Derrick led them at a steady pace, making their way to the roads that were familiar to him but likely alien to her her. She didn't seem to have much knowledge of the local area, given that she needed his help to get back to Kaer Morhen. However, it didn't seem as if she was so reluctant to be around him now. Perhaps the battle with that... Thing had changed her mind about him somewhat. He wasn't going to complain, given that a little less hostility in his life was just fine by him. Times had been stressful enough. He could see a familiar bridge ahead. That meant that they weren't far away now. He turned around to call back to Treasa. "We're not far now! Sit tight, rest and relaxation a little further up!" He said, injecting a bit of enthusiasm into his voice. It had been a fairly quiet ride, so he wanted to see if he could restore a little life and enthusiasm into her so she was ready for the hustle and bustle of the city. He wasn't sure if she had ever been to Novigrad. Speaking of which, he didn't actually know where she came from. He made a note to himself to ask later. "That sounds sensible, it's a dangerous time for us to be alone." He spoke collectively, as if he were talking about Dopplers as a whole. The girl seemed to now be putting up a resistance to her companion's hand-holding. He figured that it was something that had been going on for a while. They were a curious pair... He wasn't yet sure what to make of them. He didn't think they were bad people. However, he did wonder which of them would accompany him to deal with Alanna. Or rather, to deal with what was in her room. Getting that pouch was the key to everything. He wouldn't pull her into an insane plan like this - He couldn't condemn her to death by the King if he failed, but he would not allow this to go on any longer. The Dopplers had suffered enough. "Who's going with who? We should decide quickly."
The soldiers continued to fire into her shield, trying to break through it with brute force. Alas, it was not enough. When the blood shards came at them, it was a storm of inevitable death. All of them resigned themselves to their fates. The squad leader was the only one to survive, barely, on the edge of life. It was fortunate too, because if he had fallen then Rose behind him would have been struck by the deadly barrage. He dropped his weapon and fell against the wall, then sliding down it leaving a bloody trail as he looked down at the incredible wounds he had suffered. He saw that disturbingly, the chains that held the prisoner to the wall had been damaged. He cursed and drew his combat knife, and slowly tried to crawl his way towards her. He had to stop her. "Yes sir!" Corenna called back, his arm moving up into a salute but stopping halfway. He continued about his business and he soon returned. "Of course sir. I'll have a meeting with the offices and have them distribute your orders to the teams." This commander was one of those distant types, he had decided. Zahariel did not seem to be a sympathetic commander. Although Jaden was a distant figure, when they did meet he made an effort. It was a shame that this man did not take after the Inheritor. Nevertheless, he would see this done. He wanted to win, and he wanted his men to survive this day. "It will take some time to move it. We've had it in the same place for a while, so we've placed things around it. But... I suppose we can do it. But why?" He answered. He reconsidered a little of his opinion of Zahariel when he mentioned that he was going to fight. That left Corenna to deal with the wider command of the situation. He felt a little nervous about that, considering their present company. Normally it wouldn't be a problem, but Zahariel had made him feel a little insecure about his skills. "Very well sir. I will do my best to maintain control of the situation. If there's anything... Just tell me. I know the men better, so I can probably get the orders through much easier."
Corvo recoiled as she approached, thankful that she at least dropped her gun. There seemed to be something that annoyed her greatly. "What do you-" Corvo felt her hand brush down his cheek uncomfortably and he turned his face away so that she couldn't try to claw the other side. Then, she said that the Seelie Queen tried to bewitch him. The Inquisitor's eyes opened wide in shock and he stood up to face her. "What do you mean she tried to-" He froze as soon as she pulled her gun on him. She talked about her trying to bewitch him, and that Yorick was overtaken. That was bad news. It sounded like the Seelie Queen had already got to their leader... He stood still as she loaded the gun, meeting her furious gaze with a cool, calm look of his own. Internally, his head spun as he tried to figure out what Yorick being trapped by her yet. How had she done it? He noticed a powder on her trousers after she touched his face, and something made her freak out after she touched his face. Could it be that? "I see... So that was the purpose of touching my face, other than taunting me. The powder." He spoke. "If you have iron bullets, we ought to share them. Now I understand why Yorick removed the bullets..." He folded his arms, but otherwise stood stock still. His instincts wanted him to pull out his Contender, but he knew that it was going to end badly. As good as he was, he couldn't dodge at this range. That, and he had faith that she wasn't going to shoot him if he didn't try to stop her. "Are you quite done pointing your gun at me, or am I going to have to stand still here for the next hour?" He said somewhat sarcastically. "We've got things to talk about. What magic did the Seelie Queen attempt? What has she done to Yorick?"
