We'll Rise Again...

[Kyo]

((Closed to Participating BB members.))


It was quiet, a deep quiet that penetrated the skin and somehow burrowed into the very soul, finding a niche and nesting within it. Water lapped gently and softly against the side of the boat, creating one of the few sounds that seemed to endure within this place, other than the constant drawing of air coming from the few bodies on board. The loud cry of a bird, or some other animal occasionally reverberated throughout the silence, causing a rise in the beat of ones heart and the calming afterwards. If things stirred within the thick fog that rose off the water and blinded the eyes, then they were not to be seen. If things lived amongst the towering trees and their massive trunks, and the twisted and moss covered roots that broke the water’s surface, then they were not to be sensed. Everything seemed still, as if it were waiting for something to break and fall, and cause life to beat once more in a place that seemed so dead and yet so at peace.

The boat pulsed further into the swamp, its every motion forward creating a gentle ripple that rose and fell upon the waters of Fiorair. There were no sails to guide it, not in the stagnant air that filled the swamp, air that clung hot and heavy to the skin. There were not even oars to row the boat further along, instead it was guided by magic. How, and what kind was not known as the information had not been given. All that seemed important was that it moved forward and cut a path through the dense fog that was so thick it left a sprinkle of water upon whatever touched it and parted with their movements, allowing barely any visibility passed the nose of the vessel. It made traversing through Fiorair more than just dangerous.

Leaning against the smooth and warm wooden rail, the ninja sighed rather peacefully as her ice blue eyes starred at an unimportant place somewhere ahead of her. They had been making their way deeper and deeper into the swamp for a few hours now, the boat slow moving and careful to avoid the sudden rise of a tree or root that appeared like ghosts in the mist. The experience of the Draconians guiding this vessel was most likely the only thing to have saved them from a crash so far. Though guiding was quite possibly not the appropriate word to use.

The driver, a male named Keegan, stood in the centre of the ship before a mass of glowing blue crystals that his hands never completely touched but never strayed too far from. They moved gently around the crystals and every time they did, the boat rocked to the side and turned in the direction he wished of it. Magic like that was something she had never seen before and only heard tales of when one spoke of elves from Raiaera. Keegan was a rather young looking Draconian with no wings adorning his back and no scales that she could perceive either. It was only his pitch black eyes that gave him away for what he was, otherwise she would have thought him completely and utterly human. Erionn was also on board, along with two other Draconians. Their exact intentions were unclear to her, but she didn’t doubt they’d all be reporting to the Ceann Cath about whatever progress Molotov and her made today. About what or not they had succeeded in clearing out the ruins or died trying.

The Ceann Cath was a subject she would rather forget about at the moment, but he always seemed to creep into the forefront of her mind. He held so much power in Dheathain as the leader of the Draconians and he had demanded quite a bit from them, but not out in the open. No, he had left the requirements of their new settlement rather vague, which was more distressing to her than had he outright told them what he demanded of their clan. She preferred people’s motivations and intentions to be well known to her, at least easily read. It was also only a small relief to know that Molotov would no longer be dealing with the Draconian leader either, and that if she were lucky, she just may find a way to manipulate him into what she wanted. She deluded herself with no grand illusion of being a master manipulator, but she knew how to play certain people and if she were lucky the more time she spent with the Ceann Cath, the more she could figure him out. Only she did not wish to be in his presence more so than necessary.

The sound of heavy footsteps thudded across the deck, coming closer to the ninja, which forced a soft sigh to escape her lips. She wasn’t in the mood for talking, not right now anyway, especially if it was Molotov. Sometimes he rubbed her the wrong way. The man, after all, barely any respect for anyone or anything that lived or died in Althanas. It wasn’t him though, she didn’t even need to turn her head to tell. As two hands gripped the railing she leaned upon, the dark blue scales covering them immediately gave away who it was, Erionn. He was silent for a few moments though, his eyes focused on some point ahead of them that she possibly couldn’t see.

“Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

His heavily accented voice seemed too loud, as if their very surroundings called for them to whisper to one another.

“Yes.” Her answer was simple and straight forward, but she knew it was far more complicated than that. He was not just referring to the monster hunt before them, he was referring to this entire expedition and the reason she had met him in the first place.

It surprised her really, if he hadn’t wanted them to succeed, then why had he taken them to the Ceann Cath in the first place? If he’d been worried about their safety, or the possible outcome, why even agree to help? He was a confusing man, but then again most of them were. Jared was a good example. That thief was able to turn her whole world upside down, tie it into little knots and somehow still be able to keep her steady on her feet in the process. It was… exhausting and thrilling all at the same time. That man would probably be the death of her some day.

As her answer hung in the air between them, the ninja could sense the Draconians unease. It radiated off of him in pulses like the beat of his heart. But there was nothing he could do or say to stop her. Her mind was set. The Bandit Brotherhood would rise again with Molotov and her at the helm, leading it towards a new destiny that they shaped as they saw fit. Those that joined them in this quest were welcome and wanted, and those that got in their way would be destroyed. It should have been as simple as that, but Kyo knew it was far more complicated. They had a whole region of politics to deal with and two races they were not allowed to touch.

[Molotov]

“I once met a man that said that I couldn’t kill a monster,” Molotov remembered as he looked out from the deck towards the damp swamp all around him. “He’s dead now, but I’m still standing. Guess we bloody know where that trick gets you.” The mutant looked out to Kyo and Erionn. He didn’t much care for the large draconian. It wasn’t just that Erionn was his equal when it came to arrogance, it was that Kyo would rather confide in the draconian than him. “If we’re going to do this together, there’s going to be no bloody going to the Ceann Cath every time she bloody wants something…” he thought. “Don’t let their gimmicks fool you Kyo, they’re fucking wankers just like the rest of the governments ‘round this place.”

The mutant looked on as Kyo and Erionn exchanged words, and he scowled. It wasn’t as much the fact they were talking, though if he had the choice, he would have preferred that they didn’t. It was what Erionn was saying, spreading doubts in Kyo’s mind about the entire operation. Molotov didn’t care if Erionn didn’t believe in him. Throughout his life, there had only been two people who had believed in him, his mother and Jennie Stormer. If he’d listened to what the kids in Jamison Academy had said about the prospects of a kid from the slums of Radasanth in the larger world, he wouldn’t be standing on the deck of a riverboat, getting ready to slay monsters.

The truth was, Molotov believed that he could kill monsters. He believed if necessary, he could kill them just with his desire alone. The mutant hadn’t felt this way in a very long time, ever since the day in Haidia where he had sworn to change his ways, he had lacked convictions that were nearly as strong and deep. He wanted to atone, but that was only for forgiveness. The Bandit Brotherhood was something he wanted with his soul. It meant atonement, it meant forgiveness, but more than either of those, it meant something much more important to the mutant: a chance to matter to the Universe again.

When he had killed, he had done so for anger, he had done so out of regret, but more than anything else, he had done it to matter. To show all the snotty kids in his private school that a streetkid could be something. It mattered to show all the nobles that fired his father, that they were equal in a much more important way, if he wanted, Molotov knew he could kill them.

“Shoop the whoop!” he now crowed, interrupting Erionn and Kyo. “I bloody love killing monsters. Like that Dagon said, it’s a bandit’s life for me!”

