"Five, sir. Some dwarven investigator, that crazy woman in red, some kid, a druid, and DeMorgan of course."
"Five? I know after what happened I demanded they give us a choice, wasn't sure they'd actually follow through."
Grimacing at the reminder, Sergeant Valdemar speaks
"Sir, I understand if you want to replace me. I should never have let the kid go in."
"Screw that, Abel! You made the right decision. If that thing'd gotten loose we would've lost more than three people. Sefu and Laurestine knew what they were doing. They kept the door locked when the kid turned - they could've run. The other Sergeants agreed with your decision. You made the right decision, but you should never have had to make it!"
"This time we're not just taking what we get sent. This time there's an interview. Send them in - and send in Castor and Ophelia as well. Might as well get their opinions now."
The sergeant nods, and heads out to the waiting room\recreational area.
"Alright. Everyone head in, interview starts now. Ophelia, Castor - with me."
The sergeant ushers everyone in to the room where the masked Spooky stands silently waiting, silhouetted against the sunlight from the enormous window at the end of the room.
Diene bursts in proudly, the intentional swagger to her stride making her seem extremely confident or like a cabin girl pirate who's a bit lost but refusing to admit it. The half-elven girl wears a lot of flamboyant red. Red ribbons in hair, red in her jacket, red in her sashes, red in her pants. Everything that isn't a functional brown leather or white undershirt, is generally some shade of red. At second glance with a well informed eye, you notice the skin tone, a shade darker and warmer than normal, and the details of her scarves, you can tell a hint of Varisian ancestry. But even without a well informed eye, you will spot the pumped muscle that indicates this is Diene, not a little girl. And compared to those behind her, she's plenty tall.
"I'm Diene, heard you're the squad with the fun missions." Diene's left cheek curls slightly upward in a wry smile as she winks for emphasis at "fun". She stares straight at Spooky's eyes, a glimmer of defiance in her own over his positioning in the room. It's obviously uncomfortable to do so, given his positioning, but Diene's not one to back down.
Ophelia loved mornings. It was that fine moment of the daily cycle where she could finally start to talk and tinker again, breaking her nightly isolation and stop worrying about 'sleeping' people. Her good mood was apparent in the certain spring in her steps and the slight smile her mouth was curled in. She couldn't wait to meet the new recruits!
Inside the office, she took up position at the left side of the room with her back against the wall. This would let her get a good overview of the room - and observe all the new faces. Once in her spot, she stood perfectly still with her arms to her sides. Only her head and eyes were animate, darting around and trying to get a good look at everyone new.
Today, Ophelia is wearing a long grey dress, with high collar and long sleeves to match. As such her nature is not readily apparent, but anyone familiar with clockworks might still tell. If the fact that she seemed to be wearing impossibly thin armoured gloves were not enough to tip people off, her face made entirely of pale porcelain might.
Her blue eyes had a blank sheen to them, as if made of glass, and she did not blink often. When she did, she did so in rapid succession with a somewhat guilty look, as if she tried to make up for missing it earlier.
Barely audible in the general ruckus she emitted a soft whirring sound as well as a rhythmic 'tic tic tic'.
Daria almost could not sleep last night. The transfer papers had arrived, she would be transmitted to a new squad...one with a reputation. After waking from a restless sleep, she considered what to wear for the interview.
At first, she opted for formal attire, fixing her hair and putting on make-up, but that looked so out-of-place on her that she quickly dismissed the idea. And her child-sized Gala uniform looked like it came straight out of a costume-shop.
Then she considered a natural look, her usual dress and style, with her glamored armor, trousers and wild hair, but that seemed to not fit the occasion either. She would look like a tomboyish girl among a set of proper guards.
In the end, Daria settled for a yellow dress with black sleeves, wearing white shoes and a red ribbon in her hair, hoping that the display of Nex's national colors would make a statement by itself, while the dress allows her to feel somewhat comfortable about herself. It was one of her first aquisitions after arriving in Quantium, and she did not have many opportunities to wear it to date.
Standing only slightly above 2ft 9 with 28lbs, in the present company, she does feel like a little girl all over again. Her short brown hair is not long enough to make a ponytail, so she just wears the ribbon as a hairband.
After being called in, she steps into Spooky's office with as firm a step as possible, trying to cover up how nervous she is about this.
"Junior Guard Sorceress Daria Hearth, here for the interview, SIR"
After introducing herself, Daria heads over towards the wall, standing next to the construct named Ophelia, and tries to calm her mind, looking at the other guards entering the room and observing them, focusing her attention on those to stop from thinking about the current situation, but remaining alert in case she is adressed by anyone.
Daria's overly load squeak of a "Sir" draws Diene's gaze for a moment and the raise of an eyebrow before she returns her attention to Spooky.