"Traitor? You're levelling accusations of treachery at me Luce? No, I'm afraid you're mistaken, and I have no intention of letting Yorick die. However. If you go to fight the Seelie Queen on her own territory, you will die." He pointed out, his voice remaining calm. "The better approach here is patience. Wait until he leaves. I doubt that she will do anything to him there and then. Once he is outside, he will come to us, and then we can try to explain his error, or get some answers." He followed her as she made to leave the room. He frowned. "What are you trying to do? Think before you act girl!" He spoke sharply. He considered saying more, but then stopped. He backed away and sat down on his chair again. "Do as you wish. But if you try anything, then you will be entirely at her mercy. That is not a place that you will want to be." His tone was resigned, as if he knew that if she was going to try anything, he had no power to stop her from doing so, regardless of how foolhardy it may be. And foolhardy it was. Not that she would listen, not to him. As far as she was concerned, he was some sort of traitor that had it in for Yorick and was a coward. She probably wouldn't take the time to consider why he appeared so stressed when she saw him, or why he had said anything. There was a reason she had never been able to win Yorick over, and that was because she didn't stop to think. She was all impulse action, with less planned moves. The old man was where he was precisely because he thought, he moved fast when he was ready to strike, but he stayed quiet and then made his move. And he listened to sound advice. "Put your quarrel with me aside. Rather a lot more will be achieved working with me. The both of us might be able to make something work." He urged, saying one last thing before giving up on her. If she was going to act against the Seelie Queen, then he was not going to be responsible. She had been given fair warning.
She was exactly the same as she usually was. Always full of wit and a smart comment or two at hand. He didn't deign to respond to her comments over how she got there, he knew she was being flippant and he didn't particularly feel like responding to it. Right now, he was on edge and he had only recently managed to get his nerves back in order. She commented on his appearance and glanced in the mirror as he followed her into the room. He did look pale, and there were dark lines beneath his eyes. It hit me worse than I thought it would. "And you don't look like you're prepared for battle exactly." He decided to take the chair as she had already helped herself to his bed. He was willing to let it slide on this occasion. Out of curiosity. "Thanks for bringing this by the way. And yes, things are bad. Between rebellious Nephlim and this Downworlder hunt, and the mess over Brianne turning... It's stressful. And I know that Aethelrick is here too. I can't think of anyone else crazy enough to plan a break in at the Institute to rescue Cyrus." Apparently Yorick was here visiting the Seelie Queen. He frowned. "Good idea. I don't think she's your type of company. I had the misfortune just a few hours ago." He spoke dryly. When she mentioned the bag, he nodded and began to unzip it to retrieve his equipment. "So, Yorick and the Seelie Queen... That about confirms it. Apparently he doesn't want me to be able to defend myself. Damn." Why Yorick was making an alliance with the Seelie Queen was beyond him. It didn't make sense. "Yorick's a fool if he thinks this arrangement will go well. I know her well enough to say that she only does things for her own benefit, and on her own whims." Corvo opened the bag and retrieved his crossbow, patting the sleek black weapon affectionately. He looked up at his new companion. "Grim as it sounds... Find a new career. Trailing Yorick and playing teacher's pet to him has a limited lifespan now. He's going to get himself killed. Damn, I know that she's watching right now. And he'll be right there with her by the sounds of it. Take care of yourself Luce. There are things going on here that even I don't understand." He stood up, bolts and stakes stacked under his arm. He pushed the wardrobe door open with his foot and rested the crossbow and ammunition against the wall. He reached into the bag and picked out the leather bandolier for his crossbow then slung it over his shoulder. "How long are you and Yorick here?" He needed information. Right now, the best thing that he could do was try to get as much as he could on what was going on. Information was power. If he had a time frame, then he could understand what was happening. This arrangement with the Seelie Queen, and Yorick leaving Alicante... Something didn't feel right about any of this. If Luce had abandoned Yorick and come here to see him, then there was obviously more at play.