Molotov noticed Erionn giving him a dirty look, but the mutant didn’t care. Instead, he swaggered over towards the draconian with a smirk on his face. “You don’t believe we can do this, do you?” Molotov asked bluntly.

Erionn paused for a moment before speaking, but Molotov jumped upon his pause as confirmation of what he’d believed. “Of course you don’t,” he said. “You’re just a bloody lizard man, and you don’t know what it’s like to want something the way I want this. You’re the kind of sod who when you goes to bed, you’re less of a man than you were when you woke up. I really pity wankers like you, no belief or faith, and no fucking imagination. It’s just too sad.”

Content with what he’d said, Molotov stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it using a lighter. He had no intention of showing Erionn what he could do with flames, he didn’t trust the draconian nearly enough to be that intimate.

However, Erionn’s response surprised Molotov slightly. The draconian smirked, crossed his arms over his chest and answered. “Faith in your ability to kill monsters is one thing, and I don't doubt you can start your little rag-tag team of thieves and outlaws, but whether or not you'll survive the Ceann Cath is a completely different matter. Don't think your dealings with him are done.”

Molotov smirked. “My dealings with him are done enough for now, and that’s enough for me,” Molotov replied bluntly. “He’s another one of those wankers who doesn’t believe monsters can be killed. The thing that you don’t see, starting a clan, killing monsters, it makes no bloody difference. You don’t do them with skill, you do them with desire. The sooner you know that, the sooner you’ll stop blowing smoke up Kyo’s ass…”

With that, the mutant walked away, content to leave Kyo with any of the repair work that needed to be done. He was too busy dreaming to let a draconian bring him down.

[Bandit]

”Putrid” The thought crossed Ziggy’s mind all to often as he leaned against the far railing, avoiding all the other members who decided to take part in the voyage to claim a head quarters for the new Brotherhood. The smell that lingered in the air was one of dirty water, complete with something unidentified which was almost as bad as the death that lingered in the water. Even worst then the smell was the fact that not a single thing could be seen outside of the boat due to the impenetrable fog. If ghosts did exist then they would feel right at home in this hell hole. A person could be staring back into Ziggy’s clueless eyes from a mere foot away and he would be none the brighter until they decided to speak. Shaking his head, the bandit merely continued to listen to the gently ripple of the boat cutting through the water like glass.

Throughout the entire trip there had been little to say to one another. Everyone knew they were going into a pit of monsters and that if luck was on their side they would survive, however realistically speaking, Ziggy looked around at the group and figured they would be lucky to only loose a couple of the younger less experienced people who Molotov and Kyo had been able to recruit. The thought crossed his mind every so often as he watched the people pace back and forth. Going into a battle with other peoples lives in the balance was not the way Ziggy liked to tackle an obstacle. When his life hung in the balance he was happy to take any odds, however when he watched others be as reckless as him he almost felt a certain responsibility for them. It was this characteristic that set Ziggy apart from many of the other members of the population around Althanas. He actually gave a shit about strangers and didn’t like innocent lives being lost for a cause that they may or may not believe in. Ziggy loved the previous brotherhood and therefore would fight tooth and nail for it to return, however the motives of these ‘new’ guys seemed blurred almost as if they were unsure what they were getting into.

Shaking the negativity from his mind, Ziggy focused on the task ahead. He could see Kyo and Molotov once again talking to the scaled Draconian who seemed to be up to his own agendas. Him and Molotov exchanged words which both made Ziggy smile and yet worry at the tension. If this was the group they were trusting to get them to their goal then perhaps this goal was indeed nothing but a trap set by the governments. Once again, paranoia seemed to sweep over Ziggy where governments where concerned. When he thought about it, the governments made the laws he was destined to break. They helped the rich take advantage of the poor which thieves like him were trying to help. No matter what scenario he tried to think of Ziggy could not come up with one where the governments could be trusted. People thought thieves were dishonest, but when it comes to politicians, they always have agendas and use anyone to gain an upper foothold within their own situations.

Rubbing his hand along the stubble that had formed over his face, Ziggy figured he was not one for politics and therefore would leave the thinking to Kyo and Molotov, which basically meant Kyo seeing as he knew Molotov was not a politician any more then he was. Turning away from the darkness surrounding the boat, Ziggy looked towards the sky where he knew Brox was slowly following them. His red dragon would be keeping close watch over the boat with his senses and making sure nothing from the sky got by unnoticed, he had given Molotov his word on that aspect. Slipping away from the side of the railing, Ziggy made his way over to the mutant who stalked away from the Draconian a successful man.

Reaching Molotov, Ziggy kept stride with the mutant. “Brox is in the air as I promised he would be. Nothing will get by him as long as he is patrolling the skies; however the waters are a different story. Just to set the record straight, I don’t trust those damn Draconian’s any more then you do mate. But until we reach our destination I’m avoiding the crowd some of these people don’t know what they are getting into and are way to cheery for my taste.” Giving the mutant a pat on the back, Ziggy summoned the shadows around him and disappeared into those collected shadows, masking himself perfectly as if he were simply invisible. ”God I love shadow manipulation.” Going back to his railing, he leaned against it preparing to fight for what he so badly longed for. He was fighting for a place to once again belong, a place to call home, and a place to fight for.

[Saxon]

The sound of foul, wet sick hitting the bottom of the iron-cast bucket was enough to make anybody within earshot lurch. Feeling his limbs shake violently and to their own volition, Saxon held the edges of the bucket for support as his malnourished body continued to expend whatever the weird had put in his stomach a few nights ago. The soft, steady rock of his cabin beneath the boat alongside the flicker of the lamp that swung carelessly in the air only seemed to amplify the symptoms of his mysterious fever.

" Ugnnn.." the eldritch groaned as he glimpsed the light swinging in his direction again," You've got to be fucking kidding me."

A week within Dheathain hadn't been enough, and now Saxon was beginning to have second thoughts about the entire thing. Immediately stepping from Tsep, the eldritch had begun to feel the strange, unknown illness churn within him as it caught another infection and put the symptoms to creative use. Whatever the weird ate, he spat back up. Whatever he drank save water too was expelled in the most disgusting way possible. The deckhands below and above deck had been racing back and forth the first two day upon the ship, exchanging four or five different buckets between them and expelling their rancid contents into the bubbling swamp below.

This was a mista-, his mind said before the weird began to convulse violently, the shudder of the iron pail knocking against the wooden frame of the room as he threw up whatever was left in his stomach. Mercifully, however, the rest of the Brotherhood and crew had been all too eager to shack up in the galley and leave the room to the wretched weird.

There was a familiar rap on the door that interrupted the dizzying feeling of vertigo as the hull of the ship continued to sway back and forth, and which Saxon slowly looked up and called hoarsely," What is it?!"

A familiar, nonsensical voice ripe with the accent of those that dwelled within Pmilani spoke from behind the door," Signor Saxon! Signor Saxon! Are you alright in there?"

Looking back up from the puddle of sick that rolled around within the pail, Saxon's eyes narrowed and he howled," What do you think?!"

Pushing the door open, the eldritch heard the distant sound of familiar footsteps as the only man to visit him since this entire mess started began to pat his shoulder," Oh, signore! You can't be doing this anymore! Pretty soon you'll be coughing up blood and by then it'll be too late!"

