Grellik nods in acknowledgement that they are in on this plan and included in this operation as well. HE grabs some booze, he passes over the "W"ine and goes for the exotic T'ej--it seems fitting for the strange situation they find themselves in. His mood is a bit somber, remembering shat htey have lost, but he pushes it back--this is the time before the battle, when blood should be raised, and the spirit readied for battle. He toasts to the Shields, to the Sharks, and to showing this Grah'fek what happens when you start s@#@ in our territory!
He laughs and stomps with at Adriens song, letting out a a cry and raising his glass at his mention. When Rast sets the cigars, he contemplates trying for one, and when he sees Splotz, he decides...why not? He strides toward them, emphasizing his profile and size, hoping people will pay attention to him long enough for him to get close and grab one before the more agile of those interested snatch them
Cavell nods to Grellik and raises his empty mug, giving it a disappointed look when he feels how light it is.
"Well you know, all you monster races are the same. Eating babies and whatnot--when's the last baby you ate? Been awhile? Gettin' that itch?" He asks bitterly.
He sighs and stabs Trollsplitter into the table. "Tired of all this. Tired of having to think so much, tired of worrying. It was supposed to be simple, us versus them, what the f!+~ happened to the 'Sharks?"
Trissae poked her head over her cloak as Ozz sat beside her. She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder as he spoke. After he handed her his GrokaMor she stared hard at the little soldiers.
"You're right Ozz." she responded after his observation. She handed him back his figures, then leaned forward recovering the paper and ledger.
"The pieces are all turned not right, let's get to fixing that." She smiles to him, wiping her face clear. Then she stands gathering herself and her gear.
"Thanks Ozzy." offering him a hand up, before setting off to meet with the others. It wouldn't be hard for Ozz, or others, to see the refreshed vigor in Trissae's step - a rejuvenation Ozz could easily claim responsibility for.
---AT THE REST---
Grellik's large stature makes the room of cigar-wanting people stay frozen in place, not wanting to fight this huge Bogshark for his prize.
The tension grows higher when, apparently as they hadn't expected, the bugbear takes only a single of the cigars before replacing the tin and leaving.
Eyes fall once again to the tin of cigars, the prize not yet fully taken.
The T'ej, tastes unexpectedly un-mead like. While made from fermented honey, T'ej is unlike mead in that it is combined with many other unusual thinks, such as some kind of cream and spices. It tastes of honey for sure, but then also of milk and exotic spice from a land far, far away.
As previously seen, the scroll case gifted you by Grimgar with the evidence he had been collecting about Adrien's possible traitorous motives, contains several items. You take a moment to go over these.. (I'm assuming before you speak to Adrien?)
The items, and their details are as follows:
The papers all account for wildly different things. One seems to be a official, bureaucratic piece paperwork talking about the Mareschals of Iriaebor (A city distantly to the south, though not as far away as Amn). It's a copy of a public record of the houses standing within the Lord's Alliance (A tentative alliance between many free cities in the surrounding area. Silvermoon, the elven city to the east of the Bogshark's home, is one such city within this Alliance).
Another parchment is actually a sketch, a well done reproduction of what looks like a family portrait. Among the stern faced parents is a grinning young man, not even yet a full adult. Though younger and less road-worn, the sketch is good enough that you recognize features of Adrien both in the boy, and in the father.
A final parchment is a short note, handwritten. It reads:
'G.
I hope this letter finds you well. I appreciate the chance for work, I figured I moved too far away to get any of your Shark coinage these days, but I'm glad for any opportunity to be proven wrong.
I looked more into this scion of the Mareschals which has caught your interest. About 17 years ago, Adrien Mareschal went missing. I did a lot of digging, and it appears as if the boy has ghosted. Stranger yet, the Mareschals haven't offered any bounty or reward for the finding of him. I've asked around, and Iriaebor doesn't seem to acknowledge he even existed. There's your usual rumors, Oh a dragon ate him. Oh, his dad used him to experiment with necromancy. Oh, he ran away and became a Masked Lord... Nothing trust worthy. I think someone deliberately tried to bury information on the kid.