Corruption Rating: 38% Soon after he had descended from the transport, the lancer from the Tower followed him across with an insane and impractical leaping attack. Vasher stepped sideways and sliced diagonally upwards, then anticipated an attack and dodged back. He struck Reitan with Duskfall, then willed three Shadow Lances into existence behind the lancer and shot the trio down towards him, covering the three directions that he could move backwards, the ancient spirit making use of Kalak's body as fuel for the magic, also shaped by the Demi-God. He felt its influence growing within Kalak significantly. Soon, the Demi-God would start to lose his own influence over the magic, and Vasher's would intensify. Kalak's soul felt part of him fade away again, and he could do nothing to stop it. The Huntress leaned against the side of the transport, taking a couple of opportune shots at Order soldiers as the firefight raged on around them. Something buzzed in on the communication device that she was using. "Captain, transport is under attack!" She gritted her teeth. She was going to have trouble getting there in this state. She needed to sort out her wound and then move, but she couldn't get there in time to intervene if the situation took a truly dire turn. "Hold out! Support is coming!" With great reluctance, she called the only person that she could think of right now that was able to intervene quickly. She called Aster. "Aster, the transport carrying your sister is under attack. You don't want her getting away do you?" She toned it as if she were challenging him, and she was quite confident that he was going to take it up. That, and maybe he would decide to make himself useful. If the squad called, then there was definitely a problem. Onamakritos finally showed up and she growled in frustration. "Stop writing in that f*cking book in the middle of a battle you dumb b*stard That would be a start!" She glared darkly at him. "And then, give me some damned medical attention!" "Damn you!" Eight exclaimed as the woman stepped into the transport and swiped at her with the butt of his rifle. "Get down!" The squad leader barked as they opened fire. Eight managed to dive back, catching a bullet in his chest and yelped, but drew his weapon up to open fire as well. The Squad Leader, One, was more conservative, allowing other members of the squad to run out and reload their magazines while still providing fire on the target. At this close range, he didn't fancy her odds, Demi-God or not. He'd rather die than let her get away. The Lieutenant listened intently to the barrage of orders that he was being given. He managed to recall vaguely from officer training class what the hell Schwerpunkt meant, which was good. He wouldn't look so much of an idiot. He didn't find any reason to disagree with Lord Zahariel's orders, not that he would have listened even if he did have anything. At least, that's what Corenna assumed. He didn't really know what sort of man- Well, he wasn't technically a man - He was. "Very well sir. I will have the men execute these orders." He gave a quick salute and turned smartly on his heel, before unceremoniously rushing off to execute orders with his coat flapping around him. The Shards' encampment became a hive of activity - Officers returned to their dormitories and shed their coats and adopted standard uniform. The machine gun teams got in position and the AA gun and both Artillery guns were armed. Troops lined the wall, spotters with binoculars surveying the hills. As all of it was starting to come together, the Lieutenant approached Zahariel again. "My lord, we are almost prepared. How long shall we maintain watch? There is no guarantee that the attack will come today. And furthermore, what would you have me do?" "And how long is it before those humans that side with them realise that they're dying for nothing? How long is it before the Order of the Hammer collapses in on itself because of the pressure of a losing war? Their days are numbered, and we shall hasten their demise. We Shards stand united." He spoke with conviction and confidence, and he had utter faith in his Shards of Hope. After all, he had moulded them to be that way. He made them who they were today. He rescued them from the clutches of his father who had nearly cast them into the void. He was the true Inheritor, something that none who came before could claim. No words of this jumped up woman could convince him otherwise. "Your existence is meaningless. Those that destroy are destined to be destroyed. You are a destroyer, for all you seek is destruction. You have no pride, no grander desire than to watch everything burn. And for that reason, you are unworthy to even speak to me." She tried to bait him with Carissa, but he would not fall for such a thing. Even if it were true, he had faith that something could be done. Demi-Gods were dangerous opponents indeed, and she knew that. He sneered at her. "So desperate for ammunition against me that you resort to using my sister being injured in a battle? Please, you think that she hasn't been injured before?" He shook his head, seemingly amused. "Demi-Gods are fierce opponents. They are powerful, and essentially immortal. They are truly impressive beings. You cannot expect someone who fights them to come out of it uninjured. And perhaps she will not kill him this time. But she will kill him another time, or someone else will. It doesn't matter. They'll die all the same, and she is a Samarost, so she will live. I am not concerned, though I am amused at your desperation." "I don't fear you, nor whatever you may profess to be able to do or to want. It makes no difference to me. At the end of the day, you're just another chapter in my history book." There was a knock on Jaden's door and a voice buzzed through on his desk. It was the captain of his guard. "Sir, it's one of the R&D team. It's urgent." Jaden raised an eyebrow and spoke. "Tell them to come in." The door opened and the guard walked in, accompanied by a man with curly hair dressed in a white lab coat with the insignia of the shards rendered in blue upon the pocket. "Inheritor. This is something that you'll want to see." He spoke, evidently trying to keep his voice calm. Jaden gestured for him to continue speaking. "A trans-dimensional communication crystal to Xanatos Reaver. We believe we have jammed methods of it being observed. Would you like us to activate it?" A grin spread across the Inheritor's face. "Of course. Lead the way." He spoke, and began to follow the man out of the room. He turned around almost as an afterthought. "Coming? Wouldn't it be nice to have a reunion?" He left for the lab and the Captain stepped inside Jaden's office, making sure that it was left clear.
