Erryll looks at Kita, wondering if she's okay ...
"You know, just ahead, there's like a shred of civilization, I think I thought you might be a touch enthusiastic about that ... or do I need to apologize again?"
As they quick-marched up the road, Kita's headache only got worse. She withdrew into herself, just trying to keep up the pace. She didn't notice the "inn" ahead until Erryll spoke up.
Summoning a smile, she said, "Oh, did you apologize before? Must have missed it." She hooked her arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment, so he knew she wasn't mad. "Let's get in there, and get warm and dry. I'm chilled through."
As they quick-marched up the road, Kita's headache only got worse. She withdrew into herself, just trying to keep up the pace. She didn't notice the "inn" ahead until Erryll spoke up.
Summoning a smile, she said, "Oh, did you apologize before? Must have missed it." She hooked her arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment, so he knew she wasn't mad. "Let's get in there, and get warm and dry. I'm chilled through."
Ready for food, warmth, dryness, and a couple drinks, the daring duo entered the Inn.
As they began to move again, she sidled up to Rosaleen. "Any chance you speak Iosan? Erryll's been teaching me, but it ain't an easy language. He calls me "cara mia", but I'm pretty sure cara means face. That's weird, right? But languages got all sorts of weird expressions. Maybe he's calling be pretty? Got any ideas?"
Rosaleen slowly shook her head, ”Sorry. I’m more into formulae rather than languages. I learn just enough words in a particular language to get myself into trouble. It’s mainly my mother tongue and what’s commonly spoken around me that seems to stick.” The woman gave Kita’s other questions some serious thought, ”His tone doesn’t suggest anything bad. You are pretty so your logic seems sound. It seems like a term of endearment.”
The appearance of a large barn-like building in the distance is a welcome sight to the alchemist. She looked forward to being dry and warm more than anything. Hopefully the food would be better here than the last place.
”His tone doesn’t suggest anything bad. You are pretty so your logic seems sound. It seems like a term of endearment.”
Kita released her characteristic snort of laughter. "Well you're either kind, or unobservant. Or you been hangin' around with some truly ugly folk." She lifted her hat, showing Rosaleen the horrible burn scar that covered most of her forehead. "Ahnkeg, in the Reaches. Got ahold of me, responsible for another scar," she started to pull up her shirt, then caught herself, "I'll show you another time. Anyhow, been called a lot of things, pretty ain't never been one of them." She looked over at Erryll, and said, "He's biased, though, so who knows."
Turning back to Rosaleen, she asked, "So, tell me more about this fella you followed out here. Do we need to track him down and cut his bits off?"
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The party enters the large building and is greeted with the bright lights, warmth, and delicious smells of a busy Inn. The place looks to be full as most of the tables are occupied. Even so, a youthful maid spots you and heads in your direction.
"Ah now, look what the cat's dragged in! Come on, come on, let's get you to the fireplace ta warm up and dry yerselves. Make way...make way...oi, you...Oliver! Move out of the way. Gots some cold and wet visitors here. Ah now, there you are, nice and warm! Let me get you somthin ta warm yer innards as well!"
The young lady gets you all settled right in front of the fireplace as she hurries off into a back room. Shortly thereafter an older man arrives carrying a tray with large crockware mugs of some steaming liquid.
"Her you are...something to warm you up while we get your dinner ready."
He sets the platter down and hurries off once again. The mugs, once investigated, holds hot tea with what seems to be a liberal dash of whiskey!
Kita breathed a long sigh of relief as the wave of warmth washed over her. "Menoth be praised for small mercies," she sighed. She settled onto the bench and blew on the mug, content to warm her hands for a moment and let it cool.
Nevitash settles down and takes a big swig from the strong warm tea. "That hits the spot."
Blessings be upon this place, proclaims the priest formally in a booming voice. Truly it is said, 'In the hotel of decisions the guests sleep well', the priest says, reciting an ancient proverb.
He finds a place where he can stack his pack and shield out of the way. He bows his head and mutters a prayer of Benediction and then a prayer of gratitude for hospitality. Obligations to Menoth met, he seems happy to find warmth near the fire, steaming as his clothing and armour start to dry.
