"Pardon me, but you're hardly the height of humility." He remarked dryly. She acted as if she were so far above everyone, even them. He wondered if she accepted anyone as equal. Perhaps it was the nature of immortality. It was good then, that they knew what it was to be mortal. It allowed them to see that life was fleeting and how important it was to make use of it, because for Nephilim it was limited. He wondered if she realised that. "Farewell all of you. And Brianne, good luck." He spoke sincerely and turned around to the Institute and walked back inside, leaving them to their business. As he returned he saw Roxanne staring off into the distance, a blank expression on her face. He frowned, suspecting that this was symptomatic of whatever it was that plagued her. The memories of this boyfriend of hers that had died, he suspected. Or the mysterious Him that she had referred to. "Roxanne, are you alright?" He asked. These people were his children now. As the highest ranking member of the Shadow Hunters, it was his duty to lead and guide them in their time of need. And as for the Downworlders, he had to keep peace and make sure that they didn't get out of hand. He wasn't comfortable with the presence of all the Werewolves in the Institute, but he would have to deal with it. "Get a drink and sit yourself down. You're only working yourself up." The Fae's Emissary was sat in her chambers upon a comfortable velvet chair. The room she sat in, what counted for her office, basins of water were lined up over the wall in which small little creatures of shimmering ice danced across the waters. Outside this room, in a lobby of sorts, was a fountain in which several of these Ice Fairies played, skipping along the water and leaping gracefully. There was a desk in the room, though she was not sat at it. Rather, she sat at a comfortable chair in the back where she allowed herself to sit when there was nothing more pressing to do. And for now, there wasn't. Admittedly, that was mostly because she couldn't fathom how exactly she was going to repair the damage that was presently being done. Glynda Weiss Estelle Eleanor Newfrost was by no means blind, and she knew what their Queen was doing. At times like this, she often thought to herself that Titania was better off as Queen of the Unseelie Court. That would mean that she would be gone, and that was for the best. Titania was making a mess of things. If the Nephilim got word of the truth of what happened, then there could be an all out war. Was that a possibility that she was willing to accept? Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of someone, a Seelie Knight entering the lobby. Her little dancers on the fountain informed her, and she stood up and rearranged her dress, then buckled Solaris to her left hip. She had opened the door and stepped by the time that the Knight had got halfway across the room. "What is it that you need of me?" She asked with a neutral expression. "The Seelie Queen sent for y-" She nodded. "Say no more." She brushed past the Knight and walked briskly to the Seelie Queen's chambers. She cleared her mind on the way there. She soon arrived at her chambers and was admitted entrance. Inside... The scene was disastrous. There were two Nephilim here. One very much a prisoner, the other very much bewitched. Cinead Coldspring, a Fae she recognised was here too and he looked as if his own situation were not much better than the captive Nephilims'. Glynda gave the Queen a respectful curtsy. There was no need to divert any irritation towards her today. "Greetings my Queen." She met Titania's eyes with the same neutral expression, as if she didn't notice nor mind what was happening around her. "What do you need of me?" The Werewolf paced the room that he was in. The rest of his pack, his old comrades from Norway were with him. They were in his apartment, in chairs, on the sofas and sitting on the floor. They all watched him interestedly. They likely knew what he was going to say, what he had been working towards. Now it seemed the right time to plead his case. "Old friends, pack mates. The time has come for we sons of the North to make our play." He looked at them all. "If we do not act now, then we will miss the opportunity to become the Alpha. We will fall into irrelevance. We did not come here for that. Therefore, I ask you all - Will you stand with me in my bid for Alpha?" He stopped pacing and regarded them all now, watching them with an appraising eye. He challenged each of them with a look, and when none raised their voices he nodded. It was then that Skjoll stood and cleared his throat. He eyed his friend curiously. Was this an opposition? "I'm with you brother. I dragged you into this world of ours, but you've outdone us all." There was a murmur of agreement, and the older Wolf grinned through his thick ginger beard. "I can't think of anyone here worthier than you. You'll do us proud out there." There was a cry of assent and a synchronised cheer. Karl and Skjoll clasped their right hands together and bumped shoulders. The other man slapped his back. Karl gave a nod of thanks to the rest and walked into the kitchen in the next room. He opened the fridge and retrieved two large boxes of beer and carried them into the next room. He placed them down and opened one, pulling a bottle opener from his back pocket and opening the first. He handed it to Skjoll. First, they'd celebrate their future leader, then they were going to get the word out. Karl Bardison, the Wolf from the North was here, and he was the Alpha that they had all been waiting for. One that was going to make even the Fae respect and fear them.
Rose thanked the starts that Jayce made his movements so obvious, and even did her the favour of shouting out his plan. She covered her head and threw herself on to the passenger seat as bullets riddled the vehicle. It pitched forwards disturbingly as the shots blew out the wheels and she saw the engine catch fire. Alarmed, she threw herself to the side and wrenched the door open, tumbling out and rolling away as the fire soon spread and the engine detonated. A scalding wave of heat rolled over her and she cried out, the heat blistering her skin and marring her pale face. She could only hope that Jayce suffered the same. She picked up her weapon and loaded it again, one of the few paralysis bolts she had left in hand now, her stock down to three. One of which she loaded. She looked through the glare and haze of the engine fire. She dared not get near it for fear of getting burned worse, so she walked around to the back and peered around. She turned, and checked the other side. In this manner, she lay in wait for Jayce and fired as soon as she caught sight of him. Jaden decided to ignore most of the obscenities spouted by Calxiyn. She was most crude, and he couldn't help but understand why Aidan had abandoned her, and also wondered how they managed to put up with her for so long. If this was her real personality when she was around her friends, then he couldn't imagine anything worse than being stuck with her. She also didn't reveal anything particularly useful to him, so what she said was of ultimately little value. He couldn't help but smirk a little as the Demi-God shot her down at each and every turn. He particularly enjoyed the mockery of her vaunted keyblade. "Did it? I hear it broke." Jaden raised a sceptical eyebrow at the comment about the Hammer. As far as he was aware, it was broken before that time. Unless he had reforged it of course. "Strange isn't it? How we all have our friends, and they die for our wars." The look that he gave the Demi-God was best described as accusatory, as if to remind him that this was his fault. "You'll be pleased to hear that Jayce Reaver still lives. For now. As for the crystal, we 'requisitioned' it." He considered the answer to the final question. "I want to talk. I want to understand you, and why you felt it necessary to continue that feud. I want to understand why you fled. I want the chance to see history for myself. To see it through your eyes." And for this war to end, with me as the undisputed victor.
