Paulus's green eyes shine as he mulls it over. "Wouldn't it make more sense to have the slow ones in the front group, then? Our more fleet-footed folks can respond more quickly to threats, and there is still the initial gap between the groups." The priest shrugs, looking to Elise and Mercy.
"I have no battlefield training...only the wisdom of the Dawnflower and the experience of the last few days. Let us make a decision and carry on." He again looks to the group as a whole.
To Zev's suggestion, "Some distance would be apprieciated for my bowcraft, but," Annabelle puts her hand on her sword belt, "I can handle some swordplay if need be."
She gives a shrug. Like Zevarin pointed out, terrain knowledge could be critical to how they'd approach the situation.
Nodding with Annabelle, Elise looks to Zev and concurs "Yes of course, silly me to overlook that... we play to our strengths." Glancing over at Paulus with a smile, Elise continues that thought "Speaking of strengths, I think Paulus perhaps we cede an advantage if we purposely hold our quickest back; that being said, I agree that we cannot allow our forward moving allies to be cut off again like we did last time," pausing to shudder, Elise adds somewhat embarrassingly "we certainly don't need an encore of our alleyway stratagem."
Zev's train of thought coming back full circle, completes his notions "So, for the sake of our combined martial prowess, we would be best served moving as two columns of four, fairly close. We will have to accept the risk, of the chance, that a single enemy may be able to strike us with a spell as a group before any of us can act. This allows us to reliably, on all other occasions, work as an efficient fighting team in our current environs."
Moving to Elise's drawing, he scribbles, "Say, for example. Me and Red up front. A man's space, then Blondie and Mercy. Another man's gap, Strings and Paul and one more gap before Old Man and Annie bring up the tail."
"This allows the second rank, or more, to talk safely if peaceful resolution can be had. Once that option dissolves, the strike team and hard-shelled are right at the fore."
Paulus absorbs the info from Elise and Zev, trying not to melt in the former's radiant smile. He was going to have to ask Sarenrae for some guidance on his lady situation. That was for later, though. He offers his own input, "How about we tweak that, like so..." He uses the 'scribblin' stick to make a slight alteration.
.
.
.
Z....N
..M....E
P....C
..A....R
Nic looks over the diagram, leaning over Paulus' shoulder close enough for a few loose locks of hair to dangle by his face. "Looks good to me," she shrugs. "Of course, we should be able to spread out if we have more room than we thought."
She straightens, places both hands in the small of her back, and stretches, leather flexing across her frame. "Elise, if you ever want something a bit lighter, have you considered leather? You've got the form for it, and it's damned comfortable if you don't mind it... clinging." She rolls her shoulders, drops a hand back to her rapier, and waits for some more movement.
Zev crosses his arms and his stern demeanor softens at this last suggestion. "You know Paul, that's good thinking. I'm with it. We have room to move, to either grow or shrink with our environment. We could reduce to a two by four man space, or increase to double the formation, all while keeping our ranks and positions. We limit overlap of lines of fire or movement." He claps the one person he calls friend hard on the shoulder in approval, the corners of his mouth showing just a hint of a smile.
Turning to Nic he offers, "Red, if we all agree, let's get back to moving. By this, you and I are on point." He says with excitement, anticipating a fight to come.
"I'm with you, Chuckles. I'll distract them, you start carving them up." A wild excitement starts burning in her eyes as she takes point with Zev, occasionally dropping a short shuffle or spin into her step, testing the uneven cobblestones for balance.
|
Rhasuel waits while the military types hash out the matching order. He was ignorant of such concerns. He just walls where they tell him to walk and contemplates the deck of cards in his pocket. He runs his thumb off them while he thinks. It's crazy. The cards can't be calling me. Shake it off, old man. You're going to sound delusional if you admit that you may have finally found your purpose after decades of being what you are supposed to be...
Placing a hand on his Paulus' shoulder, Elise smiles "Zev's right, that's good thinking Paulus," with a wink, she laughs softly and adds "we'll make a military tactician of you yet."
Inspecting herself and her armor, Elise adds humorously "What, this isn't form fitting enough?" Shaking her head, she contemplates "I might look good in leather, but I'm not sure it provides quite as much protection as I'm used to; I was actually thinking a chain shirt, something more flexible than this old thing."
He smells her, the scent of leather mixing with her barely perceptible musk, just a second before those few telltale red strands creep into his field of vision. He turns his head to regard her reflexively as she speaks, eyes widening as he finds his face mere inches from her own. She then mercifully straightens as he quickly turns back to his drawing, making a show of fixing the letters scrawled on the ground.
He smiles at his friend's praise, though the clap on the shoulder nearly knocks him off balance. Zev was a man of few words, and for him to spend some on such a thing meant a lot. Paulus gets to his feet, wincing as he works out a kink in his back. Then the blond praises him as well, a hand on his shoulder. It was going to be one of those days.
As Nic and Elise start to discuss the properties of leather, Paulus shakes his head, wordlessly falling back to his position in the formation. Seeing Cal beside him, he gives the man a helpless look before he settles his eyes firmly on his holy symbol, getting ready to move out.
