"I completely agree with the Witch. The Priest is our best bet here I think." Riven looks at Father Thomas with pride and honor in his eyes, 'Finally the Hell Squad...perhaps now he can find out what happened to his father.'
"Breyr? Darius? Who would you prefer to follow, when the chips are down and the zombies are clawing?"
Darius looks over the two candidates, "Hague, I'm sorry but I think Brother Thomas would be a better choice as leader."
"Breyr? What do you say?
Whomever is appointed leader, every man and woman will still be heard--I'll guarantee that personally."
"Breyr? What do you say?
Whomever is appointed leader, every man and woman will still be heard--I'll guarantee that personally."
(OOC: I say if he hasn't posted at all since July 10th, Paladin plays for him or we move on without him. Just my thoughts.)
"Well, it would seem we're fairly well set. I'll say only this: with great respect to Brother Thomas, a man with knowledge can advise any good leader. But when blood is flying, a fighting-man is oftimes better than a scholar, when it comes to calling orders and making split-second decisions."
(Sense Motive D20= 12+3= 15)
"Will you accept this Honor Brother Thomas?"
"What do think the Mayor meant about uniforms and the Guardpost? We are not supposed to live there are we?"
"I don't know what he means by uniforms, perhaps there is a particular garb he wishes us to wear. As for the Gaurd Post, perhaps that is where the problem started or might have started?"
"What do think the Mayor meant about uniforms and the Guardpost? We are not supposed to live there are we?"
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"Well, it would seem we're fairly well set. I'll say only this: with great respect to Brother Thomas, a man with knowledge can advise any good leader. But when blood is flying, a fighting-man is oftimes better than a scholar, when it comes to calling orders and making split-second decisions."
"Well, when the fighting is fiercest, the warrior on the front line usually only has eyes for his immediate opponent."
"I'd be honoured to accept the post, with the understanding that none of you need your hands held. You are all obviously competent at what you do, and I would be happy to accept input from any of you in your areas of expertise, when appropriate.
Hellard's name could open a few doors with the aristocracy, and mine with the clergy. The rest of you have your own contacts, and know your way round the Lower City, I'm sure."
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"Also, if we are to be advised by Master Zelluyan, it is better that his divinations come directly to one familiar with their meaning and significance, and not lose any substance in the re-telling.
As to our immediate plans, I already have here a current appointment for a meeting with Watch-Commander deVere, and I suggest (once Zelluyan has briefed us) we go there post haste. We can collect our uniforms, requisition better equipment, and inspect the Watch Post during daylight hours."
[/ooc]I'd guess Hellard is angling for Hague so he can make 'suggestions' without having to take any of the responsibility...:)[/ooc]
THOMAS:
"So we all are agreed then? Shall we speak with Master Zulleyan?"
The noble affects a breezy tone, but you can tell he's a bit annoyed. "Well, in sheer point of fact, we are all agreed but me, but of course I'll abide by your decision."
The big noble looks at the bellowing Commander with amused contempt. "My name is Hellard Byzenkampf; perhaps you know of my father?" He lets the unspoken implications sink in, then continues, "May I present Sergeant Brother Thomas von Mandelbrot, duly appointed leader of the Hellsquad -- of which I am, incidently, a member. I assume you will extend him every courtesy." Hellard bows itonically, then steps back a bit, giving Brother Thomas the position square in front of the Commander.
Darius, still not conviced getting involved in this Hellsquad business is a good idea, places himself out of the way in a corner of DeVere's office. He looks at the watch-commander, trying to decide if he is old enough to possibly have known his father and whether that would be a good or a bad thing given the contents of the letter.
He waits to see what the watch-commander has to say.
Are we clear?"
Hellard obviously can't resist an opening like that. In your brief acquiantance, you've known him to be consistently supercilious and often annoying, but for the most part well-intentioned.
Looking the commander straight in the eye, he says, "Just one question. Is it OK if I smirk at you, just a little, when I'm sure no one's looking?"
