"Why don't we reverse that; it would probably be best if they didn't see a guard uniform. And thank you."
"I doubt they'll believe that we're supposed to be here but we can try if that's what you mean."
Fiordelise takes a deep breath, Okay then - Byron, back me up?
Byron nods. "I still have catalysts prepared for five more bombs so I should be able to help when there's unpleasantness though I'll have to be careful to avoid burning evidence."
It occurs to you that the undine tried to escape through this door earlier, and it was locked. To your surprise, after a muffled curse and a faint jingling of keys, the door opens from the outside. A shabbily dressed ifrit with a twitchy left eye frowns at you and says, "And who the volc are you?"
Byron tries his best to stay moderately out of sight.
Osric nods ax Fiordelise lays out her plan. "Sound thinking."
As he and Odebie take their prisoners behind some of the shelves, he raises his blade. "Now, no funny business, or we'll just start up again."
Frowning into the neutral space, Odebie shifts his eyes to Osric for a moment before joining him.
Fiordelise tries her best to look subservient. "mi'lady is away for the moment, can I help you?"
The ifrit's tic intensifies; the entire left side of his face twitches as he snarls, "Sono cazzate! " Looking over his shoulder, he yells, ""Entrare! Entrare!"
Two hulking oreads carrying bared swords stride in a moment later, flanking the ifrit. "Try again. Who the volc are you?"
It looks to Byron like it's time to take advantage of the element of surprise. Trusting in Fiordelise's resistance to fire to protect her from the splash, he mixes and tosses another bomb at one of the oreads from his nearby hiding place.
Fiordelise was about to try and say something, but as an explosion tears through the air around her she realises it's too late for that now.
Byron tosses another bomb at his previous target, hoping to quickly drop one of the two oreads.
"Silima! Uzoba bashise isakhiwo phansi!" Odebie rumbles, before turning to the shop owner.
"Stay."
Hefting his hammer, he runs around the corner and makes for the first of the oreads.
Osric glances at their captives and hurries towards the conflict.
"Why do they always make it hard."
Byron's first bomb hits the oread on the right square in the chest, leaving blisters all along his arms.
To their credits, the thugs react quickly. Squinting in the direction the bomb came from, the twitchy ifrit screams, "Behind that tree! Kill him!" The oread, with a bellow of pain and anger, charges at Byron and slashes him with an overhand blow.
The two remaining thugs both attack Fiordelise. The ifrit handles his sword inexpertly, and misses by a wide margin. His attack proves a dangerous distraction, however, as the oread slices her shoulder from behind
Fiordelise thrusts her sword at the larger threat, the second oread. She connects, sinking her blade halfway into his chest. He stumbles onto his knees, snarling, but still holds onto his sword.
In responseto the oread's attack, Byron steps back and looses another bomb at his attacker. The bomb shatters directly in his face; the smell of scorched hair fills the steamy warehouse as the oreads falls.
Odebie and Osric sprint down the main aisle and turn the corner, to see a bleeding Fiordelise being threatened by an ifrit and a large oread.
Link to map.
---
Initiative Order
Enemies 18
Odebie 16
Osric 10
Byron 5
Fiordelise 1
Muttering curses and shaking his head wildly, the ifrit turns his back and runs out of the warehouse.
Fiordelise scowls and launches herself at the Oread
Byron grimaces at the pain of his wound, but he sees that the other oread is still threatening Fiordelise. He notes how low his supply of bombs is getting, but figures one more is justified at present.
Osric watches as Fiordelise and Byron down one Oread. They should be capable of taking out the other one.
He runs after the ifrit as fast as possible. Sky! I'm probably going to lose him in the steam.
He calls out after the ifrit, "Sono più veloce di te. Io ti prenderò."
Leoni's calm, reasoned baritone whispers from Osric's right. "He is not imaginative, detective. Point your sword straight ahead and you shall find him waiting."
Turning towards the still standing Oread, Odebie hefts his hammer and runs up, putting all of his momentum into a single swing.
"Very well." Trusting the Mister, Osric thrusts forward through the steam.
The remaining Oread twists his body in a powerful blow meant to finish Fiordelise, but Odebie's hammer spoils his aim, leaving both oreads off-balance. Byron's bomb explodes on the oread's back, and he succumbs to his injuries.