The Doppler felt someone tugging at his hand before they left down the alleyway. He looked around and saw it was the girl with the platinum blonde hair. He saw the spark of vengeance in her eyes, even as she spoke. His face took on a grim countenance and he spoke. "All too familiar eyes..." He spoke, then a dark smile crossed his face. "You're not who I expected you to be." He tugged his hand away and followed the group silently, allowing them to lead the way to the person that they were going to meet. Her companion was protective of her, but he was not made of the same stuff as her. Something about it seemed inappropriate. She reminded him of Alanna in a way. She was more independent than her companion seemed to be allowing her, but it was not his place to comment on such things. However, the look in her eyes spoke volumes to him. It reinforced that drive in his heart. If this unassuming girl could carry that same passion, that desire to strike back... Then why shouldn't he? He thought of Alanna, and how disappointed she would be. But she would understand, she always did. She followed him to the end with his drive to destroy the Witchers. This quest he would not ask her to join in. The Witchers were an archaic force, but this was a King. There was no reason to involve her in this madness. He could only hope that she would forgive him. Eventually they found the girl that they were looking for, and she seemed concerned about his identity. It was only logical, given that she knew these two but he was just a stranger that tagged along for no obvious reason. He had believed these people in need of protecting, but perhaps it was not as much so as he thought. "I am a protector of sorts. An avenger. My name is Adolin Bonhart, and we need to get out of here, somewhere safe. But there's something that I have to do first." His words only served to affirm his conviction. He would do this. Thinking back to the hangings... There was nothing that he could do now. It would be foolhardy to try anything now. No, he needed something different. Like the Witchers, he would need to think. He would need to plan, and then he would strike. And this time... He looked at the girl and the other one with him. This time, he may not be doing it with quite so few. How many disenfranchised Dopplers existed out there? How many survivors of Oxenfurt were there? They would need a leader. Someone who would protect them from the bloody persecution and hunts to come. In his mind, there was only one person that could be. "Take me to somewhere we can meet up. Once I've done what I need to, then we can leave this city." "Good thinking." He commented with a simple nod as she tied herself into the saddle. He waited for her to finish, and to say that she was ready to leave. What she said next, surprised him. Not only did she profess that she would back him up from anything from Alastar, but also that she would follow him. The latter was the last thing he'd ever expected to hear from Treasa. He gave her a smile and clapped his hands. "Very well, we'll be off then! I won't lead us too fast. It won't do your head any favours and we don't need to make it any worse." There was no point in driving his new team mate ragged. He began to lead them onwards at a steady pace, balancing speed and the comfort of her skull.
The Inquisitor felt immediately more relieved once Roxanne left. He bolted the door afterwards and watched through the looking glass as she disappeared down the corridor, and that was that. He cleared his things off his bed and put them into the wardrobe in the room, hanging up his clothes and placing his toiletries in the bathroom. He was going to be staying here for a while. There was a ways to go before anything could happen, and he was determined not to give observers any more of a show now that the dangerous element of Roxanne was gone. He removed his coat and boots and unstrapped the Contender from his chest and placed it on the chair which he moved near the bed, with a box of ammunition. He could relax, but defence was close. He lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling and tried to calm his thoughts. He put his fingers to his temples and ran through some basic calming tactics, exhaling and inhaling deeply and trying to rationalise the situation. Eventually, he managed to calm his frayed nerves, after perhaps forty-five minutes of this almost meditative state. His peace however, did not last long. Little more than fifteen minutes later, there was a hard knock at the door. He shot up and within moments had his gun strapped to his chest. He hurriedly put on his boots and threw on his coat. He crossed the room swiftly and looked through the glass. "Luce Hemmingway," Corvo spoke, opening the door for his fellow Shadow Hunter. "You rarely leave Yorick's side, let alone Alicante. What brings you here?" He gestured for her to enter the room. Something about this set off his nerves. Once again, the swirls of thought began to spin again in his mind as he considered what the person who considered him her greatest rival for Yorick's approval had come to him, Inquisitor of the Clave, for.