" Whose to say I haven't already?" Saxon moaned as he sat back on his rump while flinging his overgrown bangs out of the way of his eyes. Turning back, he looked at his physician he had personally sought at times like these. The eldritch had come to depend on the expertise and medical prowess of Jacopo Grigori who seemed to have grown on the weird almost like some kind of fungus. The physcian had treated the weird before when he had a case of 'mortal sleep depreviation' as he had called it.

A relatively tall man for somebody belonging to the province of Pmilani, Jacopo had passed his prime which was indicated by the unkempt waves of white hair that seemed to be trying to escape the dwelling of his head. Lanky and thin by build, the old physician's hawk-nosed face and the iron-rimmed bifocals that sat perched upon his pointed nose often reminded Saxon of somebody akin to an owl of some kind.

Smelling his hot, putrid breath as he spoke, the doctor quickly covered his nose and mouth with a kerchief as he looked down at him," Well?" the eldritch said before his eyes set upon the small case that rested in Jacopo's grip," Did you get it?"

Looking absent mindedly at the case the doctor began to sputter in a language unfamiliar to the eldritch before drifting back into tradespeak,"-orry, signore! It had completely slipped my mind, but yes I do have it!"

Wiping his vomit-flecked lips with the back of a bony hand, the weird tried to pick himself up but was rushed to his feet by the aid of the curious, elderly doctor," You know I really should be paying you for this," Saxon began deliriously.

" No no! That is quite alright!" His caretaker began as he moved the eldritch gently towards the bunk," Anything for the man who saved my daughter's life. I am still indebted to you, friend, and will never forget it."

Pulling himself into a sort of fetal position facing away from the doctor, Saxon shook his head feebly," No, but seriously, I hate to have whisked you away from something important."

" Shhh," Saxon heard the doctor crow before the sound of a case being cracked open and the tinkling of vials and beakers clanking together," You mustn't worry about that now. We must get you better if you are to fight those horrid creatures."

" And how the Hell are we going to do it with that," Saxon said weakly as he looked over and saw Jacopo begin to screw a long, thick syringe upon a syringe cased in lead," You can't expect something like this to work in a couple of days!"

Resting his head upon the pillow, Saxon heard the doctor's footsteps receding away from him as Jacopo shooed some onlookers away and closed the door none-too-loudly," Well we've run into a bit of a wall here," the doctor began.

" Don't sugar coat it for me, Grigori."

" Uhh.. well.. how do you people put this.. uhh.. I believe the phrase is,' last ditch effort', no?" The weird heard the doctor say plaintively while he lifted up his patient's shirt.

" Grreeaat.." Saxon growled as he flopped on his bed one last time," How will this make it any better? I told you I have swam-" he managed to finish before he heard himself scream at the sharp pinch of a metal object being plunged into one of his various organs.

" Now, now. This medicine I managed to get imported, thanks to the dual efforts of those young ladies you sent, should alleviate the symptoms in a matter of hours and allow you to eat again."

" Thanks a lot, Doc." The weird hissed through clenched teeth as he felt the super-vaccine burn as it coursed through his veins.

" Must there be anything else?" Jacopo inquired in his own version of broken tradespeak as he set the syringe aside.

The eldritch began to mumble something incoherently as he shivered violently under the cold sweat," What was that?"

Breathing louder, Saxon growled with all the calm he could muster," Get me water and my fucking bucket, Grigori."

" Happy to oblige, signor!"

~*~

[MiaKane]

The ice elf laid quietly using her backpack as a pillow off to one side of the bow, well within earshot of the trio of leaders. A soft sigh of humor escaped her lips as she listened to the exchange occur, opening a single violet eye to watch the mutant storm away.

Her foot tapped the railing softly as she hummed an old bayou song she had heard back the town they had left from. She let herself fall back into her second senses, reaching out through to fog to see what was around them.

The stillness of the world that was in their vision, yet what was going on beyond it reminded Mia of the many blizzards they had back home. Her father and her would meditate like this, reaching out and sensing those things that lay beyond.

There was a sudden jerk from the pole, making her eyes shoot open as she gave a short snap from her wrists to set the hook. Sitting up she began reeling, the fish was a pretty good fighter as it took her a few moments to retrieve it from the water and set in on the deck.

“Who we! Gonna eat well tonight” she said with a hoot, holding the fish down with one hand while using a knife to remove its head with the other. The catfish was big enough to feed at least four people a good meal. The ice elf gutted it quickly before adding it to good sized bucket of water. A cheery grin crested her lips for a moment as she sliced off a hunk of a summer sausage and re-baited her hook before tossing it back out and resuming her relaxed position.

For quite a while Mia had been conversing silently with a whole slue of spirits that lived within the seemingly void swamp, finding little bits and pieces of information on what kinds of creatures thrived, what plants were dangerous, and what dangers nature provided for the unknowing traveler.

Everything she spoke to, save for one, had little if anything to say about the ruins they were going to be entering. Mia took one more slice of the sausage before putting it back in her backpack, and returning to her hands the fishing pole she had been steadying with her armpit.

Mia had a bad habit of taking on accents when she listened to one for more than a few moments, which always tended to show through more if that person was a spirit.

Lifting the brim of her straw hat so she could eye Kyo,she began speaking “the spirits, D'ey say that Fothrach dar Aiseirigh , got an eeeevil in it. An old evil, that why it be ruins now... Not that it be matterin', wouldn't have brought this much steel less we already be knowin' all that.”

She tilted her hat back down, having said her peace on the whole affair. The whole thought of it was kind of building a sense of nervousness in her after hearing so many spirits warnings. Then again, it was also making her purr in anticipation of just finding out what nasties existed in such dark places.

“This kind of thing is really where it's all at....” she whispered to herself, giving a long look at where her line met the water.

[Lavinian Ambition]

"I swear, thieves attract the biggest bunch of psychos and freaks out there..." Jared said under his breath with a sigh. From Kyo, to the rather garishly dressed Mutant Molotov he had seen pretty much everything. The elf fishing at the bow was a rather pleasant interruption, at least a distraction from the disappearing man. He was beginning to wonder just how sane he was for Accepting Kyo's invitation to come here. As he looked about the deck the boat continued to amble on, despite the rather large outburst from Molotov.

At least he was somewhat used to the prospect before him. Despite the fact that he was born and Raised in Lavinya, even Lavinya had its freaks and oddities, after all there was Seth Dahlios, world renowned murderer and Lavinian Thief. Garret Brown, Bow for Hire, and expert infiltrator, hell even Darith's name was spoken of in whispers in certain circles about how he had protected his guild from extinction despite years of the Guard's zealous searching for the Guildhall. The fact of the matter was, no matter how far he went, a thief's guild was a thief's guild, and as foreign as many of the people were, they were all familiar in their own way.

He chuckled to himself as he leaned back against a wall crossing his arms, a look of amusement plastered on his face. He was at home with these people, to the point he didn't feel a need to have his hands by his waist all the time. His wallet was another idea entirely, but he doubted many of these would be bandits would steal on a ship this small. There was no need to throw the ship into more chaos than already had occurred. He did however, keep his gaze on Kyo as she was assaulted from all sides by the problems cropping up.

