Operation Gysahl
[RP] Ruy says, "It would appear that the operation is in motion, leaked though it may have been. Several objects have been seen falling from far above in the sky from a high-altitude airship, above the Aerodrome just off the Guild District...."
[Emberstrand]: Guild District
The Guilds of Emberstrand gather here, a long wide square cutting across the city from the bazaar down to the riverfront widening out in the centre to form a rotunda. Filling the centre of the square are seven tall crystal pillars, humming with an unearthly music as they catch the wind.
The great guild houses are all as different as they are imposing. The Hunter's Guild seems quite plain, situated on a side street, a plain granite front with stained glass windows, windows that display the great leaders of the clan, normally in combat with a monster of some kind.
The Mage's guild is slightly more impressive, a series of linked domes. Each one built from a different type of semi- precious stone. Rising around the domes are a series of towers. A tower for each school of magic, a tower of onyx, white marble, red carmeline, lapis-lazuli for blue. It is a beautiful building, the centre of magical learning and regulation in the city.
[Exits : [LV] La Verdadera Destreza Fencing School, [E] Bazaar, [S] Noble Quarter, [W] Promenade, [HG] Hunters' Guild, and [MG] Mages' Guild ] [Players : Celeste, and Marduke ] Archimedes has arrived. Zhgir has arrived. Ba'Naram has arrived. Eleven has arrived.
Six figures descend from above, clearly having fallen--or jumped--from the airship that can barely be seen, skirting the clouds very far above any possible reprisal. Five of them are in close formation, but a sixth is drifting slightly to one side.
And it was such a good day for cooking, until something fell and caused the lizard to miss where he was going and trip over then knock his giant pot of noodles onto the floor, breaking the bowl and ruining his meal, which really makes him grumpy because that was a lot of coin which he lost. Grumbling and wiping the noodles off of his boots, the lizard hefts up his cleaver and stalks towards the scene, grumbling again. "Garlic, chopped fish, and noodles, and they ruin it. And me. Ghhn." The lizard hisses, stalking forward and growling.
It is often the summoner finds himself wondering the city, it is here he finds himself coming to a stop on his walk. Mostly because this happens to be along his way heading home. Glancing up he watches for a moment as the figures are coming down the ropes and shakes his head. "I see." He does not hesitating at all, as he holds up his staff and starts to chant. The words of power forming four mystical balls of energy around him. Each one a icy blue as they start to circle, the air around the summoner becoming notically colder. Frost starts to form on his clothing as he holds up a hand, like he is inviting somebody to a formal dance, "Come forth." His voice soft, polite, "Lady of the court, Sharina." The orbs fly up into the air, and a being made of pure ice forms beside him. Holding his hand and offering a curtsey, Lady Sharina is all etiquette, "I accept, shall we dance?"
Eleven is looking around the Bazaar for anything interesting when it spots several things falling from the sky. "I wonder what those are, I will go see." It says to a vendor and starts jogging towards the Aerodome while rummaging around in it's toolbox. "It is exciting in the city." Gets called out when passing a group of gawkers.
Running along, Zhgir was nimbly dodging and weaving through the crowds with the familiar chime heralding his presence. First, with people yelling at him, stumbling after the arachnid - but soon enough, those voices fade away and even the poor thief realizes he was having way too easy time of it. Pausing, he looks towards the other people, and sliding a piece of meat into his meat, moves his gaze upwards towards the flying objects. He lifts up another piece into his mouth - whilst leaning closer towards a random passerby with his free hands, in a very nonshady manner.
Archimedes arrives as Burmecians are prone to do, via the rooftops. Having a little forewarning on the date allows him to arrive with a few bounds and strides from rooftop to rooftop, discrete as the architecture allows. For the moment he takes in the scene, ducked in the shades of a belfry, his reliable rifle slung over his shoulder. "Crafty wasps, but wasps nonetheless. What are they looking to bite this time..." He mutters to himself, gaze flickering around the street. Foes and friends to watch alike.
Things falling from the sky? Well, that would certainly be cause for concern; if Celeste had noticed. Which, in fact, she has not. Instead, the mouse warrior is meandering about, mostly just passing through; her shield and spear are slung across her back, and she wears a proud look on her face, completely unaffected by the juice running down her chin from the mango she is eating. "What're y'all gorkin' at?" she asks, mostly to herself, as she notices more and more people looking upwards. Finally, she gets around to doing so herself. Her gaze turns upwards, and her eyes widen. "Is'a them lot again!" she snaps, dropping her partly eaten mango and pulling her shield off her back. "Y'ALL RUN!" she shouts, "IF YER AIN'T FIGHTIN', RUN!?" She attaches her shield to her left arm, before drawing her spear, and... lacking any knowledge on exactly where they will land, just planting her feet on the spot.
