"Now now, Constable Summers," says Captain Smith in a diplomatic fashion, stepping forward slightly to break up the exchange between Fethryth and Anneca before it gets out of hand. "I agree that this is highly irregular for even the R.H.C. - and I've seen some strange events indeed as captain of the Impossible on detachment to the Constabulary for several years now - but the written orders to Allister of the Gryphon concerning their arrival are indeed authentic. Also, I witnessed it personally in my own ship's infirmary that Senior Constable Glix recognized at least Constables Teldanona and Utegg here from Slate Branch...though he is now unconscious and being transferred to the Crane as we speak." Captain Smith tries his best to mollify the sentiments, though he is looking more around at the many hardened marines who have taken an interest in the conversation.
The Risuri marines of the Black Needle all know who Ifris Lanvaldan is from the war and her actions on the Argentum, and consider her one of their own. They now start whispering and murmuring to themselves in a wide band around the constables just outside the lighthouse, forming the beginnings of an uncomfortable audience of onlookers.
Suddenly there is laughter which jars the tension of the unfolding argument further. Standing next to the wall of the blockhouse is Johnathan Jackson, laughing with mirth as if just getting the gist of some joke. He laughs mostly to himself, and shrugs his shoulders as if giving in to the utter ridiculousness of the situation. Either that or he's cracked completely. His hand, however, comes to rest on the haft of his infamous polehammer.
Ifris Lanvaldan says nothing, her eyes dull and black but somehow with a dangerous, almost feral edge to them. She seems to crouch down slightly, her hands at her sides.
Willem steps in, "At ease ladies and gentlemen, we are starting to act like the enemy getting ready to fight a civil war on the quarter deck. My fellow Constables, Marines, and Officers, the replacement constables have orders from high command and no matter how much we dislike them, which I do, we can not go against these orders or we are in fact committin' a felonious act against our King which will definitely include our arrest and perhaps our haningin' at the Royal Gallows. If there is injustice, a set up for a secret operation, or true justice is indeed in the process, it is better for us to fight it legally and not obstruct apparent justice. Let actions and true evidence speak the truth!"
Willem looks at Constable Summers, "I agree with Constable Summers. Since we are at war and the enemy is known for trickery, all seven of us should escort Constables Lanvaldan and Jackson back to RHC HQ or where ever we are supposed to take them to make sure this is not a trick by the enemy."
Jesselle looks to Anneca with a bemused look, "By the same logic, how do we know that you are not an agent, who has done all this to infiltrate the RHC and aid whatever the Duchess has planned."
She looks the four outspoken constables and with hands spread wide, "I jest of course, but it is a circle that we could go around and around with. Perhaps you should ask Constables Jackson and Lanvaldan if they truly disbelieve the letters each has received."
She looks to Constable Munhee, "If our," and she does stress the word our, "Mission here was complete I might consider your terms, but there is still much to accomplish before sunset this coming day."
She takes in a deep breath and lets it out, "It has already been a long day and we have another to go before this will hopefully be over. Trust me, or don't. We have a mission to complete. Keep your suspicions if you like, but I would hope that I could be treated like the fellow Royal Homeland Constable I am, in the same way that you would want me to treat you, a fellow Royal Homeland Constable."
Gemma hears the exchanges between everyone but the reactions of Ifris and Johnathan and the marines make the hairs start to go up on the back of her neck. Instinctively she rests her hand on her sabre and starts to count out everyone and where they are in position and relation to each other. She briefly looks to Jesselle and the other constables but then back to to Ifris and Johnathan. "Look...we've all had a tough day apparently and clearly we don't have a lot of time to get this all sorted out. If I could remind my own group of constables that there is a second part to our mission that still needs to be taken care of, in case anyone's forgotten. However, in the meantime...Constables Jackson and Lanvaldan...if I could repeat my earlier question. What the hell is going on? I think we'd all like to avoid a problem here, right?"
After a moment of Ifris’ silent smoldering accompanied by Johnathan’s laughter Emerson chimes in. ”Well? We’re waiting….”
Tobias nods as Willem provides some sense from the other group of constables.
Of course they're reacting in a completely reasonable manor, especially given the ordeal they've just been through.
"Thank you Muhnee, I knew you'd be able to see reason and regulation in all this." He looks to the rest of the constables, and steady his arms wide. "As constable Wesmere said we're here to help you accomplish the rest of the mission. While I can not presume to be as accomplished as the Jackson and Lanvaldan, we are more than capable. As far as current events, well regardless of how they respond, these two constables are under arrest, and they may choose to defend themselves in accordance with the law, but I don't see what they have to say has anything to do with your compliance. We are all constables of the R.H.C., if you truly distrust us, well my mentor and friend Constable Letmas is no longer with us to vouch for me, but we fought a ship full of rebel soldiers just to get here and I won't have that discredited just because you can't see through your bias. We've all been trained better than that."
Johnathan Jackson continues to chuckle audibly with some twisted notion of what is amusing to him, only saying, "So they nabbed up ol' Hopkins did they? Famed war hero, founder of R.H.C.'s foreign missions after the R.S.S. went down in disgrace, and by reputation the finest swordsman in the Constabulary. Led away in chains eh? Ahh...that's rich that is!" He continues to laugh disturbingly.
"NO one is taking me away in chains," says Ifris menacingly, her voice a low growl now. She takes a slight pivoting step backwards towards the circle of marines nearer to the railing by the sea gate. Marines glower and murmur to themselves still, though some raise their eyes and point to her as a few amber motes of light seem to wink in and out slowly around the sheen sleeves of her arms.
Willem nods, "Thank you Constable Utegg, your response is definitely more welcomed." He looks at Constable Hill then back to Constable Lanvaldan in shock, "Constable Lanvaldan, are you and Constable Jackson double agents because some mission went wrong during the war?"
Jesselle sighs as, to her mind, wrong conclusions seemed to be have drawn. She looks to Infris first before her gaze turns to Jackson as she speaks, "No one has said anyone has to be led away in chains. You have been relived of your duties and will be put in the custody of these fine marines. I am sure if you make trouble than perhaps you might be, but I do not suspect either of you to do so, yes?"