Should have warned you, takes a lot of spine to be a leader Kyo. Hope you're up for the task, course you certainly seemed raring to go back in Radasanth, He thought to himself as he grinned. Not that Kyo suffering amused him, just that he couldn't keep back the boyish excitement of doing something so profoundly wrong. The idea of being part of a group that was dedicated to the theft of ones personal valuables was something he relished. It was almost as big a rush as when his pledge into the Thief's Guild had been accepted five years ago.

He did however know there were loyalties to sort out. He was Loyal to Lavinya first, that much he knew, and so with Darith being in charge of the Thief's Guild he would have to be sure to follow the instructions given as closely as possible. However, he was also fiercely loyal to Kyo and what she was trying to do. There was an old saying that no man can have two masters, and he was sure that he would be an exercise in showing the futility of that statement, but he had to try. After all Seth and Sarah Dahlios had been Bandits, and it was easily noted how the two rarely saw eye to eye.

Then again, Seth and Sarah where often ostracized by the rest of the thieves for the oddness of their ways. Sarah was a Vampire, and even now Seth is not spoken of openly, despite his death all those years ago. To say that he could use them as a baseline for his own actions was Ludicrous, Jared after all was not a vampire, and he was also not infused with the blood of Traitors. He could never wield the magic that had cause Seth to go insane, abandon his pregnant girlfriend and kill himself, in some crusade for atonement. Of course, that was if the rumors were true. If not, then there was something far worse awaiting any who followed Seth's path.

It was this reason that Jared walked the exact opposite path of the murderer as much as possible. As his eyes scanned over the crew and further onto his fellow bandits his grin faded has he wrestled with the bigger questions, giving Kyo the room she needed to operate. He was hardly a lapdog for her, and she was definitely not the sort to need him doting on her. He could survive in the rather hostile environment, if only by staying at the edge. Friends could be made later, and he of course had heard the rumors that Rose had signed up with the Bandits. If that was true, that would certainly make things... interesting.

[Rayner]

The swaying of the boat made Luthien a tad uneasy as he sat on one of the many cots which were set up in the gallery. People milled about around him, each having their own task to keep the boat in a livable condition. Whether that be cleaning up after the crew, or simple repairs that needed to be done around the vessel. However, it wasn’t the crew of the boat which got Luthien’s attention. Rather then the crew, it was the many members which Molotov and the woman Kyo had recruited to come along in this mission. Some seemed to carry themselves very well where as others seemed more like Luthien himself, a little wet behind the ears when it came to this sort of adventure.

Holding his dagger in his left hand, he gently ran the sharpening stone along the edge, making sure his daggers were in perfect condition. The last thing that he wanted to do was go into battle with dull weapons which could end up costing him his life. As he ran the stone along the edge he caught bits and pieces of the conversations which were going on around him. Many of the hired crew had little belief in the adventure which the Brotherhood were about to take part in. Many sided with the large Draconians, and said that the Brotherhood would fail to liberate the fort, and even if they cleared the ruins of monsters the greatest tasks still lay ahead of the rag tag group.

Shaking his head, Luthien pocketed one of the sharpening stones he had found below deck. ”Wow your already thinking like a thief.” The thought scared him slightly, and yet also filled him with excitement. The people he had met so far seemed like decent enough people, such as Zigurate, Molotov, and Kyo. He hadn’t pictured these three as thieves at all. In the Minstrels’ Perch they had all seemed so nice and outgoing that it was hard to picture them running a knife across a stranger’s throat in order to take their money. But then again, as of now none of these so called thieves had demonstrated their brutality, so maybe all those stories that people told about murdering bandits was all wrong. Perhaps Luthien was about to get an inside look as to the true story behind thievery.

“ ‘Ey, you get up off that cot and help out around here.” The heavy accented man came hobbling across the room holding a hammer in one hand and a bad of steel nails in the other. “Ye know there is a door comin off its hinges down below, surely you can take care of that eh?” As he asked the question the large man shoved the hammer and nails into Luthien’s unexpected hands. Looking up at him, Luthien simply shook his hand and stood up making his way out of the gallery.

”Apparently I don’t look like a damn bandit to these men. Once again Luthien gets stuck doing the damn dirty work for someone else.” Luthien was surprised at the viciousness of his own thoughts. Never in a lifetime would he have thought of saying that to the larger man’s face, but behind his back Luthien could say anything. Kicking open the door leading below deck, Luthien started down the sketchy stairs, almost slipping as one of them wobbled under his weight. Finally reaching the broken door, he began tacking it back into place all the while the boat rocked uneasily back and forth along with the soft steering from the Draconian at the helm.

”God damn I hope we get there soon. Anything would be better than nailing this door back up for some damn crewman who thinks he is better then me.” Luthien cursed as he swung and missed a nail landing a heavy blow to his thumb. Watching his thumb swell before his eyes, he sucked on it gently hoping to sooth the pain slightly. Shaking it off, he kept nailing the nails into the hinges, making sure the door wouldn’t fall off ever again. As he drove the final nail into place, he looked around at his effort and smiled. “Now if only we can manage to take back these ruins with only slight injury.” Smiling slightly, Luthien looked down at his red thumb. If they were all lucky that’s the worst that would happen on this voyage into the deadly swamps. Hell for all Luthien knew he wouldn’t be lucky enough to make it out of the ruins with his life let alone a minor injury. In fact, every single person in this boat were taking their lives and throwing them up for grabs which was unsettling to Luthien, and yet those such as Ziggy, Molotov, and Kyo seemed to welcome it. They truly fought for this Bandit Brotherhood with their lives, something that Luthien hoped he would understand soon.

[Kyo]

Kyo narrowed her eyes at the retreating back of Molotov. The man was beginning to aggravate her. First what he’d said back in The Mintrel’s Perch about Erionn and his race and now this, right in front of the man. She had no idea where his intolerance towards the draconian race came from, but it had to end soon or he was going to get them in hot water very quickly. Erionn had done nothing but help them in the short time they’d been in Dheathain and he gave her no reason not the trust him. And even though Molotov and the others thought she trusted him too easily, the truth was far from it. She weighed his reactions and his words carefully and she knew that though he seemed to have taken an interest in their group, he was still a part of the government here. He had his loyalties. Kyosku just believed that he wanted to help them despite that. The only real question was how far he’d go to do that.

“I apologize for his rude behaviour...” Kyo said as politely as possible.

Considering all she wanted to do was walk over and knock some sense into the man, possibly by beating his head into the deck of the ship. His thick impenetrable skull would probably prevent any real damage from occurring, but in the end it would just feel damn good to hurt him.

“It’s fine.”

Erionn turned his eyes away from the retreating back of Molotov, one human that wasn’t entirely human anymore. The man had a strange aura about him that the Draconian couldn’t quite describe. It was definitely something he’d never encountered before, that much he was certain. His words were nothing new to the General; he had heard far more caustic ones throughout his life, which had already surpassed both of theirs in the entirety of theirs. Though part of him wanted no more than to march over there to give the human a piece of his mind, he decided against it. There was a good chance the exchange would eventually lead to blows and then he wouldn’t stop until he had Molotov whimpering like a little child on the deck before him.