Why does he have your interest so? Let me know if you need anything else, if us gutter-kids don't stick together, who will?
Don't worry, the person I'm dictating all this to is trustworthy. Sorry for the stress, you paranoid son-of-a-b!@@%, but you know I'll never learn my letters myself. Not worth it. Stay in the shadows, friend.
-E'
This time, you notice an additional note on the back of this letter, scrawled in different handwriting.
'One last thing, I checked up on weapon master you wrote about. Gavrick Gon'Gonnet DOES work primarily out of Iriaebor, though he travels around from time to time. And yes, he does still train nobles in fighting with a parrying blade. Do you know him? You're really going to have to tell me what this is all about next time I'm in Yartar. Is that Cointoss place still is business? I wonder if they'd sell to a rich crook like me!
Lastly, the item at the bottom. It's a silver crest. It's a round shield, with an M and starburst mostly obscuring the design of a wagon wheel. You also saw this crest within the family portrait.
You now spend more time going over the paperwork talking of the Mareschals of Iriaebor and the Lords Alliance, and it paints an interesting picture. The Mareschals were in poor standing with the Lords Alliance, and had been for some time, up until 14 years ago, the time the family son went missing. A large debt owed to the Alliance was forgiven, but unlike other clear entries of coin or treasure distribution, the debt's payment is listed only as "Services Rendered". After this date, the legal paperwork clearly showed some amount of slight, but growing rank within the Lords Alliance.
Jasper, sitting at the table nearby, looks between Adrien and Ozz as they talk, his jaw occasionally opening to show a skeletal smile. Two of his bony fingers tap against the wooden table.
--AT THE REST--
Grellik pours whats left of his container into Adrien's mug, ignoring the jab. Bitter mood or no, he knows Adrien doesn't think that way about him. "Well, I suppose I could go for some frog caviar, but I think that's the extent of it." He looks at the scroll tucked in his belt before letting breathing out hard. "I don't think anything has happened to us, Adrien. These things were always there, under it all, festering. Put pressure on the vessel, and you see all the cracks. All of our choices and thoughts led to this, spurred on my the capture of your raiding team and Brundon's plot. For instance, I think there is something to what Grimgar said. I have been a part time Bog-Shark. My wanderings have kept me tied to my past. Lordless, but still a Knight of the Realm--a Ronin, I believe a man from Kara Tur once called me. A good word, I thought, and perhaps still do. But it kept me away, and perhaps that would have made the difference in turning Grimgar back. Or perhaps not, I do not know--I wrestle with it."
"But I know that simple is an elusive dream. From the child of a raider, to a squire, to a bandit, my life has never been simple. Though we have one more task, and we will have passed through this crucible, and we will know where we all stand. And Grimgar too, once we have completed your quest, will know. He cannot deny the truth then--there is no one more loyal to the Sharks than you, not me, not Trissae, no one. So, simple? No, nothing is ever simple, in the end, but we will be once more on solid ground. And we will have each other again."
Torea suddenly gets up from her seat, and swipes the tin. "Screw it. I'm taking one. Do something." she challenged, before tossing the tin back down and walking away.
Burke starts to raise from his seat. "Well, if-"
"HANDS OFF, FLESH SACK! URrkkkr!!" Splotz interrupts, leaping over a table to swipe the tin up in his froggy fingers before Burke can get to the chair with the tin.
Adrien looks taken aback by Grellik's words about him. He scratches his beard, thinking.
"You have a way with words... I guess you're right, it was there under the surface and everything just seemed better when I didn't know about it."
He takes a drink from the refilled mug. "And thank you, boss."
As Trissae says her goodbyes to some of the more familiar faces amid the Sheilds a tinge of regret nags at her. "How many of these people are putting on? Did the Waterbaron know? did she order it? if not her then who?" Her mind nibbled like a cautious fish.
She made her way out of the crowded main hall and into the side room that had been fashioned off for the Sharks, little more than a large walk-in closet but it was all the Tower had to spare at the moment.
Her eyes gazed at her family, the wear and tear of this adventure made even the ugliest of Troll squabbles seem trivial. Her eyes stopped on Caira, and a small flicker of arcane glitter danced across Trissae's cheeks. "She had to know.."