He was too caught up to notice that Treasa wasn't able to stand, and when he looked down at her, a part of him felt a little sad. For someone so fierce, it seemed wrong to have them down on the ground and unable to do anything. She said he should move on and she'd catch up later. The Witcher shook his head and dismounted, even as she continued speaking. She sunk down to the floor, appearing to resign herself to her fate, but Derrick had other ideas. He knelt down by her right side and picked up her arm and slung it over his shoulder while putting his left arm around hers for support. "Damn right it was good fighting." Derrick grunted as he hauled her up from the ground and placed her on her feet, then steadied her with his right hand to support her weight. "And that was meant to be a compliment. You stand out. You've got more guts than most people I've seen. Let's get you to your horse. I'm not leaving without you. I like you, and your uncle would kill me." He guided her to Veceslav's horse as best he could, trying to make sure that she didn't fall over. His back and his shoulder wound seemed to screech at him, but he ignored the pain. No man- Woman left behind. "Ready Treasa?" He asked before he lifted her on to the horse. She might well decide that she was going to do it herself. He nodded at Seth as he came over, urging the girl to leave. Apparently he was quite the protective character, and they needed to go find someone called Matilda. He immediately considered the possibility that these two were somehow and item and that Matilda might have been their daughter. He didn't vocalise the thought, but nodded. It brought things into perspective a little. Even children were going to die to this insane purge. He looked back at the bodies hanging from the ramparts of the castle with a look of disgust. The pouch and Kaer Morhen sprang to mind again. Is this justice? I shirked my duties in Oxenfurt, but that didn't make a blind bit of difference. And before... Before I didn't see this. This is an attempt at a genocide of an entire race. He calls it exile, but he wants to drive us into the wilderness to die or get lynched by fearful peasants. We Dopplers will face persecution forever if he has his way. The only place to go is South, South across the border to Nilfgaard. And then what? Will the Nilfgaardians hate us too? "What...? Yes, yes, let's get out of here. You should find this Matilda. I'll go with you to protect you, but I'm not leaving the city. I have someone to look after as well." The slayer of Witchers spoke. He started to lead them out of the crowd towards one of the side streets. He wasn't sure where it lead yet, but they'd let him know if he lead them wrong. He looked around, making sure that there weren't any guards looking in their direction once they broke from the boisterous crowd. These people... They want to see us die. They'll watch the slaughter and laugh as our blood runs rivers through the street. Bryce was wrong. He attacked people. He didn't attack the cause of this. If he was just smarter, more far sighted... Then perhaps he would have made a difference. Adolin stopped at the entrance to the alleyway they chose and looked back over the crowd to the bodies. He felt angry. The same anger that had coursed through him to kill the Witchers for what they did to his family, and what they would have done to him if they had found him. Those who were hanged there would never go back to their families. Husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, uncles and aunts and brothers and sisters, all never to return. That all-consuming rage filled him again. Alanna said that they were on a new path. That they had to atone for what they had done. He had agreed to it, but he knew in his heart that it wasn't the life for him. The three swords across his body called to him. Ever since that moment all those years ago, this was his reality. He clenched his fists until his knuckles were white and his nails dug into his palms. These two were not fighters. These two were not killers. These two, he would save and then turn his attention back to destruction. He was on a timer, and he knew it. Whatever he was going to do... Whatever he could do... He was going to have to do it quickly. "Lead the way." He spoke to the girl and the boy, in a voice that sounded far distant from the city they stood in.