The last moments of the drop happen fast, the figures moving at terrible speeds. They are armored figures and large, and violent orange light pulses from the seams of their darkened metal. The five in formation fall near a large port on the roof of the Aerodrome, intended for disembarking skiffs, and slow suddenly, as if by magic. The sixth, however, seems to have veered slightly off-course, and lands on a moored airship on the other side of the Aerodrome. It also does not slow. Light bursts forth just below the point of impact, and a wall of solid sound follows it.
"Hhn." Grumble, grumble, hiss. The lizard holds a massive cleaver as he comes near, since its their fault (not the wine, not the fact the chair was in his way, and deffinitively not the fact that he had someone grab his tail as he walked by that made him jjump and fall forward and trip) that he missed his meal. Good food too. Carrying his cleaver, which in other species terms could be called: "An axe", the cook trundles his way forward and near a spider. This arachnid is looked at, the Bangaa snorting once, rudely, then continuing on. "And now they've got to bloody piss on my city. Hhnn. I'm going to kick their metal asses."
Marduke smiles to Sharina, then glances towards the large armored figures and sighs softly. "Always some new trick with them." Sharina glances to them as well, and sighs softly, "No grace, no elogance, and so much armor." Holding up her hands she breaths gently into it. A ball of swirling ice forming, and pointing towards the group of five the ice magic rushes forward. Yet it is not targeted at them, but at the ground they are standing on. Attempting to ice it over and make it slipery. A tatic to slow them down so people can get grouped up and ready.
Eleven comes to a stop and looks around at the people that aren't running away. "Did you all come to investigate as well? I would very much like to get hands on one of those!" It holds up a hand with a large wrench clenched in it, shaking it at the figured. Without thinking of the danger it starts walking towards the figures. "I am going to go take a closer look."
Zhgir's hands end up clutching thin air, as the person he was surreptiously leaning towards to suddenly bolts, hearing the mouse-warrior's cry in the distance. Swallowing hard, he clutches his hands into fists and gives them a firm shake, before with a heavy sigh swings his polearm into front of him. Though, then he sees the bangaa nearing him. And he instantly grins very widely. "Zhgir thinks the big leather head smells very nice," He says, hopping over the cook, "What, hrr, what's cooking?" He asks and the furred tufts jutting out from his quite burnt clothing raise as he follows the big lizard along, typically oblivious to the potentially dangerous situation.
Archimedes cautiously switches to another corner of the tower for shade and cover. He levels it against his shoulder and presses his eye snug to the scope, scanning across the armored figures as they descend. It's a fairly familiar sight, or at least similar to the last encounter. Minus certain amounts of orange crush. "Oop. Looks like it's starting," he murmurs, seeing Marduke take action. He casts a wry smile in his direction, even if it would be impossible to see from there. The Burmecian slips off to close distance and get a better vantage point. Some height, some cover, and a good field of vision... fortunately, the aerodome has at least two of those in abundance.
Speaking of a lack of grace and elegance, Celeste is on the move, once it becomes clear where the armored figures are going. "Y'all stick behind me, if'n yer ain' tough's nails," she calls to anyone else going inside as she, herself, makes her way into the aerodrome at a sustained sprint. Once inside though, she slows to a jog, and then to a much more cautious pace; the normally reckless mouse warrior opting for a more measured aproach, as she perks her ears up and gazes about herself, trying to pick out exactly where the armored warriors are.
The explosion from the failed landing leaves a gaping hole at the fore of the airship, and a black-armored figure, bloody and crumpled to the point of barely looking humanoid, can be seen dangling from it, leaking Mist. The moorings, twisted and weak, give way quickly, and the airship collapses to the ground, a pile of wreckage. The others, meanwhile, have entered the building proper through a skiff bay, and are now inside the Aerodrome.
"City. Fire. Airship. Was cooking noodles. Bastards distracted me, boom, burnt noodles, spilled, sad apprentice who has to clean up, and hungry Bangaa. Now someone has to pay for lost noodles. Thinking might try to add iron to diet, yesss?" A hiss, amusement, the Bangaa grins over at Zhgir in a 'OH god that's a lot of teeth' manner. At a loping, quick pace, the lizard begins to pick up speed, heading towards the building. This is just damn rude. He'll be entering inside shortly. "They ruin meal too? Hm. Bastards. I make you proper Noodles with Ahk and Meat-chunks. After this. They are rude. Crashing and making ships explode."