Trissae walks over to her bag and picks up her lute, slowly she strums a tune.
"Boys? would you step out a moment? Girl talk...." Her voice is honey sweet and her gaze is fixed on the frets of her lute which she's adjusting. She waits patiently for them to leave.
--At the Tower--
Ozz, Giant, and Frug (who was also given the Bogshark treatment) share a look before getting up and leaving Caira and Trissae alone together in the little room.
A small table rests against one wall, near a barred and shuttered window. Several empty chairs sit, taking up most of the space, and the sound of the storm can be heard outside even through the stone walls.
--- At the Tower---
Caira sits on a chair near the wall and little table. She rests her head on it, her face turned away from the door and toward the wall from even before Trissae came in, despondently maybe. Her mood is uncertain, but with her visible hand, she works her thumb again and again in a hard gesture, and each time a shower of warm sparks sprays a small portion of the underside of her little table. Black charring from repeated singes can be seen on the edge of the table, and it looks a far cry from being at risk of catching fire from her candle-starting magic.
As the boys exit, Caira slowly rolls her head to the other side, to face Trissae as she plays with her lute. "Hey, Trissae..." the halfling says, puffing her cheeks out as she sprays the table again with another small fountain of magical sparks. "... if any of the Shields are giving you s+&@ for home address, you let me know.
Her eyes seem unfocused, and her tone seems drained of any real feeling or emotion in them.
---At the Tower---
♪♪ Caira.. tell me a word, my little song-bird ♪♪ Caira, tell me a note, why he wanted to slit your throat.. Caira ♪♪ She strummed on the lute as she sang, then tuned it further.
"Sister I will be direct with you, I know you prefer it that way, since the failure of your planned heist there has been some scrutiny of your ambition. This was stoked further by Lord Frosty-pants himself, and by your own unfortunate activities when here in town. But don't worry, I'm not here to point fingers or cast blame... I know you- you're reckless, ambitious, unpredictable at times, but you're utterly loyal to the Sharks and a deep down sweet heart." She switches focus away from the lute and back to Caira.
"But I do have a question: Did you sell his Grok'mor? his little can of sand?" Triss leans in toward Caira, looking her dead in the eyes, moving perhaps uncomfortably close. Triss was a terrible judge when it came to picking up on liars so she was doubling down on the force of her own personality to coerce Caira's response.
---At the tower---
Caira seems confused at first, Trissae's question not fully processing. Her mouth makes a silent shape, the word 'Grok' said behind a face of confusion. Then, the can of sand registers.
"Oh, yeah. The mystery capsule! He told me to get some more coin since we were tight on funds at the moment. I sold an old pair of my boots, a couple hats, and I ended up throwing the capsule in as well. Man, some people really like to collect mysteries, and no one seems to know who made that or even how to get inside of it, haha!" She laughs a bit nervously at Trissae's closeness.
With her face still down on the table, she looks at Trissae with a frozen smile. "wuh... whyyy?" she draws this last out, confused and bemused with Trissae's actions and tone.
Grellik nods in the acknowledgement. "Truly, it did feel better, I will not deny it..." As his voice trails off, he claps Adrien on the shoulder, and stands. He says to Jasper, "Yes, I see you. You'll be able to acquit your master soon enough. I believe the readying is nearly done."
He begins to go off to ready himself for battle in quiet (checking his equipment, making sure everything is in order, and preparing his mind), then stops. He hands Adrien everything that Grimgar gave him. "I think this properly belongs to you, Adrien. Grimgar thought it was damning, though for the life of me, I cannot see why. We all have our pasts. In any case, I might recommend burning and burying that--its only the records of a dead man, and I am glad you are alive here with us." and he will go to a quieter corner to prepare.
He frowns and looks at the scroll case, then up at Grimgar's back as he walks away. "The hells is it?" He mutters, opening the scroll case and going through the contents.
After reading through, Adrien spends a moment staring at the family portrait, brow furrowed, then sighs and stands up. He pockets the crest, since it won't burn, and begins tossing papers into the tavern's hearth fire. The last sheet he just rolls up and dips into the flame, then walks over to Torea, turning the burning roll of paper in hand. "Need a light for that?" he offers, smirking as he watches the flame consuming the paper.
