rp thread [Round 6] A Shrouded Place

[Jadetarem]

"The Omega do not consume food for calories and cannot taste, so I will defer to your expertise." Kor finally got up, some rasp still in the servos but moving far more easily than he had been. Striding carefully to Robert, he placed one forearm before him. "Bite this, and do not scream." His other hands began to glow...

[BladeofOblivion]

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and complied. It was a long night, but by the end of it the worst of his wounds were treated and covered with makeshift bandages, and they had the beginnings of a plan.

Hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. After two months at sea, Robert's beard and hair had grown long and unruly, and he'd lost a fair bit of weight - some from sickness, but mostly from poor nutrition. The worst of his sickness passed in the first two weeks, and he was able to regain enough of his strength. A month in he dared to strike the dwarf in response to his taunts and was promptly dragged out and beaten for it, then thrown back into the bilges an hour later...but that dwarf did not return, replaced by someone else, a she-dwarf this time, with a - however marginally - less cruel disposition. They forced him to work, and on his days out, he returned armed with more knowledge than before, sharing with Kor his observations regarding the numbers and strength of the crew, a few looks at their spark-wands, and the Tempest-Runner themselves, who now sported an eyepatch. Whatever passed for medicine on board this ship had been unable to save the eye. Slowly too he picked up bits of the language, and understood that they were attempting to groom him to pass as a better slave when arriving at port. He played along.

For Kor's part, he played the part of a motionless wreck of structural value but little more. Though pirates coming down to check on the bilges occasionally spared him a second glance, thinking for a moment he might be in a different position than yesterday, over and over they managed to convince themselves it was a trick of the light.

Finally, sixty-three days into the harrow, the ship dropped anchor at its destination, the Port of Crying Coves. The pirates returned to the bilges this time in greater numbers than usual, and seemingly trusted in their training thus far to bind Robert's wrists only with rope. For Kor's part, they brought a large fishing net and attempted to throw it over his wreck, with intent to drag the 'scrapheap' up to the deck.

Edited July 8, 2023 by BladeofOblivion (see edit history)

[Jadetarem]

Kor continued to maintain his 'offline' charade. Fishing net would not hold him in an emergency, and the more the pirates exhausted themselves hauling around his considerable mass, the better.

Edited July 8, 2023 by Jadetarem (see edit history)

[BladeofOblivion]

It's undignified, but nevertheless the pirates seem content to haul a 'prize' out of there and fail to see anything that might give Kor away. The mixed group of dwarves, humans, and a pair of Utui takes the pair up to the deck, and from there they can see Crying Coves in all its glory - an almost cheery port city overlooked by a pair of arched waterfalls that almost resembled a pair of stone eyes if one squinted and granted sufficient poetic license. Led down a gangplank onto the pier, Kor quickly recognized the Tempest-Runner, though now in better lighting - that same lithe, clean-faced Utui in a tattered cloak arrayed in gold tassels as before, now with longer hair, a tricorn hat, and an eyepatch covering what must be a terribly gruesome scar. No war paint this time - just a natural pale blue skin tone.

The pirates seemed a little surprised to see the commander waiting for them.

"Come. These two are for Dreadlove. We have lost too many for our plunder - a gift will be required to soothe his temper."

The pirates looked at each other, their reactions suggesting that this was a change of plans, but they feared or respected the Tempest-Runner too much to protest.

[Jadetarem]

Kor, even now, maintained his corpse effect, but now the Omega actively searched for any point in this journey where the number of enemies might be at its smallest. He already knew his opening gambit, too...

[BladeofOblivion]

A group of a half-dozen assorted pirates and the Tempest-Runner traveled through the Crying Coves up the main thoroughfare, toward a great wreck of an enormous ship somehow speared on a spire of stone in the distance, with a gangplank one could march three horses side-by-side up.

