A luxury resort... hospital?

[Slavegirl]

((Open to any who want to join up with something in the Outlander's Quarter))

Natalya slept soundly, and it took the little maid who cleaned the hotel at night several minutes to wake the former slave. As she opened her eyes, she frowned at the panicked expression on Dihpa's face and sat up groggily. The girl babbles something to her employer and then rushed away leaving Natalya to slowly translate what she'd said.

We're being attacked by the Sun...

Surely that wasn't right - how can the sun attack? Natalya shook her head, and began to stand up, but was forcibly knocked back to her bed as the percussion of a loud explosion very nearby rocked the hotel. Well they were definitely under attack, she agreed, quickly grabbing her clothes and dressing before heading out the door, crossbow in hand.

The clients were huddled in the elegant lobby, murmuring frightened suppositions to each other as the staff rushed around in a hurry as though they understood the situation perfectly. Natalya glanced at the clients with a look of concern, braced herself against the front desk as another explosion shook the resort and sent a cascade of shrieks and gasps through the foreigners.

"Elgosh," she shouted, grabbing her bellboy by the arm and forcing him to meet her azure gaze, "What the hell is happening? It's barely light in the east - who's doing this?"

"Oh... M-m-iss Natalya, it's terrible - the Cult of Mitra is attacking us. And they have brought harpies who drop fiery bombs over the city," he whimpered, clinging to her arm for a moment.

"Why are they attacking us? I know they don't like Jya, but this is something that hasn't ever been done before has it?" she asked him, trying to focus his attention as yet another blast rocked the hotel, this one close enough to shake the plaster from the ceiling.

"Nobody knows," he cried, pulling away from her and disappearing around a corner with a large box that she knew held the best dishes. They'd better not be stealing her dishes and linens - she'd put up her own pay for that in order to bring more prestige to The Phoenix Rising. With a disgruntled shake of the head, she moved over to the panicked guests, a calm smile plastered on her face.

"I am Natalya Tichenyanchova, manager and concierge of The Phoenix Rising, and I apologize for the inconvenience this uprising has caused. I'm quite certain that it will all be sorted out momentarily. Please remain calm and be assured that your safety and comfort is our foremost concern," she reassured them, sending out waves of calm and strength to the guests to quell the rush of panicked thoughts that had been flooding over her since she woke up.

"But..." an overly dressed woman surrounded by luggage moaned, "Where shall we go? We'll all be dead if we stay here!"

"Lanrai," Natalya called, and a small elderly man who seemed to be the only one not panicking approached her with a respectful bow, "Please take our guests to the wine cellar - it seems the safest place in light of everything else. The steel door will protect them from fire should this hotel burn and there is food enough down there to last them for several weeks, god forbid that becomes necessary."

Lanrai simply nodded and began to herd the only slightly less agitated guests toward the back of the lobby where he ushered them into the taproom and through a door which led downstairs into the hotel's basement. She hoped they'd only have to stay there for a couple of hours, but as she opened the main entrance and glanced outside at the burning city, she doubted that would be the case.

[Storm Veritas]

It had been an awful long time since he had had a good smoke, and this one was fantastic.

The soft taste of nicotine on his tongue was smooth and calming as he drew in a long pass from a cigarette, carelessly letting the smoke filter above into the treeline. This was the hardest part – waiting while others did the work. From the crest of the hill, he looked down on the little hotel, and the harpies which flew over dropped a dozen or so of those large, flaming balls. They would ravage the place, set it aflame, create chaos and disorder. His role was simple – wait until the initial barrage was over, then sneak in and take the girl.

Being recruited was tricky. They had come to him in a cloudy time – a day when he wondered his fates, the turn of the tides, and his role on the earth. Many had been like this. Would he become the better man, or continue to do as he pleased, the hedonist, the self-server?

They didn’t give him much choice. He was taken in the night, having let his guard down on the back side of too many tall steins and short glasses of firewater. They brought him to their leader, an awful bitch of a woman who told him what he was to do. There was a dangerous one, she said, one that must be taken and/or eliminated. The girl was Natalya, and as soon as he heard the name, he agreed to join.

Natalya, you’ll never let me close, will you?

He had befriended her before, met her, loved her even, and knew that her past was far more checkered and disturbing than even his own. She would never believe why he was coming, why he had joined the side of these harpies. The Storm Veritas she knew would have either killed them on the spot, or killed her upon trying to overtake her. Anything else would be crazy.

And the plan was crazy, as best as he could see. Far too risky. The consistent bombardment was like a rolling drumbeat, constant and rhythmic. He winced inside with each explosion, hoping for the best and praying against logic. She could, he estimated, escape the initial blasts. She was smart, clever, well versed in combats. The bombs would send her deep, into a bunker or basement or somewhere strong and sturdy. There wouldn’t be many places here to go. From there, he could split from these demonic creatures, find her, and take her – they could then overcome these harpies together, Natalya and he – given that the little bat-bastards would lose many in the bombing. Of course, he wasn’t sure yet how he would be sure that no harpies escaped to tell that merciless bitch of a boss that he had turned, and that the slave girl had survived.

