Prayer is the only thing running through Gib's mind as the fell priest leads them through the tunnels. Despite the promise that no harm would come to them on this leg of the journey, each undead minion that they pass is a reminder of the hell they've gone through. His prayers shift from requests for protection for his friends to pleading with the Mighty General for Kith's well-being. 

The priest holds up a hand for caution, then calls a halt. The sound of voices chanting from beyond a doorway at the end of the hall is immediately recognized by the warrior-priest as religious in nature and his blood runs cold.

"We are nearly there," their guide motions in the direction of the noise. "This doorway opens into the temple itself. Do any of you have any final preparations to make? If so, this is your final opportunity."

At that, Ch’dau tugs his falcata free of their sheaths. “I am ready,” he rumbles, though the feral snarl that is etched on his features says ‘barely restrained,’ instead.

"There are more preparations to be had, my friend," Gib draws in a deep breath of the cool cave air and glances at the priest of D'hurgen before returning his gaze to his companions. "I will ask a lot of the Battle Lord this day and pray that his grace is with us and he grants my requests. Aranwen... Ch'Dau... these miracles I ask of my god will be for you both as you'll be the frontline."

Turning to Cedric, Gib asks, "Does your faith have prayers for protecting one from the touch of evil?"

(OOC: receiving an affirmative, I'm assuming.)

"And one for granting a blessing upon allies?"

(OOC: again, assuming an affirmative.)

"Finally, what of the divine power to be invisible to undead?"

(OOC: yup... that too.)

"If you'll ask Solanis for these miracles on Aranwen, I'll tend to Ch'dau," bringing a determined yet weary gaze back to Aranwen and then Ch'dau, Moreno advises them of one additional action. "I will also ask of Therassor a battle blessing. Perhaps, with these miracles, we may yet win the day."

(OOC: assuming there are no objections...)

Gib asks Ch'dau to kneel and prays over him. "Lord of Just Battle, Mighty General, it is in humility that I ask these boons upon my fellows that they may carry the day in your name.

"Grant the ferocious Ch'dau of the Kazari protection from the evil he is about to face that he may show how mighty you are, that the honor of those who have passed on to the Halls of Heroes may be manifest in his actions," retrieving a small vial of holy water from his pouch, Gib unstops the container and takes a bit of the water on his fingertips. Drawing the Sign of the Sword on the Kazari's forehead, he pauses, feeling the warmth of his god's power flow through him, the Sign of the Sword briefly glowing with a silvery fire before fading into the cat man's fur. 

Hearing Cedric about his prayers, Gib waits for him to finish the blessing, the younger priest having already requested the protection upon Aranwen from Solanis. When the Priest of Light is finished uttering the words of his blessing, Gib closes his eyes for a moment to bask in the feeling of confidence that washes over him. Then, pressing his lips together, he breathes in deeply and returns to his task.

"Honored General," the warrior-priest takes his sword by the blade, holding it so that the crossguard rests on the ridge of his index finger and thumb. Presenting it before the Kazari's feline face, he continues, "Through your divine power, grant that the senses of the foul incarnations, even the undead, be masked."

The holy symbol on his crossguard flares with the comforting silver light and for a moment, Ch'dau is outlined in a liquid silver that melts into his body. Fishing an electrum coin specifically fashioned for this sort of prayer from his pouch, Gib holds it in front of him, resting on the flat nail of his thumb. "Battle Lord, this foe that we are about to face is forcing undeath upon many who would look to you for justice. This warrior, Ch'dau of the Kazari, the Silver Cat, is entering into righteous battle. Grant him your favor on this day!"

Flipping the coin at his friend, it tumbles through the air towards his forehead before vanishing in a flash of silver light. Instead of the coin striking the fur and flesh of the warrior, the light that devoured the coin shoots straight into his eyes. Placing a hand on Ch'dau's shoulder for a second, Gib nods to him before moving to where Aranwen kneels. 