She takes a breath before she continues, "There is ample proof that Hopkins is guiltiy of many of the charges, but he too went willingly to face those charges. If he disputes them, and comes out exonerated, than great. But there is a process we all agreed to follow when we to joined the RHC."
"I know it is hard to take in what we are saying... " she pauses a moment, "Heck with it... I will take whatever comes of this..." She looks to the Infris and Jackson, "What are your orders should the Duchess be captured and taken into custody?
She watches both very carefully...
"She's right. Cooperate and I'm sure you'll be afforded as much respect as you can be, given the current situation." Tobias smiles at Jesselle as she brings up the real issue with the orders to kill or capture the duchess, having considered doing it himself.
"Laugh all you want Jackson but the fact is, war hero or not Hopkins subverted his direct superiors. We can't just let individuals off the hook for their previous service, that would be ridiculous. You can save your selves a lot of trouble, and maybe even save your careers if you go willingly right now. It's all we ask. There's enough evidence against you to pull you from the mission but you've yet to actually act against the R.H.C. or Risur, do you really want to change that now?"
He directs his last question directly to Lanvaldan, noting the amber motes forming around her and recognizing them as manifestations of psychic energy.
The constable eyes Jackson and Lanvaldan closely. Maybe they’ll go for a hidden weapon. Maybe they’re eyeing an escape route. Prehaps they’re just doing something suspicious?
Fethryth knows that diplomacy is not her forte, so she goes with a bland statement of facts. ”Yes, you are being relieved of your duties. That means going with the marines to the ship and staying in their custody. We all go back to Risur, and you will have a chance to defend yourself and be exonerated if you are not guilty. I know the charges against you, so I also know that you haven’t done the worst thing you’re being accused of.”
”Furthermore, in your worst case scenario where you are found guilty, it’s not going to be the end of your life; it might not be the end of your career either. But if you resist a lawful, sanctioned arrest, it will not only confirm your guilt in the eyes of the R.H.C but it will be a black mark that follows you all your life.”
Ifris is by far the greater threat – she doesn’t hide any weapons as she is a living weapon. You’ve heard the stories before about her and though you’ve never seen it, she apparently can encase herself in amber armor and shield as fast as you could draw a potion from your belt. Her blade, too, would be manifested as quickly from pure psychic energy. She seems right on the verge of doing something but you cannot discern if she’s doing it willingly or if it’s just a by-product of her extreme emotional state right now.
Over away from the rest of you by the wall of the tower, you notice something else quite shocking to you. There the marines have laid out the bodies of the dead beyond chance of healing or saving. Amongst the dead rebel army soldiers lies a small scarlet pseudodragon that has been shot to death. While that is curious, what is shocking is the dead woman that lies next to the cat-sized beast – a dead woman that most would mistake for a common Risuri elf like yourself, but which you know is…was…an eladrin female. She has been shot in the shoulder, but it appears her mortal wound was being slashed across the throat execution-style by a sword or other edged weapon. From your time in the enclave you know that less than a hundred truly eladrin females exist in all of Lanjyr…and here is one that has been slain in the action to either take or hold the sea gate.
Ifris reminds you of a trapped creature – cornered and lethal – who seems to have been pressed beyond all reason and the trappings of honor and duty she clings to deeply violated. Both constables are dangerous…but by far Ifris may be the one to snap here to mindless, enraged violence, with no logical purpose to it.
Johnathan laughs even louder then, seemingly unconcerned about the charges levied against him or the seriousness of them. ”Ahh…that’s rich that is! We’re here to take this island back for our Danoran “friends” and kill the rebels in the process. Right? I mean that’s what they did to us after all. That’s what happened in Shale. That’s what they did to us, to Inspectors Lawrence and Grady, to Corbin Spears and Winston Watkins, to Cooke and Crawley and Stafford and the brave bastards Cosgrove and Platts that at least had a choice to stand and die for their fellows so that Dawson and the rest of Unremitting might live. Oh, Miranda’s still alive alright - she just is cracked and can’t speak anymore after what they did to her, locked in a padded room for her own good.” Johnathan Jackson continues to smile as he speaks but his eyes are now cold and glitter dangerously, recalling the fall of Shale Branch in his mind that they cannot even begin to imagine.
Johnathan Jackson spreads his arms wide. ”So what if C.I. Hopkins told us to make sure that traitor Ethelyn is dead? Isn’t that why we’re here, to end this rebellion? Kill her off, and the head is cut off the serpent. It’s war, constables, so take a side! Hey I got an idea…” Johnathan turns to regard all the marines that stand around them in the area outside the lighthouse, addressing them directly as if rousing them to a speech. ”HEY NOW MARINES, WHO HERE WANTS TO SEE THE B#%$& DUCHESS DEAD TODAY?”
A rousing chorus of cheers and shouting echoes from the marines all around them, affirming Johnathan’s question with a clear answer. Grinning from ear-to-ear he turns back to Jesselle and says mockingly, ”Guess you’re outvoted now, aren’t ya Slate Branch?”
Focusing solely on Tobias Utegg now to the point of ignoring all the others, Ifris Lanvaldan hisses at him in direct reply, ”You don’t understand, Utegg. Hopkins was going to take…everything from me! He…he was going to make sure my family had their way and that they’d put me back in that damnable cage for my own “protection”…and worse! Put me behind a desk in R&D to be studied like some freak or alchemy experiment, or put on a shelf to be discarded and forgotten! Me! I have only longed to serve and do my duty to my king and my people! I…I cannot change what I can do, but it’s not who I am that they care about!”
Ifris taps her chest hard with her fingers, her eyes filled with pain and righteous anger and hate. ”I saved my own life on the Argentum, saved others from the Danorans who offered no quarter! I did my best to serve out my tenure in the marines and the Battalion Academy, giving them all I could in my treatise for others to understand how I do what I do! I earned my place in the constabulary, and they put me on glorified guard duty for the scribes and the dailies! But I served Utegg…oh yes I did my duty regardless…and then I had my chance to prove my worth on the Coaltongue, to save my King and all those onboard from that b$%^# and her minions! It was my time at last! And I was there at Shale when we rescued Jackson and Lenshire and all the Slate personnel imprisoned there, and did my duty and proved my worth! And what did I get for all of that, huh? That Price-Hill would entertain removing me from active duty because my so-called family wants me put back into a birdcage…and P.M. Lee and King Aodhan would let them all do it to me! Again! Hopkins told me if I didn’t kill the Duchess on Axis that he’d make certain I would never see another mission briefing again. And so I believed him! Wouldn’t you, Utegg? What would you have done in my place?”