Kita released her characteristic snort of laughter. "Well you're either kind, or unobservant. Or you been hangin' around with some truly ugly folk." She lifted her hat, showing Rosaleen the horrible burn scar that covered most of her forehead. "Ahnkeg, in the Reaches. Got ahold of me, responsible for another scar," she started to pull up her shirt, then caught herself, "I'll show you another time. Anyhow, been called a lot of things, pretty ain't never been one of them." She looked over at Erryll, and said, "He's biased, though, so who knows."
Turning back to Rosaleen, she asked, "So, tell me more about this fella you followed out here. Do we need to track him down and cut his bits off?"
Rosaleen gave Kita a wry smile, "I've learned over the years that people can often change what they look like but have a harder time changing who they are. You've got a good heart so I think I'm quite observant." She looked at Kita's scar with great interest, "I have my fair share of scars too that can't be seen. Chemical burns...hazards of my line of work. I see scars as being well-earned and make someone more interesting."
Her smile faded at the mention of Malek, "That would be my mentor, Malek. He taught me a lot of what I know and we worked well together. It didn't hurt that he was handsome and dashing. Things with him were always exciting. And then one day he was just gone. I looked for him but I couldn't find any trace of him. That's one of the things he's good at, not being found and hiding in plain sight. I'm still trying to decide if his bits need cutting off. I guess I won't know until I see him again."
Rosaleen sank down into a chair near the warm fire and turned her body towards it, holding out her hands to warm them. "Now this is more like it."
She reached for one of the mugs when they were delivered and drank deeply. She could feel the warmth spread throughout her body and she gave a contented sigh. "I can't wait to see what they bring us to eat."
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"I've learned over the years that people can often change what they look like but have a harder time changing who they are."
Agnar's hands started twitching as his instinct to check his guns frequently started to conflict with a conscious thought that persistently taking out and field stripping fire-arms might not be as well received in civilian company as it was in his former life.
He was deep in re-writing this long-formed habit when something Rosaleen said naggled at the back of his head. Some common thought experiment that the upper ranks played. At first it alluded him until he snapped his fingers in remembrance.
"Are you saying you know, Rosaleen? You know how hard it is to change on the inside?" He grinned, anticipating the telling of the joke, and the chance to evaluate who she was by her answer. "Do you know what...
...can change the nature of a man"
He kept his smile.
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As you all settle in, the young woman and an even younger lad appear with a tray ladened with steaming food. Two chickens, warm black bread with a crock of fresh butter, bowls of some kind of fish soup and a variety of steamed vegetables crowd the table as the food is removed from the serving platters. The lad hustles off back to the kitchen while the young lady looks things over with a critical eye before turning back to the group with a wide smile.
"There you are...something to stick to yer innards. If'n you be needing anything else, just let us know!"
And with a departing smile, she leaves to tend to some of the other patrons.
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As you all settle in, the young woman and an even younger lad appear with a tray ladened with steaming food. Two chickens, warm black bread with a crock of fresh butter, bowls of some kind of fish soup and a variety of steamed vegetables crowd the table as the food is removed from the serving platters. The lad hustles off back to the kitchen while the young lady looks things over with a critical eye before turning back to the group with a wide smile.
"There you are...something to stick to yer innards. If'n you be needing anything else, just let us know!"
And with a departing smile, she leaves to tend to some of the other patrons.
The sun was not quite getting real low just yet, and the rune-glow came much more softly and gently ... as items began to move around the table. Bread aligned itself on a plate, several slices of vegetable layered themselveson the bread, and a carving knife hovered into Erryll's hand
I guess my subconscious is pretty hungry"Apologies ... this happens sometimes, it has since I was a child. At least my parents didn't have to decide if I would be a carpenter or a constable. Can I make anyone else a snadwich?"
As you all settle in, the young woman and an even younger lad appear with a tray ladened with steaming food. Two chickens, warm black bread with a crock of fresh butter, bowls of some kind of fish soup and a variety of steamed vegetables crowd the table as the food is removed from the serving platters. The lad hustles off back to the kitchen while the young lady looks things over with a critical eye before turning back to the group with a wide smile.
"There you are...something to stick to yer innards. If'n you be needing anything else, just let us know!"
And with a departing smile, she leaves to tend to some of the other patrons.
A noble feast... my thanks to you, he says bowing before sitting to eat.
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Kita grinned and accepted a sandwich. She watched Erryll stack it high with vegetables, but he knew to leave the chicken off. She bit into it with a happy sigh. "If the way to a lover's heart is through the stomach, then the staff here must be very well-loved."