Producing another electrum coin, Gib offers the Bladesinger an encouraging smile. "Battle Lord, this foe that we are about to face is forcing undeath upon many who would look to you for justice. This warrior, Aranwen of the Sylvari, honored bladesinger, is entering into righteous battle. Grant her your favor on this day!"

Flipping the coin at his friend and leader, it tumbles through the air towards her forehead before vanishing in a familiar flash of silver light. As before, the light that devoured the coin shoots straight into her eyes.

"It is done," Gib says, placing his hand on Aranwen's shoulder at the same time as gripping her hand and pulling her to a standing position. "We are prepared the best we can be without seeing the lay of the land with an army behind us."

Looking at his friends, the warrior-priest offers one more suggestion, "Rituals most likely take place upon a dais. We could be facing an encircling mass with Davena in the middle performing her rite, or she could be at the front of the gathered. Either way, I suggest that the two of you make your way to your targets post haste. These prayers will not last forever. I'll ask for Therassor to hold that maggot, Garn, so that you may finish him with little effort, Ch'dau. The sooner you can focus on Davena, the better off we'll all be. After the prayer, I'll take a shot with this—" he hefts his crossbow and loads it as he continues talking, "—at Davena if I have the opportunity and then join you in the fray."

(OOC: assuming acceptance...)

“I would wish the Devourer’s blessings on your efforts,” the priest of D'hurgen smiles, “but I doubt that you would accept them…”

“F*** your Devourer,” the Silver Cat snarls as Gib stares flatly at the man. Is he mocking us?

“…Perhaps Shinara will be on your side this day, instead.” With that, and the Kazari’s spit at his back, the priest turns and steps into the temple.

In his wake, Aranwen leads them the rest of the way toward the doorway and, once there, takes a peek inside to gauge what they are facing once they enter. Gib looks past his friends, his crossbow now hanging at ready by his side, his sword in hand, shield on his shoulder. There are so many... A growl forms deep in Ch'dau's chest somehow offering additional comfort. It grows even louder at about the same time Gib recognizes Davena and... Kithran upon the strange table wearing very un-Kith-like clothing. The Kazari's growl very nearly becomes an enraged roar and Gib's blood turns to the steel of his righteous wrath.

"Not much to it," Aranwen whispers, 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 looks from Cedric to Gib to Ch'dau, "Kill her, break their morale, and you must survive."

The growl still rumbling in his throat, Ch'dau's fingers flexing anxiously on the hilts of his weapons, the Kazari simply nods in response.

“For Kithran,” the bladesinger says, then, and steps into the hall, herself, with the Kazari close behind.

The first chord of Aranwen’s bladesong is deep, almost matching the chanting within the hall before it lifts into a crescendo as she advances. The Silver Cat’s roar and the clanging together of his blades play a brutal counterpoint to her song as he charges in beside her.

Even as Ch’dau lets loose his first slash at an enemy with one blade, his eyes seek out Garn and he points purposefully at the big monkey with the other. “YOU,” he bellows, “COME!!!”

Following his companions into the room, Gib holds his sword aloft and calls upon Therassor, the God of Righteous Battles, "Mightiest of Warriors, Father of Righteous Battle, Highmost General! Your enemy stands before me! Hold his limbs this day! Hold them fast!"

Having offered up the prayer and feeling the power of Therassor flow through him, Gib quickly grips his sword between his knees and raises the crossbow, taking aim at the blonde priestess. Pressing the trigger, he doesn't wait for confirmation of a hit or miss, instead, he swings his crossbow to his back, rolls his shield down onto his arm, gripping the handle tightly, and retrieves his sword.

"Give me strength," the warrior-priest's dirge is added to the noise of his companion's assault. "Give me courage. No more am I. No more am I..."

Moreno charges forward, shield before him, sword ready to strike. First to assist Ch'dau if he needs it against the warrior Garn, second to aid Aranwen in her fight with Davena.

Huzzah! Posts are an important part of the game.

I was hoping to have a post up but I've got a board meeting tomorrow that I had to spend today preparing for. Don't wait on me but if I find the time before you post, Olan, I'll post. Also, thank you for Battlefate. 

Looking forward to it.