"Shut up!" Corvo barked, getting to his feet in a flash. He glared at her angrily. "Just be quiet! I need time to think!" He paced around the room, trying to get his thoughts clear. His mind was racing now, his eyes flickering from side to side. He approached the windows and drew them shut. He turned around, his coat sweeping around his legs. His hands curled into fists and the Inquisitor paced again. He put his head in his hands. trying to make sense of everything, trying to come up with a plan. Trying to come up with a way out. What was he supposed to do? He had to deal with Roxanne. He had to deal with Brianne. He had to deal with the Seelie Queen, who had Yorick on her side. Brianne was becoming something other than a Nephilim - A werewolf or a vampire most likely. That meant that she was outside of their jurisdiction. But what was he supposed to do at that point? He didn't have much time, but he didn't have his weapons. He didn't have everything that he needed to deal with all of this! He slammed his fist into the wall. "What the hell is this? Is this some sort of joke?" He spat. He looked up at the ceiling. "Hear that Yorick? Titania? Is this supposed to be some kind of joke? Are you f*cking with me?" He crossed the room and sat on the bed again, hard, and knocked the box for his Contender off the bed. He reached down and picked it up, then threw it in the suitcase. He unclenched and clenched his fists rapidly and looked up at Roxanne. "I don't even know what to do with you. I really don't. You're meant to be helpful!" He looked away, then put his head in his hands and tried to clear his head. He needed something salient, he needed something useful. He needed a plan. He needed an idea. Roxanne, Roxanne, what to do with Roxanne!? Something clicked and he looked at her. "Go. We'll meet up again soon. I'll text you. Just, get out of my room. Make sure you're there when I call for you. It'll be important." He gestured her to get out of the room.
Aedan watched Bryce get up. He was a changed man, charging into combat in a fit of fury that was unlike he thought that Bryce was capable of. He wished that there was something he could do in this situation. As it stood, Sanderson was shooting and Bryce had attacked, but there was nothing that he could do. The Druid backed up against the wall in fear, hugging the wood. There wasn't much that he could do here. He could at least protect Sanderson. That way, even if it came for Bryce and him and got them both, he'd have time to let loose another shot. There was nothing he could do for Bryce by the Drake. Aedan backed up into the corner (1/10 AP) He used Overgrowth on 3 hexes between Sanderson and the drake (5/10 AP?) He used Brambles on those three hexes (10/10 AP???) Fogwarden coming soon. [DOUBLEPOST=1461455154][/DOUBLEPOST] "Alright, let's go. Kellan will be waiting I'm sure." Aston led the group up the wide stone steps up to Fogwarden Keep. The staircase got thinner as it reached the top, so the group which was fanned out at the start of the steps had to walk through only four side by side by the top. When they did reach the top, it felt colder, and looking back they were at the same level as the forest canopy. He whistled and looked to the top. The Keep appeared to be dug into the side of one of the mountains. He had only just realised at that point how close they were to them, and therefore the edge of Tyrrus. At the top, he could just about see a balcony coming from a central tower which jutted out of the mountains. It was an impressive piece of architecture. Whoever this place was a memorial to was obviously either rich, or did something good for the country. He looked ahead, and one of the large doors made from the pine wood of the region was open. Aston went inside and was met with the smiling face of Kellan Sithwyr surrounded by three bodies. "Wow, you guys look worse for wear. Damn." His eyes drifted to the much wounded Anthea. "By the Mother, Christina you should seek some help. You're looking terrible! And so are you... Whoever you are. Steven. Oh, and there's another one. Cool. And you don't look like you've had the sh*t kicked out of you." He looked at Kevin, then at Roric. Then his demeanour changed and the eccentric paladin seemed an awful lot more serious. He kicked one of the dead bodies. "I had a brief chat with this one and took a poke around. So, here's the deal with this place." He began. "Notice how Fogwarden Keep is in relatively good condition? That's because it's maintained by Golems. Old ones. They didn't take kindly to the Burning Blade showing up, but they've been pushing their way through." He clicked his fingers and pointed to a large humanoid stone creation, if the human was about eight foot tall. He gestured to two corridors leading from this room, which obviously functioned as somewhat of a lobby. It had a high vaulted ceiling with a freize of a war around the room and the carving of a face in the ceiling. In the centre of the room by Kellan there was a campfire and a few stools, despite there being some chairs and tables around, although they looked old and from the age that this place was built. The two corridors were lined with statues, not at all similar to the golem which lay in the corner. "Those corridors lead down two different routes. One of those Philius took with the main bulk of the Burning Blade. The other a smaller group went down to explore, but it turned out a pain in the ass. Apparently, it was gated off. It required a password, and they couldn't figure it out. They did try to, but then that thing showed up. It killed the guy who was carrying the book they were trying to use, and that was that. It stormed after them and they managed to kill it with the help of some of the guys outside. Apparently it wasn't easy. It's up to you. If you're thinking of fighting through the Burning Blade I'm happy to help. Might be easier to try the other way. Considering the look of you guys..." He gave them a strange look. "Though maybe Baldy will go Hammer Time on these guys? Seems to have worked out better for him now than it did with The Jailor. It's up to you. They reckon we'll get to Phillius either way."
