Rashida's inscrutable black eyes regard Cassie evenly for a moment, then she nods slightly. "When we get back to the ship?"
"In the meantime, I think Ysillith and you or 'Squirrel' should take the lead. I'm not much use in a fight, really." She gently shoves the group into formation and urges them onward, glancing back to see if anyone was catching up. "Let's go!"
Gazing into the black orbs; the fear in her stomach swelling. Cassie then nods back, before moving forward to Ysillith and advancing down the corridor. 'I'd best take the point with Ysillith, there's some tension between her and Squirrel. Best keep them apart.'
Softly she slides up the corridor, going on-point. Past the spirit lamps hanging regularly and casting disturbing shadows; to the French-womans ears they seem to be whispering a warning.
The time seems to stretch out, it seems as if the night has been going on for weeks. Finally they near the end of the corridor, but up ahead there is a silhouette. A pair of humanoid figures who must be easily 7 foot tall, stand stock still.
She crouches low and nods to Ysillith, the pistol naked in the French-womans hand. Calming her breathing, getting herself into the Zen state ready to do battle. Muscles relaxing and tensing as she prepares.
Suddenly she moves forward, like a gazelle she dashes towards the left-most guard. The figure moves with a gentle grind of cogs as it starts to raise it's pistol arm. A grotesque mockery of humanity, limbs slightly too long and bulky for a humans. The arms end in dark large bore weapons with red eyes, thick metal being able to deflect small arms fire. A soft miasma of oil, the same oil Cassie remembers from Von Ryuko's hanger, emanates from the beings.
The most inhuman part is where their face is, a blank mask faces out.
"Careful!" Rashida hisses at Cassie and Ysillith, "Make sure nothing hits the glass walls! Who knows if they will stop a projectile, or one of those green ray things?"
She moves up behind Cassie and Ysillith, but not too close, surveying the area behind the eerie constructs. They're on guard about twenty feet beyond another of the airlock-style doors, which is closed.
Ysillith nods at the Technician's words standing and moving off towards their target. She shows Rashida, Cassie and Ralph the weird key/trinket the fellow has given her.
"Well...if this thing were chasing wants to send this place off with a 'bang', least we can do is inconvenience it, hey?' She says.
Upon coming to the first two new adversaries Ysillith seems to show no discomfort in viewing these 'new' combatants, though she does hang back and observe their motions as they com under attack from Rashida Cassie and Ralph.
Noting the slowness of their movements and the distinct lack of forethought she smiles slyly and simply removes her bandanna. With her true form revealed, she wastes no time with explanations and simply accelerates into a charge at the right-most figure as Cassie deftly begins to deal with the one on the left.
The target of Ysillith's charge seens to barely have begu to respond to her sudden appearance as the tall, horned Amazon slams into its form. The great horns upon Ysillith's brow smashing into the thing's chest and her momentum carrying it and her clean into the room, even as the loud 'Ker-ANG' of their impact rings out. The force of Ysillith's blow such that her victim actually comes apart with limbs coming away to fall by the wayside.
Too soon Ysillith's momentum comes to a halt and, though she shows little effort, with a heave she hurls the remains of her target up and into the central space of the great chamber beyond the entry portal.
Rashida watched the warriors advance and her mind went *click click click*, flashing through calculations in a microsecond.
If they crack or outright break the glass, the lake will rush in. The watertight door is closed. We'll never be able to open it against water pressure. The constructs won't care. They may have been ordered to do that very thing to stop us. We'll have to try to make it to the surface of the lake, or drown. If that door stays closed, we're in terrible danger. I don't even know if the others can swim.
She watched the fighters, noted their relative velocities and positions, figured the likely consequences of their actions, and picked her course.
In a blur of gold, she danced among the combatants, zipping, halting, whirling, changing direction, ducking to avoid weapons. Suddenly, even before Ysillith's horns contacted her foe, Rashida was at the door and spinning the wheel, stomach sinking at the thought it might not move, that it would be dogged down from the other side.