Through great luck--or a vague blessing from dead Sky--Osric feels his blade go through flesh and stop at bone. The sword is wrenched from his fingers, and there is a sound like a sack of stale bread as the ifrit collapses.
Fiordelise follows after Osric, in time to hear the meaty thump of the ifrit hitting the ground.
Seeing the battle is over, Byron drinks from one of his many vials.
His nasty wound closes up somewhat.
Fiordelise lets the flame from the bomb wash over here and cleanse her wounds, rushing out to aid Osric.
She will then check the fallen thugs, see if any of them are still breathing enough to question.
A brief examination of the defeated thugs reveals that the ifrit seems to be a better condition than the oreads, both of whom are covered in blisters and breathing raggedly from scorched lungs.
"I don't suppose any of you can wake him up?"
"I never really learned conventional healing... I can do a bit by magic"
Byron shrugs slightly. "Haven't gotten around to studying anatomy or biology yet there's so much of alchemy and mechanics to master first and my extracts only work on myself and besides that was my only healing one."
Efficient and mostly competent, Osric performs some basic binding on the ifrit's bleeding midsection, then slaps him soundly in the face.
After a gurgle of surprise, the ifrit croaks, "What the volc...?" and blinks blearily around him.
"Welcome back to the world of the living. We have some questions for you."
Osric retrieves his blade as they drag the unconscious ifrit back into the shop.
After a quick bout of first aid, he looks at the shocked elen. "This lady was just doing a fairly good job of not telling us when you would be showing up. Now, will you do a better job of telling us where you came from?"
Hands up, he wheezes, "I soldi goes to a dead drop, okay? I don't know nothin' more than that!"
"Do your instructions also come by way of a dead drop?" Osric is certain that this scum is probably being truthful and will not be able to give much more information.
"Yeah, you got it capo. I'm just another piece on the board, si? I show you where-"
Suddenly, there is a woman's scream from the south end of the warehouse.
Byron looks expectantly at the other elen around him. "Probably some of you should go I'll keep an eye on him he'll know not to run away from me." He taps one of his bomb vials suggestively.
Odebie checks on the scream, and finds:
The undine is on top of Toselli. His hands are wrapped around a stiletto that is buried hilt-deep into her shoulder. A small pool of blood is spreading around her, staining the wooden floor. The undine grins at you. "She was trying to sneak away! Stopped her!" His eyes hold a tragic vacancy, as though he is unaware that he is stabbing a fellow elen.
With a practiced calm and a gesture from his hammer, Odebie coaxes the undine off of Toselli. The owner of Fiore's Flowers groans in pain, but seems lucid as she tears a few strips of cloth from her dress to bind her own wound.
Fiordelise dashes after Odebie, "Perhaps we should keep all the captives together but endeavour not to leave them alone again?"
Fiordelise stares down at Toselli, "Was the blade poisoned?"
"You also stabbed her! Does anyone here have healing magic?"
Between the four of you, you manage to wrangle the five captives together. The flower girl is huddled in a corner, hugging her knees.
Toselli glances up at Fiordelise, eyes glazed with pain and blood loss. "No poison, but clean blades often kill as effectively as dirty ones." She seems to have lost the angry opposition she showed all of you earlier.
Fiordelise's hand twitches a little as she almost itches to use her magic on the Toselli, despite her occasional use of violence she doesn't like to see anyone in pain.
That said Byron, and herself, are also wounded and she can't conjure enough power out to fix everybody, and the days trials don't seem to be done yet.
"So, you were about to tell us where this dead drop is, yes?"
Byron nods in agreement to Fiordelise's question, but has no words to add at present.
"Hopefully we will have no further interruptions. Osric is quiet frustrated with them at this point. "I don't think anyone else will be trying to resist arrest at this point.
While he waits for the answer to Fiordelise's question; Odebie's eyes dart back in forth rapidly. This was going to be difficult to explain to his superiors.
The ifrit's eye twitches more violently than ever as he takes in the scene of bruised and bloodied elen.
"You bet, capa! It's deep in the Steams, almost right next to the bridge." He glances at Odebie, Byron, and Osric. "Not sure your amici can handle the heat though."
"So when are you next to visit your drop, after finishing here?"
His manner is fawning and submissive, a thin veneer covering the angry, violent elen you saw during the fight. "Si, si. I was gonna get a nice payment for this stuff, and there's hell to pay for late drops."