In the end, it was probably much better that the man wanted nothing to do with the Draconians anyway; Erionn could only see his presence in Suthainn leading to trouble. Kyo would deal with the Ceann Cath, whether she wanted to or not. And Erionn had no problem dealing with her. She was far more tolerant, better with her choice of words and not to mention, better looking. Her eyes had this exotic slant to them he had never seen on a human before. Such a shame she’d only been interested in business with him. Then again, business meant they would be spending a lot of time together since Daroch had practically charged him with keeping an eye on these humans and their clan.

They’ve already brought together a small number of people too and in such a short time.

They were no army, but the Draconian General had been more or less expecting solely Kyo and Molotov to be cleaning out Aiseirigh, not this oddity of people that they had gathered. There were only a few among them who gave off a semblance of even being relatively normal humans. The red haired boy looked fine out the outside, but there was something tainted within him. The elf was muttering something about spirits and an evil inside of the ruins as she continued to fish off the bow, there was another man with a dragon of all things blending into the shadows for no other reason save it seemed like a good idea and two more of their people were down in the quarters. One was constantly heaving the contents of his stomach into a bucket from what he’d heard, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to know what the other one was doing.

“Do you know how much longer until we get to the ruins?”

Her eyes swept across those that had gathered here, pausing only on the form of Jared Cesarino. Their relationship was...complicated. He wanted something from her that she wasn’t prepared to give, that she couldn’t give and because of that she had run away from him. Only to come back less than three months later asking him to put his loyalty behind something that she was creating. She had expected him to throw it in her face, laugh at her or even just tell her to flat out get out. But he hadn’t. Despite what she’d done, he’d willingly and gladly joined the ranks of the brotherhood.

“An hour... possibly a little longer.”

The ninja nodded her head as she once again leaned against the rail of the boat. The peaceful surroundings were washing away her anger and frustration at Molotov easily enough. She really enjoyed the swamps of Fiorair, there was just something so peaceful and timeless about them, as if they had lived for centuries and never changed. It just felt ancient to her and she couldn’t help but wonder at the fact that if the trees could talk, they would have some amazing things to say about what had taken place here. They held memories that even the draconian race had probably long since forgotten.

The fact that the elf had spoken up about some kind of evil within the ruins was no great surprise to Kyo, nor did it worry her greatly. There were some strong fighters amidst those who had gathered and she felt confident enough in their skills that they could all make it out of this alive.

[Molotov]

Molotov was glad to have Ziggy. It wasn’t that he could trust Ziggy, though he did. It wasn’t because Ziggy was one of the best fighters Molotov had ever met, though that was also true. The real reason Molotov was glad to have Ziggy was he knew that the two of them had the important things in common. They’d both grown up poor and managed to escape the harshest aspects of their lives by means that neither of them would have been proud of. They had both loved, they’d loved far too much, and neither had anything to show for it. Yet, as Molotov observed as the two of them stood on the deck of the riverboat, looking out into an unseen jungle that they had never known before, “We’re a bloody pair of crusty ass kids moved out from the gutter who are here to kill monsters now. We’re not the kind of people who are in this for the glory, we’re in this to survive.”

Smirking, the mutant put an appreciative arm around Ziggy. “You’re a good one,” Molotov said. “If we had more buggers like you around here, those bloody monsters would have left before we even showed up…”

With that said, Molotov took a look around the deck, trying to gauge the rest of the rag tag group of misfits that had agreed to come and become founding members of the Bandit Brotherhood. With the exception of himself, none of the people on the deck were particularly famous on Althanas, though that didn’t bother the former Gisela General. Both the Bandit Brotherhood and the mutant had made their lives working within the margins of society, and there was no reason why either group should stop now.

What Molotov wanted was to find out who the new leaders of his group would be. He and Kyo might have been in charge, but in an organization of bandits, titles didn’t mean much. The real leaders were the people who were respected because they stood up and took charge where necessary. Molotov had no doubt that both he and Kyo would. “We bloody went and danced for the lizard generals, for fuck’s sake,” Molotov reminded himself. “Bloody think that either of us is gonna quit now when it’s actually starting to get interesting. Hell no…”

Still, Molotov wasn’t sure who else would step up, most of them were just strangers he had met at the Minstrel’s Perch. Molotov hadn’t even met one of them, a young thief from Lavinya by the name of Jared. From what the mutant understood, he was a friend of Kyo. By default, that made the mutant suspicious. Kyo was far too attractive for most of her male friends to be of much use. However, there were others he had more hope for. The Ice Elf had stood up to Kyo in the Minstrel’s Perch, and even though her attitude was a bit more cynical than the mutant might have wanted, she would be able to stand up for herself when needed. Luthien Rayner was another person who Molotov had some hope for, and a strange man named Saxon who had been confined to his cabin with illness might be of use once they reached land.

Ultimately, Molotov looked forward to finding out what the answer was. He didn’t know just yet, but he looked forward to finding out. They’d have to be knocked down before he could see who got back up again.

[Papa Dagon]

There was a convergence occurring up on the deck, but today Dagon had no desire to bond with his fellow misfits. Not now, at least. For one, they’d already bonded at the Minstrel’s Perch, sitting in a circle and blowing what he’d remembered as rainbow-colored smoke rings, though half the time he’d seen diamonds and squares chasing each other through the pulsing haze. They’d shared tankards, they’d shared spliffs. In his books, they were damned brothers now, and apparently that was the case in theirs as well.

No, there was also another reason, one he didn’t share with the motley assembly of humans and draconians above: it’d make them as queasy as kids standing on a bed of worms. Dagon was always the showman, never the killjoy. Telling them would go against his philosophy, and that was something he didn’t consider with a kind eye. His principles, arbitrary as they were, made his world go round.

“Almost there, boyos,” Dagon said, sitting cross-legged on the grimy floors of his quarters. He fished inside a bladder-skin pouch that lay at his feet in a crumpling heap, producing from its depth a straw necklace, two small vials, one empty and the other sloshing with a yellow liquid, a length of crude string, a piece of silex and what seemed like fulgurite – petrified thunder. After uncorking the full vial with his teeth, he dipped the band of straw into what smelled like a mix of urine and some toxic poison. For all intents and purposes, that was exactly what it was.

Satisfied, he stowed them away, moving on to the string, sharp rock and desert glass. He knotted the red thread around the crackling glass in a strange pattern, then set it before him, picking up the silex. With one flick, he sliced a gash from the middle of his forearm to the elbow, letting the a slow stream of red ooze out to drip onto the dusty glass. When it went from dark grey to deep red, he moved the leak over the empty vial, collecting his blood like a clepsydra does the rain. “Stone and blood, still thunder and liquid fire. Here’s a mighty fine gris-gris for ye both, Diable Tonnere, Ogoun.”

The ritual for the crafting of a gris-gris, a magical fetish that serves as the medium between sorcerers and the Loa, was nearly complete. It was, however, all he could do, stranded on a ship, stranded on water. What he needed now relied on the whims of nature. Such was the disadvantage of these magics, but the difficulty that comes with one’s making also makes one’s immense power. He would have to seek the volatile lightning in which dwells the devil of thunder, as well as a natural flame, where usually rests the warrior spirit that presides over fire. The odds of encountering both anytime soon were slim to none.