I like that idea, Pekka. Now, let's see what the Mighty DM will allow.

Unfortunately, I didn't have a full hand to work with. Please get your posts in ASAP. I'll hope to be able to post by Wednesday morning.

This spell alters probability to favor one character or creature locked in battle. His opponent may stumble at an awkward time, a clumsy parry might catch the enemy’s weapon at just the right angle, or he happens to notice the foe moving in for a flank attack. The more powerful the priest, the more potent the aid; combat modifiers provided by battlefate equal +1 per three levels, so a 1st-level caster provides a +1 bonus, a 4th-level caster a +2 bonus, a 7th-level caster a +3, and so on to a maximum of +5 for a 13th-level priest. The exact form of the aid or assistance varies from round to round—roll a d6 to see which aspect of the subject’s combat abilities are affected in any given round. d6 Effect 1 Nothing happens 2 Defenses enhanced, apply bonus to subject AC 3 Luck enhanced, apply bonus to saving throws 4 Accuracy enhanced, apply bonus to attack rolls 5 Damage enhanced, apply bonus to damage rolls 6 Lucky opening! Subject gains one extra attack with either enhanced accuracy or damage (subject’s choice) If the character does not make a roll of the specified type in the round, he gains no benefit for the spell; for example, if the character gains the saving throw bonus but doesn’t have to make any saving throws during the round in question, battlefate doesn’t help him. Of course, in the following round, the spell may provide him with a different benefit. Note that on a roll of 1, battlefate does not help the character ththe priest intends to aid—such is the nature of chaos. The material component for this spell is an electrum coin tossed by the priest as he casts the spell.

So, this is what I'm thinking Gib and Cedric can do during their prep time. Raven, if you've other ideas, I'm all ears.

1. Cast Protection From Evil on Aranwen and Ch'dau (casting time 4/target 1 person/duration 9 rounds)


2. Cast Bless on the party (lasts 6 rounds)


3. Cast Invisibility to Undead on Aranwen and Ch'dau (casting time 4/target 1 person/duration 6 rounds)


4. Cast Battlefate on Aranwen and Ch'dau (casting time 4/target 1 person/duration 6 rounds)

This should leave the Protection from Evil spell going for another 6 rounds, Bless for 3 rounds, Invisibility to Undead for 4 rounds, and Battlefate for 5 rounds.

With his crossbow at ready, Gib will cast Hold Person on Garn (it might get Davena if the dice are really kind to us) hoping to give Ch'dau a true advantage and make it so he can quickly move on to Mistress Davena to aid Aranwen. That would be the 1st round of combat for Gib. The second round would be taking aim with the crossbow and firing it at Davena. The third round would be wading into battle with his sword and shield.

A lot depends on how many healing spells Gib had to use and how many Cedric had to use as well. If Gib and Cedric are splitting casting duty evenly, that's three 1st level prayers apiece and someone gets the Bless prayer. Or, if Olan rules that Cedric wouldn't have the Battlefate spell, that's four for Gib and three for Cedric.

Does anyone see any problem with this use of cleric magic and strategy? Particularly you, Olan, and you, Raven?

If we're good with this, I'll write up my post.

I've got a couple of questions.

1. What's the distance to Davena? Garn?


2. What are the approximate dimensions of the hall? Any chance we can get a map?


3. How many healing spells did Gib have to use? I need to know how many spell slots he has left.

Now for everyone else...

Gib has his crossbow. He could open with a shot at Davena. He's also going to be asking for Therassor's favor and casting a couple of spells on the party to give much needed bonuses going into battle. Alternatively, he could cast Hold Person on Garn and Davena to start things off and hope the die are in our favor. Seeing how we have time to prepare, let's discuss.

I just went through and approved the new avatars when I uploaded my new avatar. That one must have been one you submitted and checked the checkbox to have as your avatar when approved.

I did a new portrait of my Bromern Sal character and through I'd use it as the avatar. Here's the bigger version:

I think it was a different kind of shebang we're in store for, Eol. 

I'm boring you to death, Breebles?