Lily's eyebrows shoot up when the Watch Commander begins his draconian speech. She waits through the presentation with mounting displeasure until finally, at the end, her lips are curled in some kind of vicious snarl. She defiantly steps closer to the Commander before speaking.
"One. We are going to be just as responsible for sparing your ass from the snarling hordes as anyone else's, so you need to re-evaluate your attitude with regard to us."
"Two. We didn't sign up for this because we thought it would be fun or easy. We were volunteered for it because we've proven ourselves capable. You can stuff your patronizing."
"Three. If you don't like the way we handle ourselves, you're welcome to find someone else to do our dirty work. I sure as hell didn't make my way all the way to Refuge just to get screamed at by a desk jockey with a fancy placard on his desk. I don't need your g@***&n self-righteous ass breathing down my neck to tell me what needs to be done. I know what's out there. I've fought them before,"
Lily conjures a handful of flame, seething with fury as it hisses and flares in her palm. "I think a little respect is due, Commander. Else this situation will get messy in a hurry." Her gaze bores holes into the Commander, her conviction clearly evident in her posture.
It doesn't take a Perception roll to see that Hellard's admiration for Pariah, obvious enough to begin with, has just ramped up through the ceiling. "Maybe we all picked the wrong leader," he mumbles under his breath. He grins openly -- despite the fact that she's stepped on his exit line and rather made him look like a mook in that regard -- as if this is the most fun he's had all year. Maybe it is; you have no idea what the nobility do to try and amuse themselves.
Riven steps up just behind and to the side of the Witch, "Watch-Commander deVere the Witch is right. I think this new Hell Squad will prove more adequate for the task at hand. Perhaps you should be looking more to be thanking us for the help."
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"As you can see, this group does not lack confidence or bravery, attributes that are essential when facing other-worldly opponents.
It may not have been made clear, that none of us have been drafted, but have volunteered, because we see a job that needs doing, and needs doing well.
If we are not welcome, then few of us have permanent ties to prevent us moving on. Therefore, it would appear that you need us, more than we need this assignment.
Though our optimism needs to be tempered with accurate information.
Your experience alongside the previous Hell Squad will be most valuable, and your offer of men is most generous.
It would aid us greatly if you could introduce us to any surviving members of the previous squads, or their journals."
After the briefing is over, Darius slips out of the watch-commander's office without word. He then heads downstairs (asking directions along the way) to get his new uniforms from the suppy sergeant.
With his new uniforms stuffed into his bugling satchel, Darius leaves the guard house and heads back to his rented room at the boarding house.
(OOC: Being a former member of the Watch, does Riven recall anything about this Watch Post?)
Riven, noticing Darius exiting, quickly catches up to him, "Hold on lad. It would seem it better to travel the streets in pairs then alone." Riven turns his head back to the others still in the room, "Shall we meet at the Post in half an hour?"
Darius, waits for Riven somewhat impatiently. "Sorry to rush off, but I have a few things I need to do before going over to this abandoned watch house. If you want to join me though, I would be happy for the company." Darius explains.
I am staying at Madam Turney's Boarding house (). I need to go there first and get my things.
"Would be my pleasure lad. Ah Madam Turney's, I know of it. Also I need to stop by the 'Tipping Tankard' and retrieve the rest of my gear, particularly my armor."
"Ah, at last, a bath, a change of clothes, and some worthwhile weapons! Sorry, old chap," to Riven, "but a half-hour hardly seems adequate; I need to get all the way home and back as well... would an hour and a half be too long?"
Stretching to relieve a cramp, Hellard looks at Hague and especially Lily. "If anyone else would like a proper bath and some decent clothes, you would be most welcome to accompany me."
"We should at least agree on the time to meet, especially if any of the old rumors of the Watch Post are true. You may just want to wait on that bath."
"I assure you, sir, that should we spend another day covered in rotting zombie offal, the already shaky solidarity of our squad should be totally rent asunder -- none of us would be able to tolerare the smell of any of the others!"