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"Are you saying you know, Rosaleen? You know how hard it is to change on the inside?" He grinned, anticipating the telling of the joke, and the chance to evaluate who she was by her answer. "Do you know what...
...can change the nature of a man"
He kept his smile.
Rosaleen thoughtfully regarded Agnar, part of her believing that he was expecting a more profound answer than she was prepared to give. "One cannot change unless they truly want to change. If one does not desire to change, who they are bleeds into who they pretend to be regardless of how they may disguise their appearance. So I guess to answer your questions, only we can change ourselves. Yes, we are influenced by what happens to us but it is us that ultimately choose how it affects us."
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Rosaleen began to tuck into her bowl of hearty soup when items began moving themselves around the table. She looked up to see a knife floating into Erryll's hand. She smiled and murmured, "Fascinating," before spooning a large piece of white fish into her mouth. Once she'd swallowed as added, "I'd take a sandwich."
At Rosaleens quip, Mohammed gives a grunt... that could almost be a laugh.
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Agnar takes a good-sized helping of all available at table. He has learned to cope with life living lean, and he's learned that part of that is to feast when feasting is available.
"Heh, so your answer is 'one's self', is it?" Agnar smiles at the answer. "Well said Rosaleen, well said!" He chews thoughtfully. "Of course that is the right answer, but the implication in the question is -which- particular impetus might be best used to moving one's self to desire change. Most usual answers revolve around the stalwarts of Greed, Hatred, Retribution, Love, Duty, Honor...those old hats.
Myself? I've always had a leaning towards...Curiosity!"
He smiles and bends to his soup.
Agnar takes a good-sized helping of all available at table. He has learned to cope with life living lean, and he's learned that part of that is to feast when feasting is available.
"Heh, so your answer is 'one's self', is it?" Agnar smiles at the answer. "Well said Rosaleen, well said!" He chews thoughtfully. "Of course that is the right answer, but the implication in the question is -which- particular impetus might be best used to moving one's self to desire change. Most usual answers revolve around the stalwarts of Greed, Hatred, Retribution, Love, Duty, Honor...those old hats.
Myself? I've always had a leaning towards...Curiosity!"
He smiles and bends to his soup.
Rosaleen's eyes light up at Agnar's last word, "Now you're speaking my language. There is no end of things to learn when you're curious enough to search for answers."
Rosaleen's eyes light up at Agnar's last word, "Now you're speaking my language. There is no end of things to learn when you're curious enough to search for answers."Agnar takes a good-sized helping of all available at table. He has learned to cope with life living lean, and he's learned that part of that is to feast when feasting is available.
"Heh, so your answer is 'one's self', is it?" Agnar smiles at the answer. "Well said Rosaleen, well said!" He chews thoughtfully. "Of course that is the right answer, but the implication in the question is -which- particular impetus might be best used to moving one's self to desire change. Most usual answers revolve around the stalwarts of Greed, Hatred, Retribution, Love, Duty, Honor...those old hats.
Myself? I've always had a leaning towards...Curiosity!"
He smiles and bends to his soup.
After making a sandwich for Kita, Erryll gets busy making one for Rosaleen as well. He thinly slices some chicken, selects several vegetables, and then with a soft glow in his eyes, a conjured seasoning falls evenly across his masterpiece. Slicing on the bias, Erryll then floats the plate across the table to the young woman, "With my compliments Lady di Henryn." The young elf smiles, "The flavour should have just a hint of Ios to it: the spice blend I conjured for you. I hope you like it."
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Rosaleen's eyes light up at Agnar's last word, "Now you're speaking my language. There is no end of things to learn when you're curious enough to search for answers."
"Exactly!" Agnar exclaims while motioning emphatically with his spoon. "There are so -many- things that we just take for granted. And why? Because we are told them! But how do we know such a thing is so. Or, for that matter, that the person telling us has any idea about anything more than this wood table here!" Agnar raps his spoon on the table to emphasize his point.
"And once we start to question Why, then a whole host of questions sprout up! How? When? Whom? I've begun to think that questions are like weeds; as soon as one sprouts up, then there are five more on its heels!
We are told to march in a straight line. And why? Because that is best, they say! But what if we didn't? What if we all did the rumba wherever we went? Maybe it wouldn't work out. Maybe. But how does one know unless one tries?"