Reralae, I read your mind and thought, "I should do that first, so I look cool!" But, you get all the credit!

I'm looking forward to more postesses! 

I'm dying of boredom... So, in honor of my son, Giddy, who will be unable to join me this Thanksgiving because, well, the Navy; I have posted for Nyle.

Stardate 2365.02.22
U.S.S. Peregrine; Deck 2 - COO Quarters – 0735

Nyle steps from the sonic shower and draws in a deep breath. The high-pitched setting is invigorating, especially after a Tohe’Marain session. Feeling limber, the lanky Daa'Vit makes his way to the wall where his closet is embedded. Passing his hand over the sensor, he patiently waits the short couple of seconds it takes for the computer to comply. Taking his newly pressed uniform from the hanger, Nyle inspects it for any unwanted wrinkles. Although his shift doesn't officially begin until Beta, there is still too much to catch up on and familiarize himself with for him to be lounging about all Alpha Shift.

Donning his uniform with respectful care, Nyle is interrupted by an insistent chirp.

=/= Lieutenant Nyle, =/= a voice he doesn't recognize comes across the com. =/= This is Petty Officer Riva. Captain Drake has called a senior officer staff meeting at oh-nine-hundred this morning. Shall I convey your RSVP? =/=

"Certainly, Mr. Riva," Nyle responds while looking at the ceiling as though he could see the Bajoran's face in the smooth surface.

=/= Thank you. =/=

Practicing another human expression, Nyle raises his thin eyebrows. Curious. What could be the reason, I wonder.

Completing his task of getting dressed—boots polished, pips aligned perfectly, and without any unwanted wrinkles—the COO moves to his desk and pulls the chair out. As he sits, he asks the time of the computer.

"Thank you," he absently acknowledges while activating his personal computer. "Please set an alarm for oh-eight-forty-five."

=/= An alarm has been set for oh-eight-forty-five this morning. =/=

Leaning forward, he places his left hand on his left knee and touches the message center with his right forefinger. "Finished with your Gamma report review already, Mr. Moriden? Efficient."

Opening the message, Nyle quickly devours the content. Thus the reason for the meeting. I had better prepare. Minimizing his message center, the COO opens his reports dashboard and begins the process of sorting through ship stores, maintenance schedules as outlined by Engineering, Security schedules, shuttle readiness, Medical supply requests, and more. The duties of Operations include bringing all of the different departments together to function as a useful entity. From what he had read, there's a vessel in need of rescue. Medical will definitely be involved, as will Security and Engineering which means that Operations will be very busy.

Setting the computer to compile the necessary data, he switches to his newly acquired department roster. Charcoal eyes scan the names and qualifications. Brok, Logistics; Tolaris, Transporters... certainly those two, and perhaps Amai. Amai should be awake by now. Miahaya Amai shares Beta shift with him, but Nyle can't fathom that she would be anything other than up and ready for the day. The other two will be working Alpha. It makes more sense to have the majority of the Operations department available during the primary shift.

"Computer," Nyle declares in a monotone voice as he settles back in his chair. "Display the most likely possible locations of the U.S.S. Serapis were it to be traveling at Warp Six from the destination of Starbase Eighteen for five days."

Looking at the star map that appears on his screen, the operations officer notes each flashing Starfleet logo. "Clear positions thirty-five through forty-two."

The screen makes the appropriate adjustments, removing the positions in the Peregrine's wake. Knowing this is all speculation, Nyle begins pulling data together on the top ten likely locations as best as he can figure based on nearby planets, spacial anomalies, known trade routes, and other points of interest that have already been registered on the map. Lost in his work, he nearly jumps in his chair when the alarm he'd set earlier sounds.

Silencing the interruption, the astute Daa'Vit immediately recalls the purpose of the alarm and marks his findings for availability on his padd. Striking an impressive stride, Nyle exits his quarters (padd in hand) and makes his way to the meeting already playing out possible interactions in his head.

It's embarrassing to have people at work see you hug yourself as you pretend that all of the players and the mighty GM are in a big group hug (that is pure and has no nastiness to it).