Derrick followed Treasa as they made their way through the city, being buffeted around by the crowds. There was something almost therapeutic about it, casting oneself into the tides of people and allowing them to carry you wherever. In many ways, that described the Witcher's life. Setting out on to the trail, going wherever the job took you or where the next job was - Hearsay from other towns or the begging of farmers coming to town to seek help with the monsters that ailed them. He had drifted so far, and he'd continue to drift. He wondered at times, what it was like to live a normal life. To have something clearly defined for you, a purpose that you could fulfil rather than the endless monster slaying of a Witcher that promised pay, pain or death for you at the end. It wasn't the most gratifying job. He wondered how many Witchers had the same thoughts. When they reached the store, he found himself doubting the story of the blacksmith with the silver, and his medallion told him that it was a Doppler behind the counter. He simply sighed. There was no point in making an issue of it. It could be true, he could have killed the Witcher who owned the sword before, but it was too late now to make a difference. At least now it was in good hands. The right hands. "Next up, I'm selling that head. With the money, I'll get myself some new armour, saddlebag and all that." He returned to where their horses were stabled and led his to the marketplace. He wasn't sure how best to do this, so he figured he'd just auction it off. He grabbed a nearby crate and stood on top of it with the reins of the horse in one hand and shouted as loud as he could. "The head of a rare beast for sale! A fearsome creature that nearly slew this Witcher! An essential piece for any display!" He was usually... Subtler. But he didn't actually know how to sell this damn thing, because hell if he knew what it was. With any luck some sort of scholar would show up and buy it off him to classify it or something like that. "That was enlightening." The Doppler remarked dryly as Seth ran off. He shook his head. "First things first Tessa. Never do that. He could have at least tried to give us a lead on something." He paced around quietly for a few seconds, trying to plan out a next move. They were searching for one person, somewhere. Truthfully, he hadn't a clue of where to start. They could try the 'go back to the alley and figure out the direction they went' approach, but he didn't have the senses of a Witcher and in this place any scent would be quickly lost. There was a massive crowd and the footprints would be lost in the bustle of the street, making the use of Carrak of Cintra of limited... Use. "Do you know where their house is? I assume that's where they'll go if they're lost somewhere."
Needless to say, the Inquisitor was most surprised to discover that the one outside with the fiery cat was none other than Hestia Sunspoke, the High Warlock who he had been looking for. He raised an eyebrow and smiled, glad of some good news for once. "I thank you then, Hestia. I was just coming to find you, to beg your assist-" He was instructed to move, so move he did. Brianne was dragged out, and she didn't seem all that happy about it. He wouldn't be either in her position. He was starting to have had enough of being ordered around by the Downworlders. While he didn't expect them to bow, he expected to be treated as equals. However, in this instance it would be helpful if the ex-head of the institute would kindly calm down. "Brianne, please do your best to remain calm. Though you may be turning, a werewolf is not a wild beast." He requested in a measured tone. She couldn't afford to let her slip too far into the bestial state of mind that she was sinking into now. "It seems that the people going with you are mostly decided. If I may, at some point I would like us to talk, to form an alliance. I don't need to remind you of the gravity of what will happen if Titania succeeds." Corvo requested. He looked over at Brianne. "I hope you'll help in this matter. You're becoming a werewolf, but that doesn't mean that you're no longer on our side. Remember that, Shadow Hunter." He measured his words to ensure that not one was out of place or pitch. He needed to be the representative of the Nephilim and seeing that two had since elected to go with Hestia, it was up to him to organise this mess of a situation. It would be difficult to decide where to go from here. Their focus it seemed, would need to be on Yuri and getting his assistance. But how they would go about doing that... Was another matter entirely. Perhaps it was best to converse with some of the Werewolves nearby to gather some information. Unfortunately, his access to the records in Alicante were presently severely limited. They needed to get something akin to the Humans' internet for information sharing purposes.
Carissa felt the explosion going off not too far from her. Someone sporting had fired a rocket at her, but it had missed. She counted herself lucky that she had kept herself low amongst the bodies of the dead. A shower of blood and bits of limbs rained down upon her, but she crawled through it all. If anything, it helped her look like some of the people here, acting as a macabre camouflage. Jayce had escaped Onamakritos' flames, who was sporting a wound in the side now, but she wasn't worried. She saw her bolt buried in him. Even if Rose had taken the paralysis bolt, Jayce's greatest advantage was gone now. He was down to her level, his magic limited and in the mortal realm, she excelled. The Huntress soon arrived at her objective. The back of the vehicle was damaged, notably the gun on the back of it was destroyed and the windscreen shattered. That was fine. She pushed the dead driver out and spotted Jayce. He wasn't hard to find. She put it back in gear and set off as quickly as she could. It was a rough ride, the vehicle's wheel having to climb over or plow through the bodies to get to him. She fired off a bolt from her crossbow at the Demi-God, and sped forth to run him down. Corruption Rating: 45.5% "You should have surrendered sooner. You'd have kept your dignity." Spoke the Ancient Spirit. Smoke rose off Kalak's body from the explosion. Bits of ragged flesh hung off his face, but already dark stands were beginning to weave it together. The armour had been destroyed, but the shadow simply rebuilt it. "No matter. Immortality is useful like that... We can wait as long as need be..." The Demi-God walked towards Reitan, holding Duskfall in two hands. A Black Chakram materialised near the ground and spun swiftly for Reitan's legs while a Shadow Lance sped towards his chest. "You'll die... eventually." The tone of voice was shifting, from the calmer voice to a rougher, savage tone and back again. The Demi Gods were legendary. Incredibly powerful beings that wer more than any mortal man could hope to be. Angrier, sadder, yet happier and calmer. They were the peak of everything humanity dreamed itself to be. Masters of the physical, the mental and the magical. They were foes worth fighting. At least, that's the story he spun. They were the villains of Aidan's glorious, oh so successful crusade that got them here in the first place. And yet, what he was faced with was an idiot. Jaden frowned and folded his arms, giving a disapproving glare to the antics of the legendary Xanatos Reaver. He would have said that this fool could not have been him, yet he seemed to be rather opposed to the presence of Calxiyn. Part of him was amused, but the other part was displeased. This is what Aidan couldn't kill? He could barely disguise his contempt. He had nothing to say. He just waited for how Cal reacted to this... Mess.