But the wheel spun and the seals hissed as the air pressure on either side of the door equalized. As she breathed a sigh of relief, she remembered Ysillith's charge. Hurling herself backwards, she carried the door with her, opening it just as the amazon carried the bulk of the construct through and into the next room. She slammed back violently and the massive door flew open wide, smashing her against the wall with the force of its momentum.
Rushing the creature, the sightless robot moves an arm with mechanically quick reactions. 'It's going to fire; should I just get in the way?' Then she makes a decision with a trio of shots as she dives forward. First hits the barrel momentarily stopping it's shot, whilst the second takes the red light. Whilst the final one smashes into the shoulder, fusing it and making the entire limb immobile.
With a graceful dancers steps she spins up close to the creature, getting in close before it can launch a volley with it's other arm gun.
The unseeing eye turns towards her and the dancer ends up looking straight at her own visage. Calm detachment and pain scrawled across her face makes her pause for a moment. The lightning fast fists swing into her midriff, lifting her off her feet. Fighting to regain her breath, vision blurry at the edges she kicks at the drawing back elbow.
Opening her hips into the textbook spin kick, her foot connects with the joint. 'Anywhere else and the armour would break my foot and do little else.' Upon impact there is a crump of torn metal, the blow causes a spray of cogs and a burst of steam. The pins and shafts holding the lower arm in place fail under the enormous weight; it falls to the ground with a crash that reverberates down the tunnel.
Blood gently dribbling from her shin where a cog is embedded, the French-nobleman's leg flicks out again. This time in a sweeping motion as the robot stumbles backwards from the loss of it's arm. Cassie follows up and the Mark I crunches upon the floor with a loud clang.
Upon it's back it struggles but cannot rise or move. Turning to the others and finding only Squirrel she nods with a detached smile; "Let's advance."
Then moves into the room after Ysillith and Rashida.
The door swings away from the wall and Rashida sees a pair of worried brown eyes along with an extended hand.
"Y'a'right dere, Cleo?"
Rashida finally took a careful breath and stood for a moment conducting inventory. She was certain she'd felt something crack when the wheel's edge hit her midsection, but wasn't sure. There was a lot of squashy pain, that was certain.
This is stupid. I'm not even in combat and I'm getting hurt.
With a nod at Ralph, Rashida takes his hand and pulls away from the wall, moving carefully. "Thank you, 'Squirrel'. I'm fine. I'll follow you in."
She steps gingerly through the doorway after Ralph, to where Cassie and Ysillith stand at the bottom of an enormous cylindrical room several stories high, eerily lit by varicolored steam flowing through sections of clear glass tubing with occasional spirit-lamps attached to the grid of beams running through the space, supporting both the colorsteam piping and panels of shimmering metallic mesh stretched in all different directions, areas of the mesh seeming to fade in and out of reality at random intervals. The effect was hypnotic, so much so that they barely noticed the half-dozen clockwork guard racheting forward in lockstep, closing in menacingly with pincers and rotating knives.
"'sa good ting ya gots dat door open when ya did Cleo" Ralph says as he helps the regal woman "Cap'n hit dat ting so hard da pieces coulda easily cracked dis glass if it ain't been pushed inta da udder room, an' I ain't really in da mood fer a swim. Looked like it hoit dough."
He looks about in amazement at the shimmering colours in the room it takes him a moment to notice the menacing clockwork figures approaching. Upon realizing that these machines were here threatening them he brandishes the stiletto ready to strike. He acts defensively, his priority seeming to be protecting Rashida, and Cassie although she tends to be harder to keep track of, if they can avoid these things and move without having to directly confront them he will.
Ysillith casts the remains of the wind up soldier she's smashed into the room aside, laughing as she does so. In her hands she holds one of the machine's arms and with a quick skip braces her legs.