My phone did. *grumbles about autocorrect*

Is Olan coming up with a doozy of a post for our meeting? I'm so excited!!!

Ya... I figure we are going to have a little surprise with Kith. Gib's not aware that there's anything more to Kith's situation than what they experienced, however. So, this will be fun. 

The group is walking along a path and coming across a huge pile of excrement. 

Cedric: "Doo-doo, haha!"

Gib looking a bit perturbed: "Ka-ka."

Ch'dau: "Uj'nga."

We have more action! 

I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving. I'll want to post Monday morning if at all possible, so please do your best to post for your characters before then.

X00032:8.Y00001:12.Z00054:5, Frontline Apparel | Night City Integrate | Undercity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 9:15 AM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15 mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

“Hello,” a pleasant female voice chirps from right behind him. “You appear to be loitering. This is not permitted. Do you need assistance in making a purchase decision or will you be moving along?”

Most might have jumped out of their skin but M’haru Ghlahn hadn’t heard any doors open and knew he was alone so his immediate response is to recognize the interruption for what it is, an AI hologram. He can make out the reflection of the projection in the window, faint and ghost-like but there nonetheless and likely programmed to respond in this way because there are no human clerks to keep the downtrodden and troublemakers from using the costly space as a hangout.

Charlie breaks squelch. “Ghlahn, this is Drone, Over. Can you get eyes on an odd pair covered with blankets next to Einstein’s Book Emporium? Possible hostiles, use caution, over.”

Ignoring the AI hologram, Ghlahn shifts and scans up the street until he finds the sign for the Emporium. Just past the bumper of a parked car, he spots the pair that the fixer must be referring to. He can’t quite make out their details beneath the blanket covering but their body language is definitely suspect. Retrieving his rifle, the sniper peers through the scope to get more details.

“I really hate to bother you, sir,” the female programmed AI says with a sense of urgency in her tone. “It appears that you’ve produced a weapon. Are you in need of the police?”

Again ignoring the computer, Ghlahn sends back an answer. "Two people are doing a pretty good job of ‘hanging out’ indiscreetly as homeless people. One is sitting on the ground, the other is leaning against the building, both african-american, probably female. Can't get a real good look. Something just doesn't seem right about them. Don't think they are homeless but they seem to want people to think they are."

“Copy that,” Casino’s voice sounds over the radio. “If your two 'homeless' draw weapons and move toward us, take them out."

“Sir,” the AI tries again. “Please, sir. I don’t want any trouble. If you’re in need of the police, please let me know and I’ll call right away. If you’re not in need of the police, I insist that you holster your weapon and either make a purchase or leave immediately.”

(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 09:20 AM PST)

------------

X00032:8.Y00001:12.Z00054:5, 12th Alley | Night City Integrate | Undercity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 9:15 AM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15 mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

“Is this a grab and get out situation?” Bloodbank asks just as Echo reaches the mouth of the alley.

“I say we see what’s what and if the package is there,” the nomad woman pauses and scans what lies ahead, “we take him and get the hell outta here.”

Raising his eyebrows behind his combat mask, the medtech is surprised by her statement. She’s been calm for the most part, and more interested in doing things using diplomacy up until now. He suspects the whole situation with Casino and maybe even a little of what has happened to Vegas is to blame. “I know we’re on a clock, but there might be an opportunity to talk our way into a better position. I say we ‘sess the situation with an eye towards not spilling blood.”

Casino looks over to the medtech. “Not to inflame the situation more than I have already but so far ‘peace talks’ have gotten us nowhere. I say if the kid’s in here, we shake and bake the bad guys and get the kid the f**k home.”

Without another word, Casino follows Echo further into the ally, the roughly drawn canine skull of the Dead Dogs painted on walls barely giving him any pause. The heavy stink of odorous ammonia hits the groups nostrils practically the instant they step foot in the alley, mixed with a nearly overwhelming smell of mold. Then, there’s the first of a number of patchwork dwellings made of fabricated wood panels, bailing wire, canvas sheets, chicken wire, rusted steel pipes mixed with copper and PVC pipes, and packing plastics.