Calcedon shrugs back at Paulus. First of all, he's not really a battlefield strategist. He understands inspiration and emotion during war and uses his skills to encourage whatever group he is with, but as far as splitting up or not, he feels it is a bit of a waste of time without any layout concerning into what they're getting themselves.
Secondly, he understands the allure of young women all too well. There's a few things that no one quite knows about the young nobleman yet. Some things he'd like to keep secret, but it wasn't a terrible idea to have a confidant. Paulus and he had gotten along fairly well, and he seemed enough like a trustworthy fellow. Perhaps it was time to let a bit out of the bag.
He made a gesture to the priest that they would talk later. It also was a good idea when going into a rough spot that one would have an appointment, especially if they had a habit of keeping their word. It made for just that much more of a reason to win.
The priest nods minutely to Cal, understanding the gesture. He then continues to hold his holy symbol, saying a silent prayer to Sarenrae to clear his mind. He could indulge his new-found romantic urgings another time...this was no time to be distracted. He nods to himself, keeping hold of it as they start to walk towards...well, they weren't quite sure yet. But they'd figure it out.
:
:
You spot bloodstains on the cobbles that pave the street.
The wind whistles as it blows through the empty streets. There is no sign that this was once part of a bustling city.
Mercy's eyes narrow as she continues to scour the group's locale. She stops, then stoops, afore tapping the cobbles with her scimitar;
"Bloodstains on the street. A sign of this place's violent fall at the very least... at best perhaps a trail we can follow?"
The priest nods, grimacing at the sight. "Dark times, sister. Let us hurry forth to shed light on this mystery."
Stooping down a bit, Annabelle peers at the blood splatters closely, checking the viscosity.
"The blood is rather fresh - not less than two hours old, I'd wager. I'll see what else I can gather as we go along."
The sight of the blood brings back an all too recent memory for Nic - her own blood, her boots fighting to grip the stone beneath, slipping as the knife plunges between her ribs. A visible shudder runs through her, her confident stride wavering slightly at the memory. "Well, let us know, Bright Eyes," she mutters, rubbing the scar in her side absently.
Once spotted, the blood trail was easy enough to track. Five minutes later, you hear angry shouts and the crashing of wood on wood.
Drawing her bow and notching an arrow, Annabelle mutters "Seems like they'll let us know instead!"
Paulus fights the desire to charge ahead to see what is happening, knowing that discipline will win battles for this group. He exchanges a glance with Annabelle before they continue onward towards the sound of the commotion.
Zev draws his greataxe, holding the handle with his right as he rests the haft near the head of it over his shoulder. He moves forward toward the sound, which sounds more like wooden sword against wooden training dummy, but it pays to be prepared.
Drawing her blade, Elise nods at Annabelle with a light grin "Indeed, they've done that." Moving forward, Elise scowls as she tries to hear more clearly what might be going on "Sounds like a battering ram maybe?"
The priest nods to Elise. That had been his suspicion, as well. Someone was in trouble. He hurries forward, trying to prod along those in front of him as he draws his scimitar.
"Alright, Chuckles. Let's go." Drawing her rapier and strapping on her buckler, Nic begins to quicken her pace, hurrying towards the sound.
Mercy shares a grim look with Paulus and also draws her scimitar and readies her shield;
"Time is of the essence... Onward my friends!"
Calcedon couldn't help but think positively. Perhaps another group was attacking the kidnappers, looking for their lost loved ones or something like that. He jogged along behind his friends, waiting for an opportunity to act.
As you round the corner, you see six men using a log as a battering ram against the door of a ramshackle barn thirty feet away. Another man stands behind them and to the side about 10 feet away. They spot you right as they begin to back away from the door once more.
"In the name of the Korvosan Crusaders, lay down your arms and surrender!" the man not manning the battering ram calls out in a loud, bombastic voice.
Annabelle blinks twice. "Aye? Crusading for what, I wonder?"
Zev pauses, just a bit, uncertain whether this a charge or chat situation.
Somewhat surprised to see yet another militia of sorts, Elise is slow to respond.
Korvosan Crusaders? Not quite what he was expecting, Paulus is slow to respond to the group of men.
Cal was on edge already today and he didn't have the strength to suffer the foolishness of needlessly arrogant men. "Surrender to what, your self-righteous tyrrany? Release your prisoners and disperse and it will not have to end in violence." He knew his words wouldn't reach them here, but perhaps after a show of force they would help smooth the transition back to normal city life.
The priest holds his holy symbol aloft, the silver rendition of the sun glinting in the morning light. "Goddess, please grant us your blessing for the possible battle ahead. Show your humble servant your favor and tilt the odds as only the divine can, I beg you."
Feeling the holy might and hope of Paulus' goddess, Annabelle takes her position with bow raised and drawn back.
Calcedon begins weaving his words in a rhythmic pattern as he continues to berate the crusaders.
"Thou ominous and fearful owl of death,
Our nation's terror and their bloody scourge!"
"Crusaders? You're merely petty thugs!" Shaking her head, Nic gestures once to Zev. "We're up, Chuckles!" Then she's off in a flash of red hair and leather, rapier aimed at the man not manning the ram, who she assumes to be the leader. At the last moment, she adjusts her strike, attempting to cuff him on the side of the head rather than skewer him.