Emerson takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. He surely doesn’t want to see this devolve into bloodshed as his initial outrage at the new orders passes and his cooler wit prevails.
He first turns to Jackson and says ”It doesn’t matter if everyone here wants to kill the duchess. Part of me does, that’s for sure. The night is young and we may not have a choice but to do just that. Our orders are to capture her, kill her as a last resort.”
Next he turns his eyes on his long-time friend and steps between her and Utegg. ”Ifris! Look at me! Your parents don’t own you! Neither do Lee nor the King. You haven’t done anything except get an illegal order from Hopkins. You can walk away from the RHC and do anything you want.”
He pauses for a moment to let what he said sink in, then continues ”Since neither of you have violated our initial orders I’m sure you will be in the clear. What’s more, if you lift a weapon against our comrades here I will be forced to stop you. So let’s be good little marines and follow orders. Okay?”
Tobias opens his mouth to counter Jackson but he quickly snaps it shut as Ifris speaks. It's more than he's ever heard from her in his entire time with the R.H.C. and it's far more personal than he expected.
"No, I would have done exactly the same, and if I had it might be you they sent after me instead, but don't you see? Everything you just told me could get you out of this mess. They already have evidence of Hopkins using his position to influence the careers of the constables beneath him, you can ask Feth all about that. This could easily exonerate you but not if you turn this into a fight!"
He approaches the angry psychic carefully, taking up a spot next to Emerson in a show of solidarity.
"No one knows what you've been through Ifris, but if anyone can begin to understand it's me. Our abilities are different but they're rooted in the same place, please, trust me when I say I don't intend you any harm and I can and will do everything I can to keep you from losing your position with the R.H.C., that's why I'm here. That's why we're all here, to keep you and Jackson from making a mistake. So you don't martyr the duchess and renew the rebel's vigor. Please, don't make this a fight."
Gemma, for once, isn't entirely sure what to do. She doesn't feel particularly close to any of the people she just fought side by side with, but they did have each other's backs and shed blood together...and that has to count for something. All she's knows is that she doesn't want this to go badly for anyone.
While Ifris is clearly angry, she has friends in this group that could possibly calm her down. Johnathan, on the other hand, is a bit of a loose cog. Inciting the marines certainly isn't helping, so she makes the decision to focus her attention on him.
Keeping her hand on her sabre and her eyes on Johnathan and the marines, she addresses them all harshly. "Dammit you all! Marines...you are here to carry out the orders of our KING! Those orders DO NOT include killing the Duchess! Killing her will not make the rebellion go away. It will only serve to make her a martyr and that CANNOT happen! Revenge for blood spilled is not our duty. Keeping order is our duty. If she falls in combat, then so be it, but that is not what our KING wants! It is up to him and him alone to decide her fate if she lives through the night."
She then looks specifically to Johnathan and shows an uncharacteristic side of compassion. "Constable Jackson...I cannot pretend to know what you suffered in Shale. None of us knew and I am truly sorry for your losses. I know there is no amount of justice to bring them back or completely heal those still alive...including yourself. But for now...just for now...you must know that we," Gemma motions to the rest of their fellow constables, "we must continue this one mission if there is to be any sense to this. I understand now why you would want Ethelyn dead more than most, which is why you must remand yourself to temporary custody. You have no way to go into that fight with a level head despite all the training you've had. You will not be able to fulfill your king's orders and that, ultimately, is what we're here for. Please."
Gemma hopes that her words don't fall on deaf ears. She's generally no good at all at diplomacy, or really even talking to people, but she does truly feel for both Johnathan and Ifris now, given their circumstances.
Though Jackson shrugs and seems unmoved by Gemma's words to him, the rest of the marines do seem to be affected by her address to them. Captain Smith is the next one to speak, addressing the marines directly around the loose circle outside the lighthouse area.
"MARINES! AT ATTENTION!"
The naval soldiers of the Black Needle all snap to attention where they stand, their training coming to bear instantaneously. Captain Smith still has a cigar in his hand, but walks in a slow circle to look at the men under military jurisdiction.
"As Captain Pembroke from the Needle is undoubtedly off to coordinate with Admiral Jellicoe, I am the ranking military officer here. As such, I will remind each of you that the affairs of these constables of the Royal Homeland Constabulary take primacy over military affairs, where it concerns the former Duchess Ethelyn Lesterman...and certainly in the affairs of their own constabulary core. Whatever they rule within their own ranks, we shall uphold and strive to make happen, and not interfere otherwise. Furthermore, if the former Duchess is apprehended or captured, she is subject to civilian authority of the R.H.C. and not the military for judgment, per our King's own express orders. Do I make myself clear?"
"SIR YESSIR!"
"Very well."
Captain Smith turns back to the constables to wait patiently on the outcome.
Jesselle turns to Ifris, "We trained together a few years back, sure it does not mean I do not understand all about you, but this is not the end for you. See it as the opportunity it is. You get out from under the boot of someone who was trying to use you for his own ends. You have done nothing wrong. Go with the marines, return to Slate, and tell what happened. Sure there may be a few bumps in the road look at the three of us," she motions to Fethryth, Tobias and herself, "Twenty-four hours ago we all stood before the Noses," she lets that fact sink into all present several moments.
"Ifris, this is your opportunity to show everyone not only the great Royal Homeland Constable that all of us here know you are, but the one that you can be." Jesslle pleads with her former classmate.