Thirus stops a moment before heading into the office. Not so much out of nerves but to check himself over. The young, dark haired dwarf usually gives less then two coppers about his appearance, but not today. He had to impress his new commander, boss, captain, whatever very shortly.
His armor is perfect of course, check twice this morning. The finely crafted stoneplate glints softly in the dim light of the hallway. Gilded with color and copper, it cost him a fortune in Absalom years ago, but it was worth it. He had slowly improved on the armor over the years, giving him a nearly impregnable outer layer. It was clumsy, but it had saved his life many times. Few weapons on the streets could begin to break it. His thick (but dexterous) hands next touch his beard, with the fine and strong braids woven in it.
The dwarf nods to himself as he moves on to his polished boot, clean leggings, gleaming helmet and even washed skin. No expense spared He thinks wryly, then moves into the office. The room is already filling up, dismaying the dwarf. He hoped to be first and impress the sergeant.
Thirus notices a half-elf and two other men but is quickly distracted by....a machine? Amazingly, it seems to be a clockwork person! The mechanic in him stirs excitingly and he rushes over to...it? Her? Staring with bad taste he says, uncertainly, “Hello?”
Castor follows the sergeant into the room staying close to him. He stands calmly, scanning the newcomers as they enter the room and shuffle around.
His two distinguishing features are his white hair, looking out of place compared with a relatively young look of his face, and the thrush sitting on his left shoulder.
”Squeeky, be a good boy and try to keep your comments to the minimum. This is official business after all.” he tells the bird quietly offering him a piece of fruit. His eyes never leave the candidates.
”Squeekygoodboy, donotworry, master, youknowme.” the bird replies before snatching the treat.
”I do, my friend, that is exactly why I said that.” Castor chuckles.
Red. The colour of blood? And the heart. Hmm." Ophelia recalled all the poetical functions of said organ, in addition to keeping the red fluid flowing. Red for emotions? Passion or fury...
Tiny! Is it perhaps still growing? It has a pretty dress nevertheless. The clockwork shoots the halfling a curious look, as if trying to determine its purpose and function. It wears red too! Hmm...
A gnawing worry that she too was supposed to bring something red, for whatever reason she probably missed, is pleasantly dispersed when the dwarf enters the room. Last dwarf I knew wore red, in her hair. Not this one! This one wears stone (but not in its hair!). How curious! She didn't have long to ponder over the strange outfit, for the dwarf came rushing closer. At an alarming speed, given the probable inertia of said dwarf and outfit combination.
"Hello?" she echoed in a hollow, chiming voice, while her lips mover ever so slightly. Ophelia looks back at the dwarf for a long moment, trying to gauge his reaction, then blinks and speaks up. "Hello. Welcome to Spooky's Ward! It's namesake will be wanting to say a few words shortly - but before that I can try to answer any question you may have."
The dwarf visibly starts when the clockwork creation speaks, parroting his words back with skill. He had seen magical creations before, of course, in his travels. Indeed he had often sought them out, and had even seen various constructs at work. Massive, lumbering beings of stone and iron doing brute labor or standing ceaseless vigil.
But this...this was as fine and precise as any clock his father had made, all those years ago. A wondrous collection of gears and cogs must dwell inside. Thirus's voice is a bit shaky as he replies. "Who..made you? The workmanship is amazing....My father was a clockmaker so I understand the issues involved...
Already nervous, Daria realizes a Dwarf in a Stone Plate is storming towards her...nevermind that he is staring at the Construct she is standing next to, at this rate, he will probably run all over her, because it does not seem he even realized her presence in the room...
Not wanting to try and make a stand against this massive chunk of stone, Daria attempts to move out of the way gracefully.
While the Dwarf starts incoherently speaking to the Construct, Daria glances over at the masked person near the window. Spooky was just observing, for now, probably waiting for the remaining recruits to enter.
Oh well, in that case...that construct is fascinating. Daria positions herself so that she can see Lt. Spooky, while observing the Clockwork Creature. The talk is not so interesting to her, but she has a close chance to see her talk, act, and react...fascinating-
Then another man enters, with white hair, a face too young to match, and a talking trush on his shoulder. Daria had seen enough to gather it was probably also a Guard Sorcerer, with his familiar.
What could have caused his hair to be white? A failed magical experiment? Something he had to face in this unit? She was here to reinforce this squad...and Daria kind of doubted her predecessors happily retired to open these job positions.
Just what did she get into here. Oh well, if nothing else, this promised to be interesting. Another ex-criminal turned guard (now THERE's a story i can relate to), a dwarf (who failed to even see her with all that stone cluttering up his vision below his own eye-level) that seems to have fallen in love-at-first-sight with the clockwork guardswoman(why, exactly, did they create her in a female form? She clearly seemed female...weren't clockworks by default neutrums?), a Lt. wearing a mask (just what happened there...am I unable to remember or were the details never published? Think, Daria...), and a guard sorcerer with unnaturally aged hair (What would I look like if I ended up with white hair? No way, I would be too vain and use permanent magic coloring). And if her research was right, there were some more...interesting people out there and about to enter the office.