He motions his spoon at the whole room, to take in life, the universe, and everything. "I dare say I would rather die doing something unknown and risky than live doing something known and safe. Ah, but then wouldn't we all? That is why we are here, is it not?"
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As the evening wears on, and the people slowly depart the Inn's taproom, the group soon finds themselves the last customers. The young woman approaches them, a smile on her face.
"Well I do hope that everything was to your satisfaction. Will you be needing a place to sleep? We only have a dormitory, but the beds are all warm and clean. Dinner and drinks will cost ye 7 (sp) Shields each. A bed in the common room goes for another 5 Shields (sp) each, but I'll tell you what. I will give you it all for a Crown (gp) each! Whatcha say?"
Erryll smiles, "The food was wonderful, thank you so much. A crown it is!" He hands the woman the coin.
"That sounds like a reasonable deal." Nevitash says as he hands in his crown as well.
After making a sandwich for Kita, Erryll gets busy making one for Rosaleen as well. He thinly slices some chicken, selects several vegetables, and then with a soft glow in his eyes, a conjured seasoning falls evenly across his masterpiece. Slicing on the bias, Erryll then floats the plate across the table to the young woman, "With my compliments Lady di Henryn." The young elf smiles, "The flavour should have just a hint of Ios to it: the spice blend I conjured for you. I hope you like it."
Rosaleen holds out her hands to accept the floating plate, "It's been awhile since a meal was so entertaining." She holds up one half of the sandwich like one would a wine glass to toast, "And I appreciate someone who knows how to properly cut a sandwich." She takes a large bite and chews thoughtfully as she nods her appreciation, "You conjured this flavour? Impressive. It's delicious. I've never been to Ios so I'll take your word for how it's supposed to taste. Any chance you've tasted food from Llael? It's been awhile since I've had a taste of home."
He motions his spoon at the whole room, to take in life, the universe, and everything. "I dare say I would rather die doing something unknown and risky than live doing something known and safe. Ah, but then wouldn't we all? That is why we are here, is it not?"
Rosaleen took another bite of sandwich before giving a small chuckle, "I prefer to question nature and uncover its secrets rather than questioning the whys of human behaviour so I'll leave that to you. Either way, it was well said, Agnar."
A bed in the common room goes for another 5 Shields (sp) each, but I'll tell you what. I will give you it all for a Crown (gp) each! Whatcha say?"
Rosaleen couldn't help but notice Kita shift uncomfortably in her seat with the mention of the cost for a night. She knew what it was like to struggle for basic comforts and was fortunate enough that she was currently in an ok place at the moment that she could pay it forward. She dug out two coins and handed them over to the young woman, "This is for me and her," she said motioning at Kita. "You've taken such good care of us this evening but I never caught your name. My name is Rosaleen. My compliments to whoever made our food."
Kita was surprised, but grateful, by Rosaleen's generosity. "Thanks," she whispered, "I'll get it next time." Next time I have money. Which better be soon.
Kita was absurdly grateful to be able to crawl into the warm, clean, dry bed. Her head was buzzing pleasantly, she wasn't hungry, and she was exhausted. Having learned to sleep through snoring long ago, she fell asleep almost as soon as she was settled.
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After a comfortable night's sleep, the group wakes and reassembles in the tavern for a quick breakfast. Eggs, ham, and hot tea and coffee greet the travelers as they enter the main room.
As they are finishing up, a commotion can be heard coming from outside of the Inn. Several men seem to be arguing and disappearing out behind the building.
Lily, as you have learned is the name of your hostess, looks out the door and returns with a frown.
You 'hear' a very faint voice...you think might be female, calling for help!
Nevitash will rise and quickly make his way out of the inn looking to see who is calling out. As he rises with a look of concern he says, "Someone is calling for help!"
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As Nevitash moves out of the Inn, you all look around and at each other...none of you has heard anyone calling for help...or really any noise now that the people out front have moved behind the Inn.
The voice seems to be slightly stronger out here, but still only just above a whisper.
"Make them stop...Help, Help!! They are taking me apart!!"
Kita cocked an ear but could hear nothing. Curious, she bounced to her feet and followed Nevitash out the front door.
Erryll gets up and races after Nevitash, then pauses.
Runes flare up around his eyes and temples as he reaches out with his other senses.