Turning to Jackson Jesselle finds it hard to find the same connection that she hopes she had with Ifris, but she tries any ways. "Jackson," she starts and just does not know where to start, "Do not worry, no pleading for you to save yourself. I cannot even begin to understand what you have been through, but here we are. Right now, like Infris you have done nothing wrong. If it is revenge you are seeking perhaps the RHC is not the place for you. Return to Risur, resign, and peruse those ends if that is what you want. Or if you really want to make those lost to you mean something, stay, be the better person. Show this so called queen and whoever else threatens Risur not only has you to deal with, but those of the Royal Homeland Constabulary." She throws her hands out wide, "Up to as it always has been."
”Ifris Lanvaldan!” Fethryth raises her voice ”Don’t you believe that sack of shit Hopkins for one minute! The idea that, during one of the worst crises in the history of our nation, Director Price-Hill is going to pull one of the R.H.C’s best and put her in a cage away from active duty is one of the dumbest *#&%“$@ things I’ve ever heard in my life. Utegg, Wesmere, no offense meant, I’m including myself in this; part of the reason we got chosen for this mission is that everyone else has assignments. We’re scrambling for manpower, we’re not going to shelve a good constable because that’s what their family wants.”
The elf’s face softens into a look of compassion. ”I understand your fears. Believe me, there are those among my original….trainers...that would love having me back under their thumb so I could be their dancing monkey, and I’d rather cut my own tongue out than be forced into that cage. But you can’t let the fear rule you. Don’t let it twist you into someone you’re not.”
”Jackson, as for you. Please don’t turn this into a fight. You’ve gone through something horrifying and it’s consuming you. You need time to grieve.”
”Besides” It takes a split second for Fethryth’s demeanor to shift from compassion to something vengeful, almost predatory. ”If you really want to make Ethelyn suffer, haul her to the capital in chains, force information out of her and then use that to tear down her rebellion while she watches. There are some things worst than death.”
Anneca remains uncharacteristically quiet, watching the situation unfold while chomping on the end of her cigar. She remains torn between her duty to carry out her services and the combined power of her loyalty to her comrades and her burning desire for vengeance against the Duchess. Her eyes glance from one side to another, holding the interloping constables in some degree of contempt. She pushes her feelings aside, though, to think of her duty to the Constabulary - the only place where she had been truly accepted and encouraged. "We have to follow our orders," she says quietly. "Whether we like them or not. We did well tonight, did the job. Let's leave it at that, while we're ahead."
And with that, the fight finally seems to subside out of Ifris Lanvaldan and Johnathan Jackson.
"Ah well it would've been fun to..." Johnathan merely shrugs and doesn't complete his thought spoken aloud, but relinquishes his weapons to the marines nearest to him.
Ifris turns over one of her remaining grenades over to the marines without word. Then she removes her R.H.C. badge and looks at it. For a moment it seems Ifris might do something rash and hurl it over the sea wall, but perhaps some of the words of the other constables assembled here stay her hand. "We'll see if the the R.H.C. is still worth serving, but for now I'll see my duty through this injustice." With that, she holds out her hands to be manacled.
"I don't think that's all necessary if you don't, constables," says Captain Rutger Smith, clearly relieved at the outcome as opposed to how it could have gone. He waves his sailors to ready the whaleboat down at the small docks and says, "I'll escort you back to the Impossible myself, and you shall have the comfort of my own quarters for the duration. Come, let's go see to it." To the rest of the constables that stormed the lighthouse he says, "I suppose I'll have to forego the pleasantries, constables, but I'll return in a few hours once we get the light of dawn, or when the Admiral needs me. Until then, farewell."
***************************
When the whaleboat holding Lanvaldan, Jackson and Smith has departed through the sea gate in its trek back out to the Impossible, the group of seven constables now looks at each other with a fair bit of awkwardness. The unpleasantness that put them into early conflict is now done, but there is still a mission to perform. The sounds of battle at the far end of the harbor and just beyond the outer walls indicates the assault to take Axis town is fully underway, the twin alternating booming sounds of heavy bombard cannons striking in and around the inner keep a steady reminder of the Duchess somewhere inside. Her trusted handmaiden and assassin are now both dead, but she herself is a formidable sorceress in her own right. For now though, there is not much that can be done.
As if to lead them to that conclusion, a young sailor runner comes up to them from across the sea wall, bringing them news from Admiral Jellicoe's command post. No sightings of the Duchess have been made yet, and for now the Admiral recommends they get what rest they can in the lighthouse tower, which will be well-guarded by the marines there. They will be called upon if and when contact with the Duchess has been made, or if she is somehow captured by the soldiers. In the meantime, they are left to their own devices after a long, long day...
When Captain Smith asks if manacles are necessary, Willem responds, "Personally I believe manacles are not necessary for they have served the King beyond just the call of the duty and have not displayed criminal behavior." Willem looks at both of them, "I hope it will remain that way. I do not want to see their reputation tarnished from being manacled just for a validation of justice."
Before Ifris and Jackson leave, "When we are finished here, we will look in on you two to make sure the best interest of justice is bein' served. Ifris, if they turn you into some sort of spectacle because of your gift, we will get you out."
With a disappointed face, Willem sits in the corner cleaning his weapons to make sure they will not rust in this weather and nothing is fouling the operation of the weapons. He cleans his gear and makes sure everything is in order including where he will sleep tonight.
Regardless of further discussion or not, later in the evening, Willem states, "If we are doing any watches, I will do last watch. Although we have taken over the port, we are a target here on the wall and we slept under the enemy's nose to get here so they can do the same to us. And even if we are not, I will be up early. Also before we head out, we may want to see what gear we can replenished form the Navy and/or Marines."
”Gear? Hmm. Did anyone check our late agents of the Duchess for gear, orders, or perhaps keys and the like?” Emerson starts to check both Ilton and Sorkana for anything that might be useful to further their mission. ”As for a watch, let the Marines do their job. We deserve a few hours sleep.”
Before the marines lead Ifris and Jonathan away, Anneca reaches out and grabs her lightly by the shoulder. She hesitates for a moment, then pulls her in for an awkward hug. "You'll be all right. We'll see you after the mission." She releases the warrior and takes a few steps back, going back to puff on her cigar and stare out into the bay. For the rest of the night, she doesn't say another word to anyone, brooding in the darkness and fiddling with her scrolls and weapons.