As she bustled in, Constance De Morgan couldn't help but feel an awkward sense of unease. She immediately identified the first suspect. Lieutenant Spooky had this room built, like many leaders in the guard, to afford himself a position of power over those entering his office. This one was a little more theatrical than most, a slant in the room's layout could give a subject the suggestion that they were being crushed or that the Lieutenant himself was a looming shadow. Claustrophobia. But these were tricks. She knew them. She wasn't bothered.
But the real reason for her discomfort was that she wasn't used to being taller or even at eye level with anyone. Most of her ward- her old ward now- were comprised of Elves and Men. Being five foot nothing and a hundred pounds even meant she had to posture and claw her way up the ranks to compete in the male-centric Guard. Most people took one look at her button nose, flaxen bob, and cornflower blue eyes and saw somebody's cute aunt or a country bumpkin's wife, not a notoriously skilled detective. She always dressed professionally and in greys to give herself a harder image, but it was still difficult. Now she didn't have to worry about any of that. More than half the squad would be female and shorter than her. It should have been comforting, but it had the opposite effect because the phenomenon was so foreign to her. It must be a trick. But how?
She stood among the other recruits stoically, holding in a frustrated sigh. Grint is probably laughing in his chair right now. Two Ex-cons and Two murder-hobos Adventurers. He's playing mind-games with me. Its okay. just calm down Constance, you need to work together with these people. The people of Quantium are more important than your petty squabbles with Grint.
Then she couldn't take it any more. De Morgan expected unprofessional behavior from the more dubious elements of their number, the bruiser or the thief, but the dwarf was interrupting what should have been a businesslike meeting with idle curiosity. She addressed the Lieutenant curtly, "Sir, with all due respect, we are here to conduct an interview correct? I don't think I would be out of line to say we should cut the fawning," She tilts her head to the dwarf who looks to be wearing a fortress, " and get back to business. "
The Sergeant winces at De Morgan's cutting comments "One more still coming in, sir" he reports.
Spooky nods to De Morgan
"We've already started, De Morgan. I find You can tell a lot by how people act when you're quiet and they're nervous. This wouldn't be the first time someone's tried to chat up one of the panel in an interview..." he pauses, then agrees thoughtfully "Though it isn't normally the Dwarf."
"I don't want to explain myself twice, so we wait for" he looks at the
sergeant momentarily "Zenj".
Rumour has it that he was not much of a people person, so instead of taking an apprentice of flesh and blood he created one for himself out of clockwork, with the help of a local mage. The mage used an experimental (or perhaps ancient and rediscovered?) method of animation which resulted in a greater then normal awareness in the creation. No doubt, this one contained an abundance of complex mechanical devices, but magic was what elevated it above a simple *thing*.
But still, the clockwork shared some qualities with its more mundane cousins. A mainspring (spiral of a thin steel ribbon) most likely stored the power that animated it, as a pendulum would be impractical in a moving device. As such, the clockwork requires regular winding. However it is very likely that the spring would be magically altered, as the power storage requirements otherwise would demand a cripplingly large mainspring.
The tiny is nimble. Perhaps it is ready then? Strange...
"Whom made me?" The clockwork tilts her head to the side and once again falls silent for a moment. This time she speaks with a bit of warmth in her tone. "My creator was a clockmaker too. That would make us offspring similar origin..." She leaned slightly forward and held out her hand, comparing it to the dwarf. "... But not that similar, it would seem."
Stuck on a certain topic, Ophelia halts her motions when Morgan calls out. Then her head tilts to the opposite side and she glances somewhat confused at the new arrival. Fawning? Verb: To create more spawn of deer; fawns. Wait ... That can't be it, can it?
The last one into the room is a brown skinned woman, almost a girl, with a strong face who is, if anything, juust slightly shorter than the gunslinger guardswoman that had preceeded her into the room.
Her hair is wrapped in a tight and practical bandanna though a few brown wisps have managed to escape the green wrapping. She's got a strong face with eyes that are on the narrow side and she's wearing earrings that are maybe just a bit larger than regulations might permit. She has a scimitar in a scabbard strapped to her left thigh and a mace hanging from her belt to her right. A cloak of the same colour as her bandana is arranged over her Hide Armor. It's a bit out of sorts and it's obvious that the she's been running.
She's a bit flustered and out of breath. Isama Zenj reporting sir. Sorry for being late. Wasn't informed of my change in assignment until I got to my shift. Had to run across the city to get here and uh, got lost a few times on the way... realizing she's blathering she snaps to attention Sir!