SENSE CORTEX
Divination cantrip
Casting Time: 1 bonus action
Range: Self
Components: V, S
Duration: Concentration, up to 1 minute
When you cast this spell, you immediately become aware
of the presence and grade of each active mechanikal cortex
within your control range, and you know whether each of
these cortexes is protected by a cortex lock. You cannot detect
the presence of inactive steamjacks or other constructs that
do not use cortexes.
Nevitash will begin searching for someone who might be being dismembered.
Rosaleen flagged Lily down as she returns looking somewhat disturbed. "Lily, is everything alright? What's going on?"
Kita woke up early, the dormitory still dark. She usually woke early when she was working, and slept late on her days off. Interesting. My body thinks this is a job.
She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but her body remained stubbornly awake. Sighing, she rolled out of bed onto the floor, and began her morning calisthenics in the dark. Push-ups, sit-ups, squats, and lunges, all in near silence. Warmed up, she dressed quietly and armed herself, then headed out to the dining room for more space. There were sounds and warmth from the kitchen, and the smell of baking bread.
Forcing herself to ignore the distractions, Kita began her gun kata. Half-martial arts, half-dance; as usual she fell into a near-trance as she completed the complicated series of maneuvers. Sometimes she flowed smoothly from one position to the next; other times, the moves were abrupt, the guns whistling slightly in the quiet morning air.
The sky was lightening up by the time she finished. Realizing she'd gone to bed without tending to her firearms, she returned to her cot and sat down, legs dangling on either side, and began to meticulously dismantle, clean, dry, and reassemble her pistols, then her rifle. She prayed as she did so, making the ritual an almost holy act, dedicated to Menoth.
The good smells were drifting into the dormitory in earnest now, and the others were rousing. Erryll groaned and raised a disheveled head from the pillow, peeking one eye open at her. She grinned, murmuring, "Buenos dias, Errlitos!" She stood and stretched, then grimaced as she caught the smell of her own body odor. "Podrías limpiarme, por favor?" He had just the handiest spell for that.
Kita woke up early, the dormitory still dark. She usually woke early when she was working, and slept late on her days off. Interesting. My body thinks this is a job.
She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but her body remained stubbornly awake. Sighing, she rolled out of bed onto the floor, and began her morning calisthenics in the dark. Push-ups, sit-ups, squats, and lunges, all in near silence. Warmed up, she dressed quietly and armed herself, then headed out to the dining room for more space. There were sounds and warmth from the kitchen, and the smell of baking bread.
Forcing herself to ignore the distractions, Kita began her gun kata. Half-martial arts, half-dance; as usual she fell into a near-trance as she completed the complicated series of maneuvers. Sometimes she flowed smoothly from one position to the next; other times, the moves were abrupt, the guns whistling slightly in the quiet morning air.
The sky was lightening up by the time she finished. Realizing she'd gone to bed without tending to her firearms, she returned to her cot and sat down, legs dangling on either side, and began to meticulously dismantle, clean, dry, and reassemble her pistols, then her rifle. She prayed as she did so, making the ritual an almost holy act, dedicated to Menoth.
The good smells were drifting into the dormitory in earnest now, and the others were rousing. Erryll groaned and raised a disheveled head from the pillow, peeking one eye open at her. She grinned, murmuring, "Buenos dias, Errlitos!" She stood and stretched, then grimaced as she caught the smell of her own body odor. "Podrías limpiarme, por favor?" He had just the handiest spell for that.
"That would be the lord's work at this point gurl, si, por fa, un momento."
A soft rune-glow forms around Erryll's hands & wrists; in a flash he looks, arguably, perfect
"Your turn"
Reaching out, the magic engulfs Kita; the road is gone, the dirt and tarnish are gone, and a faint scent of lillacs remains
"Lily! Friend, a favour: may I exit out the back please? I sense ... Nav may be in danger. My apologies!"
Not worried about Nav in the least ... but that can be forgiven I am sure.
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@Erryll - Lily nods her head and follows Erryll (and anyone else) through the doorway into the kitchen. The room is large and well stocked with everything neatly placed and only the breakfast dishes in the scullery room. The young boy from the night before has the back door open and is standing in the doorway looking out. From the open door, you can hear raised voices.
As Nevitashrounds the corner of the Inn, he can see that there are a number of outbuildings behind the large, barn-like structure. Pens for animals, a chicken coop, and a small herb garden take up most of the space, but it is a shed that all the people seem to be drawn to.