"I don't know. But Titania has Yorick here under her spell, and I fear she'll do the same to Luce." He answered. That would reveal quite clearly the severity of the present situation, and likely provide an explanation of why he was here now. The strange Downworlder gave them a quick report and he gave a look of confusion. "What do you mean, a flaming cat? I'm checking outside." He turned to the door and walked out. Sure enough, he wasn't wrong. The damage left by the Seelie Queen was obvious, and he saw Clarity being attended to. He also noticed the burning cat. And there was the small matter of the injured werewolf at the Barrier Rune with the woman that he was forced to escape from during the battle at the Institute, and the woman treating Clarity. He dispelled the barrier and jerked his thumb to the door, glowering at Felicia. "Get him inside. There's a lot to discuss." He assumed that since they were fighting the Seelie Queen, they were friends. They were both werewolves, and as he remembered before then the woman had others. Which of them was responsible for turning Brianne? Those were the only ones that he knew she had contact with. For now, he had to deal with the one attending to Clarity Questions about Clarity's condition would have to wait until later. He whispered the name of the blade which he had heard Luce uttering earlier before addressing the stranger. Gabriel. It didn't pay to speak whilst armed. "Who are you? I didn't see you battling the Seelie Queen outside when I arrived. When did you get here? Why are you here?" She was a Warlock, that much was obvious. And a powerful one at that. That might have explained the cat, but he wasn't sure. It didn't seem like a demon to him. If it was, then it wasn't malign. Perhaps a familiar of sorts? If she was as powerful as he judged, then it far within her capabilities.
The Witcher caught the smile that Treasa gave him but he didn't show any obvious signs of his surprise. Apparently he had caught her off guard. Perhaps it was the timing of it, she had just woken up, that had allowed a simple flirty joke to get through. Perhaps he had broke through some layer of ice, but it was hard to tell. Judging by the speed that the expression disappeared from her face, she wasn't happy that she had let herself slip. "Yeah, I've got a bit. And I've got the head of that beastie which we can sell for some cash. Alastar may not approve, but you need a weapon to fight monsters." He looked at her seriously. He was honestly a little surprised that she wasn't at least given one. If he was the other Witcher, then he would have found her one but warned her only to use it only when necessary, and not to show it off either. "Just remember not to try to solo an Arachas or other big game with it. We don't come out of those alive, even with potions." Part of him felt silly for reminding her. She probably already knew, but at least this way he covered his bases. He nodded. "Makes sense. I should restock. And get a new bag." He glared for a moment, remembering the demise of that unfortunate bag. "Let's be off. Lead the way." He gestured to the door. "Tessa, Seth, good to meet you. I look forward to working with you." And the rest to come. We've got a long ways to go yet, and this is a hard road. He looked at Seth. "I wouldn't discount this Sigmund quite yet. He might not be happy with you, but he might be a useful ally. We've got to get as many of them in our pocket as we can. As you might have noticed, we're a little short." His points about this Matilda seemed quite valuable. He was intrigued by these contacts that he mentioned that she might have. He rubbed his chin. "Those contacts of hers could come in handy. We should find her, if we can figure out where she might be. Above all right now, we have to move fast. Time is of the essence." As he spoke, he seemed to tense up and appeared restless. The hands of time ticked away in his head. How long did they have before the killings started? Half a day? Hours? An hour? It was hard to tell. The general listened intently to what she was saying. It was hard to believe, but if an agent of the Impera Brigade mentioned it - one that General Caerme Ymaladda notified him of no less - Then there was something important to it. He was reluctant to act on it to a certain degree, these soldiers were useful. However, this could assist with the potential overall objective of subjugating the Northern territories as it may ingratiate them to the people by rescuing them from this horror. He nodded. "This sounds like a significant threat. There is no other way. We will act on this information." He cleared his throat and called out to the surrounding officers and members of the general staff. "Muster the men! And some siege engines!" He looked around at Ellyn. "If they have a castle, then we might have a siege on our hands." He extended a gauntleted hand towards Ellyn. "General Rhetz Godyvron. We'll be working together on this. Do you have anything else you would like to add?"
"I'm only here to talk Brianne. I've no desire to kill you. Besides, the situation has changed. We need to talk at some point." The Inquisitor said, answering her before allowing the rest to play out. He watched the others, observing the dynamics there. One of the first things he noted was that Cyrus was annoyed at being called by his old name. He nodded respectfully. "I'll refer to you as such from now on then, Hendrick." It was immediately obvious to him that Roxanne was the lesser of the people here. He got the impression that she wasn't thought well of, and she showed signs of intense instability. She wasn't reliable, he could see that better now. He wasn't sure at first whether her behaviour was down to the sudden intensity of the situation of being captured, but she was generally like that it seemed. He couldn't help but wonder who decided that she was fit for field work. When all this was over, he was going to go back to Alicante and get her reassigned. She wasn't suitable for this. "For the record Brianne, she took another Nephilim. Luce Hemingway, Yorick's assistant. We need to talk about what I learned from her. There was also a werewolf, and a Seelie Knight. Was that werewolf outside the one who...?" He didn't need to finish the sentence, the rest was implicit. "And I concur. Titania's plans are a threat to everyone. I'm sure that both will unite against her if they know what she is doing to their people, and how the balance of power is shifting." Hendrick spoke up, stating that he had a good idea of how to contact Yuri. "Very well. If I may make a suggestion, then if Hendrick pursues his lead on Yuri then I can look into contacting Hestia." He offered. "And might it be worth someone checking the situation outside? It's been quiet out there."
"Well, at least you're alive. And the scars make you look kinda badass. I wouldn't mess with you, you've seen some ****." He said after she finished recounting the tale. He hoped that he never got into an altercation with Alastar when he was mentally unbalanced. He made a note to himself not to piss him off until after he had reunited with Treasa and caught up with things. If he managed to get the man to shift, then it was going to be a rather awkward chase while he ran away from the angry bear Witcher. He certainly didn't want to hurt him, because he was a Witcher even if he was in the process of Berserking. He'd ask Veceslav about ways of dealing with Berserkers when they got to the Kaer. Perhaps in the man's years, he had come across something about them that might help. He did his best not to watch Treasa while she was getting herself dressed again, but he couldn't help but steal a quick glance, though there wasn't much to see with her back to him. That also meant she probably wouldn't have noticed. Might be better that way. She looked at him again and commented. He laughed and winked at her. "Like what you see?" The Witcher began to dress himself, being gentle with his movements for now as he didn't want to undo his surgery quite yet. They probably needed to take it easy. "Anything you want to do while you're here? I want to get a new set of armour at the very least." There was a chest by the bed with his immediate personal effects and he picked up the broken remnants of his armour. "It's kinda... Broke as hell. Should get you some as well." Something hit him. "No, what you need to get is a Silver weapon in case we encounter more monsters on the road. I'll probably need a hand." He suggested. Only then did he put his medallion on, now that he was in a more proper state of dress. It was too late to get the message. "Very well, let's be off then. Follow me." Adolin moved hurriedly away. He could see that the crowd were getting restless. From here, it wasn't far to get to the inn. He led them inside and bade them to wait downstairs a moment. He spoke quickly to the bartender, who remembered that he was staying in the same room as Alanna, who offered him a spare key. He ran upstairs and entered the room. She was fast asleep. He smiled, seeing her face in an expression of serenity. The Doppler felt a pang of guilt at this, but it was the path that he was taking and he could have no regrets. He rifled through her bag and found her writing equipment. He wrote her a note, blew on the ink softly to dry it and folded it neatly. Once he was done, he gave her a last look and closed the door. He could swore he heard her muttering his name as he left. He returned the key and rejoined the other two. He led them into a corner where nobody else was, and spoke in hushed tones. "I've done what I needed to. What are your names, and do you know any hideouts? Places people might gather. Oxenfurt had sanctuary, does any other such place exist?"