"Right. Thank you all for coming. Save your questions for the end. I am Senior Guard Lieutenant Spooky. The handsome man by the door is Guard Sergeant Abel Valdemar. We teach Guards to be observant, so I'm sure you've all noted we have too many people for a single squad."
"If you're looking around surprised right now, that's not a good sign."
"I'm sure you all think you know what you've signed up for, but there's a lot of rumors, so let me tell you straight."
"Most wards have a policy of spreading out their best personnel. It works, but it means there's a lot of inexperienced Guards suddenly called on when stuff goes wrong. I formed the 'special squad' a few months ago, because I believed that it would be better to have a top-notch, well-outfitted team that could be called in by the other squads in an emergency. A squad that could be called in on the truly difficult cases, rather than the fairly routine - but important - tasks most squads deal with."
"So far it's worked. The special squad has dealt with a Fae serial killer, an attempt by the church of Zyphus to replace guards with daemons, and stopping a Gebbish vampire converting the city. There's other things as well. The council of 3 and 9 approve of the 'experiment', so we've got support for now."
"What we don't have is people. We've lost a lot of good guards in just a few months. Anything you've heard about this being a suicide squad is guano - but there is a higher risk. Based on the current odds, if you stay, there's a good chance you'll be a hero, and about a 50/50 chance you'll be a dead one. That's not good enough."
"I petitioned the Council, and have been given permission to try something new. We're going to try you all out for a few days. Once we know who's likely to actually make it through then we transfer the others to the Worms - sorry, sewer security squad."
"Alright. Questions?"
Finally seeing all the candidates, Castor replays his earlier conversation with Squeeky, while the Lieutenant gives his opening speech.
The bird flew into the room and circled Castor several times.
"Mastermaster, thenewreinforcementsarecomin'."
Castor gets up from his chair, uses a decanter to fill a small glass with water and with a gesture invites the bird to drink.
”Calm down, Squeeky. Drink a bit and tell me what you were able to learn about them.”
Squeeky settles on the rim of the glass and enjoys the taste of clear water for a moment. Then he rises his small head, looks at Castor and chirrups a bit more calmly.
”Therearefiveofthem, master. MyfriendBloodyOnefromCentralwasabletolookattheirfiles. AndIsawthemwithmyowneyes. Oneisasmallgirl, likesreading, veryagile, veryfriendly.”
”A small girl?” asks Castor surprised.
”Yesmaster, BloodyOnesayssheishalfsomethingTien, IthinkMing, orBink.”
”Oh, a hafling. That explains a lot. Please continue, my friend.” Castor smiles.
”Otheroneisabittaller, dressedallinred, likethatgirlfromoneofthefairytails, theonewiththewerewolf.” Squeeky continues ”Shetriestobewittyandiswellmuscled.” the bird pauses. ”AndBloodyOnetoldmeshesayssheishalfawsome. Shewroteitasaraceinherapplicationform. ButIdonotknowwhatthatmeans.”
”If she wrote that, she must be half mad as well.”
”Whatraceishalfawesomehalfmad, master?”
”Usually the problematic one… Never mind, Squeeky. Please tell me about the others.”
”Thirdoneisalongtimeguard, shecarriesoneofthosefiresticksyoutoldmethesouthernnationmakes. BloodyOnesayssheistrouble. Ormaybeintrouble, heisaconfusedbirdsometimes.”
”If her name is De Morgan, I have heard about her. Some say she is a straight edge, some say she is a lunatic.”
”Isshehalfmadtoo, master?”
”I seriously doubt that, Squeeky. More likely she has a habit of stepping on someone’s toes.”
”Thatshouldnotbeabigproblem, master, sheisquitesmalltoo.”
”It is not a question of size and weight, my boy. I will explain it to you later. Now what about the last two?” Castor asks.
”Thelastwomenisashortonetoo. Darkskined. Seemscheerfuland…fascinatedbyveveryaspectofthecity. Hasanicescimitarthingie. ShesawmeandIthinkshelikesme. Sheisnicetononbipedals.”
”Non-bipedals? You just continue to surprise me, my little friend. So, have your parrot friend read anything about her? ”
”Hementionedtherewasonewordonthetopofherform. Inlargeletters. Itwas… “ the bird pauses. ”Enthusiastic!” he shrills happily.
”Oh, that probably means they want to put her on the front line. Makes sense. ”
”Enthusiasticmeansfrontliner?” the thrush asks.
”No, it just means she is expandable. As are we all. So, what about the last one? Is it a woman too? ”
”Nomaster, butheisalsoverticallychallenged. Hemustbemalebecauseheisveryhairy. Andhewalkslikeafortress. BloodyOnesaidhehailsfromAbsolom. Wasaninvestigatortherebeforeitallwentsouthbound. Buthereallylooksmorelikeaonemanarmythananinvestigator.”