After she accepts or declines, he turns the paper slowly, then gives it a few slow shakes until the flames lick his fingers and he has to drop the last little corner, streaking to the floor with a trail of flame and ashes. He steps on it once the corner is ash too.
"We could both be dead soon," he makes rather intense eye-contact with Torea.
--and then coughs on the ash and smoke floating around his face, eyes watering a bit.
--- At the Tower ---
Trissae squinted and furled her nose. She couldn't make heads or tails if Caira understood exactly what had transpired.
"Sister..." She started distractedly, she wanted to be upset and to have someone to call out for this whole thing. But the more she looked at Caira the more she felt Caira was as much a victim if not more from what had happened. She snapped too, reality realizing she was staring.
"Sis, that little can was different... I know! I know, everyone has their Things but this was something else. You had to notice how he fawned over it, protected it, resorted to it after rough nights. I hadn't even understood what it really meant."
Triss's body language softens up and she pulls up a chair and sits beside Caira facing her.
"Ozz told me about it, Orcs, they don't care much for things... but they each have that one item, that one significant piece of material that they keep. It's not like...." She slides the lute onto the table next to Caira for her to take. "It's like if you take this lute from me, then I can't play music, so in a way you've taken a part of me. Well these items... they are a part of who they are, each one is their own - unique, sacred."
Trissae hesitates but then reaches across and places her hand on Caira's cheek.
"Earlier you were asking why, why Grimgar wanted to kill you and Adrien. I think this was the last straw, I think that he lost his nerve.. got caught looking for it, tortured, and blamed you guys for everything. He was part of the old guard and you young bloods represented a change in the Sharks that he couldn't take."
While brushing the halfling's hair Trissae tilted her head, looking out toward the storm through a window.
"I'm telling you this because I think you have a right to know. What I hope is that in time maybe it helps you to forgive him, the stubborn fool, he was a very fractured soul.." She pulls her hand away and looks back to Caira.
"That said, I'll understand though if that's a hard thing to do. Living in Menzoberranzan you get used to forgiving people for trying to kill you, but I hear you top siders don't look too kindly on it." She gives Caira a smile.
She stood and turned, stretching, then started her way toward the door.
"Keep the lute, I tuned it for you, It used to be my Grok'mor - but I couldn't think of anybody else I'd rather have it." She says with a smile but not looking back as she prepares to leave.
---AT THE TOWER---
Trissae looks at Caira, and it's clear that the halfling woman is damn well oblivious to the significance of anything that has transpired since and before the fiasco began.
When Trissae looks back, Caira is holding the lute in her hands uncertainly, like she might accidentally break it. She looks down at it, and then up to Trissae, as if this gesture alone speaks volumes more than any words the bard had spoken. Her hands begin to shake and she clutches it to her chest.
"He... He really wanted us dead... He REALLY wanted us dead!" She says it a couple of times, her face filling with emotion, her eyes open and unfocused before spilling over with tears that drip upon the lute. "I knew he didn't like me, but... ... After he helped me plan the last raid, I thought I finally did the right thing. That I did something that he didn't just think I screwed up..! But that was a lie wasn't it?"
She clutches the lute to her chest, trying to breathe through uncertain sobs. Her eyes drift off as her mind goes back and back through her past, reconsidering everything all over again from this new perspective.
---AT THE REST---
Torea allows Adrien to light her cigar, and takes a long inhale from it without coughing. She doesn't ask about the materials he just tossed into the hearth, and waits until her long, slow exhale had sent the fragrant smoke out from her lungs.
"Hilshind tells me that I already did die... Technically." she says, not yet looking at Adrien. "My heart stopped for some time. He can't really explain why I'm, not dead now." she looks down at her bare arm decorated with strange runes.
Then, she turns to face Adrien, and some ghost within her eyes makes him feel a chill. "My hearts just not in it I'm afraid. You know, when we first met, when I was to keep a watchful eye over you and your friends while fixing roads and emptying out old homes, you seemed the skirt chasing sort, a flippant man more interested in the pleasures of life than its pains."