Nevitash yells out, "Stop what your doing!" And begin heading towards the shed to aid whoever is in danger.
Rosaleen sighed when she didn't get a verbal response from Lily to her question before the young woman left the common room. Being the last one in the room, she got up and followed the others outside.
Raised voices were rarely a concern these days after the fighting that had torn lands apart but Rosaleen was still on guard. Her attention, like everyone else's was drawn to the shed.
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Agnar continues to follow the fellow Ogrun. As it appears they have indeed found a kerfuffle, he uses his honed skills of deduction to try and glean what exactly it is they are heading into.
Alas, new to the area and still shrouded by the growing crowd, he can't pick up much here, and must needs march into the midst of the crowd to learn more.
Kita followed the two ogrun, towards a fracas of some sort. The new guy must have ears like a bat, I don't hear anybody calling for help. Nevitash seemed intent, however, and she was curious enough to follow along.
Agnar and Nevitash were big enough to wade through the small crowd with little difficulty. She saw Erryl and the others come at them from the backside of the hotel. Slipping through the crowd, following in Nevitash's wake, she entered the shed to see....
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A small crowd of locals stand before a large shed with its doors wide open. Within you can see some figures moving about, then a Trollkin steps out of the building wearing what looks like some sort of uniform and wielding a heavy, iron-shod staff. Beside him, a human, also in a uniform, steps into the morning sun. He wears a Cygnar Officers uniform and a quick look on his shoulder-boards shows he holds the rank of captain. Yet a third figure still lingers in the dark interior of the shed...along with some large-shaped figure.
"Get back all of yers. We have a writ of salvage here from the commander of the 3rd Division at Stonebridge, General Krismoor. It says that we can take whatever scrap we want and you can't stop us! Now get back or I'll have Sergent Horgal here make ya!"
"Scrap would suggest its something that is not working and is not in use. You are looting and damaging someone else's property." Nevitash replies to the man.
A small crowd of locals stand before a large shed with its doors wide open. Within you can see some figures moving about, then a Trollkin steps out of the building wearing what looks like some sort of uniform and wielding a heavy, iron-shod staff. Beside him, a human, also in a uniform, steps into the morning sun. He wears a Cygnar Officers uniform and a quick look on his shoulder-boards shows he holds the rank of captain. Yet a third figure still lingers in the dark interior of the shed...along with some large-shaped figure.
"Get back all of yers. We have a writ of salvage here from the commander of the 3rd Division at Stonebridge, General Krismoor. It says that we can take whatever scrap we want and you can't stop us! Now get back or I'll have Sergent Horgal here make ya!"
"No, that is actually VERY unlikely. Have the good Sergent stand forward. We will put him down like a beast and then we can all have a different discussion Major."
Runes light up across the length of Erryll's forearms; without another word, 4 balls of light shoot from Erryll's outstretched hand into the shed where they stop and hover
"My apologies, Corporal, Captain, whatever it is. You are equally odious; step forward in the stead of your manservant here. We would be just as well to put you down if you are unreasanble."
"Scrap would suggest its something that is not working and is not in use. You are looting and damaging someone else's property." Nevitash replies to the man.
"But know this: my friend was not joking. If you persist, AND the truth of this needs to be divined, understand that I already sensed a active Steamjack Cortex. Your little piece of paper will NOT save you from the Order of Wizardry: this is NOT a salvage operation, and you know it."
Erryll smiles ...
"STAND DOWN"
Her curiosity was quickly fading. There were no cries for help, and a writ of salvage was certainly no reason to start a fight. Kita turned to go back to the hotel when Erryll suddenly entered pre-massacre mode.
Turning abruptly back to the shed, she looked to see what had riled him up, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. "What ain't I seeing?" she whispered to him, her hands on her pistols.
Her curiosity was quickly fading. There were no cries for help, and a writ of salvage was certainly no reason to start a fight. Kita turned to go back to the hotel when Erryll suddenly entered pre-massacre mode.
Turning abruptly back to the shed, she looked to see what had riled him up, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. "What ain't I seeing?" she whispered to him, her hands on her pistols.
"The Cortex is ACTIVE luv, that's what I detected in the middle of the Inn ... so this isn't salvage; they are stealing someone's property AND trying to destroy the cortex so that it cannot say anything."