Gemma doesn’t quite know what to do with herself after everything that’s happened. She said a brief farewell and gave some words of encouragement to Johnathan and Ifris as they were escorted away, hoping that all would turn out well, but didn’t really know what else to do.
As she walks past the rebel bodies, she reminds herself that she well understood that this is what she signed up for, but can’t help but replay the events of the day over and over in her head; the slick blood, the agonizing screams, the horrible smells, how it all mingles with the ever-present salty sea air. The thing that sticks with her most though is one particular kill. She coldly and brutally took the life of an Eladrin female and she can’t help but feel that will come back on her somehow. It was Emerson who felled her in order to defend his own life, but it was Gemma herself that made sure she was dead. Maybe she didn't have to. There may be no right answer, but the worst part was that she felt no remorse for it…didn’t then, doesn’t now. She suddenly notices that she doesn't really feel much at all and doesn’t know enough yet to understand if that’s good or bad. Her mind just keeps bringing up the final cut.
She finds a quiet place along the inside wall of the lighthouse, closest to Willem but still apart from the others. She methodically starts cleaning and clearing her weapons, getting everything prepared for the next push before she tries to settle in to get some sleep. She makes a note of where everyone is, including the new constables. Wish that first impression could have gone better. Shame. My bet’s on Emerson or Willem to chat it up first. Looks like Anneca and I may be on our own for a bit. Gemma’s never been one to be social and she certainly isn’t any good at repairing damage, so she tries to get comfortable and closes her eyes on the thought.
She has no idea of how little or long she’s been asleep, but knows it probably hasn’t been as long as it should; something about the burning on her ankle, the booming of the cannons and the cold stone floor makes a full night’s sleep impossible. She has the thought to get up and walk outside, just to see what’s going on, but decides against it. No need to give anyone an open target. Instead, she rummages around in her pack and finds a piece of chalk, wrapped tight in waxed paper to keep the salt water from destroying it. Closing her eyes to help her memory, Gemma starts drawing the layout of the town of Axis…or at least the parts she can remember, paying particular attention to the area around the jail and the main keep. We can’t forget Nathan Jierre. He better still be alive.
* A very fine quality sheensteel curved warblade from the exotic slavelands beyond Elfaivar, darkened to hide its sheen
* A very fine quality set of lamellar armor made out of bands of treated darkwood leaves, highly tooled and engraved
* 2 potions of Risuri healing tonic
* 2 small daggers in sheaths stained with greenblood oil
* 2 bags marbles, 1 pouch sneezing powder, 1 vial antitoxin, 1 set of normal thieves’ tools
* An elaborately engraved dagger with a silver wire hilt and sylvan engravings
* An elegant silver ring in the style of a lover’s knot, engraved with skyseer runes of Avilona and marked with elvish script denoting the name of ‘Sorkana Dell’ and ‘freedom’
* Scroll of arcane magic: fog cloud
* Scroll of arcane magic: 2x resist energy
* 2 potions of Risuri healing tonic
* 1 potion of a misty vapor
* A leather-bound small book of elvish poetry from the time before the fall of Elfaivar, inscribed affectionately with Sorkana’s name by Garrys.
The next several hours are a time of unsettled rest for the newly cobbled-together group of seven constables, though it does give them the much-needed opportunity to rest in relative peace and safety. The reinforced windows are still broken on one side of the second story facing the harbor, but they find the benches, tables and chairs can be made into decent enough accommodations for each of them. Outside, the constant thudding sound of the heavy bombard cannons upon the Heron and the Wolf creates almost a steady rhythm as the inner keep of Axis is shelled in the distance; musket fire and the shouting sounds of battle can still occasionally be heard, though it’s fainter now as the action has pushed into the town itself. Occasional flaring lights from magical and mundane illumination fill the normally darkened skies of the pre-dawn morning, the swirling fog creating odd shadows and misty currents in the air. Marines guard the downstairs as well as scouting from the top story of the lighthouse, giving the constables some measure of security.
For all seven of them, the chance to rest after what has been a monumental day for each is essential, the physical and mental toll on what they have respectively been through more extreme than anything they were trained on to-date. For four of them, the “saviors” of King Aodhan on 1 Spring – twice – and noted foils of Ethelyn’s plot to sabotage the Coaltongue, they can scarcely believe what they have accomplished this past night in the aftermath of the devastating loss of Resilience. For the other three of them, the passing of the test of the Special Inspectorate and the successful apprehension of Spencer Hopkins would have made for an unparalleled day in the Constabulary…yet that pales in comparison to their brief but bloody action upon the Gryphon just mere hours before. Collectively the seven constables have done their duty beyond normal expectations, and achieved their missions despite great adversity. Yet there is still more to do, and more dangers to face. That they might have to face down the former Duchess in combat is chilling, despite the presence of a full regiment of marines to take Axis Island. That they have to hand the island over to the Danorans at sunset of this Thirteenth Day of Spring seems unfathomable, but there is no one left to do the job but them. Somewhere on the Crane lies Burton Glix, the only constable that could conceivably command them, completely out of commission.
They rest as best as they can despite the shelling and the sights and sounds of combat in the distance. A plethora of items recovered from the treacherous lieutenants of Duchess Ethelyn are theirs for inspection and use – though they know that upon return to Risur they must report and submit all of their findings to the quartermasters’ offices, as well as any unused gear given to them for the field. For now though, there may be something that could help them complete the final phase of their mission. Their finery suggests that Ethelyn truly doted on her lieutenants and trusted them implicitly. Complicit in Constable Fileccia’s murder and clearly implicated in the assassination attempts upon King Aodhan himself, the constables know there will be no formal repercussions as to the deaths of Ilton and Sorkana. It is not lost upon some of them, however, that the deep anger they feel against the pair cannot be so far apart from what Spencer Hopkins felt against Ethelyn after Makala’s murder…or Johnathan Jackson’s state of mind after the violent fall of Shale Branch.
Dawn of the Thirteenth Day of Spring comes to Axis Island, and the bloody assault continues to wrest Axis from the rebel Duchess and her followers. Sometime a couple hours after sunrise there is a huge crashing sound and a rousing cheer from the marines, as the bombard cannons shear off the top section of the spire tower that overlooks the central harbor wall, the last defensive post of the rebels outside of the inner walls. With the lone tower’s fall the town of Axis and its outer walls are all but assured to be in loyalist hands within hours, the assault for the inner walls and its central keep to begin in earnest.