She hands the cigar over to him, so he can smoke it with her. "It's reassuring these days to find someone who are what they seem." she offers a hint of a smile. She won't go off to find a bed with Adrien, but she does seem interested in sharing the warmth of a fireplace and a final cigar with him.
A boy knelt on the road between Silverymoon and his home of Yartar, generations ago. Blood and smoke stained his clothes from some recent trauma, though the blood wasn't his. He held himself in his arms, crouching and sobbing.
He stayed that way for many moments, letting his cries carry up through the early morning air. He had little doubts about what he would have to do now, and no doubts about what would happen because of the actions he knew he would have to take.
But there were no alternatives. The alternatives were all dead, and he had only two tokens left from them to give him even the ghost of a chance to succeed in his desperate plan.
It was just him now... The knights who had come to save his farm had already died in their duties, leaving him behind. Only him, a boy who had only two seasons of farm work to season his mettle. But there was no one else standing between him and Yartar, and the rest of the farms that dotted between him and the growing town. He knew that THEY would return, hungry for meat, and for blood. They cruel god demanded it, to send them cackling like lunatics ever onward for more flesh to devour.
His crying faltered, his tears running empty, and he knew that they would be back as the morning broke. So, he stood, and in his trembling hands lifted the two items left behind from the murdered knights, a sword short enough that he believed he could actually wield it, and a Shield of vibrant red.
He gripped them in his hands, steeled himself, and left the boy behind. He decided not to wait for them. He instead walked forward to meet them, now a man in his determination if not years.
Grellik will avail himself of any AC14 or greater armor that is available recheck his gear, and nod to his crew whem they are all ready, steeling himself for what he hopes is the final confrontation.
---AT THE REST---
Cavell sits next to her. "Maybe the old you died there. Now you can be whoever you want. Someone with scars, maybe an attitude," he winks and smiles, then accepts the cigar and takes a drag before handing it back, thinking. "I suppose my hearts not really in it either. If I die in this fight I just didn't want my last memory to be my brother trying to cut my throat."
He looks at the hearth where his past burns away. "You know, I left the thieves' guild because of this s%!#. There were a few good people in the guild, but most would kill you over some grudge or slight. But even after everything, the 'Sharks are still the only family I have. I don't care about Yartar. If that's all it was, I'd let your city burn. That's who I am. But Feng is dying."
He stands up and looks to her. "You're right, I'm a s@+%, but maybe I can do something good today."
---IN THE STORM---
Adrien clasps Ozz's shoulder. "How are you holding up? Ready for this?" He glances up at the storm.
-- At the tower (room) --
Trissae stopped as she heard the sniffles from Caira. She looked back and listened to what the Halfling had to say. She glanced down for a moment, saddened, then lifted her gaze again and walked to the table beside Caira.
"This had little to do with you Caira, and everything to do with Grimgar. You were doing exactly what good Bogsharks do- provide for the family." She said confidently. Slamming her hand down on the table she continued, "You are Caira the FIRELASH, Cinderspark of the bogs! You need validation from no one! You are Gods' damned amazing, and no one can take that from you!" She reached down and grasped Caira's shoulder.
"Sister, this is the Bogshark's finest hour - one that even our enemies can't help but cheer for us during. So let's make it a grand show, it's going to take all of us if we're going to do this. So pick yourself up, wipe away those tears... and let's burn it up!" Triss says with a gleeful smile then turns to stride out back into the hall.
-- At the tower (Hall) --
With a keening whistle Trissae summons the Sharks together, she gives each a knowing nod as they approach.
"Here's the plan folks: Ozz and I will return to the others and prepare for the conflict with Brundon and the storm. If this is all going to come together, and if things hit the fan, we need to find the boss and that's were you come in. Sightings outside the walls of strange occurances, and now a huge gaping hole in the Citadel, will be good places to start."
She took a deep breath then continued, "We're not alone in this, we have allies in the Counterwits, and the Shields are as invested as we are, so they may have helpful information."
She stepped back and lifted her bag, "This is it crew, let's show Yartar and the world what the Bogsharks are really capable of." With a nod she turns to Ozz and motions for them to roll out.