Of course, if they couldn’t, he needed only kill all the harpies that he saw and survive himself, to return victorious with the kill in hand. The motive may have been pure enough, but he hadn’t lost all sense of reason. The opportunity to hedge his bet hadn’t slipped past unnoticed.

”Spose that’s the best I can do, huh, bud?

Flicking his cigarette to the moist earth, he dismounted Attila and petted the mighty stallion’s snout firmly. He considered tying his horse to a tree, but had to enlist faith – he couldn’t bear to lose the beautiful beast should the fire climb the treeline. Besides, the untied horse would make a fast getaway, and by the incredible fervent pace of the dive-bombing harpies, he would need one.

“Stay here, Attila. I won’t be long.”

With that, he crouched, and began to creep down the hill in the darkness. He was coming for her, and hoped he could save her before she killed him in the process.

[Corvus MacCallum]

It came suddenly much like an explosion...well in fact,exactly like an explosion,a smoking and relatively scathed duality of shapes being flung across the blackened street and smashing side-long into what were previously quite attractive windows that would lead to the resorts reception lobby. With a clamour of iron, fur and heated swearing came the rather unusual sight of a somewhat crispy Highlander male, clutched in his grip was a very large, rather impressive but somewhat plain Iron Slammer sword that had been given quite a pleasant acessory in the form of a Harpy shaped hilt, with real bleeding action. Among the shouts and yells of those not used to combat or just shell shocked from the current situation came one over bearing growl and a declaration of..

"...Bloody hell..thats given me a right bastard between the eyes"

Whining like a pup he released his grip on the sword, slumping back slightly to gather himself, the edges of his clothing had been slightly blackened, the tips of his even messier mane smoking in select places, blood trickling from his left temple... mostly caused by the impact and a rather bad gash on his right shoulder, following the shape of the wounds it was easy to assume his Harpy decoration hadn`t come willingly but it wasn`t capable of putting up a fight anymore, lodged as it was fully through the chest of the sword, its wings seeming broken but gave the hints of being injured and having itself claimed in the streets rather than the Wolf-boy leaping from a roof-top to take down a low flying one...surely such an action was mad...or at least a touch impulsive.

It took him some time for his eyes to open and when he did grumbled louder than his growl,rubbing at them, attempting to free his sight from the ash and shreds of feathers,pressing his clawed furred foot to the dead Harpy and wrenching his sword free in a rather..liberating display of gore...one down only an utter skyful left along with many other future conquests. Glancing about with a real annoyance in his sight, locking his gaze on the now ruined curtains and yanking the material free giving a light dabbing to his prized blade, despite his great hearing the ringing of a nearby bomb drop hadn`t left him yet so any complaints fell upon deaf ears until at last he found the reassurance to rise though leaning heavily on his sword, taking in the assorted folks wondering who was in charge...or at least who would attempt to bust his nuts for ruining those silk coverings. There wasn`t much he could muster except a somewhat bloody fanged smirk.

"....Heyup"

[Slavegirl]

A wolven warrior came crashing into the lobby at Natalya's feet, causing her to step back and lose her train of thought on the foreigners she'd just shoved into the basement. He had some sort of bird creature, and she realized with a shudder that the haggish form that twitched at the end of his blade was a harpy.

As he jerked his blade from the harpy's chest, Natalya sighed disgustedly - not at the sight of blood, but at the sight of blood ruining priceless rugs and staining the brick floors. She'd be scrubbing that for weeks, and have to purchase new rugs - probably in Salvar with her luck.

Of course then he just had to turn around and clean his sword on her silk curtains. The palest blue Raieaeran silk that had covered windows of exquisite amethyst Cillu glass - both of which had cost her months of pay and several favors. With an angry growl she approached him.

"Oh good God, at least clean your blade on the rugs you've already seen fit to ruin," she hissed angrily at him, jerking the tattered curtains from his furry hand and inspecting them for any possiblity of recovery - there was no hope for them unfortunately.

Another firebomb slammed into the hotel, followed by the raucous shrieks of an angry harpy who was being chased by several merchants throwing their wares at them - glass blades, and other shards of glass - all of which sliced and caught her feathers and wings, making her slowly fly lower to the ground until they overtook her. Natalya watched this through the broken window, then turned to the Wolf-boy with a grim nod.

"I suppose you'll have to stay and make yourself useful - we'll need someone able to help defend the place, and you do owe me for the damages afterall," she told him solemnly.

[Corvus MacCallum]

Despite the chewing out and rather thorough clamour of destruction outside the Highlander managed to retain something of a chipper demeanour through all the lasses words. Though technically a little distracted,picking fragments of glass and harpy flesh from his hide and rubbing his blade along the wrecked carpeting...okay so blood stains material horribly...but the stuff rusts and he can`t be having that...a rusted slammers no use,one swing and the damned thing is likely to powder on impact.

"Well that sounds fair enough though you`ll be waiting for some jaunt on replacement money I`m skint heh..."

Scratching along the back of his mane the Wolf-boy decided to take a quick test of his surroundings using his nasel passages..quite a refined little place this had been,certainly not somewhere he would have been admitted in his current state heh...she seemed to have some degree of finery to her,faint traces of expensive spices that rarely go on just any plebs dinner plate. Hefting up his now...mostly clean though sticky blade he brought it to his shoulder...somewhat wishing he had taken up archery instead, bit of a lighter load.

