Topic: The Corruption Hidden Beneath the Surface...
Subject: To the Hunt and blood for Kithran!!!
"There will be no sentries on the route we take," the dark-haired monkey explained as he led the group toward their objective. "First, there is no threat here below the surface. Second... virtually all of the faith are in the temple, where we are going, anyway."
“Good,” Ch’dau growled softly. All the easier to kill every last one.
As the priest of D’hurgen had promised, there had been no resistance en route to the temple even from the odd ghoul or zombie that had crossed their path. After a short trek through the corridors leading away from the dungeons, they were guided up a flight of steps and into a much better lit area. Soon enough, the priest held up a hand for caution and, then, called for them to halt.
“We are nearly there,” he murmured over the drone of chanting that filtered down the hallway from the door ahead, “We are nearly there; this doorway opens into the temple itself. Do any of you have any final preperations to make? If so, this is your final opportunity.”
At that, Ch’dau tugged his falcata free of their sheaths. “I am ready,” he rumbled, though the feral snarl that was etched on his features said ‘barely restrained,’ instead.
((OOC: Everyone else’s prep…. ))
“I would wish the Devourer’s blessings on your efforts,” the priest smiled, “but I doubt that you would accept them…”
“F*** your Devourer,” the Silver Cat snarled.
“…Perhaps Shinara will be on your side this day, instead.” With that, and the Kazari’s spit at his back, the priest turned and stepped into the temple.
In his wake, Aranwen led them the rest of the way toward the doorway and, once there, they took a peek inside to gauge what they would face once they entered. Ch’dau’s gaze skimmed briefly over the death-cultists littering the floor around the dais, then fixed with deadly intensity on the figures atop it. A growl began to build in his chest when he recognized Garn, welled even louder when Davena appeared, and, when he realized that the white-gowned figure was Kithran, the growl very nearly became an enraged roar…
"Not much to it," Aranwen whispered, her voice soothing or, at least, stilling the kazari for a moment, "Some won't get in our way, whether they are incapable of battle and run, or are sided with him. The only way we'll know is by leading the charge. Conserve your strength; let those that flee do so, and only fight those that block our advance. We will need all the strength we have left to deal with the priestess and the devout," she looked from Cedric to Gib to Ch'dau, "Kill her, break their morale, and you must survive."
The growl still rumbling in his throat, his fingers flexing anxiously on the hilts of his weapons, Ch’dau simply nodded in response.
“For Kithran,” the bladesinger said, then, and stepped into the hall, herself, with the Kazari close behind.
The first chord of Aranwen’s bladesong was deep, almost matching the chanting within the hall, before it lifted into a crescendo as she advanced. The Silver Cat’s roar and the clanging together of his blades played a brutal counterpoint to her song as he charged in beside her.
Even as Ch’dau let loose his first slash at an enemy with one blade, his eyes sought out Garn and he pointed purposefully at the big monkey with the other. “YOU,” he bellowed, “COME!!!”
Posted on 2019-11-27 at 18:17:21.
Edited on 2019-11-27 at 21:54:47 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: The Adventures of Kith, the Cat, and the Khatun
Subject:
In the streets
The trip from the apothecary to the garden where they were to meet Aranwen hadn’t passed entirely without incident. En route, Kithran had picked another pair of Adedre’s mercenaries from amongst the throng in Davnor’s streets. Catching Ch’dau’s gaze, the sly thief motioned to the pair and then made another gesture that evoked a nod of understanding from the cat-man.
“Where is she going,” Mosic asked as Kith slipped away from them and put herself into the mercenaries’ line of sight.
“To lead those two to their end,” Ch’dau rumbled in reply, pointing out the two monkeys who had already fallen for Kithran’s gambit.
“Shouldn’t we help?”
“We will, little one,” the Silver Cat nodded. He waited until Adedre’s men had their backs fully to him, then, with a nudge and a grunt, he led the Cid off in pursuit.
“…Where ya goin’ little miss,” one of the mercenaries taunted from the shadows of the alley Kith into which Kith had led them.
“Oh,” Kithran’s deceptively sweet voice answered just as Ch’dau and Mosic reached the alleyway’s mouth, “just to go meet my friends.”
“Yar friends, eh?” One of the men chuckled menacingly over the sound of steel being drawn. “We’d like to go meet ‘em, as well.”