“Ok,” Fixer breaks his silence, “no telling what’s ahead but do we roust the people here and check the lighted hut, or move on?”

Fixer prefers to continue to listen more than offer advice. On an operation like this, he is not going to be the lead dog. But when a vote is called for, it is time to speak up. "Assessment seems best in almost all cases. And blood causes problems we'd rather not deal with if it isn't needed. We don't know he's here. If not, we need more info. Shooting first can make that hard.  Let’s get going, but… take it easy until we know something."

But that isn’t the only issue—it seems that they aren’t sure where in the alley to look. Voicing his opinion again, the techie shares what he remembers. "Didn't the address we got say the back end of the alley? I think we start there. We should have eyes on this end anyway if someone tries to leave. Or come at our backs. I'd say start at the far end. Unless one of you charming types wants to ask in the first tent about Rya’s location."  

Beyond this, he intends to follow their lead. So much of this is above his pay grade. He keeps his eyes and ears open while wondering if they look suspicious. He is torn between wanting to stay tightly together as a group and wanting to separate a bit to cover more ground visually, and to perhaps not let everyone know they are together, although that is probably obvious. Still, he stays near the back of the group and keeps his eyes on the rear. He tries to leave just enough room that he might not appear to be with the others, but wants to make darn sure they know where he is. An alley like this is filled with desperate people and they don’t know him as just another desperate person. Anyone of them could be a target for one of the kidnappers or just some poor sap who’s down on his luck, or never had any to begin with, up, down or otherwise.

“The alley is clear as far as I can tell,” Echo mumbles out the side of her mouth while shifting her SMG to a more ready position. With the decision on their approach split, she figures that she’ll follow Casino’s lead (He’s got way more experience than the rest of us…), she leads the party of four into the ramshackle array of shacks and tents. 

To the nomad’s thinking, the alley is about 60 meters entrance to end, but it continues around to the left. The first twenty, or so, are filled with refuse, filth, and discarded “building” materials. It isn’t in the least bit inviting and in no way says to her, come on in. The buildings on either side have been tagged with so much graffiti that it is nearly impossible for her to decipher any of it. One that she does take notice of is the roughly drawn canine skull of the Dead Dogs. Odorous ammonia strikes her nostrils practically the instant she steps foot in the alley, mixed with a nearly overwhelming smell of mold, Echo fights against her watering eyes. Then, there’s the first patchwork dwelling. 

Moving past the shack, Casino watches as Echo makes her way towards yet another ramshackle pieced-together dwelling, smaller than the first and, like the first, spilling forth light from cracks in its construction. The big solo can see yet a third pieced-together shelter beyond that is almost hidden in the dark of the ally but thanks to his optic spliced eyes, the big solo has no problem listing it in his brain for possible later reference.

Charlie breaks squelch, his muffled voice barely audible from Casino’s jacket pocket. “Ghlahn, this is Drone, Over. Can you get eyes on an odd pair covered with blankets next to Einstein’s Book Emporium? Possible hostiles, use caution, over.”

A couple of minutes pass as Echo leads the troop cautiously past the second shack, her submachine gun held at ready before her in a tactical advance. Casino advances just a few steps behind, his preferred weapon at the ready as well.

Ghlahn sends back an answer, his reply muted a bit by the materials of the coat. "Two people are doing a pretty good job of ‘hanging out’ indiscreetly as homeless people. One is sitting on the ground, the other is leaning against the building, both african-american, probably female. Can't get a real good look. Something just doesn't seem right about them. Don't think they are homeless but they seem to want people to think they are."

Casino fetches the walkie from his pocket and keys the mic, “Copy that. If your two 'homeless' draw weapons and move toward us, take them out."

So much for diplomacy, Bloodbank thinks bitterly. His pistol feels very heavy at the moment, as though it is reminding him of the spiritual weight it carries. Apprehension rises within the chest of the medic with every step they take. Why does it always have to be shoot first and ask questions later with these types? Of course, he remembers the possibility of a second team bearing down on them but he is keenly aware that a firefight often has collateral damage and their goal was to bring Jase back alive and in good condition.