*Ka-chick-tik, tik, tik, tik,*
*Ka-chick, tik, tik, tik, tik,*
*Ka-chick-tik, tik, tik, tik,*
*Ka-chick, tik, tik, tik, tik,*
*Ka-chick-tik, tik, tik, tik,*
*Ka-chick, tik, tik, tik, tik,*
*CLICK*
*Ka-chick, tik, tik, tik, tik,*
*CLICK*
*Ka-chick, tik, tik, tik, tik,*
The first loud blast only winging one of the advancing menaces, though the gun's blast more than enough to have it stumbling and falling in a heap. The Captain's other shots, now ranged in with the weapon's abilities, are far more precise and devastating. As she pumps the empty weapon's mechanisms a few more times she laughs,
"Oh YEAH! Always wanted a go at one of them clock-work guns the blue coats always sport!" She exults, though about what exactly none of the others are sure. She casually throws the spent weapon away to clatter amongst the other debris,
"Okay, what's what and what should we break next?" She calls, even as her eyes roam over the expanse of the large chamber.
The Duchess peers towards Drake and simply inclines her head, "I shall follow you then. You seem to know what you are doing. I am a pacifist, keep in mind, but I am also a helmetcat. If you need something done, just ask, and I will tell you if I can manage it."
Cassie sidles into the room, the gun fire reverberating around the chamber. As the echo's fade, she shakes her head. "That's an entrance! So now that we have made our presence known..." her words are cut off by the mesmerising pipes.
Swirling kaleidoscope or colours running across the ceiling and he the flickering pipes, hypnotised she looks up at the flowing tubes. "What absinthe induced nightmare is this?" she whispers in her thick accent to herself, feeling drawn to it chaos.
Hiking her skirt up, she moves towards a column and wrapping a leg around it Cassie shimmies up the steel I-section leaving a red trail during the ascension. Reaching out to a nearby transparent section of pipe, it roils and curls like smoke. The red mixes with a streak of royal blue spinning around each other in a dance as they flow through the tube. Reminded of her 'Power-tube' hidden upon the Duchesses ship, the French Noble touches the glass her senses wide open.
A flood of emotion overcomes her very being, threatening her grip.
Tears a shuddering gasp from her ruby lips, eye's wide in emotional shock. "What are these for?" she wonders looking around the chamber following them upwards and back towards the tunnel. There she sees the wreckage of the sentinels. Her one still slowly kicking, trying to get to it's feet.
"What sort of mad-man would put weapons that powerful in a glazed pipe." she realises her question. "Oh, Wowbagger." the melancholy words slip from her ruby lips with an edge of menace. 'Is he really trying to kill us or just harry us so we make a mistake...oh..no.' A revelation smashes into her consciousness.
"He wants us to destroy this place, or be here whilst he destroys it. Then he'll blame it upon us, make it seem we are crazed murderers. Destroying private property. Terrorists." her voice urgent and shocked.
Blinking away shining eyes; "Some of us have motivation too." she waits barely wishing to look at the others lest they see into her heart; but she finally turns observing the others thoughts on this.
Ysillith kneels, checking on the state of some of the arm-weapons. Picking up items and discarding them with a soft, disappointed huff. She watches Cassie clamber up the piping and do...something.
At Cassie's words Ysillith just tilts her head, "And why shouldn't we just smash and grab the place, then?" She asks.
"They probably have someone watching, ready to report. You wouldn't want to be black-balled from all the events? Whilst our enemies sit warmly by their fires enjoying themselves." she looks sadly, slowly climbing down the column.
Ysillith keeps her own council on what she might or might do in regards to her actions and simply looks back towards the door the group cam in through.
"Well..if it's a trap, then getting out the way we came in seems like the go...The faster, the better."
"Probably best we wait for the others and carry on. Le blue freak may be trying something dangerous?" Cassie looks to the others; "What do you thing?"
Rashida regards the humming, swirling interior of the facility with narrow eyes, tapping one long, golden fingernail against her lips as she prowls among the wreckage of the clockwork men.
"I think..." she says slowly, "...well, several things. If that Wowbagger personage expected to kill the partygoers tonight, he was doubtless surprised by the retinue that Cassie has collected. They are wild cards whose full capabilities have yet to be seen... if they stay with us."