"They are after the airships, living bombs or suiciders. Terrorist tatics." Marduke offers, following along but keeping behind the group. A glance to the already destroyed airship and a shake of his head. Sharina follows along beside him, floating along the air. The edes of her dress, also made of ice, never touching the ground. She stays quiet, simply keeping her hands together as she collects energy. Though she does leave a trail of frost in her wake.
As Celeste moves past, Eleven compares the toughnes of bronze to steel trying to figure out how tough nails are. "My materails are not as tough as nails but I want to get a closer look and there one available for salvage." It puts the wrench away and follows the mouse inside, staying near the door and keeping distance to stay out of sword reach.
Zhgir continues to move along with the Bangaa, swirling his polearm over his shoulders. "Make sure it's raw," He quips, "No time fo r seconds." Nearing the Aerodome, the anarchid very quickly looks for ways to get some highground, climbing up along any supports or crevices he can get his hands upon. Even, if it happened to be the bangaa. Or more likely, Eleven.
Archimedes's heart sinks a bit as he sees the ship go down. A brief flash of response and rescue through his mind. Determine hazards. Clear the area. Neutralize threats. No, that's for the hangar crew. Right now he needs to support the others and take these five unknown assailants down. Apparently minding the shop hasn't softened him up; quite the opposite, really. There's more meat and spring to his movements these days. He pauses a bit in view of Celeste & the others outside, giving a quick flick of a salute from above, complete with a single shiny gilder between his fingers before finding his own opening to the dome. It just needs to be briefly visible. He'll be watching and supporting from the skies... and if past incidents are any example, may find himself right in the fray soon enough.
Celeste glances over her shoulder, noting that she isn't alone in this endeavour, and nods to those who are also daring to come inside. The warrior's gaze quickly returns to what is in front of her, however, as she resumes her stride deeper into the aerodrome. "C'mon," she mutters. "Show y'selves... dun' be shy." Her grip tightens on the haft of her spear, and she keeps her shield raised and at the ready. As she moves, she takes a moment to focus inwards, limbering her muscles up for the upcoming fight, stretching and flexing. ) [Spoofed By: Celeste]
Inside, the building is open, a large ticket counter at the center and stairs leading to two balconies that ring the entire Aerodrome. Smaller docks dot the upper balcony, a few housing the smaller skiffs, while access tunnels which lead out to the larger airships pock the lower; smoke is billowing from one of these, perhaps not surprisingly. A heavy blast of lightning suddenly tears into a parked and vacant skiff on the upper level, opposite the entrance; the fragile vehicle tears apart, splinters scattering. The few people huddled there get up quickly and run, panic-gripped.
"EVERYONE OUT!" THe Bangaa bellows, shouting loud and stalking in through the front door - his shouts loud and his voice strong, while waving for people to exit and move out, and preferably away from, the big cleaver-wielding lizard. Stalking forward at a lope, the lizard keeps low and fast, trying to get towards the violence and the scene . It would appear the lizard has a 'hero' problem. His axe rattles heavily as he shoves forward.
"That is not what I was designed for." Says Eleven as a spider-kin uses it as a ladder. Without any visible enemies it walks closer to Celeste, pulling a pistol from a holster on it's belt. "Do we shoot them? I am not sure how this works, I just followed mother around during battle and assisted in repairs. Should I follow you? I do not think they are golems but they look too heavy to be suits of armor." It looks over at the bangaa, with an expressionless face. "Everyone?"
Zhgir jumps up a bit as the bangaa suddenly bellows. Then he pats the golem, "He means everyone except those who he doesn't." He explains, "Also Zhgir thinks you shouldn't get too close to the queen. She has a spear." He adds, worriedly, before stands atop the golem for a moment, taking the moment to peer forward to see if there was anything interesting to be seen from his unique vantage point. But the restless arachnid soon leaps away and continues to climb further up along the walls.
Archimedes will use the ground floor then, and follow along until he can reclaim some vertical advantage. He seems quite comfortable with Celeste in the fore, at least. He's quick to study anything that could be used to advantage, including abandoned airships. They run the risk of being prime targets, though. He keeps himself braced and ready the whole while, assuming something of a sentinel position, astride the group.
"Stick wi't th'rest'a us," Celeste snaps at the Bangaa pushing past her. "Use yer 'ed, I'mma got'a shield fer'a purpose." She picks up her pace, however, after the lightning blast is evident, moving straight in that direction. "Y'all big'n brave," she calls out, "Pickin' on folks what ain' fightin' back. 'Member me? Come 'ere an' get y'self a rematch!"