Carissa watched with surprise as the shot went off and slammed into Jayce. She grinned. The leader of the Order of the Hammer himself was now killable. She was enthused with a great energy. She was giddy. She was elated. A sense of excitement overcame her. She could damn near win the war with this very moment, make history and make Jaden proud of her. She could make everyone proud of her, admire her. She yearned for the pleasure and the glory. Her joy was short lived as a knife slammed into her lower back and she staggered forwards. You f*cking- She was interrupted by a gunshot and threw herself at the ground headlong behind a body as a bullet tore into her side, blowing out a large chunk of flesh. Carissa howled as bullets struck the ground around her, but she had to keep going. She trained with the Blackshards, and they were taught a mindset that was passed down from Aidan himself. It ran in her very blood. She ignored the pain, forcing her way through it. Only Jayce mattered. She'd give every limb of her body to kill him right now. Maybe she'd have to. "Get... Him!" She shouted to anyone nearby that could hear. She remembered that Onamakritos should be nearby. She loaded a paralysis bolt into her crossbow. It might not paralyse him, but it would certainly slow him down. She crawled and rolled, evading shots where she could but a bullet slammed into her right shin as well. Jayce wanted to kill her badly. Well that was alright. She wanted to kill him too. She loosed the bolt at the Demi-God before loading in a magic suppression and firing it off. She knew the stories of his lightning. Anything she could do to weaken it would be good. Her armour was coming to pieces. She'd need a new set. And medical attention. Lots of it. She moved as best she could, keeping a low profile and rolling between bodies to get to one of the smaller vehicles that they had accompanying the transport convoy. She had an idea. Corruption Rating: 40.5% Kalak growled with irritation as the wind wall deflected his lances again. It was no matter. He had other solutions. The Demi-God took one hand off Duskfall and opened it up. The smithing knowledge of Kalak awoke and from the strange shadows he commanded a black metal spear was formed, one longer than Reitan's lance. He thrust it into the wind, using the divine strength of Kalak to force his way through to the man inside. After that, he swung the Zweihander into it as well, allowing the cursed blade to slice through the wind towards his foe.
"No, Luce!" Corvo cried out as his only somewhat reliable ally was taken away by the Seelie Queen. He caught her blade and looked across. She had suspended others with more of those damn vines, including another Fae. Interesting. He steeled himself and sprinted for the door. He was drawing close to the Seelie Queen, but he could see her attention wasn't on him. It was on another one, werewolf by the looks of things. He saw the Ifrit, Clarity was bound as well, damn near dead. Normally he wouldn't have been particularly bothered by this sight, but it pained a little to see a potential ally against the Seelie Queen lost. It wasn't over yet. He could still make it to the Institute. Part of him was tempted to try to free one of the prisoners there on the way past. She wanted them for something. Should he deny her? Could he afford to take the risk? He remembered the Seelie Knights in her chambers. It was best not. That Fae was going to have to make it out alone, and may the Angel help the rest. Corvo sped past the group, but as he passed, he looked at Luce with an expression of anger on his face. "I'll get you back!" He turned away, and as he reached the door he saw a Barrier Rune. He had to take the chance. He could only hope that it was written to keep out Downworlders like most. Luckily, it was. The Inquisitor burst through the doors of the Institute and slammed them behind him. There were a few people in front of him in the foyer, one of them being Roxanne. "Excellent Roxanne, you made it here. She won't get through. I doubt she'll even try. She has what she came here for. She must have, or she'd have gone after me too." A dark look crossed his face, and he examined the situation inside. It was a disorganised mess to be sure, and he could see the effects of what happened to Brianne playing out on her. It didn't look good. They needed someone to take charge here. Interestingly he spotted Cyrus, but no Aethelrick. And a Vampire. Questions for another time. "I'll answer any and all questions later. For now - Cyrus, Roxanne; Carry Brianne out of the foyer and get her to a bed. What's happening isn't going to be pretty, she should be put somewhere comfortable. Downworlder, you're keeping watch with me until she leaves. If we leave the Institute, we leave the best protection that we have. Even if we have to move, it's best to keep Brianne out of the way. She can't fight in her condition, and if it comes to it she'll only hold us back. Is there anyone else here that I haven't accounted for?"
Kellan looked at Steven with a 'WTF' expression on his face and held his arms up. "You don't know sh*t son! If you're that good then I bet you could have taken them all down yourself and never have been seen at all. Oh wait, your ass is injured. Guess who's flawless?" Kellan gestured at the lack of injuries on his person. "Get that stick out of your ass before I take it out and beat you to death with it. And figure out this password o' master assassin." "Come on guys, we have to look for this password." He shook his head. He couldn't help but feel that despite the man's attitude, Kellan did have a point. Kevin hadn't really shown off his skills there, so he wasn't entirely sure what the know-it-all assassin was bragging about. He noticed that Anthea looked like she had something to say. "What's on your mind Anthea?" He made sure to use her real name, because she probably wouldn't want to be called Christina. As he spoke, he opened up the book. He found a bloody page, where he found possibly what they were going to need. It appeared to be a history book. He nodded at Kellan who approached it. "Yo, first question!" He spoke at the face beyond the door. It rumbled, before speaking. "When was this keep rebuilt?" Aston looked closer at one of the bloody pages, it seemed to have a timeline, and he traced his fingers over the more pertinent bits. 705 – Battle of Whitebay where the forces of Akrazur join to help Zythia against Salvakoryn, Tyrrus emerges victorious. In revenge Salvakoryn burns down the Everwood and almost destroys the Kingdom of Everwood 706 – Cthuth's forces from the Izir desert invade Fogwarden Keep, General Wintermist is killed and the keep is burned down. More forces from Izir attack the Eastern Pass but the White King stops them. 707 – Peace treaty formed, Akrazur creates eternal storms around the Secluded Sea, other dragonlords promise to never again invade the lands of Zythia, wartime reconstruction begins "Hmm... Come look at this everyone. See if we can figure out something." Aedan backed away as it came to pieces in front of them. Sanderson had managed to take it down - At least, he thought. He wasn't entirely sure what just happened. The Druid panted, his face pale and his face was covered in the cold sweat of fear. He stared at the broken form, seemingly gazing off into an infinite distance. His head swam. He couldn't understand what just happened in front of them, the fact that it nearly killed them. It radiated cold. It wasn't right. It should be dead, yet it moved. He looked up at Sanderson, still shocked. "What was that thing Sanderson?" He saw that Bryce was faring little better. Neither of them had prepared for this. "If you hadn't been here..." He couldn't say the words. He couldn't tell him that if he wasn't there, they'd be dead.