She paces a few more steps. "If he expected to kill us at the opera tonight, then this place was planned as an escape - a retreat - not a trap. That doesn't mean it is safe, of course, but it may not be as deadly as you expect."
"Thirdly, that entire theater is exceedingly dangerous. We all saw the patrons cut down, did we not? Why? What is it for? Why is it allowed to operate here, among so many important people? Its purpose is doubtless connected to this facility's. And I must admit, I am highly curious about this place."
She sighs. "Fourth, Wowbagger's use of this route may not be voluntary. He and his associates may have forcibly occupied it. Which means people here might need help." Rashida's nose wrinkles in distaste. "I'm not terribly inclined to help those associated with the slaughter in the theater, but there may be innocents among them, or those who could give us information or aid in our quest to solve Von Ryuko's mystery."
She smiles grimly and laughs humorlessly. "That's a long-winded way of voting that we move forward, figure out what this place is, and try to catch the assassins -- if they're not already long gone. I'd prefer to wait for the others, but we have no idea if they are going to join us."
The French-woman nods as Rashida talks; a cheeky smile sliding at the mention of Cassie's retinue. And she looks to Ralph with a wink; before her mind goes back to the solemn matter at hand.
"I agree, we must help those we can. Whilst figuring out what this place is...." her tone compassionate as she moves to place her hand upon Rashida's shoulder. Her touch tentative; "The coloured pipes seem to have some passion and emotion flowing through them; sort of what you could expect an opera to generate in it's patrons."
Ysillith finishes sorting through the 'junk' that is left of the initial servitors.
"Okay then. We go onwards..." She looks around, seeming a little nonplussed.
"Um...which way would that be, then?" She peers about for something which might be familiar within the tangled runs of pipes, conduits and ducting...
With a soft stride, her motion slightly awkward with her injuries, she circumnavigates the room. Ducking under pipes and avoiding the phasing cloth as she follows the pipes, eyes intent upon their mesmerising form. The swirling colours flow and change much like her long dress.
With a soft clang she starts to ascend an iron spiral staircase, which rises like a spire through the ceiling. Iron spindles seem to be carved in an intricate fashion depicting vines growing around a fork of lightning. Her heels softly clang upon the open steps, shapely taut legs peek out from beneath her dress as she climbs towards the high ceiling. "This way."
Exiting the circular chamber, a hand upon the balustrade the other holding her silver pistol confidently. She emerges upon a corridor, the ceiling high with the pipes running down one wall. Cautiously she walks down the passage, it's dull green walls giving an institutional air. As she is about to pass a door, there's a slight noise from within.
Deciding the immediate danger has passed Ralph listens to the others as they discuss what to do next and smiles slightly at Cassie's wink "Wild maybe, but if dis Joe's s'pposed ta be immor'al den I ain't know if dere's much good i'mma do gainst 'im. The cap'n maybe... but I ain't tink Jack's da type ta be wurried 'bout a kid wit a bullet wound and a poker." He makes a slight stabbing motion with the dark blade.
He doesn't hesitate to follow along after Cassie, but makes sure to keep an eye on the captain, not willing to turn his back on the potentially very large threat she poses. "We oughta be real careful dough Cleo tinks dis could be a planned route to escape, if it were me an I had da means ta do so I'd be makin real dere ain't nobody dat cin follow." peering ahead at the door in front of Cassie he adds "Sumtin like a booby trapped door, 'r sum way ta flood da tunnel from da udder side."
"Flooding in the tunnel is why I jammed the doors open..." Ysillith reminds young Ralph, even as the tall woman edges closer to peer around the door frame into whatever room leads off the great vent chamber.
The little kobold reaches out a short arm for whatever it is the man above him is holding out. After waving it around uselessly for a minute, Clousuk lets out an frustrated sound.
"Waaaugh! I cannot reach it!" Clousuk says nasally.
His reptilian hearing brings the whisper of a sound to his ears beyond the renewed singing and music.
"Monsieur! I believe zerr is zomeone - or zometing - behind you."
The League Agent can't help but look over his own shoulder as he says this. Blessed darkness greets his eyes.