"So uh...anything you`d like me to handle immediately or shall I just head up to the second floor and start pouncing on any old bird with a grudge heh?"

At least that was one small benefit, Harpy hatred..if they had more intelligence and kept purely aloof they`d be buggered since the damn things would never fly close enough to injure but since they enjoyed the death and torment they sometimes liked to get closer for a nice view of their handiwork....which was good,he hated leaping from too tall a height,that horrible,dull sickly feeling you get in your shins afterwards...enough to make a mongrel shudder.

[Storm Veritas]

The night that they had approached within was pitch black, but today it lit up an electric orange, like some neon strobe. The firebombs had increased in frequency – hitting all about the large building and scattering around with great disparity. Each strike was accompanied by a colossal boom – something that made his heart thump harder and eyes widen a stretch. Sneaking up on this place was madness, but there was simply no other way. If he were to wait for the firebombing to be over, there was almost no doubt that fair Natalya would be dead, and these horrendous harpies would steal away into the night victorious.

His feet were fast, shuffling down the steep, wet hillside in tiny steps. The grass soaked through his soft-soled shoes, and he kept one hand above him, descending with caution. Were he to slip, it would be a long fall, and he’d be exposed to a lot of fire at an exceptionally bad time.

Two, two, one. Break. Two, two, one. Break.

The rhythm of the fire bombs had become quite regular, as the ten beastly things that simply soared overhead worked an even rotation. The break in time was barely enough to sneak through and into the window, but it would have to do.

From thirty feet away, he was sweating. The fire which took hold at the foot of the building was burning hot, and the hillside was beginning to dry. His eyes darted up to Attila, still high from him, safe from the fires, and strong. That damned horse could tear the tree out of its root if it meant running from fire, or so Veritas told himself. He couldn’t worry about his traveling companion now. It was loose and safe and fine. He had to focus on Natalya.

Boom – BOOM!

Boom- BOOM!

BOOM!...go.

He wouldn’t hesitate a step, and he launched himself from the side of the hill. The first two steps were easy, but he was moving too fast. A stumble, and he rolled over, tumbling about his shoulder. He was up, but disoriented. Move! Three hard steps to get going, and he was driving forward. The window was blown open. A large jump, and he was up in the air, leaping with incredible athleticism. A large cut as he came through, tearing his black clothes and forearm beneath it. He landed in a white hallway that was muchtoobright a half second before a nearby crashing sound.

Did they see me? Did they hear me? Where the hell is she in here?

He had entered, but was alone, a soft carpet under him and a hardwood wall before him. The glass on the floor was blown out, shards littering the ground like confetti at a wedding. He knew to move inside further, and scrambled around for some way to breach further. Getting more walls between himself and the source of those explosions was imperative.

Door. Go.

One door stood alone on the north face of the hallway, one that led inside. He didn’t hesitate. Although his first three steps were unorthodox, he straightened his course and hit the door at the same time that another firebomb lit behind him. The thud of his forearm and the mighty explosion coincided – an empowered yet painful feeling. The door thankfully yielded, and he was inside. Stumbling to the floor, he peeked around and sought sanctuary at the wall he entered through – a chance to compose himself and plan.

Perhaps you should have planned a bit more BEFORE entering the building that’s getting bombed, Aristotle.

[Slavegirl]

"Just keep the damn harpies out of the building - I don't need crazy bird women flapping around killing my guests," she told the wolfboy wearily, turning her blue eyes to the door that hid the cellars and her loyal patrons. The building shook again, another priceless window shattering with the concussion as another firebomb slammed into it. Shouldn't the damn bitches be attacking the Keep?

Having ushered the messmaker out of her way and up the marble stairs, Natalya started checking her employees - or at least those who hadn't run already - to see that they were armed. Most were, and had posted themselves at various windows throughout the hotel, ready to attack should the need arise. Natalya herself returned to the lobby of the hotel, where she stood at the front door and watched the city burning down around the hotel.

She stood that way for a long while, crossbow loaded, picking off the occasional harpy out of the sky. It would have completely slid over her, the change in the hotel, but something tugged at the corner of her mind, and she stepped back from the door to concentrate.

A mental headcount told her that someone had invaded the upper rooms of the resort. What suprised her was that she recognized the mind that crept through the rooms - with her as his target. With a crooked smirk, Natalya watched the marble stairs wondering when he would see fit to come downstairs and do whatever it was he planned - she couldn't poke that far into his mind without alerting him. She wondered if she should go find the wolf-boy and get her money's worth out of him. That would be a fun one. Her smirk cracked into a full-fledged grin, that twinkled all the way up to hauntingly azure eyes.

"So Storm, what are we waiting for?" she asked the man who was even now sneaking closer.

[Storm Veritas]

Scampering around the floor, he pressed his back to the wall for a deep breath. The crackle-snap was fast and repeating, the sound of a crossbow. Glancing, he saw her, the vision, the beauty.

It was her, Natalya, scary fast and full of more sex appeal than he could wrap his head around. Her body was impossibly tight and yet curvaceous, the type of round shapes in all the right places that could make a man lose his mind. Her Nordic cheekbones and bee-stung lips just further accentuated the sultry seductress and her demure ways. Storm knew first hand that those round, incredible eyes could be puppy dog sad or steel killers. This woman was a beast.