Two of the figures emerge from the far platform with the shattered skiff, while two more emerge from the platform to its left. All four are enormous, the size of a Galka and bedecked in coal-black full plate, orange light pulsing from the seams. One from the far platform lifts a hand, and a massive jet of fire snaps from it, burning a head-sized hole through the wall above the main entrance--targeting nobody, but a clear signal. An inhuman voice echoes amidst the sound of falling rubble through the air; "Get out and you won't be hurt!" Its partner watches the threatening mouse-woman and her apparent companions below and lifts a massive zweihander. The other two, one with a pair of battleaxes in hands, the other carrying what appears to be a small cannon, watch and wait.
Spider, Shooter, and, hm. Hopping rat. Terribly-accented lady who has a shield about mhis size. Yup, the Bangaa is just grinning now, as he stalks towards the ships and the lightning, his axe swaying side to side. Okay, it's a giant cleaver. Same thing. Stalkng in - the lizard slows his steps, and lets out a hiss, blinking. Oh, so they can shoot fire and have a cannon. Now that's just not fair. He glances over at the others, his jaw tensing. It's just a momentary pause, the lizard trying to figure out if he should, or should not, charge. Yet. Not yet.
Eleven turns to look at the hole burned in the wall before turning back around and putting the pistol away. "I want one of those." Still entirely unsure of what to do without mother around, it simply follows Celeste and rummages in it's toolbox. "Capture one so I can study it."
Zhgir shifts upon his spot, having already tethered himself onto one of the protrusions on the wall. His attention turns towards the golem down below. "How far can you toss Zhgir?" He asks from him, as his lower hands start to open and close his satchels, somehow managing to weave a pale looking sheet out of thin air. Meanwhile, he waves his hand furiously towards Celeste, "Zhgir thinks the queen should yell louder, they don't seem to hear you!"
"Yes. Yell louder. They not hear it." He grumbles. Highness? Royalty, here? Lies. The Bangaa cracks his knuckles as he shifts the cleaver into a 'downward pose', ready to sweep up and hack apart if he needs to. That said, he looks and gives a nod towards the Royal. And then with a sudden bounding leap, the cook raises his cleaver up and snarls out a loud and reptilian hiss, attempting to cleave the nearest golem-thing right in half if he can. Which he probably cant. It's a steel cleaver, sure, but it's non-magical. ROAR!!!
Archimedes happens to think Celeste's accent is charming. It gives him enough bravado to pluck a specially prepared canister from his coat pocket and give it a good shake and *click*. The outsides drip a bit with a black viscuous liquid. "Well that just ain't fair," he spits, eyeing the 'small' cannon carrying suit. "You're gonna need a lot more of those if you wanna be stomping around here." In one swift motion he moves for cover and hurls the canister in an over-arm arc, where it will burst on impact, coating everything nearby in oil. [Grease] With any luck he can nail the guy holding the cannon.. if not, well, it'll make that platform a little more of a pain in the ass anyway. Added benefeit of moving for cover is redirecting smoe ranged retaliation from the group.
"Y'all gotta be kiddin'!" Celeste does indeed yell louder, apparently taking Zhgir's advice. As the blast flies over her head, she doesn't flinch; she merely spins her spear, raising it to rest on her shoulder as she continues to advance. "Y'all burst in'ere all rowdy an' hairy bunch, an' figure we all jes' lettin' yah? Tell y'what, yer takes off her armor an' surrender an' we's a'let *YOU* live." She glances to her side at the bangaa, while Elven's comments just... she just shakes her head briefly, and rolls her eyes. "I'mma get straight on't," she mutters, as she watches Archimedes' cannister go flying through the air. As it hits, she shifts her spear to be held by the same hand as her shield; around her right hand, bright orange runes glow in the air, before they swirl out in front of her, becoming a mass of flame that the mouse launches at teh pool of grease the burmecian just created. [Fire]
"Resistance is useless," the nerve-tingling voice replies. The monstrosity who hurled the bolt of fire turns and unloads another jet of fire, this time at an unoccupied platform, and leaves both platform and empty skiff next to it a smoldering mess. The cannon-wielder, however, turns awkwardly to the hurled object, then tries to bat it aside with a free gauntletted fist--tries, because the canister erupts on contact, leaving a slick sheen on the armor. The glow flares as Celeste's spell bursts around the invader, and when the fire is gone, it levels its cannon in one hand and raises its other, the orange light bright and painful. A howling noise comes from the cannon like a gale, and the shell it lobs directly into the ticket counter cracks on impact, creating a vortex of powerful winds through all but the outer edges of the main floor.