Corruption Rating: 35% Carissa saw Kala shifting into something else entirely and her eyes opened wide in surprise. She hadn't known what to expect from the woman, and it wasn't much considering her earlier displays. Apparently Jaden had good instincts, better than she knew. He obviously saw into her hidden talent. She had changed into some kind of monstrous creature and was racing towards the Demi-God. The robot that followed her around was rushing him from another side, so she loaded her crossbow again and let a magic suppression bolt loose. The spirit of Vasher saw all three things happening through Kalak's eyes and made his move. He spun sideways, sweeping Duskfall around as he did to deter anyone trying to get close to him and ran towards the side of the transport again. He jumped up with the Demi-God's Divine agility and flicked his hand, channelling the spirit's naturally familiar powers. It coursed through Kalak and the soul of Kalak, now pushed deeper into his body felt part of him slipping away again. A shadowy black disc appeared in mid-air and flew straight for Kala and then for Timothy, circling round to Carissa and finally Reitan as he swung into view. Alarmed at his appearance as he assumed it meant Teliana's defeat, he jumped off the transport. No sign of her there. He did see her one transport along, opening. Looking for Rose. Good. Carissa saw the black disc whirling towards her and she tried to dodge. The disc caught her in the side and she clasped her wound, getting up from the ground on to one knee. She gestured angrily for the others to go after him, gritting her teeth. "Damn you Demi-God. You shouldn't have instincts acting that fast..." She cursed. "We have orders. Shut up prisoner." The soldiers spoke as Rose taunted them to go outside. Unless someone called for their assistance, they had orders to guard her at all costs. It was essential to the Inheritor's plans, they were told, so they would stick to it. He was their leader, and he knew what was best. A few minutes later, from outside with the sounds of battle raging around, the door swung open. The soldiers who had waited for this moment sprang to their feet and opened fire, except one at the front who opened the other door to give them a clearer line of fire. Once it was open, he too let loose a hail of gunfire at the person who had opened the door, seemingly one lone woman with a death wish. "Well my lord, we have two artillery pieces available and a single anti-aircraft gun. Besides that, we have five mounted machine gun emplacements that can be positioned anywhere along the wall. And we have our detachment of one hundred staff on site. Eighty dedicated soldiers, the rest are assorted officers and engineers. " He recoiled at the vehemence of Zahariel's response to his statement of what his orders were. He gulped. Apparently Lord Zahariel was not one of the nicer NCOs in the army. He continued speaking. "As you can see, we are on top of the hill and we have these defensive walls to help repel an attack. The gun has so far managed to shoot down a few of the Order's ships passing through the area, and their wreckage dots the area around. Perhaps a mile away there are a set of hills, and we suspect that is where they may approach from as it provides the best cover." He looked down nervously. He really didn't want to mention the next bit. "And sir... We have no idea what is coming. The Inheritor sent you- Asked you to come here to protect us from an incoming attack." He got the impression that this was the kind of person who didn't like the idea of having people higher up than him. So, he was going to work with it. He'd rather that than the potential alternative.
Adolin saw the expression on her face. It was a scared face, one that to him, seemed cornered, so she didn't know what to do except to fight. He shook his head. Apparently she was a survivor of the Oxenfurt incident as well, and he could tell that she wasn't one of the aggressors either. She was just another person caught in the mess, and now she was angry. Before he could say much else, she decided it was a great idea to twist his arm. He gritted his teeth. "Stop that, I'm doing you a favour girl!" He hissed. He flickered his form for a moment to show her exactly who he was, and perhaps explain a little more why he was doing this. "Do you think that I don't know? Do you think I've not lost things myself? That's why I'm telling you this. Go find a village somewhere out there. Somewhere where the people don't care so long as you work honestly. Those places exist out there." He gestured to the blades he carried. All three of them, and the throwing knives visible through his slightly open coat. "It's not the life for me, but whatever life you want to have, it won't be served by running up there and trying to protest against it! You'll waste your life doing that! Hanging, burning, summary execution. Doesn't matter how, or when they do it, but you'll die one way or another." He looked at his arm. "Now if you wouldn't mind releasing me, then maybe the two of us can get the hell out of here? And your friend over there. I'm guessing he's one of us?" "I'm not going to go as far as a Leshen, it doesn't look right. A Fiend maybe..." Derrick considered. "We're not too far I should think. Certainly not more than a day. Let's get back on the road, I think I'll manage. But first..." He picked up his Silver Sword and strode over to the dead creature. He hefted the blade and got to work. It was a somewhat arduous process, considering the size of the thing, but he managed to get it off and dragged it over to his horse. He hefted it up and tied it to the horse. It whinnied in complaint but he shushed it. "Ow, my back." He complained, both from the exertion of carrying the sizeable head and that he had to pick up all of his potions and alchemy supplies and then put them in another bag. He clambered back on to the horse when he was done. "Come along! We've a ride ahead!" He remembered at that moment, that he wasn't actually wearing a shirt as Treasa had to remove with his armour to get to his injured back. He fished a spare out of his bags and pulled it on, then strapped his blades to his back and let his medallion hang out of the shirt in plain sight.