There were so many people here, in numbers and density rivaled only in places like Emerald Root, but what dwarfed even the people was the birds. Many hundreds or even thousands of colorful, feral birds traveled in packs from rooftop to rooftop of the buildings, playing in the sun and making terrible rackets with their squawking and off-kilter singing alike. Some hawked "trained" examples that almost could hold a tune or loudly demand food in various languages in cages, while others simply threw rocks at the biggest concentrations of them in the vain hope for some temporary peace. So too did they pass by conventional slave markets where choice captives from raided regions were already being displayed, and salvagers hawking bits of novel metal that might have come from an advanced machine at some point. That last group looked at Kor with great interest and tried to make offers as the Tempest-Runner passed, only to be silenced with a glare.

One of the pirates laughed. "What paltry offers. They have to know that they could get far more coin from The Spider or any captain inclined to collect antiquities than that for an automechanical this intact." The Tempest-Runner silenced her too with a glare.

"Do not get ideas. These are tribute for this Captain. Lose them and I will offer you up instead."

Finally an opportunity came at the edge of the gangplank where the crowd thinned out somewhat - the Tempest-Runner ordered the group to wait, except for two of their compatriots who would accompany them to the captain's cabin. This left only four pirates properly guarding the pair - and their attention was entirely on Robert.

[Jadetarem]

Now down to four opponents, Kor understood that this was the last, best chance he was going to get. Gripping the net with all four hands, he pulled, tearing the net along the path of the weakest links. The sheer impossibility of the machine returning to life - and quite swiftly for a thing they'd last seen frozen - was the second of shock needed for Kor to set one pirate on fire and grab two more. Robert, having likely been awaiting this moment with far more enthusiasm than the Omega, immediately strangled the third as his conspirator squeezed until a crackling noise was heard. Robert took the opportunity to swipe a discarded blade, cutting his own bindings before finishing off the burning man.

And then they were loose! "We must move with all alacrity to the docks. We will need navigational aids, maps, and a willing crew. The last will be the most difficult... unless we can find them among the slaves. You said you were a great leader of your people. Can you initiate a revolt?"

[BladeofOblivion]

The man frowns, flexing the rope burns on his wrists slightly and weighing the knife idly. "I can try. We traveled mostly north and east, as I have gathered. We should be going west." He begins to stride in the general direction of the harbor, right down the main thoroughfare. "There were captives this way."

The crowd had since noticed the brawl, and most were already starting to move away from the scene rather than get involved in whatever gang skirmish had just broken out here. Atop the gangplank though, a group of better-armed pirates in unfamiliar livery had already begun to assemble, and some eight-foot-tall horror of meat and hair loosely-garbed in a naval coat stood up behind them, with the Tempest-Runner at their left side. Okay, really time to go.

The pair moved through the market like a wrecking ball in search of something to use, leaving chaos in their wake as the crowd clearly wanted nothing to do with whatever was happening here. After a mad dash they reached the Slave Pit Robert had previously identified, where a group of labor and pleasure slaves alike were thrown into a large pen and two dozen slavers by Robert's count - armed with blades or spears and armored with boiled leather - were on guard. The pair had lost the initial surge of what passed for the law in a pirate port, with Dreadlove's crew not currently in sight, but surely they were still in pursuit.

"This is too many for me in my current state.", Robert announces quietly. "Do you have any ideas?"

[Jadetarem]

"Fire comes to mind. It is an ideal distraction - our enemies must contend with it even if they realize its purpose."

Kor suited action to words. The Burning Simurgh was long gone these few years, and Crying Cove wasn't exactly the warmest and driest place, but the Omega was still able to start enough of a sustained reaction to set the barracks alight. In retrospect, waterproofing it with an oil base had not been the wisest move. "We shall see how many wish to fight us while their livelihoods burn."

[BladeofOblivion]

True to his word, Kor set the barracks alight - even in the humidity, the smoke rose quickly and in a panic those inside flooded out, with most of the guards at the edges moving in - to put out the fire, though a few moved to attack Kor. Taking advantage of the distraction, Robert threw aside the bar holding the slave pen closed and threw the doors open.

"Friends, the machine and I have broken free of our captors and would break yours too! The docks are close, and we can sail! We can leave this place if you follow us! Nothing to lose but your chains!"