“That’ll be that, for now,” Dagon said in a sigh while staunching the bleeding with a kerchief. “It’s a chore, doing this every day. You’ve got me into one odd career, Baron.” He shook his head, dark and dusty dreadlocks bobbing from side to side. The room was empty, devoid of any life save his own. It seemed that he’d only spoken out of reminiscence, addressed a memory long gone. That is, until something spoke back.

“Got ye inta nothin’ you didn’t want fo’ you’self,” said the dark-leather top hat on his hammock, its disembodied voice sounding nasally and tinged with a foreign accent. “Oh Baron dis, oh Baron dat! Always complainin’ about ye own choices to Baron Samedi! Why don’t ye do somethin’ useful for once and po’ me some of dat Deru Rum ye always carry ‘round? Ye ceaseless whining dries my gullet!”

Dagon replied with nothing but a smirk, rummaging under the folds of his long coat for the neck of his trusty flask. Close to the hand, close to the heart. With an expert motion of the thumb, he uncapped the flagon and hefted it high, right above the hollow of the talking hat, letting it drip in a stream of vivid red and purple. He was, however, quick to pull back and stopper the container: there was only so much of it, and it needed to last the trip. They were, after all, going to kill monsters. “And there’s only one way to celebrate that.”

Dagon rose to his feet, unfolding the tattered sleeve down his arm to hide his wound. Then, with a swoop of the other, he picked up the hat, spun it like ball and plopped it onto the crest of his head. Nothing splashed, nothing drizzled; there was not so much as a drop of alcohol that fell from the upturned hat. The Witch Doctor made no sign of noticing that oddity. All he did was leave his quarters, far too busy ignoring the relentless yammering of his talking topper.


Up on the deck, he felt the rancid dampness of the swamps hit him like a warm, wet fart. He’d never get used to Dheathain and its unbearable humidity, and this was by far the worse wave of it he’d felt since he first set foot here. Back in the plains of Deru, the climate was usually set to ‘deadly heat-haze’, but at least it was dry. Good, dry death. Better than constantly living with your knickers sticking to your pouches and riding up your cleft.

He made his way toward the bow, where the bulk of the Brotherhood had gathered. There was the man who wore his piercings as comfortably as he did his stubble, Molotov, and not far off was that lanky gem from the east, Kyo. He noticed the other two men he’d met at the Perch and that surreal elf girl he’d encountered last. There were a few other new faces, one with red hair and the others with colorful scales covering their skin. He’d seen Erionn, but the rest must have gotten on after he’d taken off to his room for his daily ceremonies.

“Mighty fine weather ‘ere, ya?” he said casually as a sardonic greeting. “I’s sure everyone’s enjoying it, but does anyone know if we’re gonna get to Aiseirigh before our balls shrivel up? We’re not going skinny-dipping; we’re going to kill monsters ‘ere! Although…” he began with a bawdy glance at Kyo, making the rest of his sentence quite obvious to the other men.

[Bandit]

Ziggy looked out over the railing into the calmness which lurked within the fog. What Molotov had said struck home with the bandit. It had been a long while since Ziggy had felt the need to fight for something. Everything seemed to be in a rut with the young man as of late. All he did was fight to live and live to fight. However all that was changing once again. The Bandit Brotherhood had given Ziggy a place to call home before and once again the group of misfits was rising to the surface giving him a reason to live once more. He was willing to sacrifice mind and body alike to get this group off the ground, and he could feel the same intensity in both Molotov and Kyo which gave him hope that they may succeed in the task which many had foreseen failure.

Gripping the railing, Ziggy looked out through his mask of shadows to see the group around him. Most he had met briefly in the Minstrels Perch, however there were a few fresh faces which he had not seen before. One being the Draconians, who Ziggy decided to avoid at the current time due to trust issues he was facing with the giant lizards. The other new face was a man who seemed to be attached to Kyo. Every time Ziggy would look at him he seemed to be staring down the young female assassin. The past between the two of them was unclear to Zigurate, all he knew was that something existed between them and that made this man an ally for the moment. With each person, Ziggy held a given amount of trust, and then they had to earn or loose the rest. People like Molotov had gained enough to allow Ziggy to risk everything for them. However there were a few members of the Althanian population which Zigurate could care less about, and those people would not be trusted any more then the monsters which lay in wait at the ruins.

As time seemed to tick by at an extremely painful rate, Ziggy couldn’t help but judge the fellow members on the boat. Many of which had never been a part of the original Brotherhood, and therefore Ziggy instantly questioned their motives. He could not decide as to whether many of these people were simply in on this quest to achieve some sort of self fame which killing monsters would bring. Or perhaps they were thinking this Brotherhood would be a good way to pass some time and to use as a safe house for whenever they felt like a free room and some good food. These questions plagued Ziggy as he continued to question motives throughout the members of the boat. All he could do was hope that perhaps he was wrong and that these people were truly interested in rebuilding the Brotherhood. If they saw the group at its former greatness they would want that to return with the burning intensity which existed within Zigurate and Molotov alike.

With a wave of his hand. Ziggy let the shadowy cloak which kept him hidden for so long dissipate. Making his way back over to Molotov, Ziggy leaned against the wooden wall of the rocking vessel. “You know these monsters are not going to stop me and you let alone the rest of the members we have rounded up. I know you are willing to go in alone just as eagerly as I am. I have a feeling if we can possibly spread our intensity among the other members these monsters wouldn’t stand a god damned chance. A speech about the olden days should spark some interest. Something to get their blood pumping?” As Ziggy spoke, he thought about the many battles he fought through for the Brotherhood. How many times he had been injured and yet would gladly go through the pain and blood loss for the one thing he cared about. Molotov was always a better speaker, and had a way to get people rattled and ready to fight, so the young bandit stood by his friend hoping that the fiery mutant could come up with some motivational stories.

[Lavinian Ambition]

The comments of the rather unruly man with the top hat somehow managed to light the fire under Jared. While a band of Misfits they were, he couldn't tolerate the rather crass behavior of the other man in relation to Kyo. Perhaps it was the budding relationship with Kyo, or perhaps it was the fact that he just was that type of guy. Still as things began to get jovial he felt a bit out of place amidst the swarm. Perhaps laying on the edge of the crowd had indeed been a bad decision.

So, he stepped forward, moving over to the group as they talked and joked. A grin was on his face as he walked over, though he certainly felt the fires of pride in his chest. Moving up he moved to stand between the crazy voodoo user and Kyo as he spoke his tone at least Jovial, "I suppose we could all go skinny dipping. Might be fun you know, with only two women...oh yeah, that'd be the best sausage fest ever if you're into that sort of thing."

He let the words linger as he pondered where to go having forced himself into the situation. Now he had to divert anger form him about the rather sarcastic statement. Figuring something out, he went with it, "Lets think of it another way. Lets get this shindig started, I mean we take care of a few monsters, go back to town find a couple of cute girls, and bingo! Instant heroes. I mean chicks dig guys who do that stupid shit all the time, right?"