Eleven looks up at Zhgir, calculating his mass. "Approximately six point two eight feet, is that important?" The golem is knocket from it's feet byt the wind, landing on the floor with a clatter. "I want one of those too." Still laying on the ground it draws the pistol from it's holster, lining up a shot with the cannon guy and looking for something vital. "We are shooting now, yes?" Trying to aim for what might be a neck it squeezes the trigger.
Zhgir was doing just fine where he was, unfolding his mighty treasure... up until the windows suddenly gush across him and makes him fall upside down, hanging off his toes from his support. Waving at Eleven, "Toss Zhgir at the not burning things when you have time, yes!" He suggests to Eleven, "Or, hm. Zhgir thinks you are brazen enough to just ram straight in..." He rubs his chin thoughtfully, tangled webbing hanging off his mandibles and person.
Archimedes ducks even further behind cover and gives his eyes a generous rubbing. It's similar to the feel he gets from accidentally looking too close to a welding flame, or similar. The sonic and air disruptions don't help, either. "... if we can get ahold of that canon, this will be interesting quick," he remarks. Then he quickly loads a particular cartridge into his mist rifle and swings out from cover, taking a second shot at the nearest platform. The bullet might *plink* off harmlessly, but doing so it discharges an arcane burst. A bit weak, but still temporal magic ripples out, wrapping the area in [Slow]. "I'm up for better ideas..."
And then, there is wind. Celeste quickly shifts her spear back to her right hand, and drops to one knee, holding her shield close against herself to minimize the effects of the wind against a... large... round object. Even so, she grits her teeth, and her considerable musculature is put to the test. "Win fight first, grab clobber aft'wards," she snaps; those to whom the instruction is directed likely know who they are. Celeste watches the Bangaa go leaping into the fray, and then, not to be outdone, the mouse jumps to her feet and does the same. She launches herself off the platform, and angles her shield against the wind, to slow her descent just a hair; as she lands, she shifts the metal bulwark between herself and the canon-wielding foe, just as she winds up and swings her spear like she really means it.
The wind is short-lived, as if it consumed itself in its wrath. The Bangaa's cleaver deflects off a now-sooty pauldron, leaving a nick but little else. The bullet from Eleven's pistol finds a glowing chink in the armor... and seems to disintegrate in the swirling Mist. The bubble of magic sweeps the platform, sweeping through both of the suited invaders--as well as Ba'Naram, too close to evade the sudden arcane sweep of sluggish movement. Celeste descends a moment later, spear leaving a gouge down the armor but deflected aside. The light from the cannoneer's armor, meanwhile, casts swirling brassy shadows on the walls as he extends his arms, and laughter like a steel bar shoved in a turbine fills the air. From the cannon a shell erupts, widening the hole in the wall above the entrance, while from his free hand comes a hail of lightning bolts--directed at the far platform.
A growing lethargy, he's always hated magic. Growling, snarling, hissing, the lizard rolls himself up and grips the axe with both hands in a solid, mighty squeeze, then rends down. The Bangaa is snarling as he tries to cleave the metal down again, quite possibly notching the cleaver, but the full weight of the bangaa is put into it - he wants to claim first kill, after all. "Haaaah!" Of course, to anyone outside of the radius, the lizard is moving slower than normal, enough to see the flex of muscle, the tightening of sinew, the look of annoyance as he feels /magic/ wash over him. Cowards.
"Negative, I was not designed for combat and I could only throw you to there." Eleven points at a spot on the floor, several feet away as it stands and runs for cover. "I suggest that we send in a platoon of shock troops to capture those in the suits so I can study them." Stopped behind a trashcan it raises the pistol again, maybe another one will be easier to injure. *BANG* The pistol barks and a shot goes out towards flamey.
"Would they fire on their own squads? Let's see just how ballsy they are..." Archimedes mutters. The Burmecian moves up behind the others, using broken and intact structure alike to shield himself from attention and from oncoming attacks. He feels quite outgunned... but this is hardly the time to turn tail. Rapidly he swings his rifle from target to target, aiming not for precsision, but to threaten, distract, and otherwise suppress fire aimed at the charging group. His Burmecia-built rifle now has a twist and a tube on the end, and a few cables running from the body to the battery, making each shot more like a muted chirp than an explosive sound. "Get. That. Cannon."
Zhgir takes the opportunity to peel away from the wall and slide atop Eleven again. He yanks the sheets of silk he's holding over his shoulder, before taking hold of his polearm. "Zhgir thinks we /are/ the shock troops." He points out, then gestures towards the sides of the big suits of armor. "We have to go around them! Up around and all over them!" He shouts, "Quick, while they are distracted!"