It seemed effective enough - though a few scattered off in random directions almost immediately and one refused to leave the pen in sheer fear, the man's strength and charisma seemed to sway most into taking a chance at freedom. There would be losses in any engagement, with most of this group unarmed and unarmored and completely untrained, but for the moment Kor and Robert had picked up around three dozen followers - plenty to crew a small ship. They'd have to figure out if any had relevant skills later, but there was hope.

Edited July 9, 2023 by BladeofOblivion (see edit history)

[Jadetarem]

Kor, with a looted blade and his own fists, battered through his attackers while marveling at Robert's own charisma and poetry. He'd made the same argument Kor would, but the machine would have said something that, by comparison, would probably have been thoroughly demoralizing. "Arm yourselves with the weapons of the fallen. Stab anyone who would bar your way. We seek a vessel fit for all of us, and it must be ready to sail. To the docks!"

[BladeofOblivion]

Robert, for his part, stops to headbutt an inadequately-armored slaver into complete senselessness before stealing their mace, and raising the weapon into the air!

"Yes! To the docks! Grab what protection you can and move as a group, but move!"

There weren't nearly enough weapons for all of them, but those who moved quickest for what was available were those best trained to use them anyway - those who could react quickly in a crisis. The commotion and the fire had thinned the crowd on the main thoroughfare at this point considerably, but this was a mixed blessing - the followers would slow them down considerably, and fewer incidental targets and light armor risked exposing them all to volley fire and other ranged retaliation.

 

Robert turned to the other hero, still walking but pacing himself so as not to lose the generally less laser-focused group of ex-slaves. "Kor, you are more mobile than I, and both resourceful and stealthy. Time is not on our side, and I intend to lead this group directly for the docks, stopping only to better arm and armor those who can fight. We still will require a bearing, whatever maps we can gather, and - ideally - a spare sailcloth. Their flame-magic is formidable and I doubt we will make it far on oars alone, even in a small cutter."

Robert proposes a divide-and-conquer plan: Kor can cover much more ground alone than in a mixed group, and every moment counts as Dreadlove's men and the Tempest-Runner try to catch up, not to mention any other responses from within the city as the initial burst of confusion dies down. The larger group can go faster without spending time looting shops and sundries.

[Jadetarem]

"Agreed, I will procure the necessary supplies."

[BladeofOblivion]

The Omega hero was indeed able to cover more ground alone than he would towing along a crowd, and he quickly found his way to Jolly Rogier's sundries. The woman at the counter (probably not Rogier?) whipped out a crossbow at the sight of someone entering with a drawn blade, but simply gaped at the moving automaton rather than firing. Kor retrieved a bundle of cloth that seemed like it might be suitable for sailmaking from the wall with little issue, but no two maps sold here matched. There was one of the island that the Crying Coves were located on though, which he took. Couldn't hurt.

Outside he was suddenly beset upon by a swarm of the omnipresent birds! Though he was able to scare them off with sufficient swatting and just a little fire, a green flame-bolt whizzed by not from the lady inside but from one of a pair of Dreadlove's men, burying itself in the brickwork to his left! Obviously much better trained and more elite than most of the rabble around here, both of these dwarven men wore layered silk and were armed with scimitars. One tossed a now-burning spark-wand aside and drew his weapon while calling out to some of his presumably nearby fellows, hoping that two-against-one would buy time to overpower the mighty machine!

---

Robert led his group into the alleys, trying to evade enemy ranged fire now starting to be deployed into the streets. Not burning, lest they spark an inferno in the market, but wooden shafts were plenty deadly to unarmored targets. The group successfully robbed a leatherworker's storefront, and those toward the outside of the mob threw on whatever coverings they could attach to themselves along with sharp leatherworking tools. They managed to stay ahead of the Tempest-Runner and the bulk of the pirate retaliation, for the moment.

[Jadetarem]

Kor saw no point in waiting for the reinforcements to show, nor in leaving more of those infernal spark-throwers at his back. He let out a mechanical, inhuman screech to rival the flock of birds he'd just blown through and charged, knocking aside vendor stalls with no heed to the protests of the merchants or the well-being of the produce.