No lights are on in the third shack. It is clearly made of the same materials as the others but for the moment, registers with the lead pair as empty. A fourth shack on the right side of the alley is also showing as empty, so Echo leads the group up to the corner and raises her left fist… Raising his hand to stop the others, Casino calls for them to stop.

Peering around the corner, Echo surveys the remainder of the alley with a critical eye. There’s only approximately twenty- to twenty-five meters of real estate left in 12th Alley. Just around the corner and four or five meters from her position is another small shack. Made of Plood™ planks and plastic portions of shipping containers, there’s visible light inside. At the end of the alley, an estimated fifteen meters away, is the poorly constructed Plood™ entrance to a shack that appears to be attached to a military tent spanning the width of the alleyway. The canvas of the tent is too thick to allow light to seep through, but there is a small stream of smoke coming out of the stove pipe on the right side of the tent.

“We have two possibilities,” Echo informs Casino quietly. “Someone’s home in both cases.”

(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 09:20 AM PST)

------------

X00032:8.Y00001:12.Z00054:5, 13th Street | Night City Integrate | Undercity | UrbanZone - March 9th, Day 3 (Sunday), 9:15 AM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15 mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)

Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

Activating the fans, Luther lifts the aerodyne from its resting position and pulls away from the curb, spraying water all about the battered vehicle and causing more than one of the loitering street population to exclaim in annoyance. Quickly passing the rest of their team, Charlie heads for the turn up ahead to make his rounds of the block.

“I’m going to attempt to tap into the Cop-camera down the street,” Blossom states, pulling her keyboard from her bracer and shifting her weight on the uncomfortably hard seat. 

“ You know…” Cred Stick Charlie says with consideration, “Something is bothering me Bloss... did you see that odd pair back on the corner?” Charlie cocks his head to the side a bit. “Those two that were covered up in blankets on the corner near Einstein’s Book Emporium? What strikes me as strange is that it isn’t the best place to ask people passing by for money first off, the other is, I really can't see their features, they were moving around so much, but not very animated like most people asking and engaging others for handouts. They seem to me just waiting for something and this is what makes me really nervous. There aren’t any other OBVIOUS homeless people around here.” 

Charlie eases off the fans and slows down a bit, then resumes the posted speed before continuing his talk with the netrunner. “What's more, is that they are being left alone by the public nearby whereas the public isn't really leaving anyone else alone. I got a bad feeling about this Bloss and it could spell some trouble for us.”

Looking back out the plastic window of the ragtop, Blossom frowns. “I saw nothin’.” 

Charlie decides to break squelch and picks up the radio from where it rests between the front seats. “Ghlahn, this is Drone, Over. Can you get eyes on an odd pair covered with blankets next to Einstein’s Book Emporium? Possible hostiles, use caution, over.”

Charlie looks to Blossom, “You think that you can get a look at those two via cop cam? I could try pulling over, doubling back if you need me to.” 

“The nearest cop cam is two blocks south of here,” the Asian beauty shakes her head slightly, her wet platinum blond hair clinging to her elegant neck. “Won’t do us any good in this case.”

Drawing inside his core, Charlie attempts to recall and use his database access to look for a possible match. Images that Blossom had previously shared flash up on his HUD display. He doesn’t have the two suspect’s faces but something might hit, and If either hits, it will be a gang member or worse... one of Santa's elves waiting to clean up his mess. Charlie's stomach twists and turns at this thought. Will it be the end or is his imagination running wild and the shadows playing tricks? 

Ghlahn sends back an answer. "Two people are doing a pretty good job of ‘hanging out’ indiscreetly as homeless people. One is sitting on the ground, the other is leaning against the building, both african-american, probably female. Can't get a real good look. Something just doesn't seem right about them. Don't think they are homeless but they seem to want people to think they are."

Casino’s order follows right on the heels of the CEE-metal’s, “Copy that. If your two 'homeless' draw weapons and move toward us, take them out."