Celeste is rather busy, to be worrying about getting a canon, wether it's vitally important or not. She is, however, right face to face with a very large powered suit of armor, which she seems at best able to gouge. "Keep doni' whatcher doin'," she snaps at the Bangaa beside her. As the wind dies down, she takes a step back, keeping her shield up as she looks around swiftly at what else is happening. Removing herself from the immediate fray for a moment, she shifts her spear back to her shield hand; her right hand is surrounded by runes once more, as she lobs a second fire spell; this time aiming for the platform under another one of the enormous suits (or overtop of, if that is unavailable). With any luck, given all the damage so far, it will collapse beneath or on top of the enemy.
"Getzrik's rogue!" Which one is speaking is hard to discern amidst the sounds of battle and falling debris. The sword-wielder's armor, battered from the Mist-enhanced lightning, suddenly goes dim. Eleven's shot goes wide, leaving a pock in the wrecked skiff behind. The soldier with the twin axes, meanwhile, wastes no time--and apparently is unaffected by Archimedes' magic. Both moon-shaped blades trail Mist, and they crack into the still-cackling cannoneer's neck, a red-tinged mix of blood and Mist leaking out of the armor suit. Ba'Naram's time-caught cleaver comes a moment later, catching the helmet full in the face and revealing a woman's face, staring dead eyes ringed not with white but black. "Meiza! Open a door!" There's a loud rumbling noise from just outside the wall on the upper deck. The blast of fire on the far platform doesn't seem to quite destroy it, since nobody's gone blasting at it just yet, but it creaks ominously. More importantly, the swordsman flinches in what appears to be pain. Both figures vacate the platform quickly, charging down the balcony and doing their best to shrug off the cover fire towards the deceased cannoneer, the axe-wielder--and the Bangaa and Burmecian.
"Waaaaaugh!" The helmet comes free and shaken off, the Bangaa laughs brilliantly, and charges forward, towards the swordsman! The Bangaa, then, stomps twice and charges forward, towards the charging suits and their armor, the Bangaa letting the blood rage flow as he storms forward, dragging his cleaver along to create a lovely show of sparks. Intimidation, thy name is Bangaa!
Most people would probably get annoyed at being climbed on but Eleven simply looks up at the perched spider. "Go where? I have no means of attaining flight." The orders are accepted quickly anyway and it starts running towards some stairs to flank, as fast as it can with Zhgir hanging on. The pistol comes up for a another shot, but the golem hesitates at the invaders actions. "That is not supposed to happen, yes?"
Zhgir pats the golem on the head. "I have no idea what I'm doing." He tells the bronzen thing with a wide grin on his face; waiting up until they are up enough for him to clamber into action. "Keep going!" He shouts - and then he leaps off the golem, to try and catch the axe-wielding suit of armor from the behind. And with his webbings. And heart. He has plenty of heart. [Annoy]
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Archimedes registers the dialogue as a faint perponderance. Traitors in the ranks. Dissent. Something more dastardly behind the magitek suits, likely. As soon as the cannoneer goes down, though, the Burmecian abandons his rifle and is off like a shot, springing, sprinting across debris and dodging fire to make a vaulting leap to the platform above. It's graceful--while he's in the air, at least. The part where he's scrabbling and takes some time to find his footing above is less impressive, to say the least, and it'll take him a moment to move to Phase 2.
Celeste is far too busy at the moment to be to worried about retrieving a canon. No, the mouse has bigger things on her mind; like a bunch of charging people in mist-powered armor. "Na'this time," she hisses, "Y'ain't bugg'rin off twice." She keeps herself out of the immediate fray for the moment, as she sizes up the charging group; her fire runes swirl about her hand once more, before she lets loose, sending another blast of flame sizzling through the air... straight at the supports for the platform underneath the charging group; aiming for just ahead of them, so that hopefully the fire will be there, destroying things, just as they're charging over it. "Come'n get me!" she shouts at them, shifting her spear back to her right hand and giving it a spin, "I'mma Celeste!"
The swordsman and the fire-slinger are approaching the near platform. Celeste's own blast of flame, however, seems to weaken the supports sufficiently--the suits collapse through the balcony and fall... but too slowly, still carrying the residual effects of a Float spell, and they land lightly on the balcony below. Zhgir's efforts, meanwhile, do not go unnoticed; with an unearthly howl, the axe-wielder snarls and targets the very first thing it happens to see--which are the glowing runes and their wielder. It swings the axes wildly at Celeste's back, more Mist trailing from their blades. Ba'Naram, still under the last lingering effects of Archimedes' slowing bullet, is thankfully still in mid-charge when his targets find themselves a floor below.