Adolin watched Archon's speech with a stern expression. Archon revealed their true face in a horrific fashion, and revulsion swelled inside him. How could anyone put up with such a terrible king? And yet, the crowd enjoyed it, as the crowd did. He saw someone nearby in his peripheral vision, a platinum blonde girl starting to panic. He looked over properly, guessing what was about to take place. Sure enough, she broke away from her friend and started to try to make her way through the crowd. Adolin shoved his way through some of the crowd and caught her arm with a vice grip from behind and pulled her over to him, a grim expression on her face. "What do you think you're going to do running over like that girl?" He barked. "You're only going to get yourself caught by those dogs." He put a firm hand on her shoulder and looked around. Luckily, he didn't see any guards near them in particular though he was certain he saw some around at least. "You're better off just getting out of this square. Go back home. Pack your things. Leave Novigrad. Because if I know people..." His face became more serious than it already was. "Tonight the pogroms start. A lot of people, Dopplers or not, are going to get lynched and it won't matter whether they kill the right people. Get out of here. Make sure you're not one of them." Judging by this display, this was soon going to become another Oxenfurt. Now that they were in the capital, the army wouldn't simply run away and even if they did take the streets, there was still the castle left. And there was no way that they could break that. Unless... He thought about the final pouch in his room. Alanna said we're never going to use that again, and it'd only give people ideas. And it's not what that guy would have wanted. But still... "No, not at all." He agreed with her statement, sitting up and grimacing as his back knitted itself together. At least, he thought, he hadn't broken anything. He reached for his chestplate which Treasa had removed and saw that the front of it was obliterated. He whistled. "Going to need a new chestplate. Damn, this was a good one too." He put it down on the ground and sat back, supporting his body with both hands as he looked up at the sky. Looks like I'll keep living beneath you, despite the efforts of that thing. He looked over at it. It lay there on the ground, its hide matted with blood and most fortunately, still. "Say, do you think it's worth cutting its head off and selling it in Novigrad? A monster like that might be worth something. If of course, we could figure out what it actually is." He looked over at Treasa. "Any ideas? Seen anything like it when travelling with Alastar?"
"Ah thank you Yorick. I'll look forward to receiving -" He expected this? And worse, there was the idea of bad news. He visibly tensed, his paranoia spinning into overdrive. He gritted his teeth and waited to hear what was happening. What Yorick said made him stumble backwards with the gravity of it. He knows about what the Seelie Queen said to me? It continued to get worse. "What? How is that possible? How can Brianne stop being a Nephilim? Was it a vampire? A werewolf? Did they bite her? Is she really beyond help?" Yorick had no answer, and he was left with the advice to take the silver bullets. That was a given, he could be dealing with werewolves. If one of them had got to Brianne, surely she would be seeking help already? What was happening? He looked at Roxanne, an obviously troubled expression on his face. He stepped backwards and sat down on the face, looking around the room. The Seelie Queen. Yorick. They knew everything. She was watching. And she was reporting to Yorick. And he wanted him to kill his fellow Shadow Hunter. Was it a mercy? He looked at Roxanne and placed his hand on the gun in his coat. She heard everything. She'll try to stop me at any cost. She'll try to protect her. The Inquisitor was stuck for once. He had received direct orders from a ranking member of the Council, yet... He didn't want to do it. And yet... It was never an easy choice to enact judgement on a fellow Nephilim. He clenched his left fist. He watched Roxanne intently. He couldn't trust anything right now. The Seelie Queen and Yorick... This was not according to plan at all. What was happening here? "There's more going on here that I realised..." He spoke, his eyes fixed on Roxanne. He was tense. Ready to move. If anything happened. Anything. He was on edge. Suddenly, things seemed a lot more complicated than before.