As the faces fly by in a rather distracting manner, Luther speaks once again to Blossom. “Hey… kiddo, if we all make out if this soggy messed-up sandwich, I plan to let you guys stay with me from time to time so that you guys don’t have to squat for the night in some godless hellhole. You know what I mean?” 

“You try’na make a team out of us, pretty boy?” the netrunner responds distractedly as she plugs away at her keyboard.

Charlie nods his head. “I couldn’t do what you’ll do... Maybe I’m just too spoiled but so be it. At least I can help out with things and get us into better jobs. I’m just trying to make a mark like everyone else here. I got things but I want more, you know?”

“Uh-huh,” Blossom acknowledges.

“I mean—I got this truck that I’m piecing back together and I was thinking that we might be able to equip it better if I can get everyone’s help. Heck... maybe we could pimp it out with a portable doc cocoon for Bloodbank, an electronic suite for someone like you and a nice paint job so that I don’t ruin my threads when riding in it.” Charlie smiles and pops his collar while giving Blossom a sideways glance.

“Mmm,” she stares ahead at something that the fixer can’t see and pulls her diminishing lollipop from her mouth. Using the sucker like a baton, she taps the air three times, pauses, then two more. “Yup. That’s it.”

Plopping the candy back into her mouth, she returns to typing. After a moment, she responds, “You got yourself a hard sale, Zute Suit. We’ll see, right?”

Reaching the corner near the church again, Charlie slows and rolls onto the cross street bringing the Jeep back onto the street they had first made the area through. A pedestrian wearing a pair of slacks, tucked-in button up shirt, and a dark green rain hooded rain slick is the closest person outside of the aerodyne. About mid-way down the block, the group of people who had been hanging out in front of the West Baptist’s Church has thinned out a bit, but there’s still quite a few individuals.

“Got it,” Blossom breathes out hard. “The cop cam is mine. I’ve also got a cop channel broadcasting app running. If the po-po are involved I’ll have their twenty before they’re a threat to us. Net traffic is pretty benign as well but to see the bones of the matter, I’d have to completely jack in.”

Looking sideways at the fixer, she smiles slyly, “Will you be okay all on your little lonesome while I go virtual?”

(OOC: Assuming a yes, of course&hellip

Settling back in the worn seat, the gorgeous blond rests her head against the headrest and retracts her keyboard back into her bracer. After a moment, the only signs of life she shows are the slow rise and fall of her breasts.

(OOC: March 9th, Day 3 - Sunday, Time is 09:20 AM PST - 19th Street)

I trust you, Olan. I trust you to make this interesting. And Raven, poor Cedric. Love the way you're playing him.

Oh, I'd thought about the wounds. Gib is definitely on that.

Therassor is the best. Hands down. Moreno will argue with you any day of the week on that front.  Personally, I like the lesser known god, Bromern Sal. He's the bomb-diggity.

Gib does his best to pick up on any nuances in the priest's speech. There are still many unanswered questions and possibilities. Where the game of politics is concerned, the warrior-cleric is unpracticed but not unaware. The opportunity being presented could be a move to gain favor with Davena as much as it could be to destroy her. Are you going to pretend to be our ally in this only to turn on us as soon as the battle starts and defend your priestess? Suspicion is a slippery slope and Moreno swallows it bitterly. He cannot afford to flounder at any point due to his conjectures.

Remaining silent throughout the exchange, Gib pauses everyone once they are taken to the cell where their gear is stored to make sure all are healed from their wounds. There's no point in rushing into battle with old injuries sealing their fate early. (OOC: Gib will cast Cure Light Wounds on any who need it.)

His armor feels a little loose but there's also a feeling of strength in being re-equipped. Sword in hand, Gib offers a silent prayer of gratitude to Therassor for this opportunity and once again, consecrates his soul to the God of Just Battle should he fall this day. 

Just leave Science out of the practice, please. We ate saving babies up in here. 

I'm used to being called a bad influence, but Gib isn't. 

Live fire at staff!!! Live fire!!!

I've updated the Logbook.