Ralph looks towards Ysillith "Yeah... ya say dat as if havin da door open is gonna stop im from floodin da tunnels. Jus means dat da whole op'ra house'll be flooded an' since ya wrecked da controls dere's no way ta stop da entire lake from comin in."
He comes up next to Cassie and asks her quietly "Ya hear sumtin in dere Minx?"
The tip of her tongue slowly runs across her ruby lips in concentration. "Oui." she lets out a breathless sigh that causes an enticing bounce to her dress.
Sliding her finger down the steel architrave of the door, there's a soft tut as she examines the door for traps. Crouching down she looks at the doors lock, pooling by her feet is the dark dress. Her naked back exposed to the corridor causes her to shiver, whilst her skilled fingers probe the doors lock.
Moments later there's a soft crump; palm to the door she shoves it hard. Swinging open it reveals a small office. Lacking the ornamentation of authority; the plain utilitarian appearance of a clerks office. Cassie glides forward pistol in her off-hand as she dives across the tall desk.
Landing with a thump on the other-side, this is followed by a whimper. As she rises to her feet again, her pistol is to the chest of a grey accountant. "Don't shoot, tell her not to shoot!" the bean-counter implores.
Just how far does this chute go? Vorian wonders with a frown as he peers into the darkness below. Despite his best efforts, he could not see the kobold inspector. Gritting his teeth in frustration, for one last time he attempts to lower his cane further down, to no avail. It's no use, I can't reach... The noble's thought come crashing to a halt when he hears Clousuk's warning. Suddenly taken by the familiar feeling of being watched, Vorian quickly turns to look over his shoulder.
His eyes widen in shock.
How in blazes...?!
Surely enough, there was not just one, but two someones behind him. Making out their forms was easy enough - the closer of the two was no more than three feet behind. With dozens of thoughts racing through his mind in that instant, Vorian glances at the still figure up and down. Even in the darkness, their garb was unmistakable.
Ninja!
Sheer instinct kicking in, Vorian suddenly throws himself down the ventilation shaft. Only after doing so does he consider the consequences of his brash action...
Cassie vanishes up the twisting steps, her latest conquest trotting behind. "Ysillith, you've cleared this area nicely and it should be safe. Keep an eye on those two, will you? I'm going to poke around down here for a minute to see if the others catch up. It's not like I can help much in a tussle."
Rashida pokes her head out the door to see if anybody else is visible down the long, dark glass tunnel, then swings the door to but does not dog it shut. She kneels by the remnants of the welcoming committee, carefully snaking slender hands past the jagged metal ringing the newest holes to probe carefully in their innards. Did you have souls? Did you feel? Where does the soul even live? she wonders quietly to herself, Von Ryuko must have found a way to store it somehow. I wish I knew what models these were. She sighs softly.
The small kobold hears a clattering from inside the vent. The sound comes closer...
"Waaaauuugghh!" Clousuk shrieks as the gentleman adventurer comes barreling into view. Clousuk's low-light reptilian showed the kobold he probably didn't have enough time to get out of the way...but with claws scrabbling on the metallic vent, he sure tries.
Questions continue to run through the noble's mind as he gracelessly tumbles down the steep vent, into the unknown. Why were there ninja in the opera house? Who were they after? Him? How had they managed to catch him off guard so easily? Were they the ones who had called his name earlier? And just where in blazes does this ventilation shaft lead? When the kobold inspector finally comes into view, frantically attempting to move out of the way, Vorian realizes that a collision is imminent. In the mere second before he crashes into the small creature, one last question emerges, this one finding its way out of his mouth. "This is going to hurt, is it?"
The impact is... less than pleasant. Despite Clousuk's desperate attempts, Vorian slams into the poor kobold head first, knocking them both further down the pit the inspector had been trying so hard to claw his way out of. The sharp knock to the noble's skull abolishes his countless queries, leaving him to wonder if he was about to die here, of all places.