Ch’dau held out a hand, stopping Mosic in his tracks. “Mind the street,” the Kazari muttered, reaching under his cloak to draw his own blades, “be sure no one else follows.”
The cleric of Falloes nodded, twin pony-tails bobbing as the big cat slipped silently into the alley.
“Hmm, okay,” Kith smiled, looking past the two men as Ch’dau appeared behind them, “Ch’dau, meet these gentlemen.”
Both mercenaries started to turn their heads, then, but before the action could be completed, the Kazari had run a sword through each of their backs, the force of the blows lifting them from their feet and exposing their throats to the daggers Kith had thrown.
“Gentlemen,” the half-Syl almost snickered as the mercenaries gawked, dumb and dead, in her direction, “meet Ch’dau.”
With a snort, the Kazari pulled his blades from the backs of the men, flicking the blood away from the steel as they dropped into the dirt. “Well met,” he chuffed, grinning at Kith as she skipped over to retrieve her daggers.
“Beautiful work, Ch’dau,” she smiled up at him, after she relieved the pair of possessions they no longer would have need of.
“My thanks, kibibi,” he nodded, his blades disappearing back under the cloak, “You did well, yourself.”
He glanced back over his shoulder, nodding to Mosic who now stood in the alley’s mouth, slowly shaking his head at the carnage.
“Are you alright over there Mosic? I apologize for not introducing you as well.”
“I am fine, Kithran, are you alright?”
Ch’dau’s eyes rolled in his head at the banter.
“…Shall we continue?”
“Please,” the Kazari chuffed.
At the garden
Given all that had happened and all that he, Kithran, and Mosic had encountered since parting ways with Aranwen, Ch’dau found himself a bit worried as to the bladesinger’s fate. Had she encountered any of Adedre’s men or, worse, any mannequins the likes of which had attacked them at the apothecary? In truth, he was more concerned about the latter, as the puppet had mentioned the Sylvari woman by name…
Supposing she does not make the rendezvous, the Kazari stewed as he and the Cid followed Kith through the streets, do we abandon our plans in favor of trying to find her? After all she has done for us, it would be dishonorable to abandon her so.
Thankfully, his fretfulness was unwarranted. As Kith led them around a corner, the garden came into view and, pacing anxiously in the tiny greenspace, so did Aranwen.
Merciful Khr’a, Ch’dau sighed to himself as the bladesinger strode forward to meet them.
“Thank goodness,” Aranwen said, her own anxieties falling away as she approached, “My diversion seemed to work, perhaps too effectively given that I was mistaken for you and ambushed; but how did you fare?”
“We fared fine,” Kith returned, her hands resting on the hilts of her daggers. She arched a curious brow, then; “Say, Aranwen, who is Morgana? She mentioned something about Ch’dau being like you," she chuckled sardonically, "I don’t remember fully because I had nearly been knocked unconscious before she tied up Ch’dau and nearly put us all to sleep in the apothecary.” She shrugged, “Any of this ringing a bell, maybe?”
“Damn that witch,” the Syl’s eyes narrowed and her features hardened at the mention of Morgana, “Thirty years... thirty years, no sign of her, no way to find her, no way to track her down, and now, all of a sudden, she shows up here.”
“Wonderful,” Kith sighed. Echoing Ch’dau’s own grunt and chuff of a reaction.
Aranwen’s eyes darted away, scrutinizing their surroundings for a moment, before falling back on Kith. "One terrible memory, her name and the look of that mask most don't know. Or those that do stay silent. I only know that she's a formidable mercenary. After her puppet confirmed I wasn't you, she said I wasn't part of her contract and left me in the alley she ambushed me in. I can only guess that Adedre hired her.
If we're dealing with her, of all things...” the bladesinger seemed to shudder as she spoke, “we got lucky... but we can't rely on Heren'salkya's favour against the likes of her.”
An old enemy, then, Ch’dau surmised, watching as the woman began to pace again, and all too familiar despite thirty years, it would seem.
“If Adedre did hire Morgana, then we need to take out Adedre as soon as we can,” the bladesinger fumed, “If we kill her, we get rid of Morgana's source of payment. If she gets nothing out of her efforts, she leaves. I've seen it before.
Oh I'd love to take my sword to the smug face behind that mask if I could...” She muttered, her eyes burning with a simmering fury.