”Constables, Captain Smith has asked me to inform you that breakfast is available downstairs when you are ready, courtesy of the Risuri Navy.” A yeoman sailor nods deferentially to each of them as they start to gather up their gear upon the second story of the lighthouse tower. ”He says Admiral Jellicoe will receive you at his forward command post after you have had something to eat, but that there are still no sightings of the Duchess at this time. Marine companies have taken most of the eastern side of the town and are pushing in a wide arc along the western side, though there is more resis…”
The yeoman is interrupted by a terrible thudding BOOM sound that occurs much closer to the constables than anything they’ve heard in hours, sounding as if it came from somewhere in the harbor itself. Musket shots and screams of panic sound from somewhere out in the harbor, followed by an orange flash of light that looks and feels like fire. He stands aside in shock even as the constables rush forward to take a look out of the southwest window towards the harbor…
…what they see is the three-masted frigate Falcon, sister ship to the Gryphon, exploding in a massive ball of flame on its main deck in its rearmost position of the eastern row of anchored ships. A massive fireball seems to overwhelm the main deck of the Falcon even as a few sailors on fire feebly jump or fall off into the cold waters of the harbor; smoke billows upward as the rigging catches ablaze, the frigate’s mainmast going up like a torch. From the inferno that now engulfs the heart of the Falcon the constables make out a…man or some humanoid figure, striding across the burning deck as if the fire did not affect him at all. Wielding what can only be described as blade of living flame, the humanoid figure holds aloft the sword and sweeps it in an arc towards the sea wall in front of them. Instantly, all of the gas lamps shatter and go dark, though the morning light still allows them to see outwards in the foggy chill.
* A pair of finely wrought thistledown boots in the Risuri elvish style (enchanted, Spellcraft DC 20)
* 2 potions of Risuri healing tonic (enchanted, Spellcraft DC 16)
* A beautiful embroidered thistledown full cloak in the Risuri elvish style, patterened with spidery silver silken thread (enchanted, Spellcraft DC 18)
* An elegant silver ring in the style of a lover’s knot, engraved with skyseer runes of Avilona and marked with elvish script denoting the name of ‘Sorkana Dell’ and ‘freedom’ (enchanted, Spellcraft DC 16)
* 2 potions of Risuri healing tonic (enchanted, Spellcraft DC 16)
* 1 potion of a misty vapor (enchanted, Spellcraft DC 20)
I'm destined to never eat breakfast again. Tobias thinks to himself at the sound of the explosion, the thought it quickly replaced with less selfish concerns as he sees the Falcon go down in flame.
"Who do you suppose that is?" He asks no one in particular as he watches the strange figure a few more moments. "And how do you suppose we stop them?" He listens for suggestions as he heads toward the door. He's unsure if he can do anything to help but standing idly by seems the worst option.
Jesselle peers out the window for a quick moment to see what is going on. "We cannot do anything up here." Jesselle starts down the stairs of the tower to move outside. The woman draws her bow as she comes out of the tower's door.
Anneca stews in her rage, forcing herself to catalog the items taken off the bodies of Ilton and Sorkana. Rather than collaborating with Jesselle as she tries (and fails, Anneca notes imperiously) to identify all of the items, Anneca takes them away for her own solitary study. As she examines the items, she grinds her teeth and thinks over the events of the last day. She wonders why the conspiracy hadn't included her - wasn't her hatred of Evelyn sufficient to get an invitation? In the end, it was best that she wasn't included, as she isn't on the way back to Risur for a tribunal. Yet somehow she feels disappointed and left out, as if Hopkins had simply overlooked her. In her heart, she knows that it is not a rational thought and against the vows she took for the Constabulary, but she can't help but think it. She manages to catch a bit of sleep despite her racing mind, knowing that it is necessary to draw back into the well of mana to fuel her spells the next day. Catching a few hours of sleep is not ideal, but certainly not the worst night's sleep she's ever had.
As the light shines in the morning, she rubs the exhaustion from her eyes. She gets up slowly as the sun rises, stretching her soreness away. She spends a good hour reading over her spellbook, committing them to memory. Each spell has its own mental wiring that she uses to stitch the arcane power together, so that she can call upon the magic when needed. She pages through the spellbook of the defeated wizard before closing her eyes again and getting a little bit more sleep. She barely stirs when the sailor comes up to give them notice of breakfast, but the explosion startles her out of sleep. She makes it to the window just in time to see the rest of the ship engulfed in flame. She immediately grabs onto the coin and points to the silent air elemental, "Go save as many sailors as you can. Go!" As the elemental zips to the harbor, Anneca runs back to grab her bandoliers and weapons. "Let's go. Someone needs killin'."
Gemma has just finished most of her map when she hears the yeoman announce breakfast and then the loud BOOM of the explosion. She immediately goes to the nearest window to see what has happened.
By the stars and sea...
She is momentarily agape at the utter disaster, until she sees the man on fire and she hears the gas lamps exploding. Rather than rush downstairs, she stays by the window long enough for careful observation. She looks for anything, little or obvious, that might give her team an advantage if they have to engage. But Gemma has a feeling this isn't their fight.
She sees Constable Wesmere go by and then Anneca, ready to fight.
I have a strong feeling this will fall on deaf ears...
She calls after her. "Anneca! We have no way to get to them! There's nothing you can do. That thing on the deck looks like it unaffected by fire. Even if your flames reached it, they might make it worse."
Gemma then looks to Constable Utegg. "This has been probably one of the worst first introductions ever. Hopefully, if we all survive, we can try again over tea. In the meantime, to answer your question, unless that man comes to us, we have no way of fighting him from here. And did you see the sword? The flame around it seems almost...alive. I'm guessing that quality won't bode well for us if we engage."
Anneca calls back in a grumbling shout, "I can do more than just light him on fire! Come on!" She doesn't stop her stride to consider if there is a better option than rushing headlong into battle.