Skidding to a halt - the Bangaa snags his axe down and hooks the edge of the railing,in order to halt himself from being thrown free. Letting out a loud huff, the Bangaa slows himself down and shakes his head rapidly, then bends his head down to look at the two beneath him. Cheek twitching, the Bangaa lets out a growl, the red-orange scaled creature takes a moment to settle himself, then leaps down, bringing his Cleaver in to try a decapitation strike on the foes below. Bangaaaaa!
Eleven finally sees a clear path of actions when Celeste is attacked from behind. It stops running and raises it's pistol, taking careful aim at the axeman's head. This is the point where one would wait for the natural pause between breaths for greater accuracy but the golem doesn't breathe. The bullets seems to be useless but it pulls the trigger anyway hoping to distract him.
Zhgir manages to latch onto the axe-wielding beast with his nets; doing plenty of work in wrapping the thing's hands and face into his nettings. "Zhgir!" He calls out triumphantly as he hangs onto the suit for the trip below- only to see the murderous thing get murderous on Celeste. The nets abandoned, he instead leaps for the woman's rescue. "Celeste!" He shouts out, as he tries to use the momentum of his weight to ruin at least one of the axes' swing before they connect.
Archimedes pulls himself to a more active position and takes stock of the situation. One swordsman down. One more foe turned 'rogue,' executed. Two suits fighting Bangaa berserker on a lower platform, and one crazed axe-wielder duking it out with Celeste. None seem like viable targets for an explosives weapon, 'lest he harm his friends as well. The mouse-knight has proven her prowess, but it never hurts to be safe when dealing with foes of this sort. "Kick 'is ass!" he calls out, and mutters a few strings of language in Burmecian. A thin white matrices of light forms in his palm, and then springs to Celeste, giving her a quick magical coating that pushes back against physical force. [Protect] Now, he has to figure out what he can about this canon, and seeing as the three enemies left are... engaged, this gives him a good opportunity to give it a look over. Assuming operation is any more complicated than 'point & pull', it's still good to get a look at.
The warning from Zhgir perks Celeste's ears; the mouse looks over her shoulder, just in time to see the axe-wielder bearing straight down on her. In a single, fluid, and rather inspired motion, she whirls about on the spot, and forms a defensive triangle with both shield and spear, absorbing the impact from one axe before knocking the other, just barely, aside. She takes a single step back, giving just that much ground between herself and her foe. "Y'mine," she snarls, bending her knees and crouching down. She keeps the shield up in front of her, as she spins her spear around behind herself, gathering momentum with the heavy weapon as she lunges forwards, thrusting the blade low before ramming it upwards, screaming aloud with the exertion as she rams it, hopefully, up through the chin and into the brain. [Heavy Blow]
Eleven's bullet bounces off the rampaging axe-wielder's head after its deflected blows--which seems to cause it to hesitate for a moment. The two below simply run for one of the airship tunnels, being chased by the Bangaa--who is still a few steps behind, even as the Slow effect wears off completely. Celeste's blow is firm and true, and a mighty clang echoes through the quivering Aerodrome. Unfortunately, the Mist Knight, or Mist Construct, or Psychotic Axe-Wielding Freak, absorbs the blow, a crack showing in the armor where it lands glowing with that lurid orange light. The axe-wielder rolls with the momentum of the blow, spinning around quickly--and bolting away, too fast, towards Archimedes and the fallen cannoneer. And then--fire. The wall next to Celeste and Zhgir blows out in a wave of fire, and the fifth armorsuit stands in the skiff tunnel behind, the outer wall also breached and a well-armored skiff hovering next to it. Zhgir's reflexes should keep him from being hurled to the floor, but Celeste's assault leaves her footing wrong, and the Burmecian woman falls from the balcony.
It's raining rats! The Bangaa, having landed down at a lower level, feels his knees protest and thighs ache for a moment, before he rolls his head up and stares, though blindfolded in the manner of his kind. Taking a deep hiss and breath, the Bangaa pulls himself up and steps back, judging the angle and speed. And then, the Bangaa sprints forward, to try to aim and catch the speed and angle with the womans own fall, before trying to catch her to avoid broken Rathood. And if it requires a leap from a height, he has his cleaver to hitch on the nearest object, even if he has to ride the wall down.
Eleven slides the pistol back into it;s holster after the bulelt simply bounces off as expected. It jams a hand into the toolbox hanging at its side and rummages around. "Maybe I have something in her that will help." And out of the tooblox comes...a rivet gun. The mechanism is held up and a red hot rivet is fired at axeman.
