of the rope.
Unexpectedly, however, after more grunting and the unfortunate sound of scraping, a large cat-beast dropped amidst their party, that infuriating grin still on his face.
“You could have just jumped up here, yourself, huh?” Kith asked, her eyes narrowing and shaking her head.
“I could have,” Ch’dau admitted, a chuckle scarcely repressed.
Kithran sighed. “Then why?”
“I do not know,” the kazari snorted, shrugging his massive shoulders, “Perhaps I simply enjoy throwing you.”
“Ass,” Kithran hissed, crouching down and turning her gaze toward the lawns between the walls and Adedre’s manse, “I will say though,” she said, her voice lighter, “going up was a lot better than falling do--oh wow.”
While Aranwen had estimated perhaps a dozen of the monstrous creatures had been scattered throughout the lawns the night before, guessing some had been brought inside to search for the thief and the escaped prisoner, the question of how many skeletal creatures actually roamed within the guarded walls had remained a mystery. Such was no longer the case, as Kithran and the others, to their dismay, gazed upon at least twice that many, if not more, between them and the back entrance to dark manor.
Kithran’s jaw slumped open as Mosic caught his gasp in his hand. Regaining herself, Kith whispered sardonically, “Ah, well, I can take a couple on at a time, what of you lot? Ten for Sammy, ten for the Syl, and ten for you and me, Mosic?”
“Actually,” Mosic said quietly, drawing his hand from his lips and grasping the holy symbol of Falloes, “I do not know what sort of commotion this may raise, but as I mentioned, the Helping Hand has granted me the power to destroy all undead--at least of this caliber--within a certain range of myself.” His eyes flit across the yard, trying to calculate the distance between the battlement and the abode, “If we are able to draw the majority of these to me, I can clear out a large portion of them. I will only have the ability to do this twice tonight, but,” and he shook his head, his gaze unwaveringly on the small sea of bones below them, “this seems as good a time as any.”
Finally, the priest tore his eyes from the smiling horde ahead of him and back to the grim one beside him, “I cannot guess what sort of clamor they will make as they’re drawn to me or the attention that may come with the falling of dozens of their ranks. I will also need to be signaled when the majority are within about twenty-five to thirty feet of me . . . and will naturally require protection as the approach, but I can do this, if we need a path cleared.”
Kithran’s heart would not slow as the memory of that bone demon, that thing made of an amalgamation of those that sauntered below, darkened her mind. The undead, the unnatural . . . there was little Kith could think of more horrifying.
“I like this plan,” she said in response, trying to find the quickest way through this awful mansion, “Look how many are out here. If, as you said Aranwen, most were inside looking for us last night, they must all be out here now. I know the path through this manse, Ch’dau knows it a bit as well now. We just need to get inside and we can make haste to the study up on the third floor.” She glanced briefly again at the creatures below, with weapons made of bone and metal, and suppressed a shiver, “Even if they are alerted to our presence by a few dozen destroyed, that’s still a large portion of their army handled. I am open to other plans, but we should hurry either way, the patrol will be back shortly.”
Posted on 2019-12-09 at 04:02:51.
Edited on 2019-12-09 at 09:40:36 by breebles
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What game do you own the 
Return to Charadun - Q&A
The Morphing Game
Return to Charadun - Recr
Can you just revise to put her bow at the ready after she drops the rope down instead? She wants to play with her new toy 