She spoke to him with nonchalance, the type often adopted by the heralding hardass soldier types. Those guys were more concerned with looking tough than fighting well, and some insanely pompous line in the middle of carnage generally made for a good epithet. Smiling up at her, Veritas knew better. Natalya was a survivor.

But this is hardly the place for small talk. We gotta move!

He motioned to her, his breath resigned as his lungs burned. His fingers were numb and his muscles tingled, endorphins surging through his system, revitalizing a fatigued frame. They would have to move quickly, find cover, get out, and get away from those bat-bitches and their awful leader. Up the hill, his horse waited.

It should be simple.

“We need to move!” he said, not trying to sneak but rather avoid startling her. “I’ve got the western hillside pretty barren. We can make a quick dash, and I’ve got a horse ready to get us away from here.”

He didn’t know if she would trust him, but he definitely held leverage of convenience. He’d be much more trustworthy than the winged demons raining hell upon the hotel, and he wouldn’t need to employ the silver forked tongue to charm her.

[Corvus MacCallum]

"I AM the feather pluckin' hound-dawg,coo coo ca frickin choo!"

He wasn`t sure what made him belt that out,this was the tenth time a Harpy had impacted those talons on his skull and maybe some of the rocks had jostled loose and brought on a few sparks...maybe it was that weird Bard he had seen yesterday who insisted on drinking very small ales from a very large glass but he was certainly putting his newest decleration into practice,one hand sinking deeper into the Harpies ruined shoulder as he rode her steadily downwards to the street,his free arm bashing the winged bitch with his elbow while raking his mongrel pointies along those finely muscled wings, on landing he got a nice fistful of flesh,tendons and feathers,yanking it free...if she tried to fly now it would only be in circles with that size of air-hole.

This would be his third today...still he had wounded a few..or at least given them a stiff flipping of the bird,just a shame his sword was handle deep in the roof he had lept from at the wonderful luxury resort he stood outside now in a stand-off with a profusely leaking harpy, must fetch it later...shame they put together such a vast offensive, otherwise harpy feathers would fetch a good price afterwards..but now those things are common as muck,bah..

"Alright get over here you squawking cutlet!"

Lowering down slowly as the Harpy gained its bearings...might as well have some kind of fight though few birds did well on the ground against wild dogs he charged in, she lashed out quite vigorously for such a lack of blood, good old death throes, her talons cracking with a metal clank against his buckler before the Highlander himself lashed out,the tips of his claws catching along a few select tendons in her neck..not aimed by any means but it made things easier as he gave one hard yank and felt the wet plop of her voice-box being caught by gravity and hammered into the ground. It clutched,it gasped,it attempted a final blow to his head but without much blood fueling those muscles he just took a few steps back and started to clamber through pre-broken window into the reception area, grumbling as his buckler started to dig into his fore-arm...bitch must have dented it.

[Slavegirl]

There he was, at the bottom of the stairs, though she hadn't seen him come down, distracted again by the sounds of carnage outside, and the need to halt the passage of yet another cultist who slunk by in the street with a torch in his hand. The meaty thunk of her crossbow bolt in his sternum followed by a pained groan and him toppling to the ground with three more bolts sticking from his chest and neck at precarious angles set a smile on Natalya's face as she turned and gazed on Storm. Handsome as always, those brilliant blue-grey eyes flashing like the sea in a lightning storm, and just as volatile, he made her smile brighten a little.

He motioned to her, and she approached him, but her arrow was trained on him regardless of how much she liked the man. Nobody could be trusted, she reminded herself as she swaggered up to him.

"If you think I'm going to leave this place, you really have lost what little mind you ever had," she replied to his frenzied demand that they move and quickly, "I put my lifeblood in this place, and if it spills all over the floor here, that's fine with me, so long as I know I did what I could."

She looked him over, and then twitched slightly as the sound of feet rose behind her. Natalya turned her crossbow on whoever had jumped through the window, but it was only the wolfboy, tracking bloody prints across the marble, and then onto yet another priceless rug. Rolling her eyes, she looked back at Storm.

"You are welcome to stay and help, but otherwise... you'll have to kill me to get me out of here," her voice was nonchalant, not reflecting the ruthless war that seethed around them. Not giving him the chance to answer, she turned her back on him and approached the wolf.

"Tell me," she said, "That the blood is all from those whorish bitches in the sky out there who are ruining my hotel. How many have you taken out?"

[Storm Veritas]

Well then, so much for riding the fence. Guess I’ll have to jump ship altogether.

His plans had spiraled out of control quite quickly, and he still hadn’t reached his feet. The emergence of some fur-covered monstrosity into the room was quite disturbing, and from his crouch, his hands flew to daggers. Unlike the other lunatic lycanthropes Storm had come to know, this one seemed bright eyed, intelligent, maybe juvenile. Natalya spoke to him as if he were a fruit stand salesman.

“What..?” He didn’t muster much before another crash, another explosion. The bombings had yet to cease. He could take some of the harpies down, but he thought of his mighty horse Attila. Were he to attack those he arrived with, would they not turn on him by hurting the beast?