Carissa saw the bolt go into Rose's side, but apparently it wasn't going to stop the assassin. Of course it's not enough! Internally, she groaned, exasperated with the whole situation. Rose was charging towards her, and she had a perfect chance. The Huntress loaded the last explosive bolt she had into her crossbow and pointed at the ground in front of her and threw herself backwards. Rose was too close now to avoid the shaped explosive. As she fell back, she saw Onamakritos spraying flames and a shout, lost in the explosion of the bolt as it hit the ground. As she fell to the floor again, bullets pierced her left shoulder and her right thigh from behind and she cried out in pain. She landed hard, her shoulder ached and coming at them from behind was none other than Jayce Reaver. Her face hardened. She forced her arm to move, placing a precious immuno-collapse bolt into her crossbow. "Make sure that b*tch doesn't get up!" Carissa screamed, her ears ringing from the close detonation of the explosive bolt. She rolled over and got up to one knee, forcing herself through the pain. For Jaden! Corruption Rating: 40% "It's the end for you now, Lancer." Kalak stated, before rushing in. The timely arrival of his uncle was going to make the whole affair much easier. Now that the man couldn't stand properly, he was going to be easy prey. He spawned a pair of Shadow Lances again, firing one from the front of Reitan and the other from behind. The Demi-God launched a vicious assault on him, now content to rain blows with Duskfall. His mobility was gone, and he was guaranteed to fall. His enemy would tire, mistakes would be made and his defences would fail. That was all that he needed.
Adolin smiled at the two of them after they said that they were going to join his cause. The girl was right - This time they were going to do it properly. No pointless moves, no half measures. This time, they were going to take it to the very top, and nothing was going to stop them. It was however, going to be a complicated process. He thought about the alchemist that supplied them. He was going to become very useful in the days to come. "To start with, I need to go leave a note for a friend. She has something we're going to need in the future, but she can't come with us. She'll hate me for what we're about to do. Then, we need to use your friend. If you seem to think that she can help, then enlist her. We need everyone we can get if we're to pull this off. Ultimately, we're going to need to pull as many Dopplers out of Novigrad as we can. After that..." Adolin thought for a moment. "We're going to need to find anyone we can from Oxenfurt. If we can get more Dopplers, that'll be good. Once we have a sizeable force, we'll make our move." He explained. It was a little touch and go frankly, but he hadn't exactly planned the entire thing out. This was only sparked by his recent... Inspiration given by the king. As soon as Derrick heard Skellige, his eyes narrowed. Talk of lost magics, and the marks on her back that resembled bear claws. He already knew what was coming. He had read about them, and heard the stories of Witchers who had faced them down. He even knew a raider from Skellige who claimed that he had seen one of them, and mentioned something about their Druids. "I've not had the misfortune personally, but I know the tales of the Vildkarrls." He was beginning to put things together. The only person who would have bothered explaining that to her was someone who obviously gave a damn. He also couldn't help but note that she mentioned bandits, and he began to put together a story that would perhaps explain her. Her expression called back to darker days. He knew people. He wouldn't pry into the horrors that he sensed. "Was it Alastar? Pardon the assumption, but from the tales I've heard no ordinary Berserker would be so considerate as to stop when savaging someone. If you could ever call a Berserker ordinary."
Despite their disagreements about certain things, Corvo and Luce ultimately managed to prepare themselves for what they had to do. The Inquisitor inscribed several bullets with Runes of Acceleration, and a handful with Runes of Fire and Runes of Pain. He gave Runes of Acceleration to the bolts he was carrying with him. While only a handful, he supposed that they should do nicely. He was preparing for trouble, not a full scale siege. They'd need more if they were going to do anything more meaningful. However, he wasn't willing to go out there without considering the possibility of the negotiations with the rebel faction breaking down. He didn't speak much to Luce during this time. Neither of them were going to be too talkative he sensed. They both had things to prepare. "I'm ready. You?" He asked as he finished. Once she was done, he gave her a businesslike nod and slung his crossbow across his back with his quiver of bolts hanging on his left hip. His Contender was strapped across his chest in the folds of his coat with his ammunition along his belt and across the bandolier. They left his hotel room, mostly in silence as they made their way towards the Institute. As they drew closer, the Inquisitor dropped a text to Roxanne. We're heading to the Institute. Need to talk to the people inside. It's important. Shortly after he had sent the text, the pair drew close the Institute. Corvo turned the corner to reach the street that the Institute lay on, and froze, eyes wide. The Seelie Queen was here, and she was snaking vines to capture a variety of people in front of the Institute, all of them Downworlders. He rushed around the corner and pulled Luce with him if she had turned as well. "Oh hell." Corvo hissed, unsettled by her sudden appearance. He pulled out his phone and sent another text. "Keep back." Don't go to the Institute. Under attack. He peered around the corner, watching, trying to reveal as little as possible. He could only pray that her magic did not permit her to see him somehow, despite her back being to him. He hadn't planned for this.