”Well, we will just have to wait and see, Squeeky. You are a good boy. Have a treat.”
Having a good memory has its advantages. At least now I have a chance to compare the information from Squeeky and his friend Bloody One with reality.
Hmm, you were right about one thing, Squeeky, they are all vertically challenged. I almost feel like a giant here. Not a feeling I am used to.
Shyly, Daria raises her hand:
"Sir, when you say 'try out for a few days', do you mean as in a training or exercise routine, or did something come up that warrants this squads attention?"
Daria then quickly glances at the other new recruits before continuing
"I'm asking because according to my own research we seem to have very varied....fields of expertise, and a standard testing procedure may not fully account for that. And I don't want to end up in the sewers on basis of a biased examination result."
In her head, that last part had sounded just fine, but it had already taken most of Daria's courage to even bring this up to Lt.Spooky, resulting in her voice kind of "trailing off", adding it more as a kind of aftertought, rather than as the "challenge of the system" it was intended as.
Isama is a bit flustered Sir, I think there might have been some misunderstanding. I've only been on the guard fer coming up to about three months now. I figured I was being re-assigned to another beat. This is the suicide squad?
Thirus leaps back from the clockwork investigator, suddenly mindful that he had been chattering away while the others had filed in. Off to a great start.... To make up for this he takes a watchful, respectful countenance as the Lieutenant talks, making sure to remain silent.
A test? Well, let's hope I still have it... he thinks to himself as he looks at the odd group assemble around him. Misfits and odd-mans outs but most of them looking more dangerous then you'd think. Thirus would have to work hard to pull his weight here.
He watches a halfling raise her hand and ask questions. The dwarf resuloteulty keeps his to himself. The time would come to stand out. This was not that time. The last thing the stone-armored Dwarf wanted was to be sent into the sewers....
Spooky holds up a hand
"First, this is not training. Business as usual. If we suddenly have a week without at least one major case then I'll damn well keep you all because that has literally never happened."
"Second, Worms is only because I have vacancies there I can never seem to keep filled. You're welcome to transfer to some other squad - assuming you haven't burned all your bridges."
"Third, I just damn well said this is not a suicide squad. Look, two of the fatalities happened because squad members were doing private investigation on the side. Another three were caused when a new recruit ignored containment protocols and got turned into a Shadow, and two team members sacrificed themselves to keep the resulting threat contained. Since then I've managed to get the equipment allotment almost doubled. If there's a genuine threat, you call in the cavalry. I'll back your call in that case. I'm doing this interview because I want the best on the squad so we don't lose anyone else."
From long experience Thirus knew there was always one good answer to this sort of thing.
"Sir, yes sir. I will make it my personal duty that everyone in this unit survives to see the dawn, sir!". The dwarf's gleaming stoneplate gives his words a certain weight and gravity.
With only a trace of humor Thirus gives a ragged salute, the one in common through much of the Inner Sea.
Daria had not forgotten the Dwarf almost running her over a few minutes ago, and turns to him, a friendly smile on her face:
"Is that an oath, Ser Thirus? A personal duty you vow to fulfill by your gods and honor?"
Daria is trying to "trick"(in the sense that he's in a difficult position regarding saying "no") Ser Thirus into reinforcing his claim on making everybodys survival his personal duty, knowing he would be honorbound to fulfill it as a Stonelord if he made an oath.
Naturally, she is not doing so because she wants to disadvantage Thirus, but because she sees it as a "Insurance" of sorts if her own life would be in mortal danger.
Sir.. yes Sir. Isama says a bit doubtfully and looks around. There was the Lieutenant with the incredibly odd helm. The stern Sargent near the door. Then a tall man with white hair who seemed to be a bit of a magical type, certainly not a scrapper. On the other side was a woman made of.. metal? Isama had seen a lot of wondrous thing since she had moved to Quantium but it seemed like the city had way more in store.
Unlike the rest of the.. women.. all women? well except for the dwarf... in the room these four were at ease so Isama figured they were the current members of the suicide squad and the rest of them were newcomers.
Isama looks at the others.. seems like she was the last one in Damnit! Worst possible impression to make, they'll throw me to the Worms fer sure .
There was a flamboyant half elf dressed in red who seemed like she had something to prove. A human woman with a serious expression dressed in severe grays. And a cheerful halfling
conversing with a grave dwarf.
Isama smiles. No better place to fit in than in a bunch of misfits.
There is one moment of perfect silence as Thirus gazes at Daria’s innocent seeming face. It is only marred by a slight grinding rasp of the dwarf’s stoneplate. Idly, a small part of Thirus’s mind makes a note to check the straps on that section. good stoneplate should be silent with no grating or grinding.