Slicked back black hair and a pencil thin moustasche, impeccably kept and tidy, the man looks around the trio. His eyes widen at Cassie and Ysillith as if seeing something that's not there. Head lilting to one side he starts to titter, the sound putting the nerves on edge due to the high pitched warble. Then he starts to sing....
♪ "Welcome to the Jungle, we've got fun and games. ♫
♫ We got everyone you want honey, we know the all names; ♪
♪ We make the people that you find; whomever you may need. ♫
♫ If you got the money honey; we got your disease. ♪"
Cassie takes a step back from the crazed man, despite him not moving a muscle.
Ralph looks into the room at the strange man eyeing him warily as he titters and starts to sing. "Who's dis Joker?" He sees Cassie step back seeming unnerved by the man, and moves forward a bit "Hey pal ya on sumtin? Sumbuddy give ya sum bad foozeballs er sumtin? Did ya happen ta see a blue fuzzy Joe come trough here?" He keeps his blade ready in case the man decides to become hostile.
Alone with the corpses of the mechanical men, Rashida avoids the still-twitching mech which seems disabled, examining the one in the most pieces first. Why didn't I study something useful like mechanical engineering?History and politics are so limited.
She strips off the covering of the face and limbs, finding it to be some sort of artificial material. There is nothing organic about it: no blood, no warmth, no life to it at all. Her brow crinkles delicately as she continues to probe, clearing away limb fragments to get the heart of the works and try to make some sense of the tangle of cogs, shafts, and tubes that comprise the mechanical men.
Glistening wet lines lace through the shattered works, originating at sturdy flexible tubes still dripping hydraulic fluid. Rashida traces the tubing back to several independent storage cylinders. She pries loose a couple which are dangling and shakes them, nodding with satisfaction at a tiny sloshing sound. Setting the unbreached canisters aside, she continues her exploration of the works, searching for the motive force and the seat of whatever intelligence the thing possessed before blasts of high-velocity metal tore it to shreds.
As the nobleman comes down on top of him, Clousuk lets out a squawk. The two slide further down the colorsteam shaft. As they slide, Clousuk finds himself wondering exactly what color this one is or if it is another rainbow one. He realizes how silly these thoughts are, and shakes his head to clear them. The two humanoids slowly stop as the shaft evens out.
The man called Vorian is still solidly on top of him, dazed from knocking his head into the kobold's thick skull. A sudden roar of applause echoing up the shaft snaps Clousuk out of his reverie. He instinctively inhales in response to the sudden noise, and the scent of his attackers fills his nostrils.
Non! Zis cannot be how it endz!
With a sudden heave, the little reptillian agent lifts Vorian's semi-conscious body over his head. Then with a burst of adrenaline born of survival, Clousuk runs down the shaft looking for a way out.
"We are away, Monsieur! Clousuk cries trying to be heard over the cheers of the audience as the opera ends. "I will zave uz!"
In his dazed state, Vorian notices that somehow, despite whatever ordeal brought the investigator into these shafts, Clousuk still had his pretty silk top hat perched jauntily on his head. Absurdity was certainly not in short supply here at the Clockwork Theater.
Rocking back and forth whilst perched upon the edge of the desk, he nods at Ralphs words, showing he understands and that there might be some hope for the clerks sanity.
♫ "Blue Pixie, blue sprite;
Running around here,
Shooting on sight."♫
With his bow-tie askew he looks wide eyed towards the French-woman, his pawing hand reaching for her dress. She steps to the side avoiding the fumble; "Do you want to sit in the chair again Miss Cassie? The blue man made me sit there." he asks giving a big smile. Pink stained teeth showing where he has bitten his tongue heavily.
"Buzz & Fizz, went all the stars so bright!
I should show you." The man capers out of the office trying to push past Ralph and out into the long establishment green corridor. The capering clerk makes a soft chittering sound with his rolling gait.
Ysillith simply stares after the man.
"Did some one hit him too hard in tha' head, or somat?" She asks questioningly.
With a wild look in his eye he turns to Ysillith; "Nope, I have my cap on." he pats his head. "The chair comes with a cap and it stays."