Darius plucks a chunk of rotting brain matter from his hair and disgustedly hurls it to the floor. "On that I think we can agree, at least. I suggest we meet at two hours after sundown, that should give everyone sufficient time."
Riven returns to the Tipping Tankard to retrieve his gear, placing it all on in comfortable positions before heading out the door...'Ahh it feels good to wear armor again' he thinks to himself as he walks proudly out the door. His thoughts to the future, to his life going away from what it has been...to seeing Honor in avenging his father.
(Arriving at the Post)
"Brother Thomas!" Riven waves as he approaches, "Anything of interest on the outskirts of the building?"
Riven, seeing Zulleyan, jogs over to him to help with the scrolls, "Master Zulleyan, here let me help you." Riven picks up some of the dropped scrolls and relieves the man of some still in his possession.
"So what can you tell us of the 13th Precinct?"
Anyway, for now, he thinks it might be best to be careful, and to watch. They all think he's a useless fop, so if he's late, it will prompt little thought from them.
He wishes for a better means of listening.
He hopes no one spots him.
Darius heads back to the boarding house where he has been staying since the death of his father. Madam Tourney had taken pity on him and given him a good deal on an attic room that while smaller, gave him more privacy than a normal room. He quickly headed up to the attic, he had alot to do.
He began by thoroughly washing of the remaining gore of the battle and changing into fresh clothes. Almost feeling like a new person, He sat down and got to work.
First he cleaned the flintlock pistol, removing the wet powder. He couldn't believe he had be so careless with the weapon, it had nearly cost him his life. He silently vowed to never be so careless again. As he reloaded the weapon, he examined the enchanted bullet. A heavy lead ball coated in silver. There were two rows of interweaving runes inscribed into the deadly projectile. In the right light, the runes seemed to glow with a green iridescence. So far he had been unable to make any sense of the runes, except that they seemed to be of a different origin than the ones upon dagger.
Next Darius began flipping through his newly acquired occult library. He had begun to investigate the occult, in an effort to learn what sort of beast had killed his father. In truth it was only three books so far, but Darius had read them all trough cover to cover at least once, even the one in gault. He was searching for the ritual on preparing a "ghost bag", a fetish that was supposed to protect the wearer from the influences of evil spirits, especially ghosts.
Looking over the meager supplies he had in his room, he found he had enough to make a ghost bag, two if he streached the powdered cat bone just a bit. Deciding to go for two, Darius began the ritual, which mainly consisted of burning some candles and saying an enchantment while packing a long list of ingredients into two small leather bags. As Darius finished saying the enchantment and tying off the bags with a complicated knot, the candles all snuffed out at once leaving the room in complete Darkness. Creeped out a little, Darius decides to take that as a sign that the ritual worked.
After completing the ghost bags, Darius realizes the others will be gathering at the street of the gods soon.
Making ready to head back into the night, Darius dons his new watch uniform. He was unsure about this Hellsquad business, but went along with it in the hopes that he would be able to gain access to materials to further his own occult investigation. On top of the uniform he added his leather armor and weapons, including his rapier this time along with the pistol and dagger. He loaded his occult books and the ghost bags into the dark leather satchel and slung it over his shoulder.
From the back of his wardrobe he drew a heavy wool cloak with a leather mantle and hood. Left by a previous boarder, Madam Tourney had given it to him along with a few other items. Then Darius his father's badge, the bronze shield of a captain of the watch, and clipped it to his weapon belt next to the pistol holster. Someone was bound to make the connection to his father sooner or later, so Darius decided he would stop trying to hide it. Maybe then he would learn why his father had been dismissed from the watch and be able to clear his name.
Then Darius left the boarding house, pulling the leather hood up to block the rain, he headed for the street of the gods.
Lily was at the station before anyone, having no need to gather belongings, prepare herself, or otherwise tie up loose ends before arriving. She coolly regarded the rundown building, frowning at the knowledge that it would soon be the place she would call home. Still, it certainly beat her typical routine of moving from sewer to sewer, hovel to hovel, to avoid the ravages of weather and the undead.