Most of his mind is considering Daria’s suggestion. The moment passes quickly and the dwarf’s dark eyes seem to almost glow as he formally draws his axe and bows to her, with his voice lower and more gravelly then usual. “I do so solemnly swear. I will do all in my power to bring everyone here back, alive. Consider me bound to my oath.”. He does not say it lightly, but is also aware he hardly knows these people. What did I just get into? He thinks to himself as he replaces his axe on its strap.
Diene listened to the chatter for awhile. Her face expressed a sort of 'Ooh, good question' vibe when Daria asked what was happening if there was no call for them. Diene's smile got very big when Spooky mentioned the frequency of their cases.
"So... you're saying everyone in this squad kills themselves, and that's why it's not a suicide squad?" Diene's smile remains wide, and it's clear she finds this funny rather than frightening.
Hearing the dwarf say those words calms and pleases Daria, and she gives him an reassuring nod as he raises again.
Right after, she hears Diene ask her Question, and is slightly taken aback that she would find that funny, and whispers to the Dwarf
"Well, everybody who WANTS to come back, that is. Can't force people to come back alive if they don't want to, I guess. And - thanks a lot for that."
while realizing that Diene is not wearing Armor and seems to have a rather frail build for a former thug.
Then she looked at the other two newcomers. The woman that had spoken up complaining she was new and didn't want to be in a suicide squad. Just stood there smiling. Did she buy what the LT told them? Or did she smile because she realized that a 50% casuality rate and her being new to this meant her chances were low? And that she may be better off with the Sewer Crawlers or transferring somewhere else? Daria would keep a close eye on her to see if she purposefully underperformed in any tasks set for her. Out on the streets, that could become dangerous quick.
And the other woman, who complained about the stone-clad dwarf earlier...she heard about that one. DeMorgan, was someone to watch out for. Temper Problems, divorced, lots of arrests. That woman could be trouble incarnate if not handled carefully. And considering her track record, careful meant REALLY careful.
"Clearly not everyone!" Ophelia protests. She points at Castor. "We are still left. So far ..."
"Good point, I stand corrected. Ophelia, right?" Diene gave Ophelia a nod, affirming her.
Apparently viewing the interview as practically over, Diene weaved her way across the room, to get a roughly clear line of sight between her and Ophelia so they weren't talking over anyone. She leaned an elbow against the wall. "Anyway, I was wondering how I might go about getting something or other for fighting incorporeal opponents. I don't quite have the whole, 'mystical enlightenment', part of punching people down yet, so a Shadow would be inconvenient for me. Got any advice?"
De Morgan narrows her eyes at the dwarf and the halfling when the paladin makes his oath. She throws her hands in the air as suspicion turns to outrage and scolds the dwarf, "What are you doing? That 'girl' is a thief and a con-woman. She could easily put you and your stupid paladin code in danger to save her own skin now. Even if she's fully on our side, we don't need a bonehead with a death wish on a team that is already notorious for a fifty percent death rate!"
She turns to the halfling, "I'm not going to apologize for making judgments about you. 'Once a thief, always a thief,' as the adage goes. If you think you can prove me wrong, please do, but until then, I'll be able to trust you about as far as you can throw Mr. Undershale. Yes I read all of your files, it makes things easier for me than having to find out about your dirty secrets while we're in the field."
Being confronted by DeMorgans outburst does not REALLY surprise Daria. She expected that woman to fly off the handle, sooner or later. Better here, than out in the field. But simply dismissing Ser Thirus noble gesture with such harsh words? That was not acceptable to Daria:
"Very pleased to make your aquaintance, too, . I a thief and a con-woman, oh, and you forgot smuggler, forger, blackmailer, and probably some more odd jobs. Weird considering the amount of you seem to have made according to your file. Anyway, never felt a need to hide my past around here."
Daria slowly walks circling DeMorgan, bringing Ser Thirus and Ophelia between DeMorgan and herself.
"As for Ser Thirus noble oath, I fully indeed to make that notion reciprocal."
With these words, Daria does a little curtsy towards Ser Thirus, before looking back at DeMorgan and continuing.
"You don't trust me, and thats fine. Guess what, I'll STILL look out for you. Because you may not like that, but I suppose for now we're stuck in this together. Not like we could get a and go our separate ways, right?"
Daria looks DeMorgan directly into the eyes trying to judge her reaction to this calculated provocation.
That woman is famous for her temper...if something like this would trigger an episode, it would be best here, in the office, where Spooky can see it too and the environment is controlled.
If she manages to contain herself, then she might hold a grudge against me, but thats hardly much worse than the light she sees me in right now...and SHE started it, after all...
Hey, hey Isama says spreading her hands out in a peace keeping gesture. We're supposed to be looking out fer each other, yeah? Nothing wrong with that. And anyways Isama's lips turn up in a lopsided grin. If one of us turns on the team then Mr. Thirus can still bring em in alive.. just you know in chains... and I'm thinking any chains he makes are probably unbreakable.