Not like they’re going to mistake my lightning for someone else.

He stood, slowly, peering to the window. His legs and back screamed at him, tormenting him for being so chivalrous. This was by and large a very stupid plan. Moreover, he couldn’t hope the three of them could stop the harpies, there were simply too many. The hard, unflinching glare from Natalya suggested otherwise. They would not yield.

Go big or go home.

He assumed he’d have a few seconds to hit them by surprise before they made sense of it all. He stood, the cold air blasting his face as he looked out into the dark, starless night sky. The harpies above were almost invisible against the backdrop, soaring back and forth and dropping firebombs. Were it not for the bombs themselves, the flapping beasties would be silent.

He glared at a pack of tight harpies soaring towards them, three in a taut “V” shape some hundred feet up. Perfect. His fingers lit electric white as he flashed them forward, a massive explosion cascading forth from outstretched palms. The sizzle-snap of lightning was fast and unmistakable, arcing up in a beeline towards the head harpy. The lightning hit the concentrated incendiary, a massive explosion in the skies above. Three of them, to be precise, and down from the heavens rained flaps of extended skin and black-bile laden gore. Fireworks, as another culture would have it.

Oh, hell yeah…

Another burst followed, and another. Each blast was accompanied by the resultant explosion, the falling fur and flesh. It was outrageously successful, but made the source, one conspicuous traitor Storm Veritas, public enemy number one in the eyes of the harpies.

Though explosive and wildly effective, the electric surges were very draining. He was a target, and they were closing on him. In his fast weakening state, that would be a rough place to be.

[Corvus MacCallum]

How many..how many...he had the number in his head just before the last boom..was...hang on,carry the one...subtract the two.Okay so he didn`t seem quite the dashing wild beast counting on his fingers but you don`t learn much maths back in the homeland, but you were trained in how to skin and de-bone an elk before puberty that has to count for something.

"Ah there we go,three assured kills and ten winged quite badly...they do dribble quite a bit"

Still his words seemed quite pointless,she was still going to wring his hide in a futile attempt to get her money back for all the....well justifed damage dagnabit, a dead harpy bitch was far more important than a slightly soggy silk carpet.Wasn`t his fault those feather toting hellions wouldn`t go down with just a head-butt of a glancing blow from his sword,no they had to be dragged right down to the ground an-geez...this new guy was one hell of a sparker,quite a handy ability but ew his hands stank...sizzled hand fuzz stank to those with sensitive noses.

He couldn`t help but clench his left hand and run a claw along that jewel in the palm of his glove..wonder how it could be enchanted,be quite cool to unleash those kind of attacks,bet you get one hell of a shock when you touch someone afterwards though,all that 'leccy must really build up the static...must ruin the reputation slightly, unload a mass of lightning based attacks and fighting back the hoarde,then walk into some ruined party and balloons ambush you from head to toe...still back to the present his hand shouldn`t be empty right now.

"I`ll uh,just be back in a moment I left my sword up on the roof"

He smirked and took off,after passing the Sparker he lowered down onto all fours and tore right up into the upper floors. Either his ears were intentionally dulling the sounds of explosions or it was getting quiet..a resounding thunderous roar of explosives ripping apart anything in its path a street ahead reassured him that it was just his ears. Vaulting, skipping and generally clawing over the wrecked and debris strewn floor of this lovely little fixer upper upper upper opportunity, lightly tapping the door leading out onto a nice little veranda he`d been picking one or two Harpies off from and ooooh shizen...

He was being confronted with a rather bothersome view, his sword was there.. handle caught in the claws of a landed Harpy who must have been waiting for him to return, flapping its wings and grinning there was little other option though he was going to regret it in the aftermath.

"One second"

Leaving a confused Harpy he quickly ducked back into the resort, taking hold of one very heavy and oh so pricey vase with equally valuable flowers arranged in it,though in need of a bit of watering and charging through hurled it at the feathered fiend catching her in the chest and knocking the air out of her...along with dishevelling quite a bit of plumage the Harpy being flung back off the veranda and plummeting to the ground, Cor quickly scrabbling to his sword which had been released in the ensuing shattering of bone and ceramics, rummaging within his travel pack for a good length of rope among the fangs and bones rattling about.

C`mon c`mon ah!...bloody claws get out of the fabric,get out!

It was tricky but he distinctly heard the whinings of a Harpy in pain on contact with the ground,busying himself by coiling his rope around the handle and hilt of that huge slammer sword..no way was he jumping back down to the ground floor, he was not a bloody furred yoyo. Looking over the edge he watched the thing get up slowly, must have punctured a lung or something when the rib cage shattered and taking his blade with both hands hurled it downwards...purely by luck or fishing experiance with a harpoon it hit home,catching her in the fore-head and running right through to the ground,splitting it in two. Handy enough and with a grunt began the slow process of reeling in his sword...probably should have bought a hunting knife at some point and use that for these kind of ordeals.

[ShyRose]

The taste of dirt filled Charlie’s mouth. She could fell the soft ground below her. Pushing her right hand off the ground she concentrated on lifting her head. All her effort was useless. Her body lay limp on the ground. The surging pain in her head was unbearable. She must be having a nightmare. Why is everyone screaming? A large blast somewhere behind Charlie caused her to open her eyes. What was THAT? Whatever it was it was to close for comfort.