-- In the Storm --
Storm rains beat down on the pair's shoulders and their packs were heavy with the goods they'd procured from the Shield tower. Triss said nothing the entire hike back, she strode not somber but diligently. The events at the tower replayed in her mind, subtle details relived, and a growing resolve.
As they approached She rose a hand to hail the other crew, and then drew back her hood letting the rain splash against her face.
"Boys! we return bearing gifts!" She called out with a smile while they walked up. She first stepped to Grellik, "Boss." she said in a pretend formal tone then chuckled.
"Ozz, Toss it here!" Triss called to Ozz, and as he tossed the huge sheathed sword Triss caught it with an Oomph. She turned and presented it to Grellik with a smile.
"Grellik, as a knight of the bogs it is only befitting that you have a knightly sword! Behold Oathguardian, Greatsword of Desperation. A blade fit for only the most worthy, and it has chosen you." She bows her head and lifts the blade for him to receive it.
After he takes it, she turned and walked to Adrien with a coy smile.
"So, they were all out of murderlust swords and you don't have a third arm to spare anyway so! I figured I would get you something much more practical....." She reached into her cloak and drew out two scroll cases. Reaching across she tucked one into his belt, giving him a playful eyebrow bob as she did so.
"A scroll of Counter spell and dispel, I'm sure you'd like to have some control over any magical shenanigans that might find you as their target." She says cheerily, then walks back to OZz with the bags.
"We've also got some additional gear in case we need to climb or break in" List.
She chuckled and flicked back her hair to get the wet matted mass out of her face causing a long flowing arc to wick away.
"Well, I hope your en devours were as fruitful." She says standing proudly.
"... Y.. yeah!" Caira said hesitantly at first, as Trissae tries to talk some energy back into her. "Yeah!" she says again, and then once more, hopping from her seat and spraying sparks from her finger tips will a loud "YEAH!!!"
When Trissae Rally's Ozz to head to the lightning struck house, Caira speaks up. "And I'M coming with!" Not able to be dissuaded and assuring any opposition of her coming with that she has PLENTY of fire left, still, to help, Caira joins the fight.
Ozz shows up with Caira and Trissae, with a cloak of elven make across his shoulders. He gives a suspicious eye to a few of the Shields traveling along with his companions are they meet together.
He helps Trissae hand out the new items, passing the large sword to her so she can present it to Grimgar. Slightly puzzled, he ponders in a murmur, "... When was it named?"
As the two groups meet back up and exchange equipment and to ready themselves before battle, they are able to see what they are in-store for.
Lightning crashes overheard, striking out from a quickening spiral of clouds above. Small explosions of fire boom out from within the maelstrom above, the warmth of the fiery flashes occasionally illuminating Yartar in a red glow. The lightning's strikes seem to mostly be striking nearby. Some bolts intercept the tower or the Happy Hall, and some still strike too far out in the city, but each of the bolts coming from the maelstrom seem to be centered around a single, walled building nearby.
A few blocks away is a wealthy estate. Tall walls surround an enclosed yard, emerging from and connecting back to the walls of the building in a closed loop. The building looks to be three stories tall, with a set of double doors standing closed beneath shuttered windows. A small front yard sticks out before these double doors, grass on either side of a stone walkway, and behind an iron gate. That gate will have to be opened or the wall circumvented, as well as the double doors, to gain entry within. Lightning strikes into the roof of the building, sending destroyed roofing tiles out into the yard and streets.
Encircling this walled building is a group of shambling, CHANGED people. Former Shields, citizens of Yartar, and traveling merchants shamble dazed and energized by elemental corruption in a loose circle of defends around the building. At first, they seem incidental, as if there just happened to be some dazers in the street, except after a moment of observing it's easy to note how more, and more, and more dazers appear to be taking defensive positions around the building, to meet a threat.