After the meeting with the nobility, the Emperor retired to a chamber somewhere inside the Imperial Palace. The room was lit by a large candelabra in the centre of the room, beneath which stood a table with books, maps and papers scattered across it. The corners of the room were cast into shadows by the bookshelves that filled the rest of the room. Upon closer inspection, one would see reports dating back hundreds of years, reference materials on factions both present and past and a comprehensive history of the territories of Nilfgaard. It was a library of information that the Emperors would need. Inside the room stood the Emperor with two of his most trusted advisors, and certain members of the Imperial Guard who he knew could be trusted. They stood there in their armour, expressionless in their visored helmets, armour black and trimmed with gold. Cahir was the last into the room, having kept the other two waiting while he finished up his business with the nobility of the country that day. The head of Nilfgaardian Intelligence, Declan Aedd Aenye had told him that there was an urgent matter to attend to in the North, something that they might wish to consider. Naturally, he had summoned Artorias who was always a pillar of wisdom and now they met in the chamber. "Your Imperial Majesty." Declan bowed. The Emperor gave his old friend a smile. He was a couple of years younger than the Emperor, with similar black hair that tumbled down to his shoulders. He was cleanly shaven. The other man in the room was clad in elegant robes with a high collar, a long beard on his face - An intentional image of wisdom. "Your majesty." Spoke one of the few sorcerers still alive in Nilfgaard. To him, Cahir nodded and assumed his place at the table. Only one man was missing, but General Joachim Caerme aep Ymladda was excused. He had a war to settle. All of that was in good time and this new development might change their plans a little, combined with the plans that the Emperor was aware of. "I am glad to see you assembled here. Before we go on, protocol is still in effect. This is not a casual meeting." The reminder was aimed towards Declan, who had the occasional habit of forgetting that they were not children any more and their long-standing friendship starting from childhood did not permit him to overstep his bounds. Otherwise, he was a tirelessly loyal, intelligent and therefore ideal for his position. "Agent Declan, you have something that needs to be brought to my attention?" The head of intelligence cleared his head and pushed an envelope over to Cahir. "Yes, Emperor. This letter." The Emperor of Nilfgaard picked it up, removing the letter from its container and read it through quickly, then replaced the letter in its envelope. "I see. We have an opportunity here. The Doppler population of the North is being oppressed by Archon, and following an uprising in Oxenfurt the city was overrun by monsters." Cahir frowned and stroked his chin, considering what to do about this. "We have allies clearly. If we can unite these Dopplers with us, then we can make use of them in our efforts. Aedd Aenye, we have a garrison in the North do we not?" "Yes, we do. Do you propose that we direct them there?" Declan asked. He nodded. "Precisely. These Dopplers can stand with us. If they seek their freedom and are willing to fight for it, then I am more than happy to lend my assistance. They will have a freer world when we take the country from their king. Speaking of our operatives, I presume that Milosh is doing well?" He inquired. "Yes my Emperor. In his latest report, it would appear that he has taken Crow's Perch and is making a nuisance of himself in the lands of Velen." He nodded approvingly. "Good. It seems that Redania is in chaos. It will fall to a stronger power than their King to restore order. That is where we step in. It will be easy, when many of their problems are puppets dancing on our strings." "If I may Emperor, then we should tread lightly around Milosh. He has ambitions of his own." Cahir nodded understandingly. "Yes, but he does not have an Empire. We do. If he proves troublesome and works outside of our interests as our puppet then..." He needed not finish his sentence. They knew exactly what their Emperor was suggesting. None of them could think of a reasonable counterargument to the point. Declan broke the following silence. "Sir, what of the Oxenfurt trouble?" "I will inform General Caerme aep Ymladda of it, and instruct him to avoid the city. It will be a costly sink of resources and one that can wait until we have established power in the North for ourselves. Once Redania lies in our control, we can send in the army to purge the city as best we can. Perhaps we should consider re-instituting an order of Witchers if it proves to require specialists. However, I suspect that the army will suffice, so long as we are careful." The soldiers offered no resistance when Ellyn returned. They had seen her ride out with one of theirs and presumed that she was coming back for a reason. Ardal was mustering up his group, directing the soldiers to get their equipment. Gordon and Matilda were standing around watching, unsure of what to do. Both of them stood close to each other. It was one of the only comforts that they had left, given that their previous lives had been destroyed. They saw Ellyn ride in and Gordon approached, glad of her return. Inadvertently, she had saved his life, and she was doing everything that she could to help them. He admired her. She was a real hero. Ardal turned to look at her, then nodded. "I trust your judgement. Follow me." Ardal nodded and looked to Gordon and Matilda. "Stay there, Ellyn and I will be back soon. We've got to see the general." Gordon nodded. "Don't be too long Ardal." Matilda called. Gordon knew that she was feeling insecure, and rightfully so. She loved him, and she was going to need him. Ellyn and Ardal walked through the Niflgaardian camp until they reached the command tent. There were halted by two soldiers kitted in plate armour and wielding halberds. "What business do you have with the General, Corporal? Who is this?" One spoke in Nilfgaardian. The Corporal saluted respectfully. "I bring someone to speak to the General. It is urgent business concerning a nearby village." He replied. The one that hadn't spoken looked inside the tent and nodded to someone inside. The general emerged then. His hair was cut so short you could see his scalp and he appeared to be an older man, perhaps in his fifties. He looked at Ardal, then at Ellyn. He looked at them. "You'd best come in." He spoke. "I daresay I know who you are, the General informed me you may appear." He beckoned the two of them into the command tent where he sat them down around a table. The other staff looked at them curiously, as this was quite the irregularity. However, the were not going to question it. "Tell me, what brings you here? And proof, if you will." Meanwhile, in Novigrad... "And they were devils I tell ya!" The Dwarf Wilfred Hoover stood upon a table, beside him sat Boenn Cerbin, his Aen Seidhe companion. "The leader o' tha' pack o' nightmares, was a man! Ragged robes, mask an' hat! He stood upon the well an' spoke to us! An' when we denied him, he unleashed 'em. Bodies. Walking. The skin rotting of their bones even as they tore the villagers to shreds. Me friends died back there. I lived by running through me forge, cutting one down at the legs and beheading it. Another one, covered in boils and pustules like some diseased thing tried ta catch me, but I jammed a polein it and it didnae get close!" He didn't mention how close it did get. He didn't want them to think he was infected with whatever horrid disease it was carrying. "Boenn here didnae live in Pontarsfork itself, but in the forest outside. He's a hunter. He got me outta there, pulling me away in me despair. But I tell all of ya right here, beware him. Beware the Deathbringer. Beware his walking corpses. Bury yer dead well, or burn 'em. I fear that he'll do the same to the village, making them inta monsters, and then what? Who knows where he'll come next?" "If you know anyone in villages nearby, send them a warning about what's coming. We don't know where they've gone, but they could strike out again." Boenn added, giving a less dramatic and more prudent bit of advice. Derrick groaned, waking up again after a rest in the surgery that they had holed up in after they arrived. His back was much better. His metabolism had closed the wound, but as he moved it twinged. He wasn't going to be wanting to do anything too stressful. Reaching to his back, he could feel the raw, tense scar flesh where it had scraped him along the back. He was going to have a lasting memory of that encounter in the form of three large scars. He decided to opt out of a shirt for now, not particularly wanting to cause himself unnecessary discomfort while they were still inside. Not far from him, he could see Treasa in a cot not dissimilar. As she moved around, he saw scars in the shape of claw marks across her bare back. He squinted, not entirely sure whether he had seen that right. He knew full well that those were not from the encounter with whatever the hell it was. He grimaced. Whatever did it, it must have hurt like hell. Since they were both in such ****** conditions, and were recovering, he whistled to get her attention. He was going to find out. "Hey, Treasa! You alright over there?" He called, making the basic check to ensure that she was okay. Hopefully that blow to the head hadn't done too serious damage and she was back in form. "Just noticed something. Claw marks, on your back. Looks like some wild animal did you in a while ago." He sat up so he could pay attention. Adolin saw that Tessa was furious and she stormed off. He watched with a raised eyebrow as she spoke, vaguely amused but he sensed that this was a long time coming. The impression that he got from this rather self-righteous group was that she needed taking care of. From what he could tell, she was old enough to make her own decisions and clearly wanted to have that freedom. It wasn't his place to intervene, but apparently things were getting out of hand and these were people that he might actually need. He followed after them and before she could get too far he clamped a hand on Tessa's shoulder. "Fool girl. What are you going to achieve by going out there?" He demanded. He spun her around by her shoulder so that she faced him, then put his other hand on her shoulder. "I know what it's like to lose. My parents were killed by a Witcher for no other reason than they were a Doppler. But instead of charging after him when I was young, I waited. I grew older, I nursed my vengeance and prepared. I sought him out, and found him." He gestured to the swords on his back. "I killed him. Wait, prepare, and then we strike. Rushing headlong against a force that is beyond you alone will only waste your life." Adolin spoke, impassioned. "Instead, hold your anger and nurse its flame. I brought justice against Carrak of Cintra, and against the whole Witcher order. I'm tired of seeing our kind slaughtered for no reason. Did you see Oxenfurt? They did it wrong. They didn't go big enough." He looked around to see if anyone was nearby. He couldn't see anyone that could be a danger. "Help me. Get your friend here too. Let's find the Dopplers of Novigrad, save who we can and strike out. We'll visit the villages, gathering as many as we can and we'll make an army. And then we'll fight back. Don't waste your life now. There's so much more you can do with your life. I'm going to need allies. I can't do this alone." His voice became insistent. He had to unite who he could. The killings were going to come, and there was no way of stopping that. All he could do was try to make the most of the people that were there that he could save. "So, what'll it be?"