Emerson is somewhat disappointed when he doesn't find anything on the two rebel agents that might help them with ingress into the fortress. "Well I guess the bombard cannons will get us in the fortress but I was hoping for something that might help us find the duchess."
He does find the two bags of marbles interesting and pockets them. "I suggest we divide the healing potions amongst our melee types. I'm sure Johnathan would have plenty of need of these if he was still with us." He's sorry he says it the moment it comes out. 'Best not to think of things you have no control over you dolt!'
He spends the rest of the night sleeping but wakes before dawn to meditate. He is still in his trance when the explosion happens. His eyes open just in time to see Jesselle followed by Anneca leap down the stairs.
Hill stands up and grabs his musket. Shrugging his shoulders at Gemma as if saying 'You heard the woman', he trots down the stairs after their grumbling wizard.
* A very fine quality sheensteel curved warblade from the exotic slavelands beyond Elfaivar, darkened to hide its sheen
* A very fine quality set of lamellar armor made out of bands of treated darkwood leaves, highly tooled and engraved
* 2 potions of Risuri healing tonic
* 2 small daggers in sheaths stained with greenblood oil
* 2 bags marbles, 1 pouch sneezing powder, 1 vial antitoxin, 1 set of normal thieves’ tools
* An elaborately engraved dagger with a silver wire hilt and sylvan engravings
* An elegant silver ring in the style of a lover’s knot, engraved with skyseer runes of Avilona and marked with elvish script denoting the name of ‘Sorkana Dell’ and ‘freedom’ on it. Bearing a faint emerald green aura (transmutation), the wearer will never suffer from an adverse fall past a few feet, finding they will gently float safely to the ground from greater heights
* Scroll of arcane magic: fog cloud
* Scroll of arcane magic: 2x resist energy
* 2 potions of Risuri healing tonic
* 1 potion of a misty vapor
* A leather-bound small book of elvish poetry from the time before the fall of Elfaivar, inscribed affectionately with Sorkana’s name by Garrys.
By the time the constables reach the ground floor of the lighthouse tower and press outward to the stone porch with the stairs, they glimpse the Falcon is fully engulfed in flames now on its main deck and all three masts, with sailors still plunging overboard for the chance of life in the cold waters of the harbor. Screams of wounded and dying men fill the ears, and sailors from the neighboring frigate Majestic just fore of the burning ship are hastily working to sever the planks and ropes that link them before it too goes up in flames. There is a sickening crunching sound as the mysterious humanoid with the flaming blade throws something like a shield at a navigator druid upon the sterncastle of the Majestic – the silver shield seems to strike the druid and bite into his chest and face, savaging the officer before flying back to the outstretched hand of the figure, the front of the shield seemingly embossed in the savage visage of a leopard, its metal fangs dripping with fresh blood. More gunfire from men on the Majestic rake the armored figure, and though he seems unconcerned he does seem to flinch once or twice. It is then that he leaps into the air from the deck of the burning Falcon, some fifty feet into the air and well over one-hundred feet ahead of them, landing nimbly upon the top of the sea wall near a shattered gaslamp where the constables briefly have a better vantage point in viewing him.
The figure is definitely humanoid, but tall and seemingly not human, with fair skin and black hair. Armored in what appears to be breathtaking feysteel scaled armor in the shape of overlapping leaves that shimmer slightly as if from an intense heat, the leopard-embossed feysteel shield is in one hand and the dreadful blade of writhing flame is in the other, with a cloak draped around him that can only be described as living smoke. They never see his face fully, as he is intent on the far side of the sea wall, and before they can react he is off, running faster than what a normal man could ever run. The cloak actually seems to billow outwards and obscures the stranger completely in a smoky cloud as he moves, with only the fiery blade flickering in front of him as he runs. There is no chance of the constables catching up with him now, though they can move forward in the direction he is running towards the far harbor wall. To their right the Falcon is doomed, with nothing to do but burn to the waterline, the sailors of the Black Needle at the docks now rushing whaleboats off to save men floundering in the water, even as the sailors of the Majestic struggle to break the Falcon off from the chain of ships and set it off on its own to burn and die in the harbor.
As the constables surge forward and reach the part of the sea wall where the mysterious figure landed just past the stone ramp to the lighthouse docks, they hear more screams in the far distance. For a terrible moment they figure he is some sort of assassin of the Duchess, possibly heading to murder Admiral Jellicoe in his forward command post just beyond the far tower where the seawall joins the harbor wall near the outer eastern gate. Yet at the last part of the harbor wall he leaps westward across to a siege tower being assembled near one of the harbor gates, downing three marines who get in his way with a single stroke of his fiery blade each, then scampers up the siege tower with incredible speed and alacrity that can only be magically induced. With a final empowered leap the humanoid warrior enshrouded in billowing smoke is up and over the harbor wall, and into the town of Axis beyond. More screams of dying men can be faintly heard on the other side of the wall, then nothing more…
Jesselle takes it all in as the scene plays out. her mind races through what she is seeing to what she knows... "Fey magic... feysteel armor and shield."
"No... can it be?" Jesselle starts before she elaborates to those that have followed her, "Two hundred years ago, an eladrin by the name of Asrabey Varal joined with Risuri forces during the First Yerasol War. His interest was in rescuing the eldrian woman from some Donaran general."
She then surmises, "It would appear that he is a might bit, angry? That eladrin woman perhaps?"
There’s an obvious division between the newcomers and the other constables. Fethryth doesn’t blame them; the team went from celebrating to watching two of their number’s arrests, and now they have to work with the people who delivered those warrants. It’s an awkward position, and she understands why her group isn’t getting a warm welcome. If the tables were turned she wouldn’t be friendly either. As long as everyone can work together like professionals it doesn’t matter if they warm up either.
Out of curiosity she picks up the book of Elvish poetry; she’s probably the only one here who speaks the language.
Before the constables rush out the door Fethryth grabs Tobias’ shoulder. ”Utegg, use the wand, please. I want all the help I can get fighting that….person.”