It isn't just dazers, but a couple of full elemental have also appeared. One is a being of pure fire burning a nearby home across the street from the lightning struck house, a face crackling out from the flames. Then, a being of chill frost, a walking figure of ice within a thin cloud of cold, stomps in a pacing line back and forth before the front gate, it's form clearly taller than even Grellik when standing
"Well, so much for walking up and knocking," Cavell says as he surveys the scene. He then slips away from the group before anyone can say much, and heads down the street, sticking to the shadows of the buildings.
Once he's a fair distance separated from the group, and preferably behind cover, he'll tear two thin strips of cloth from his tunic, soak them in oil (from his oil flask), and wrap them around the heads of two arrows. Light them with his tinderbox and loose them at the ice golem, one after the other.
Then shout, "Hey you!" and readies his movement to run down the street, away from the group, if the golem starts to move towards him.
The group looks onward at the slowly growing defenses of the lightning struck house, and ponder their plan of attack.
"There's not enough of us to win a fight like this head on, and if we break on through the front, they'll just come in behind us!"
She thinks for a moment. "We secure the yard. We, the Shields. Every last soul out there is some unlucky citizen of Yartar, or our guest here. We need to treat them with the proper care. No offense to you Sharks, but something tells me your hearts are set more on finding the one who controls the storm and stopping them, then treating our unruly population with a risky amount of caution."
She turns to Captain Wen. "Sir, we hold the yard. We storm the gates, take the yard, and turn to hold the gates, keeping all of them away from the front doors. The Bogsharks go inside, we use the walls of the yard to provide us the terrain advantage."
With one scarred hand on a scarred cheek, Wen stares at the sight of the manor and listens to his Sargent. Then, deliberately, he turns to face Grellik to see if the two forces are in agreement.
Trissae listens in from the side, staring forward. She ponders to herself how many innocent lives are lost to this storm, and how many more before it breaks.
She tilts her head without breaking her gaze, listening for Grellick's response. Tightly gripped between her thumb and forefinger is the ruby given to her from Feng, which she nervously thumbs over.
--In the Storm--
Greillik waves as Trissae and the others approach. When she hands him the sword, Grellik is surprised, but smiling. He pulls the sword a few inches out of the scabbard. "Oh? And a fine blade it is! A most fitting tool for our triumphal battle. My thanks once again, Trissae. he slams the blade back in, releasing the strap for his sword as he swings the new scabbard behind his back. he affixes the old blade to his saddle bags and hold his hands out at his sides in a 'how do I look?' sort of pose.
After they survey the scene at the site, he says, "Sargent Silvers, you have certainly gotten to know us quite well. I fear you will be a fearsome opponent in the future. Our skills are indeed more suited to striking at the heart of the beast, as it were. We will leave this work to you."
He dismounts and cries out. Alright, Sharks! we're going in! We'll take that mansion and drive our teeth right into Brundon's neck!" Up goes the shark scarf, though he remains unmasked--no point in that now. "For our Comrades!" he draws his sword. "For the Boss! Bloody hell, for Yartar too! Bog Sharks, move out!" He pumps his sword in the air and begins to advance on the forces arrayed in the courtyard.
Adrien launches two arrmows at the ice elemental from the cover of a nearby alleyway.
The arrows are only visible to the rest of the group from anyone paying more attention to the landscape rather than Grellik's final orders and battle cry, but the reaction of the elemental will be visible to everyone as they move out in that direction.
"FOR MORNAK!" Ozz bellows, oni-mask on. He has his axe and shield in hand, and charges down the road, on foot, along side the his Bogshark family and the Shields who hanged the one he cried out for, united in purpose for the first time.
(Dashing to move 60 feet. Now at -140 feet from map edge.)
Cavell jogs back 10 feet then waits to see if the Elemental (or any of the dazers) are chasing or not, still shouting. "Hey! Want some more arrows, come on down!"
"For the SHARKS!!!!" Trissae uses her prodigious singing voice to belt out this roar, leaning forward in an aggressive gesture.
Afterward she tosses the ruby up and catches it tight before calling out to Grellick, "Captain, here..." She then tosses the ruby over to him, "Something tells me I'm not going to have a chance to use it this battle, and if you're stuck dancing with a fire elemental, you better have something to help out." She chuckles, then turns and runs to catch up with Ozz
"Ozz! Crack'em in the head!"