"I can see we're bonding already." Diene comments, with mild displeasure visible on her face, waiting for the storm to blow over and for any response from Ophelia.
De Morgan can feel the tension rising in her chest but she squashes it as it comes. The woman was baiting her, but it got so personal. Her own career was already in jeopardy, though, and she couldn't afford to make an ass of herself in front of her superior officers. At least not more so than she had already. She ignored her instinct to raise the pretentious halfling from the ground by her throat.
Instead she growled at Daria in a low voice, "You have no idea what you're talking about, Kid. And we're not friends, so don't use my first name, understand?"
Spooky looked on as the team 'bonded'. It was a sad fact that the sort of high-performing highly motivated individuals who volunteered for the Guard tended to be difficult to form into a team.
Suddenly he spun around and looked out the window. A second later he turned back
"The East Homunculus just reported a fire at" he paused for a second "the Sorcière Académie. Looks like you got your first job."
"I'll get there fast and scope things out till you all arrive. If there's a fire there and sorcerers haven't been able to put it out, something's up."
Nobility:
In terms of how well your team will be judged, the score will be calculated as...
Base=100
Each building evacuated -5
Each citizen dead -10
Each 1000gp of damage -1
Each charge of Wand of Quench used -1
Arcana:
Sorcière Académie: Unlike many magical clubs this one is almost entirely Sorcerors, Summoners, a few Bards, and even fewer Arcanists.
Sorcière Académie: The club prides itself on only allowing those of 'superior blood' entry. Thus if you don't have an inborn gift for magic, you will not be welcome. This also means the club has a different raison d'être than most magical clubs. Rather than sharing spellbooks, the club acts as a way to hire spontaneous casters with particular powers - though it does also act to share magical resources and provide training.
Sorcière Académie: The head of the Academy is well known as a seriously powerful summoner.
Dungeoneering:
Sorcière Académie: Has a large basement.
Sorcière Académie: Known to have an excellent 'zoo' of Abberations and Oozes.
Engineering:
Sorcière Académie: A large and imposing eight story stone building, with profligate space surrounding it. That space contains a large garden. Does not touch any adjacent buildings.
History:
Sorcière Académie: A club for 'spontaneous casters', with old Galtian decor and affectations. It claims strong links to pre-revolutionary Galt and Galtian nobility.
Sorcière Académie: the links to pre-revolutionary Galt are dubious at best.
Local:
Sorcière Académie: A magical Club, in the old english sense of the word. Both a social group for a select few arcane practitioners, and a building within which they meet, dine, research and occasionally reside.
Sorcière Académie: A club for 'spontaneous casters', with old Galtian decor and affectations. Considers itself very high class.
Nature:
Sorcière Académie: Surrounded by a very nice garden. Building is completely covered in ivy
Nobility:
Sorcière Académie: The founder claimed to be Galtian nobility, and the club believes this strongly.
Sorcière Académie: The club makes extensive use of Constructs dressed in pre-revolutionart Galtian Courtier's outfits.
Sorcière Académie: The founder's claims to Galtian nobility is questionable.
Sorcière Académie: The founder's claims to Galtian nobility is a flat out lie.
Nobility and Engineering:
Sorcière Académie: The club makes extensive use of Constructs dressed in pre-revolutionart Galtian Courtier's outfits... which is a problem because those things are highly flammable.
Castor steps forward and rises one hand to get their attention.
"Everybody, before you leave, here is a quick heads up:
The priority is to save lives and minimize damage. Unnecessary evacuation will be frowned upon."
"Sorcière Académie is a “very high class” – at least in their own eyes - club of spontaneous casters. They might prove difficult to talk to… Their head is a powerful summoner. They meet, dine, research and occasionally reside in there.
The building is large and imposing - eight story stone completely covered in ivy. Profligate space containing large garden surrounding it. It does not touch any adjacent buildings. It has a large basement with an excellent 'zoo' of abberations and oozes.
The founder claimed to be Galtian nobility, and the club believes this strongly. It is a lie. But they make extensive use of Constructs dressed in pre-revolutionary Galtian Courtier's outfits... and these things are highly flammable!"
"Save anybody you can inside the building! Do not antagonize the members! Be very careful, we probably will encounter escaped abberations and/or oozes! Cooperate! Cover each other and do not take unnecessary risks! No heroics or showing of! I would hate to lose any more colleagues!"
Then he turns to his familiar.
"Squeeky, recon. Exercise extreme caution! Report back! I will be coming along with the others." he says briskly.
"Yes, master, onmyway" Squeeky chirps and flies away.
Castor takes a moment to cast a simple defensive spell and follows the others out.
Before exiting the building, he makes sure he has all the stuff, he might need for the task ahead.