Beneath the cloak, Ch’dau’s ears flicked and his tail twitched; a smile in response to the Syl’s fury.
“Thirty years?” Kithran asked, slightly mollified after the bladesinger’s rant, “You’ve been searching for that thing for thirty years?” She crossed her arms, “Then are you sure you’d like to lose her again like this? Personally, all I really need from Adedre is a book, but I also need to stay inconspicuous here in Davnor, and being chased by mercenaries and skeletons makes that difficult. Plus, she locked my friend Samuel up and I simply cannot have that act go unpunished. Killing her is a must for me.” She shrugged, “Perhaps we can pry a few answers from her though before we make her insides into her outsides?”
"Adedre's just an employer," Aranwen mused, "Aside how she contacted Morgana in the first place, I don't know how much she'd truly know. We can at least try and ask, if there's an opportunity."
"I'm not worried about making such an opportunity happen," Aranwen added, looking to Ch'dau then to Kithran, "Not if it puts you both at risk. In any case, I have a suspicion the slavers likewise may have a connection to her, if only by other contracts."
Ch’dau offered a faint shake of his head; “Do not worry about putting me at risk, rrow’ka. Kazari live for such things.”
"It's possible Morgana may approach me again of her own accord, some time later," Aranwen continued, gritting her teeth, "... She was surprised to see me alive, and offered a deal as she put it. 'Life for a life' - pledge my life to her and she'd see Saeriel restored. Ludicrous and impossible.
But that can be dealt with later.”
“Either way,” Kith sighed, “time is not on our side, but hopefully your Helen Skalise is and can shine some light on our next big endeavor. Namely, how the hell we’re supposed to get back in there.” She packs some of the dirt beneath her foot and crouches down, drawing a rough outline of Adedre’s estate, “As you mentioned earlier Aranwen, the ancient tunnel I crawled through to get in there has likely been blocked by now. And I wouldn’t recommend it anyway. Thank you all for not mentioning the stench, by the way.”
“I lived in the bitch’s dungeon for Rrowl knows how long,” Ch’dau snorted, “I have smelled far worse, Little Kitten.”
"Haren'salkya," Aranwen repeated, before adding, "Fortune's dancer, I believe she is also referred to by Shinara."
"And in a strange twist of fortune, knowing that Morgana is after you two does give us one possible opportunity," Aranwen observed, "From what you've told me, she tried to capture, not kill, so Adedre clearly wants you brought back alive. If we could make a mask that looked like Morgana's, perhaps they'd simply open the gate for us if we walked up to it. Not unlike the first time I gained entry, posing as a city guard."
“If they don’t smell me coming it will be a miracle. Anyway, I believe there is only one way into the courtyard area, and that is through the main gate, guarded here,” she marks the position in her dirt replication and looks up at Aranwen, “If you remember another, please correct me. You may do so from the comfort of where you stand, I will not subject you to my aromatic essence down here.” She points again to the square that represents the manor, “There is a front and back entrance, both guarded. And we know that here--unless they’ve spent the day repairing this or she has some sort of window repair magic--is a massive Kazari and Kith-sized hole.”
She stands back up and dusts off her hands, “We have the majority of the day ahead of us, though nightfall will offer us the most cover. Of course, they are dark and evil things, so the night will likely benefit them as well. Additionally, her terrifying lair will likely be more heavily fortified than usual." She looks up in thought, "Then again, maybe not? Who would be foolish enough to return to such a horrifying place the day after such a narrow escape? Idiots, that’s who.” She grinned, “I normally find a hole to sneak through and wing the rest. While that worked seamlessly last time, as it always does, it will be nice to go in with a plan for once. Alright, my savage mercenary Kazari and tactical warrior bladesinger, thoughts?”
The Kazari pondered the crude map for a moment, then snorted and turned his gaze toward where the walls of the Undolithe estate rose not far away. “Perhaps we do not bother with any of the known entrances,” he offered, crouching down beside Kith and extending a claw to draw a rough representation of the walls around her map, “It may serve us better to climb over a section of the walls where there are likely to be fewer eyes, observe whatever patrols might have been set, and determine an appropriate entry point from there.”
Posted on 2019-11-27 at 14:56:42.
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What game do you own the 
Return to Charadun - Q&A
The Morphing Game
Return to Charadun - Recr