Charlie couldn’t see much from her view, but what she could see was enough to insure her she was not dreaming. A brilliant flame was burning a near by shed. By now the shed was overcome, and was beginning to crumble. She thought she saw a bird flying above the smoke. The confusion of the whole setting made Charlie finally ask the obvious question: What was she doing here?

She searched her brain for the right answer. It wasn’t long ago that she was on a ship with the Carter boys. She had first met them during her travels through Opasu. These gentlemen had saved her the trouble of buying her way across the filthy Sea of Opasu. The men were mostly polite, and the work was light. Cooking in the mornings, and washing in the evenings. Actually compared to the work she had done on her parent’s farm, this work was extremely relaxing. The thought of her parents made her whine with guilt. She had abandoned her poor ma and pa, in hopes of finding someone she no clue where was. The image of them, as she had glanced back, while heading towards Opasu was still held in her memory. Her soft spoken mother crying on the shoulder of her rough handed father, as her father looked out across his land admiring the days work. Charlie pushed the memory aside. She could remember the crew having to stop for supplies. Someone had asked her to fetch some fresh water. Then she was here. She must have been knocked out. That was the only thing that made any sense.

A screeching scream made her focus on her surroundings again. The screeching was piercing and sounded far from the scream of a human. Charlie raised her hands to her ears. There was another explosion somewhere. Dust and smoke filled the sky. The smoggy air was getting hard to see through. Things and people were moving quickly passed. The air kept getting caught in her lungs. Scrambling at the ground, she attempted to pull herself farer away from the cloudy environment.

A boiling liquid hit her in the arm. She couldn’t see the wound, but her own scream now joined the others. Blurs of blues, reds, and blacks clouded her vision as she once again fell into unconsciousness.

[Corvus MacCallum]

The ringing was steadily being defeated in Corvus head by the lack of nearby harpies air-bombing the hotel..but still his head was throbbing, once the dull throb went away in came all those peircing screams of pain...people shouting for others or just bawling for dear life...this was not the side of combat he enjoyed, with him it was people ready to give up their life in a battle clashing blades, not letting civilians get in the way. Well Sparky was keeping this places clear mostly...but not everyone had that same benefit..and..

ARGH...thats horrible..

There was such a scream nearby...he really hated hearing a woman in trouble, most of these cries were from merchants who hadn`t run to keep care of their posessions but this...it bit right through him and before he had even untied the rope around his Slammers handle the Highlander lept to the next building. As his claws and toughened soles of his feet scratched against the roof-top he hurried on, leaping another alleyway, getting a firm glimpse of the rubble and flame strewn mess below him. Another roof-top to land upon but this one didn`t have the same strength, his foot pushing right through but he continued on, banging his shin against the bits of roof that would hold as he drew his foot back up level. It was disturbing that thought...he wanted her to scream again so he`d have a better idea of where she was, this ash and smoke was making it damn nigh impossible to sniff her out and he certainly didn`t have good visibility. Betting his luck on the god of Whimsey, brother to the patron God of Casinos, Winslow he lept off for the streets. Landing on a cloth awning which quickly showed its worth by shredding underneath him and depositing the Highlander right next to a collection of bodies...none were warm though.

While no screams presented themselves..he heard flapping and claws marking bodies, seems a few wanted to inspect the kills, but he wasn`t able to see where they were, how many survivors lay out cold or merely scared stiff in this blanketing haze. Slowly he unsheathed his slammer and taking it in both hands awaited the next sound to be made...a screech, not a human one at that and with a quick shuffle forth swung high, while the blade cleaved through effortlessly he did feel that it had hit something, the scent of blood managing to peirce through the smoke and ash assailing his nostrils, that was not human blood..good he hadn't missed badly. He attempted to take a further step but had to catch himself quickly, blade being pushed back into its simple holding on his back as something new presented itself, well...not entirely new, it was a body, but this one still had warmth and a heart-beat...female too he guessed from the general shape, grumbling at the lousyness of this situation the Highlander hoisted up the smaller form and laid her over his shoulder.

Now would be a good time to return to the lodgings...hell at least I`d found her a tenant right?..something to be grateful of

Thankfully he was more than strong enough to carry her while running and made it out of that choking hazard, catching a glimpse of the un-sunned girl he was carting about..along with the horrible scald mark on her arm.

[ShyRose]

The confusion pumped through Charlie’s dreams. Creatures Charlie had only heard about in stories filled her nightmare. Just as one of these creatures was about to attack her, she woke with a great gasp.

The wind was rushing against her face. The horrible smell of burning hair filled her nostrils. When she opened her bright gold eyes what she saw was quite a surprise. She was being carried on the back of a man or maybe a dog. The hair protruding from his shirt was a lot more then that of a normal man. What really gave him away was the tail waving in the wind behind him. For some reason this amused Charlie. While her surrounding flashed past her, she tired to get an idea of where she was. Since she didn’t know the area, none of this was familiar. Bodies scattered the ground. The buildings were run downed. The white homes that were now blackening from the smoke looked as if they were once exquisite.