Anneca seems almost impressed by the sheer destructive power of his fire, even though she looks sickened by the death that it has wrought upon her countrymen. She mentally twists the elements of her spells in her head, knowing that she will have to use something other than fire. She takes out one of the few remaining scrolls she has and summons armor of force. "Looks like we're going to have to kill ourselves an eladrin." She starts to remember everything she can on the topic, gleaned from many hours in Mitchell University's library spent consuming as many books as she could get her hands on.
Why he is here, killing Risuri marines and sailors indiscriminately on his way to an unknown destination, is unknown. You do know that Duchess Ethelyn Lesterman has long been the King's liaison to the Unseen Court for decades now, though there are some aspects of the Pact of Kelland that only the King or his oathsworn Green Knight protector would be privy to.
The name Asrabey Varal you DO know, calling back memories of your youth in the enclave: He was a haughty and powerful eladrin that even the eladrin elders of your enclave deferred to, having some great standing with the Unseen Court. He walked by you one day in a procession to the elder's halls, not noticing you in the slightest of course. He was not armed or armored then in your memory, but the way he walked and regarded everyone is a symbol in your mind of the worst qualities of the eladrin "masters" - arrogant, haughty, superior, vain. One other note comes to mind, that of enclave gossip about Asrabey Varal and his utter devotion to an eladrin lady love...his bonded mate that he was never with...Kasvarina Varal you recall.
Willem nods to Emerson, "I need to replenish my healin' tonic so I will take one of those and I will make sure to report it at the end of our mission. It is either that, or I need to raid the Navy/Marine stock before we depart on the next leg of our mission."
Willem looks at the Yeomen after getting up early to prepare for the next leg of the mission and to watch for anything that slips by the Corps, "Thank you Yeo ..." As Willem is interrupted by the huge explosion, "Well, there goes breakfast and like I was sayin' about havin' a watch?! We should still have watches when we are in the warzone even if we have our fellow Risurian comrades with us." Willem grabs his weapons and gear, and stays with his fellow constables.
As the group of Constables reach the point where the mysterious and dangerous figure had landed on the sea wall, Willem's keen eyes searches the area and keeps track of the figure.
Whether distracted by the figure or something else, Willem misses any evidence that might suggest who the figure is, "It appears that the figure is headin' for Admiral Jellicoe. We should make haste to see if we can stop him from killin' or kidnappin' the Admiral and then get on to our second leg of our mission!"
Willem looks at Emerson, "Well my friend, Emerson, it looks like we have another Yearsol War to fight, just with different circumstances?"
Willem begins to run towards the battle with his rifle at the ready.
"Hell..." Tobias says as he uses Feth's wand to provide her with some additional protection. "Asrabay Varal, really? According to what we studied at the academy, the only reason he even sided with us was to save an Eladrin woman, we just happened to be on the right side of the war. Looks like that may no longer be the case."
Rubbing his head he breathes an uneasy sigh and looks at his colleagues, new and old, as he draws his blade. "Whatever our mission, he's disrupting the efforts to take the island and if we don't handle him now it could undo everything you did before we got here. Let's go handle the situation, shall we?"
___
Willem of course waits for everyone else to follow for he knows better to charge off alone.
"I agree that he must be stopped... but I am thinking that maybe the Duchess might have something to do with this. She was the King's liaison with the Unseen Court. Who knows what she has told them. It would be easy to deceive them to have them work on her side."
She looks to the others as she sees Willem ready and waiting, "Whenever we are ready, let's go deal with this."
Fethryth put the poetry book with the rest of her things. It doesn’t seem important but the R.H.C will want to look it over anyways. At least it’ll give her something to read on the boat ride home.
”Kasvarina Varal, that’s her name. His ‘lady love’. Bah.” The elf scowls as she takes in the eladrin’s trail of destruction. The poor sailors never had a chance. ”Asrabey’s high up in the Eladrin food chain, he’s in real good with the Unseen Court Did you see how his sword changed into a whip and back again? That’s serious magic. The only bright spot is that he’s an arrogant son of a b~$#@; he’ll underestimate us and we can use that to our advantage.”
Gemma decides to pipe in. "That and he bleeds." She's been standing near the spot where the Eladrin landed on the seawall and points down to the drops of blood.
Torn between continuing on their original course and going to try and stop Asrabey, Gemma takes a moment to start tipping her crossbow bolts with the cold iron blanche she brought with her. She knows it will do little to stop an Eladrin but she knows full well there are more fey around and she doesn't want to be caught off-guard.
This is shit. Pure and utter shit. Fat load of good all my tactical classes are doing me now. No one will listen to me anyway. I suppose this is what will serve as 'becoming a team'. F@#~ing stupid is what it is. Fine. I'll go along and be the f$~@ing shield for the group. How about that? All those upper classes and training and I'm going to end up a damn meat shield. Damn you, Ethelyn, for all this and damn your brother for not realizing what you were doing.
Gemma finally stands up and gathers herself, taking a deep breath before drawing her sabre. "Everyone ready then?"
Willem notices that Gemma is not too happy and stops, "What do you want us to do Constable Atherton now that we are ready to make the attempt to save the Admiral and then move on to the second leg of our mission. I do suggest we cautiously jog there, doin' it tactically will take too much time and the admiral will be guaranteed dead or kidnapped. Once we spot this Varal thing or any rebel, then we should go tactical?"
Gemma appreciates the Willem even took the time to ask. It actually takes her back for a second and forces her to think of options. "To be brutally honest...I think we're going to run up on nothing but death. We have to go that way anyway and we can see who's still alive...including Admiral Jellico and do what we can."
She takes another moment before continuing. "Did you see how he moved and what he didn't do? He didn't even give us a second glance. He didn't stop to kill us and he didn't stop to look at Sorkana either. He's clearly on a mission. Unless all of us have speed like that, by the time we catch up, the damage will be done. If he's still there, then we can certainly have a go at him but he did just managed to single-handedly sink an entire ship. We still have a duty to find and rescue Jierre and capture Ethelyn above all else."
"But trust me when I say that if he is aligned with the fey and I have a way to kill him, I will without hesitation."
Willem nods and watches where his barrel is pointing, "You said he was bleedin' so maybe he will be soften up if we run into him. As for killin' him, I have no qualms about that since he just sunk one of our ships and killed an unknown number of our troops so I will be adding holes to him if I can!"