Those words were thrown at Molotov. He had heard a little bit about the mutant from Kyo, and what he heard was certainly not good. Still, he allowed himself a soft chuckle as he mingled now with the others, and form the elf girl to the Mutant, he'd have to walk a mighty thin line. After all no one really knew about his relationship with Kyo, and he arguably was fighting to keep it so. If it turned as serious as he hoped it would, he didn't want people complaining to him hoping he'd rectify a bad watch schedule, or worse, try to get favors form him by doing things.

He'd heard enough horror stories about such things, no, he wanted to enjoy his time here. Darith wanted him to explore the world a bit more, and decide what to do in life. Jared of course reaffirmed his oath of loyalty to Darith, but the situation was not so simple. He truly would have to prove his loyalty later, or he'd be hunted by Hawk no less. Still with the lack of appearance by Rose, he figured the rumors of her in Dheathain were bunk, and so he merely prepared for the task at hand.

Perhaps if Jared had read the situation better, he wouldn’t have put his foot in his mouth…

[MiaKane]

Those who had joined into this ragtag venture seemed to be at the least, a colorful lot to the ice elf. Herself being an oddity amongst the population of even such common places as Corone. There would have to be a lot of change in each and every one of them to ever keep such a dream echoing into the future. Mia Knew that this was more of a test run of sorts, just to see if any of them really wanted this sort of thing, but she could see where each of them would need to change.

Her days as the co leader of the D.Z.S. had prepared her through their faults and pains to understand just what it took to be a member of a group, let alone with this small a size, a team. She could see it in their eyes that at most only a few had ever even been a team with just another, let alone a group this large. Kyo would have to learn how to keep Molotov happy, yet still get the same goals accomplished. Molotov would have to learn to look out for other, and not just himself and understand Kyo's needs. Jared would have to stop being so cautious around Kyo, his sheer demeanor spoke easily of how he felt about the Akashiman. The one called Ziggy, she didn't know much about, but she could figure that he was looking for some kind of reliving of the past, which as she knew was always a near impossibility. He would have to learn to move forward.

Saxon, he is just an odd duck, to old for this kind of work, but to rare to ignore. Mia knew that the only thing he really needed to do was to relax a little. Then there was Dagon, a man almost too relaxed for this business. Luthien she figured was just the green horn of the group, fresh out of womb of civilization. He would probably learn things the hard way.

Of course there was always the ice elf herself, the introspective free spirit, or as she liked to honestly refer to herself, the “conceded little bitch”. Her problem was that she never really stuck with much of anything, she tried to keep relations to a minimum due to the work they took. Her most destructive feature in this whole affair was that she had been a leader before, she knew what kind of work it would take to make something out of this mess. While she would try to offer advice, the trust of her opinion would probably fall on deaf ears simply from the certain amount of distrust each of these members had towards the rest.

Not to mention her other flaw was that she was already starting to side with Kyo in just about everything. Not just because the Akashiman was smart, level headed and seemed to be the driving force in things.

But because Mia found her to be rather fetching.

A sly smile crested her lips as she watched the Akashiman out of the corner of her eye, tracing her form slowly. Mia did have to mentally acknowledge just how nice Kyo's khakis accentuated her trained form.

With a grunt of humor she stood after listening to Jared's little talk. She held onto the fishing pole still as she moved over and leaned against the railing, giving him a short look before gazing aimlessly amongst the boat.

“Mmm...sausage fests...anyway, I can honestly say that doing stupid shit only hooks stupid girls. Have to say that I prefer a male who has the balls to do what he wants just cause he wants to. My late husband sacrificed his own life to prove he had the stones to take down the last leader of the Bandit Brotherhood. It was all in a tournament of course, but alas, he still did it. “ Mia paused for a smile and a short laugh” Fucked that vampire like there was no tomorrow after the monks revived him.”

[Kyo]

There were conversations going on that she didn’t care to take part in. Kyo could be a naturally social person, but for some reason right now she just felt like enjoying the company of no one in particular, which seemed to mean she was enjoying Erionn’s company for the Draconians General had yet to leave her side. She didn’t mind all that much, he was quiet for the most part and usually only spoke to her when she prompted him to and since she wasn’t entirely in the mood for conversation that was probably a good thing.

Sighing, she turned her back on the approaching trees and the ever present fog, leaning against the rail instead and watching as the others all interacted and get to know one another. One of the men in particular appeared to be paying her a little more attention than the others and so was that elf she had met up with outside The Minstrel’s Perch. It appeared that the attention had warranted a few words from Jared though, and the ninja could feel her cringe on the inside. Outwardly she made no change in her expression. That thief was getting too defensive over nothing. She didn’t want anyone to know about her relationship with Jared, whatever it may be. Not right now anyway, not until they had settled themselves in their new home and she was accustomed to being a leader. Not until she figured out exactly what kind of relationship the two of them had.

“If it’s just your balls that you’re worried about, Dagon,” Kyo said with a sarcastic smirk, her voice carrying across the deck to the gathered group, “I think it’s too late to save them, not that you’re going to miss them I’m sure.”

She heard a soft, but deep chuckle come from next to her.

The last legs of the journey she spent in silence, never really moving from her perch at the front of the ship and not really bothering to open her mouth to speak either. All too quickly it seemed to end for her though.

“Are you still so confident in the men that you have gathered?”

The ninja turned her cold, blue eyes towards Erionn as he asked the question, glancing across the harsh lines and features of his face. There was no mocking smirk upon it though, no laughter in his eyes, just a genuine question.

“Yes.”

“Good, you’re going to need it.”

She didn’t really understand what he meant as first, then she glanced towards the swamp he seemed so keen on watching now. At first she saw nothing but the trees, the water and the fog. Then she watched as the trees thinned and disappeared, leaving a clearing for their boat to aimlessly drift in. Then through the veil of white and grey that was forever coating this world, she caught the first glimpse of Aiseirigh, what was to be their home. Then it all came into view, as if the very Gods above had parted the mist for them and allowed them to see with their own eyes what they were fighting for right now.

Like some ancient and mystical fortress it came into view. The grey stone that made up the walls and the homes and what had once been a magnificent city rose from the water and the mist and climbed onto the large outcropping of land that jutted and appeared like one great creature of the sea. It was a place neglected and fallen into ruin, where the strong walls still clung to the hope that they could be revived one day, never truly giving in to the decay even as nature eroded them and toppled them over one by one. The outer areas of the ruins appeared to have the most damage, the ones closest to the water, but the farther in she looked the more she realized the central area seemed relatively intact, as if people still possibly lived there.

The land the ruins resided on was large and appeared quite fertile, covered in vines and ferns and moss that grew thick and heavy in the heat and humidity. It appeared that a portion of the ruins were under water though and that what Kyo and the others were looking at right now was merely a fraction of what this city had once been.

This was where they were going to make their base. In the ruins of one civilization they were going to build a new one.

The boat came to a stop with a sudden jerk as the bottom touched land.

“We’ll wait here for your return...”

Turning her eyes to the worried gaze of Erionn, the ninja let a cool smile spread across her lips as she moved away from him and off towards the side of the vessel where two Draconians were currently lowering a wooden plank towards the ground. Nodding her head in thanks to them, she turned around to those that had gathered, believing that they could revive the Brotherhood once more. Kyo was not that great at making motivational speeches, but as a leader she knew she had to say something.