Archimedes sees everything happen in slow motion. Part of a party, part of a crew, is trust. Celeste has Ba'Naram, and vice versa. Eleven and Zhgir pair. And that leaves him... and a big fucking gun. Something about the aura, the nostalgia of the place... maybe it's the airships. "Well, let's just see what happens." He chuckles and swings the cannon past the charging axe suit, pointed square at the skiff that just busted through the wall and the rider astride it. He prepares for the worst and attempts to fire the pilfered device.
Zhgir rolls of along the side as the axe man decides to flee; which leaves the rolling arachnid only singed by the explosive entrance of yet another armored suit. His feet catch the edges of the platform, as he stares wide-eyed at the monstrosity in front of him. Now, if he had any Bombs. Taking a deep breath, he lunges towards the suit with his polearm held at the fore - but instead of actually trying to hit the thing, he was simply going to ram it underneath the chin of the suit and dump it, in hopes of trying distract it while he dashes within the tunnel. [Annoy]
Celeste shrieks in surprise as she finds herself, rather abruptly, falling off the platform. This is definitely not according to plan! At first, she tries to regain her footing, but quickly realizes that it's too far gone for that; everything starts to happen in slow motion, and she finds the presence of mind to swing her left arm around, and fling her shield off into open air, leaving her hand free for... whatever is upcoming. Which, it seems, is a long fall to the bottom; well, she's got strong bones, right? Fortunately it seems she has strong friends, also, as a large bangaa catches her on the way down. The mouse oomphs loudly, and holds her spear outstretched, so as not to get her saviour caught up in it. "GORRAMNIT!!" she shouts, before raising her now shieldless hand; runes whirl about it, glowing an angry orange, before she lobs a blast of fire at the axe-wielding mist knight. "Yer *MINE!!* she shouts, frustrated and angry, as she slides down the wall with Ba'Naram.
The rivet pops the axe-wielder in the leg, but doesn't seem to do more than leave a slight glowing crack in the armorsuit, which seals shut a few moments later. The hand-cannon, now in Archimedes' hand, clicks... and does nothing more--apparently the gun only fits two rounds at a time. Zhgir's target, meanwhile, simply ignores the target to step back onto the skiff, waiting to cover for the others at need. And so the last remaining soldier inside the Aerodrome drops its axes in front of Archimedes and snatches up the dead invader, lifting it as if the weight is almost meaningless--and swings it around to absorb the gout of fire slung at it.
Archimedes scowls when the cannon clicks. "... well, shit." He meets the approaching suit by reaching for his hold-out pistol, fire in his eyes... and when the axes go down, he pauses. Hangs his head. The mission is over, it would seem. It resembles respect, the way they take the fallen, but the truth is probably more like: reduce, reuse, recycle, don't let them have a suit. Archimedes', with this goal in mind, rises. He's got a lot of weapons to collect, too; his gun, the cannon, the two axes... make sure everyone's unharmed... and see about excavating that crashed suit.
Ow. Catching a body falling is easier than some think - and he grips the wrist of the girl who falls and throws himself forward and swings, nearly losing his grip on his cleaver, which sparks as it cuts its way down the wall and he uses his strength to slow the fall, either all the way to the ground, or until his cleaver hooks into something, and he can hold the girl by one arm to steady herself. He grunts, his shoulder suddenly on fire, but he's stubborn about keeping someone up. He's out of the fight until she's able to touch floor.
Zhgir snarls at the suit as he is just flat ignored, and in sheer frustration he tosses a handful of brass objects - oddly shaped like keys - at the thing from his pocket. But he yields by leaping away onto the wrecked wall, scuttling onto a position where he can just observe the suits' retreat. And hopefuly not be lit on fire.
If able to Eleven would frown as the small success the rivit gun has, quickly seal up. "They are getting away, capture one." It says as the rivet gun falls to the floor and it begins running over towards where everone else is. Maybe one last shot as the pistol comes out of the holster and up again. It stops and shakes it's head. "Atleast the one that crashed is still here and we can study their weapons."
Celeste growls in frustration as her fire spell is blocked without effect. "G'DAMNIT!" she snaps; upon reaching the floor, she casts her eyes about for her fallen shield, after landing in a crouch and moving swiftly out of the way of the Bangaa. "...Thanks," she adds, with full sincerity, and offering a nod to the Bangaa. "Burns me ter see'm gettin'way though." She sighs heavily, forced to acknowledge that it will be over by the time she gets back up; and so she simply sets about marching off to pick up her shield, instead.
As the apparent resistance wanes, the last soldier leaves the platform, running with magically-induced haste back to the skiff. Once onboard, the small airship descends from view--likely to pick up the other two a floor below from the airship mooring they had bolted for. The sound of a piece of masonry falling from some tenuous perch echoes in the Aerodrome as the raid concludes, the building damaged but, at least, still standing.
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