The ride wasn’t as rough as one would think. Bumps and uncomfortable moments here and there, but overall she enjoyed it. Then a shocking thought came to play in Charlie’s mind. What if this man wasn’t reusing her? This thought made a quiver go down her spine. She questioned if she should try to get out of his grasp, but decide it was be another hopeless fight. Just then a large creature came swooping down among them. This creature had large wings connected to a very ugly women torso. To go along with this was a women’s head which was eyeing Charlie like she was a nice size snack. The mouth of the bird kept snapping open. Charlie let out a scream. The scream rang out, though it was soft sounding for a scream. She began to be thankful that at lest her saver didn’t have long claws trying to rip at her skin. Taking its massive bird feet it griped Charlie’s shoulder until blood was pouring out. The screams that followed weren’t so soft.

The bird seemed to easily keep up with the pace of her saver. A larger pull from the bird’s part made Charlie slid a little out of his hands.

[Corvus MacCallum]

Mixed with Charlies screams came a fierce bestial growl,the rescuer seemed to be rumbling with that sound and then it was accompanied by human words stained with the growl.

"Get your fucking claws off her!"

His clawed feet scraped at the hard-worn dirt and sand attacking his soles and managed to skid to a halt for just a moment,all he needed for the Harpy to forget its speed and come in front of him,his free hand shooting out to grip at the bird-like leg,sinking his claws into it as his grip tightened. He bared his fangs as he pulled on the feathered bitch trying to bring her lower to ease the pain in Charlies shoulder, realising in this position he couldn`t get a good enough shot at the Harpy. It caused him to wince but he brought his other arm up, the sheer angle of it as he bent his arm inwards to catch at the Harpies leg while supporting Charlie on it...it wasn't a perfect hold but it gave him just what he needed as the thing screeched and flapped at them..a free hand.

His slammer was just too large for this but then...yes that would work actually, gripping the handle of the Slammer sword somewhat attached to his back he strained his muscle to make use of every effort,swinging it round in a great wide arc, fighting for all his worth to bring it up high, high enough to slice the feathered bitch but sadly the angle and the strain upon his arm was too much and he couldn`t deliver a fatal blow.

It was horrible to hear,a womans scream right at your ear but it wouldn`t be helped, at least with that impact of blade the Harpies stomach had been cut and also the weight of the blade had knocked her to the ground, those claws drenched in blood...his strike had aggravated Charlies wound a bit but he at least stopped her from being carted off. Turning quickly to face the almost felled Harpy Cor brought his sword up high with one hand,straight up into the air..a far easier position than the swing and then brought it down,splitting its hideous visage in two,along with the skull and brain matter beneath.

"....bloody hell.."

It wasn't witty but damnit he was a tad tired and injured..not to mention he hadn't made an entirely sucessful rescue attempt,but she was alive right?..not bad for an inexperianced mutt. Glancing about some sort of cover the Highlander dashed into a ruined residence, the entire front had been blown out but at least the roof was still on,dragging his Slammer behind him and not releasing it even when they were...somewhat safe. Corvus used that cover as a brief respite, his endurance was high sure but he has just jumped off a second storey roof, darted down a street at full pelt, inhaled a lot of smoke as he cut down a harpy, then hoisted up a girl, killed another harpy and this was all on top of his previous day activities...bugger.

It didn't take long for the building to start crumbling and shaking as the Harpies continued their rampage, cultists marching through the streets in groups, carrying a mixture of weapons but all shorter than what Cor was packing. Re-hefting the Slammer sword onto his shoulder he bolted into the street with Charlie still on his shoulder, one sweep of the blade sending torsos and arms sailing through the air, jinking hard to one side to avoid the blood spray and then dashing back for the hotel. As he pelted bare footed down that street his slammer was still hung out to the side, smashing into ruined kiosks and broken awnings before smashing into another group of cultists who had just tried to follow in their punctured friends.

Since he had already broken through it earlier the Highlander decided to avoid the corpse strewn door and still smoking harpy corpses for a leap through the window, sliding to a halt inside as he likely ruined a silk carpet further, but dagnabit he had just saved a life!...still the girl on his shoulder had been quiet for quite a bit, Corvus nudging her in the side with his nose.

"Ere...you alright lass?"

Edited to solve location issue

[Slavegirl]

All hell broke loose, and Natalya was forced to turn away from Storm and the wolfboy - who had run off to find his sword - once again shooting at the harpies who were rampaging her beloved hotel. The acrid scent of smoke reached her nose, this time much closer, and the former slave grimaced. The Phoenix was burning - she'd have to get the guests out of the cellar, things were a lot worse than she'd expected.

Running across the marble foyer, her boots clicking against the cold stone of the floor, Natalya rushed up into the taproom and behind the counter, pulling open the heavy wooden door to the cellar and holding up a torch to see into the inky blackness at the bottom of the stairs.

"Better come out now, or you'll be burned with the place - I'll give your money back if I'm still alive after the war is over," she hollered, the horrified faces of both guests and employees staring up at her before rushing past and out into the streets. They'd probably be killed there as easily as in the cellar, but at least they wouldn't be her responsibility anymore.