Kellan gave Steven (Kevin) a quizzical look and held his arms out in a 'What the hell are you talking about?' gesture. "You look like a horse trampled all over you, you dumb sh*t. You can't take on the Burning Blade if you got your ass handed to you by a couple of thugs." He shook his head disapprovingly, but luckily everyone else here was much more intelligent than Kevin. "You guys actually have a hope of getting in with the password, glad that the rest of you are smart enough to see that you're going to get destroyed. Especially you New Guy." He gestured to Roric. Baldomar, he just shook his head. He was still trying to pull the 'I don't know what you mean' card. Some things never changed. "Follow me then." He led them through the Keep. They soon arrived at the problem that the Burning Blade had encountered. The corridor was blocked by a stone gateway, carved with intricate patterns that historians would examine for hours, establishing styles and the era it was constructed in. However, nobody there was a historian really, so enough on the doorway. The gate itself was made of stone, and notably in the centre of it about 6 foot off the ground was a window of iron bars. Beyond it, a face with an orange glow coming through the eyes could be seen. Around the corridor here, bodies could be seen laying down in various degrees of disarray. Notably, next to one robed figure lay a book. As they got near, a deep voice echoed from the other side of the door. "All those who seek passage will provide proof of loyalty to Janus Wintermist." Its gazed turned on them. "Answer my questions, and you shall be permitted passage." "Sounds like we're going to need some information. Check through that book over there, we might find something." Aston suggested. "Bryce!" Aedan cried, seeing the Drake's jaws clamp down on the arm of the warrior. How did this happen? The dead coming to life? Bryce... Bryce is in danger... Why can't I do anything...? The Druid pressed himself against the wall, an expression of despair on his face. He was never one for fighting, and he had never prepared himself to do any. That wasn't his part to play. All Aedan had ever wanted was peace, and to create harmony as in the village. That was his role. He even mediated with the savage drake outside, but this was beyond him now. What could he do? He watched Bryce's heroic struggle with the shambling skeletal creature. He felt sick. The scent of death reeked, and his entire universe was upturned as the impossible became possible in an instant. And his friend was going to die. Could he accept that? His knuckles whitened as he clasped his staff. A tear rolled down Aedan's cheek. How could he just stand there and let this happen? Did a mother stand idly by while its cubs were slain? Did animals meekly accept their fates? Should he? He had to try. He had to do something. Even if that something was very little, maybe he could last long enough to make a bit of a difference. "No!" He howled, rushing the Drake and raising his staff. He beat its head with the stave. He struck it twice, doing the only thing that he could. "Get away from him! Get away!" Aedan moved diagonally right next to the Drake and Bryce (2/10 AP) He struck the Drake twice with his staff (10/10 AP)
He smirked and shrugged. "It was merely a suggestion, you can pay off the debt differently if you so wish. Just because such items are common to you, here these things are not so much. And I doubt your people can reach Xanatos Reaver himself, which this can. You'll pay our price for it, or you'll receive nothing at all." He led her through the base to a bunker on the other side. Two metal doors slid aside as they walked towards it, the people manning the door recognising the face of the Inheritor. The deeper inside they went, the more soldiers followed as their retinue and after descending a flight of metal stairs, they arrived in a large room sunk into the ground. Myriad machinery occupied the immense space and it was divided in places by large metal walls that allowed sections to function as individual rooms for testing purposes. "As you can see, there's still some work to be done, but this is our frontline research and development facility. The one in Sarn is much, much more impressive." Bare rock was showing through some of the walls and the place was alive with the sound of grinding machinery and work crews creating proper walls towards that side. They were met by the same scientist from earlier who led them eagerly through the bustling chamber into a divided off section. He noticed jamming towers in operation, presumably to stop any unwanted signals escaping. The men that had followed them, now numbering ten lined the walls. In the centre of the room, on a metal pedestal stood the crystal. A wire leading from it ran to the desk that sat near the entrance, at which the man who had greeted them had taken place with his finger over the button. "On your orders, Inheritor." He spoke. Jaden held up a hand and looked to the Princess. "We'll organise your payment later. Start thinking about how you expect to do it. For now, we have a legend to see." Jaden assumed central position, allowing his commanding presence to fill the room and nodded to the man to start. Rose rushed her, impatient to draw blood. She knew that Onamakritos was going to be right there to give support. Even as Rose approached, she retreated. Rose had also made her trajectory predictable. Foolishly, she made a rolling move towards her. That meant that she knew exactly where she was going to be. She fired a bolt from her crossbow as Rose got up from her manoeuvre. The Huntress had put distance between the two, making Rose's attack ineffective, merely slashing at the air. Is this how the infamous Black Rose fights? Such an amateur. The other woman's shouts did not put her off. She was calling to the Demi-God. Well he was too far away to hear, and he was a little preoccupied. Corruption Rating: 40% Kalak heard Jayce coming, and his mouth curled into a wolfish grin. The tables were turned. The beast was now distracted, racing for Jayce to try and stop him hurting the machine. He formed a pair of Shadow Lances and fired them off at her. She was a being of dark magic, that much Vasher could see, but even dark magic did not make her immune to the metal that he forged with his power. He was positive that his uncle could handle those two, leaving him to deal with Reitan alone. "Give up Lancer. You'll be treated fairly as a prisoner." He made the offer. If he could secure one surrender, then it meant that he could help his Uncle and not worry about the annoying spearman.