Before leaving, Daria casts Heightened Perception on herself-
Guards are police, ambulance, army and fire brigade all rolled into one. One of their jobs is to put out fires. In a city as packed and dry as this one a Fire can spread carefully - though fortunately wood is rare. All Guard squads are outfitted with equipment to help with this; usually a wand.
In terms of how well your team will be judged, the score will be calculated as...
Base=100
Each building evacuated -5
Each citizen dead -10
Each 1000gp of damage -1
Each charge of Wand of Quench used -1
Arcana
Sorcière Académie: A magical Club, in the old english sense of the word. Both a social group for a select few arcane practitioners, and a building within which they meet, dine, research and occasionally reside.
Sorcière Académie: Unlike many magical clubs this one is almost entirely Sorcerors, Summoners, a few Bards, and even fewer Arcanists.
Sorcière Académie: The club prides itself on only allowing those of 'superior blood' entry. Thus if you don't have an inborn gift for magic, you will not be welcome. This also means the club has a different raison d'être than most magical clubs. Rather than sharing spellbooks, the club acts as a way to hire spontaneous casters with particular powers - though it does also act to share magical resources and provide training.
Dungeoneering
Sorcière Académie: Has a large basement.
Sorcière Académie: Known to have an excellent 'zoo' of Abberations and Oozes.
Engineering
Sorcière Académie: A large and imposing eight story stone building, with profligate space surrounding it. That space contains a large garden. Does not touch any adjacent buildings.
Sorcière Académie: Covered in ivy.
Geography
Sorcière Académie: You know a short cut. If you cut through the Magowan tenement you can cut the distance from 2000ft to 1800ft.
History
Sorcière Académie: A club for 'spontaneous casters', with old Galtian decor and affectations. It claims strong links to pre-revolutionary Galt and Galtian nobility.
Sorcière Académie: the links to pre-revolutionary Galt are dubious at best.
Local
Sorcière Académie: A magical Club, in the old english sense of the word. Both a social group for a select few arcane practitioners, and a building within which they meet, dine, research and occasionally reside.
Sorcière Académie: A club for 'spontaneous casters', with old Galtian decor and affectations. Considers itself very high class.
Sorcière Académie: You know a short cut. If you cut through the Magowan tenement you can cut the distance from 2000ft to 1800ft.
Sorcière Académie: The head of the Academy is well known as a seriously powerful summoner.
Nature
Sorcière Académie: Surrounded by a very nice garden. Building is completely covered in ivy
Sorcière Académie: Ivy and garden are not doing well.
Nobility
Sorcière Académie: The founder claimed to be Galtian nobility, and the club believes this strongly.
Sorcière Académie: The club makes extensive use of Constructs dressed in pre-revolutionart Galtian Courtier's outfits.
Sorcière Académie: The founder's claims to Galtian nobility is questionable.
Sorcière Académie: The founder's claims to Galtian nobility is a flat out lie.
Nobility AND Engineering
Sorcière Académie: The club makes extensive use of Constructs dressed in pre-revolutionart Galtian Courtier's outfits... which is a problem because those things are highly flammable.
the Planes
Sorcière Académie: The head of the Academy is well known as a seriously powerful summoner, and takes a lot of jobs.
Sorcière Académie: The Academy has a private demi-plane.
Sorcière Académie: The Academy has a heap of private demi-planes.
After Castor finished his briefing, Daria tries to catch his attention but speaks loud enough that others may hear it, too:"Sir, if we cut through the Magowan tenement, we should arrive at the Acadêmie faster! Also, since time may be of essence, maybe we should try and get there...as fast as possible, rather than as a coherent unit", as she says that, hustling seemingly effortlessly beside her superior, she glances at Ser Thirus lagging behind already "Also, Sir, I heard the ivy covering the building is not doing too well...which could be a problem if the flames spread. And evacuation may not be necessary on a case-by-case basis, I've visited the Acadêmie once and saw that they employ a multitude of demiplanes, which should provide safer shelter than getting people past fire and possibly escaped oozes and aberations.
Since Daria is big on gathering knowledge, reading, all that stuff, I gather she may really have been visiting the Acadêmie at least once during her downtime checking it out(at least from what i gather from Arcana DC 20 and Local 10).
She probably felt the people were too elitist and pretentious(really, nobility? Right...) to even consider a more permanent membership but a single visit in the past to check it out is not totally absurd.
If so, does she remember any specific not-in-depth information from a previous visit? Such as a rough floor plan, locations of stairs or demiplanes, or someone mentioning a specific kind of creature in the menagerie- that kind of thing?
Lieutenant Spooky looks out of his window as he sips his coffee. It's quiet. Not truly quiet of course, not in a Guard house - you can still here the bustle of activity in the other rooms, and the screams of someone resisting arrest - but still quiet.
He sighs in resignation as a knock on his door signals the end of his peace, but slips his mask back over his face and turns around.
** spoiler omitted **