After half a dozen he starts rubbing his stomach too, until he ends up patting his stomach and rubbing his head. Hair messed up he skips down the corridor.
Ysillith stays standing within the door way.
"So...we give the room a quick once over to gather anything of interest and then what say we follow yon feller?" She suggeests.
Unfortunately understanding Ralph's strange accent, and manner of speech isn't the best sign of sanity, also the nod didn't indicate which question the man was answering, perhaps all of them.
This odd man seemed to know Cassie, referring to her by name, which Ralph supposes shouldn't be a big surprise, everyone seemed to know Cassie. When pencil moustache makes an attempt to grab the French woman's dress and she evades Ralph puts himself between them to discourage any further attempts. "Whoa easy pally, dat's my date."
Thankfully the man is quickly distracted by Ysillith, and then starts off down the hall. "I seen sum Joes on sum bad stuff b'fore, but I tink dis guy takes da cake."
Looking around the office it is meticulously neat, something you wouldn't have associated with the raving mad man. Upon the desk a single small iconograph of a prim lady, and a pot of ink. In the draw is a brass bound ledger, the dark red leather speaking of age and authority. Inside are columns of numbers in a very neat script.
Elsewhere in the office are rows of boring books near identical as part of a collection & a long coat hung up on a hook. The faint scent of tobacco drifts on the air, tinged with old leather.
Ysillith gives the bumbling man one last glance before quickly sauntering into the room.
Lifting the coat and draping it over one arm. Dropping the picture into one of the coat pockets and thence pulling out first the top drawer of the desk and looking through its contents, before putting it down and doing the same with the rest. Anything of shine or value that catches her eye also disappears into a coat pocket.
Once the desk has been strip-searched, she moves to the books and begins to pull the tops out to peer at the pages and spines...
"The Hooga scent in't half bad..." She murmurs, her eyes gazing about as she searches for the origin of the smell of tobacco.
Drake stops descending then gets out of the stairwell. He looks around with a concerned countenance as he tries to determine what to do. He points at the two then to the ground to indicate to stay where they were then rushes off to where his seats had been, grabs his medical case and runs back. He opens it and takes a quick look, nods then turns to Alyce.
"Let's go, Alyce. My dear Duchess, come along with me please. My shoulder should be a good riding spot for you."
The doctor waits long enough for the helmetcat to get into position then goes down the stairs and stops at the bottom, leaving enough room for Alyce to stand as well. He waits for the gloom to adjust within his sight then takes a deep breath.
"Dear Duchess. If you will call out where we are into my ear but not too loud. You will be my eyes, if you will." He pets the cat with a smile as he adores animals and the Duchess has sweet, soft fur, "Alyce, you will hold my arm with the bag and follow along beside and just behind me. Let's go."
"Ugh..." Vorian groans, stunned by the sharp knock to his head. He had not been sure what to expect when he jumped down the steep shaft headfirst. In fact, he had not been thinking at all. Left with a pounding headache, he opens eyes. The ground was moving beneath him. What the...? Blinking once, he focuses his mind, trying to get a grasp of the situation. "Inspector...?"
So he had not been imagining it after all - the kobold was carrying him. Slowly but surely, the questions start to float back to him. New ones come to him, some regarding Clousuk's dapper topper. How hasn't it fallen off? More or less confident that his grasp on reality has not been robbed from him, Vorian speaks up again. "Inspector, where are you taking us?"
Clousuk cocks his head and fixes Vorian with a single reptilian eye. His feet's talons making a slight grating sound as he hustles along with his now conscious companion still gripped in his hands tightly overhead. He flicks his tail into an 'S' shape along Vorian's view.
"Away...from...zem!" the kobold huffs between breaths.
The tip of the kobold's tail points back into the shaft. The soft fluorescence of the colorsteam permeating the shaft slightly illuminates two dark clad figures who run soundlessly towards them. The lead figure flings his hand out towards Vorian, and something begins to whistle through the air.