He saw her facial expression change as soon as he mentioned the opportunity to see Xanatos. Apparently she was very, very attached to the past. He understood now, why she wanted to try to put Aidan into him. She framed it as a bid for power but really, he thought that she just wanted her Aidan Samarost back. Well it wasn't going to happen. He was not going to live out his life as the vessel to a man who died before he could finish what he had started. That duty fell to Jaden. However, the present situation created some opportunities. "Of course, I understand. Who am I to keep you from reuniting with an old friend?" He spoke, his question quite obviously rhetorical. "But you owe me for this Calxiyn. Your debt will be a great one. As great as the trouble that we went through to get this opportunity. You could of course, pay some of it off by cancelling that foolish challenge of yours. It's a waste of time. We wouldn't be able to ask as much of you then. I certainly wouldn't consider demanding your entire army join mine as part of the price if you were to do so." He naturally did not mention the fact that they had bought this priceless item for probably much less than it was actually worth in Sarnic Royals. It looked like he was going to get some excellent value from that deal. Political leverage and a tool to perhaps uncover a route to the man himself, and some answers about the true events of the time. This was getting to be far, far more interesting. "Very well my lord. If you'll excuse me, I'll make the final preparations." The Lieutenant set off and ensured that all the directives that Zahariel had seen to were given. The officers were given a final reminder of their duties and their forces had been arranged. Now it was a matter of waiting. Corenna waited in the command centre of the camp amongst the radio operators and other staff that remained inside with an anxious look. Their new CO had set him on edge, and he wasn't quite used to the entirely different style of command that they were taking up now. Corruption Rating: 38% She saw Onamakrtios go red as soon as he put his hand on her. She rolled her eyes and groaned irritably. She had to put up with enough of this sh*t with Aster. "It's only my goddamned stomach you teenaged idiot!" She punched the shuttle and looked around. She saw Timothy sprinting off with... Someone she didn't actually know. She was injured, and she definitely wasn't one of theirs. As she watched, she saw an all too familiar figure in pursuit. "Hurry up! You're coming with me! Our prisoner is escaping! Damn it, I thought Jaden had prepared better than this!" Once her wound was finished being sealed, a tear of pain rolled down her cheek as she attempted to make no audible or facial signs of distress. She picked up her crossbow and ran after them. "Come on! Those two will not get away now!" She loaded her crossbow and raced after them. She soon spotted them, following the robot's footprints in the nearby sand dune. One was definitely injured, and Rose might not be doing so well. That would make their job a hell of a lot easier. She saw Rose trying to treat Teliana's injuries. "Don't move you two! Nice try Rose. I need to say thanks to Timothy for leading us here. I see you're both injured. Don't put up a fight. We won't hurt you if you just surrender." She sneered. "Much. Don't worry, we'll look after you. Wouldn't want our prisoners to die on us, would we?" The Demi God's body neatly dodged the attack, just as predicted. "Too slow." He uttered. He didn't have much time to tackle Reitan alone however, as the bizarre demon woman flew at him in a rage. Already moving backwards, it was easy to keep the momentum going and dance aside with a swing of Duskfall as he stepped neatly aside. She was the more formidable of the two. In a long engagement, the lancer would fall as his human body gave up and the body of this Demi-God kept him going. Compared to the Ancient powers that Vasher invested into Kalak's superhuman frame, very little would stand against him when initiating a full on assault. He assumed a defensive stance again, ready to parry any attack from Reitan and dodge the demonic figure that the Shards had now employed against them. He waited for them to come. He relished the opportunity for the kill. Once the opening was made, it would be over.
"I see... This is bad." He put his right hand on his chin thoughtfully as she told him that Yorick had taken her Iron as well. That boded ill for them. With the Seelie Queen bewitching Yorick, it wasn't hard to come to the conclusion that something was badly wrong. The Seelie Queen didn't want them to stop her, or he didn't want them to stop her. Either way, it was bad. He was siding with a Downworlder over his own race for the sake of summoning the angel . "That would make sense. It's consistent with the sudden lack of iron. We're going to need to find an alternative somewhere." What she was saying was bad news, but the longer she spoke the worse his horror became. At the statement of him having killed the Clave, the Inquisitor backed up, nearly falling on to his chair but holding his hand out to steady himself. "No... I don't want to believe this but... I have no choice." His voice quivered. Corvo was stunned to his very core. He took his seat, then closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. "If Yorick has indeed murdered the Clave as you say, then he is a traitor. As Inquisitor, it is my duty to render judgement. Yorick will die." His face became stern and he got up again, walking around to the wardrobe and looking at his crossbow. He had an objective, and now he had a greater enemy. The traitors against the Clave needed to be brought back into the fold. If they would stand with him in opposing Yorick, he would forgive them for their trecheary. "I have one question for you - Why did you not report this to me earlier?" He fixed her with the glare he reserved for those that he questioned when doing his job. "If you had reported these actions, then perhaps we could have avoided this situation getting so out of hand. Now Yorick is in the Seelie Queen's lair, and he will be harder to reach than ever. If I had known while he was in Alicante, then this could have been dealt with far more easily. With the rest of the Council out of action, that leaves me as the only body capable of rendering judgement." And judgement will be rendered. I have a mission now. The situation is not quite under control, but it is certainly known. I have an enemy, and I know some of the game pieces. Alarick Lightwood may still be useful - He needs protecting. These Downworlders must be protected so that their plan cannot continue. The Seelie Queen has the Seelie Knights, and we don't have an effective weapon just yet. But that may come with time. A smirk crossed his face. "We can't do this alone of course. Taking on the Seelie Queen will be difficult, and Yorick is with her. No, we must put together a force capable of fighting them, reaching them, and dealing with them permanently." He explained. "Luckily, I know just the group of traitors who might be needing an official pardon from an Inquisitor. I'm not much loved there, but I'm confident that at least some of them will listen to reason in this case. Besides, despite her present condition I believe that Brianne Lightwood believes in the order of Shadow Hunters. I don't think she will reject us. We just have to get to them before they do anything rash." His body language seemed to have changed massively from earlier. Despite his somewhat haggard appearance, the Inquisitor held himself tall and proud, straight backed and ready to fight. He offered her a hand to shake. "Will you join me in this Luce?"