“You’ve all gathered here because you believe in what Molotov and I are trying to create. You believe in The Bandit Brotherhood and what it stands for. But now has come the time when belief isn’t enough, when you’ll have to take action in order to prove to us exactly what your capable of and what you can give to our clan.” Her eyes came to rest on Jared as she said the last line, then quickly moved away and scanned the rest of the faces. “Now is the time when you have to fight for what you want and what you believe in... for The Brotherhood!”

It felt kind of silly to her to make a motivational speech to them all, perhaps even a bit embarrassing, but she didn’t let any of that colour her face. She was going to have to get used to this. Turning her back on the group they had gathered, Kyo made her way down the wooden plank, first to take a step on the surprisingly dry soil of the island.

[MiaKane]

The wall of white broke like the curtains at a theater as they finally reached their destination. Mia was quite impressed by the sheer size of the place, in her experience of forgotten places, other than the lost city of Dramach, she had never seen a place quite as vast that seemed so empty.

Kyo showed her skills as a leader as she took charge, Mia hadn't heard a leader give a speech since Reveric had lead them against their enemies so many years ago. She had thought earlier about how one of the members seemed to be trying to relive some past glory, but maybe it was Mia that was seeking some semblance of those memories she cherished beyond anything else in her world.

A coal encased ember broke away inside of her, the fire finally getting a breath of air as the flame breached forth, boiling her blood. That little voice of reason took a holiday and forgot to check the straps on her voice of unreason as it awoke.

Sex, drugs and rock n roll!

Random thoughts, even for the Ice elf, not that it mattered, the rolling boil of her blood made her body anxious, twitchy so to speak as she rocked on her feet for a moment, watching Kyo before the words broke from deep within her psyche.

“Hell yeah! Lets get to work ya bloody camel fuckers!” she yelled as she threw the remainder of her cig into the water and all but jumped off the boat, clearing the ramp in a single step as she hit the ground somewhat hard. She couldn't really understand why she was so excited to get to work, either it was the long boat ride, or that for once again in her life,

She really felt like something mattered.

“Hey!” she yelled at one of the Draconians who took a moment to react by pointing at himself” Yeah you, make sure that those fish are nice and cooked for us when we get back cause we're all going to be hungry!”

Already she was switching into her cautious hunting attitude, her senses tingling as she hoped to be the first to get a shot at whatever nasties awaited them inside their new home.

[Lavinian Ambition]

The branches of the trees drooped under the very humid atmosphere as the thickness of it smothered Jared. He could hear the distant buzzing of insects the occasional call of a bird as they continued. Everything seemed tense following his rather blunt interjection into the conversation. While Kyo had made light of the situation by questioning the reproductive capability of the Shaman, he was certain there would be a few words later about this particular incident.

Call it a hunch, but he knew when he was in trouble.

As the boat came to a halt he saw Kyo once more take the charge as Leader and spoke, rather eloquently, similar to when Darith had roused the thieves for a raid. She spoke of doing your share, and at that moment he locked eyes with her. While Radasanth was more than a few months old, and the rather brutal fight in Roland's manor had nearly seen him gutted, he was more than certain he was battle ready. However, it wasn't that that she would seem interested in. It was his more light approach to violence. It wasn't to say he was a pacifist, he just agreed with the ideals now and again.

Still, as she continued to give her speech of motivation she gave out the cry and he nodded as he echoed it. She then started the charge by disembarking from the boat. Jared moved swiftly in line behind the elf who had spoken up after chuckling about her last lover, and found himself on the land. His eyes scanned the ruins, looking for anything exploitable. Before him, much to his dismay stood a fortress unlike any other he had seen before. He moved forward slowly as he eyes the dark patches where holes had developed in the various buildings. Anything could have nested in this place, and he was more than certain more than a few things had.

Oddly enough, the fact that the middle area of the ruined fortress was pristine concerned him most. Was there magic here? Was something protecting the place? Would it attack them? How much did they know? A million thoughts raced through his mind as he let his hand rest on the pommel of his daggers, ready to draw at a moment's notice. He let his ears wander the ruins ahead of them, listening to the resounding footsteps of his fellow bandits as he did. Already his thoughts about how to use his training evading guard went to work; training that ironically could be used to catch a thief. As he listened he heard the scratch of something against stone.

He paused as he narrowed his eyes, looking over the fortress for something. He could almost imagine some predator smiling as its next meal walked willingly into the lair it had created. While the thought troubled him he took another step, listening for the sound of scratching stone once more, hoping to see what exactly was hunting in the area. He knew it would be a tough fight, but it would be a fight none the less. Not exactly the type of thing he could shy away from.

Still, how could you avoid a trap, when all you knew was it existed?

[Papa Dagon]

“Ooh, snap!” Dagon said as he feigned a wounded pride. It was nowhere near convincing, due to the wide-lipped smile that split his face from ear to ear. He applauded Kyo’s sense of repartee and took the insult with good heart, quite happy that the Brotherhood didn’t consist of a bunch of puritans like that Jared fellow. He’d already known that from his first meeting with Molotov, but sometimes the question would come back and crawl around his head until it was appeased by a good, snarky comment.

But there wasn’t any time to revel or dwell, for the boat’s keel was now grinding against solid land, slipping on muddy loam until it stopped with a dry jerk. Terra Firma. The black-haired beauty took this opportunity to make a speech. It was halfway decent to his ears, and that was saying a lot: he was the kind of bloke who though the best ones consisted of five words and a warcry, but he could appreciate a well-weaved string of words. After all, he did meet with this half-glum and half-merry crew while on his lounge singer job at the Minstrel’s Perch, performing a piece of his own.

And that was that. They all clammed up and went on to fall in her strides, down the boat and into uncharted territories. All of them save for that libertarian elf, of course, whom he’d come to know as the excessively free spirit of the organization. More than Molotov, more than even Dagon himself – and that wasn’t exactly meant as a compliment. That said, he didn’t hate the girl, or even dislike her. Sometimes she was like bees in his ears, but she did know when to be a comedy relief and when to get serious. Incidentally, that time was now.

The redhead boy was already on the prowl, exploring the ruins as if it were the den of a lion. Dagon had done that before in his lands, and quite literally at that; the itch from the scars on his back made him empathize with the kid. What monsters lay here in wait could very well be worse. As a child, he’d only done so to recover his father’s stone pipe, which he stole and smoked in secret in a vacant den that, in retrospect, wasn’t quite so vacant. He got to pay for it dearly. This time, though, they weren’t simply here to borrow the fortress; they were here to take the whole sodding place for themselves, its feral occupants be damned.

The scuffing of stone reached his ears a bit later than they had the boy. One of the tenants was looking to get rowdy. He could feel it lurk and watch, but there was only danger when he could feel its friends gather round like a pack of hyenas. ‘Damn, can’t see them, but they’re there alright.’

With the most deliberate of movements, he slid his hand into the pouch at his side, picking out a handful of seeds and beans. With his other, he picked out a bulbous little thing from his coat pocket, like a miniature tree with a scowling face, tied to the inside of his clothes by a sturdy green string. It was another gris-gris, one he’d created ages ago in the Lone Woods of Deru, that still helped him even today.

The action made some of the bandits quirk their brows. Dagon smiled: he’d just realized none of them had ever seen a witch doctor fight.