There was not really enough time to tell exactly what had been thrown at them - only that something had been thrown at them. For what it was worth, that was all Vorian needed to know. He could probably guess what it was, anyway. Despite his headache, the noble reacts almost reflexively. "Clousuk, down!" he shouts at the kobold, bearing his weight down on him with a shove. Only meaning to knock the two of them to the ground, Vorian perhaps coincidentally does so just as they are passing over a metal grate. The sudden force with their combined weight causes it to fall out from beneath them. Once again, he finds himself falling onto another individual. But this time it wasn't Clousuk.
Capering down the wide corridors that seem to echo at his step, the crazed clerk giggles and dances. A strange jelly-legged dance, his whole body flops around without rythmn as her progresses.
Cassie turns to Ralph and gives him a little hug at the protective manner of the man. "Interesting, so protective. I can defend my honour, but it's nice to be appreciated." Long elegant legs flare out from beneath the dress, as she turns to follow the clerk.
Upon this upper level the corridor turns, but the man continues on through a heavy door. The ancient lab filled with retorts, glassware, clamps and alchemical instruments is dwarfed by in the centre is a large wooden chair with a helmet atop.
Cassie stops, her blood running cold, knees weak and she leans against the wall.
Ralph nods and gives Cassie a one armed hug back careful not to poke her with his blade. "Yeah I know ya can, but all da same hooped up Joes, if dat's whut happen ta him, dey's unpredic'ble, stron'er den ya'd s'pect, 's be'er if he jus keeps his dis'ance." He smirks towards the French woman "'sides 'till da night's over we's still onna date, an' dat means ain't nobuddy gets ta grab ya but me."
The young man looks to Ysillith she moves around the room stealing anything that isn't nailed down then follows Cassie down the hall, not having an interest in ransacking the room. When she stops and leans against the wall Ralph hurries over to see if he can help "Minx? Ya ok? Whut's wrong?" Spotting the chair he recalls the crazy raving about a chair and a cap, and Cassie sitting in it; maybe it wasn't just crazy raving. "Sumone put ya in dat ting b'fore din't dey?"
After her quick 'perusal' of the room...and not finding anything of note tucked within the closed books adorning the wall (Nor any sekrit doors being opened by manipulating them) Ysillith saunters casually after Cassie and Ralph, though slowly enough for Rashida to still be within eye blink, if not ear-cream range.
Upon looking into the room, Ysillith just sniffs..
"This is pretty plain fer a stich-tech's place..." She opines.
Softly she shivers as forgotten memories slowly return. "I don't know... I've seen this thing before." there's a mixture of revulsion and fear in her voice.
Throat dry, she swallows - acerbic razor-blades cause her voice to go gravelly; "Cold rough hands grasped me, dragging me to the chair." she pauses hugging her arms; "It might not have been here, I don't remember... my memory is hazy." Her eyes are slick with water.
She carries on whispering to herself; "It was if I was outside my own body watching in. However the physical sensations.... the cold heavy wood against my skin...."
"Then... then... the pain, memories flowing through me... I ... then darkness." she stops biting her finger, nearly drawing blood.
The clerk cavorts around the chair, stroking the helmet and sitting upon the arms, laying across it. A rictus grin upon his face, "Bluey put me here, so many whizz-bangs. Then he's gone off to the reactor with the pretty colours for more whizz-bangs!" The man rushes over to a lever pulling it. Sparks fly from the steel helmet; "Come sit down." he asks the trio whilst patting the seat.
The Duchess climbs up onto Drake's shoulders and uses her helmet to project her thoughts into his head. "I can be quite silent. I can manipulate the electrical currents in your head to simulate language in my voice... Only you can hear me now."
Ysillith just arches an eyebrow at the Lady Cassie's quiet discourse...
The crazy man's actions, Ysillith seems to discount completely.
"So, Smiley? Which way teh this 'Reactor' then?" She asks, seemingly absently of the unhinged fellow...
Drake looks shocked then grins in the dim light as he moves ahead, "Well, this can be easier than I expected. Let's get going as fast as little bun ... kitties." He goes along the dark passages as quickly as possible in the dark.