Storm was picking off Harpies with the crackle of lightning, the smell of ozone and burnt feathers covering the smell of burning wood and silk for the moment. Natalya smirked and crossed to his side, her shoulder braced against his as she reloaded her crossbow and set about shooting a group of Cultists who rushed through the door - presumably to sack the hotel. She'd be damned if they'd get her priceless treasures, she'd rather see them burn.

"So, why are you here?" she asked breathlessly, flipping one of her daggers into the back of a Sun-worshipper's neck as she shot three bolts into the belly of another.

"I can't imagine you'd think you were going to save me?" she laughed mockingly, as she cast a sapphire gaze on the man during a momentary lull in the battle.

[Storm Veritas]

The wolf boy had scared him upon entry, but the gentile nature of discussion kept Storm at his bay. Turning his back to the harpies, they would know precisely who was attacking them. It was their alleged teammate, the man with the magical touch, and they were attacking in turn.

They came through, attacked, and got to a girl, an innocent enough one that Veritas had assumed would become just another faceless tragedy. She was luckier than that. From his periphery, it seemed that the wolf boy had saved her, tearing the harpies apart with her aid. They even chatted a bit, barely taking into account the fast-tiring mage.

Can’t keep this shit up much longer. Either of you want to stop making kissy faces and help kill some more of these bastards, I’d appreciate.

Natalya smoothly rolled to him as his arms felt tingly and burnt. He could barely lift them, and his bolts were replaced with the wooden variety, hurtled from her crossbow at amazing speeds. He smiled as he viewed her, the sexy vixen fighting with that remarkable, unshakeable confidence. She was, in fact, too confident; her unyielding arrogance a feminine form of what Storm had once assumed.

“Rescue you? Hadn’t crossed my mind…” A deep breath. The words came slow, in a huffing breath. He was very tired, and took a break to take cover just as a large firebomb rocked the earth nearby. They had slowed the harpy assault, but it wasn’t over, and Storm felt this was an awful time to be chit-chatting.

At the same time, Natalya was hot.

“Nope, just ran out of penicillin, and that rash you gave me is kicking my ass.” The humor would probably get through to her, in this most absurd of situations. With his back pressed hard against the oak wall, he flashed her a white, toothy smile. There was always time to get the girl.

“Now we can’t keep killing here. We need to get out, or find a way to get them all.”

His attention turned to the younger group as well now. They appeared intelligent, and more than capable.

“You, yeti-boy, and tiny-tits… Any idea how we’re gonna stop these things? We might run out of ammo before they run out of bird-beasts, and if we don’t think of something bigger soon, this little love fest ain’t gonna end well.”

His eyes darted around the room, and back to the buxom Natalya. He spoke again before he gave the freshly insulted (and likely angry) duo a chance to answer.

“Natalya… you guys keep compressed air around here anywhere? I learned a trick in Raiaera that will absolutely blow your mind…”

[ShyRose]

Before she could understand who was talking to her, Charlie started to puke. The colorful rug under her now turned a brownish color, adding to this was crimson from the blood gushing from the wound on her shoulder. She coughed several times after this, finally just hung there shaking. She could hear voices, but they seemed far off.

This room seemed different from the rest of the town. The lobby of this place was rich with colors and pricey furniture. It reminded her of her great Aunt Katy’s home, whom she had always admired. Grimacing at the sight of her own blood, she closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breathes. Charlie had never expected leaving her home five months ago would come to this. She could tell there were more people then just the mutt man in the room. Pushing herself up she quickly glanced around, trying to avoid any eye contact. There was one man, one woman, and a mutt. Then of course there was the women birds flying around everywhere. Her voice got lost somewhere in her throat. She could hear one man complaining about something, but the words just got thrown around in her head. She wasn’t really sure what they were talking about.

Realizing that she was still hanging almost upside down, Charlie slid to the floor, at first she was kind of shaky on her feet, but quickly found her balance. “Thanks” She whispered to her saver while peeking through her brown curls. This was indeed the first time she had been saved by a complete stranger. What did he expect in return? Charlie pushed her hands into her cloak, covering the gold ring on her left hand.

[Corvus MacCallum]

Corvus was panting heavily just from the exertion of all that running, but his endurance was returning after the girl slipped off...thankful that his nostrils were full of ash and smoke so he didn't have to smell that new puddle quite so strongly. His eyes stung and it took a moment for them to be cleared by fierce blinking, patting the soot from his shirt and fur as he slowly raised up onto his feet, looking down to the girl he had just saved.

"Try to find somewhere out of the firing line, here"

Rummaging within his rather singed and now hanging low pack he pulled one of the smoother fangs free from the rope collection, placing it next to her with a simple nudge of his foot. Must have come from a rather big-mouthed Drake, that one had caused quite a lot of trouble, but fell so very easily to a few swift bites on its eyes.

"If one of those bird monsters or cloaked guys gets past us hide that and when you get the chance push it into them, chest, head just anywhere you can reach thats vital"

More of them were charging into the quite reasonably rubbled door-way of the hotel and Corvus' ear twitched as he heard foot-steps from above...it wasn't an unreasonable notion they would try to penetrate from the second floor or higher. He was going to retort to Sparkies comments but right now he was trying to work out how many...why did the pain in his head dull his hearing so much, such a bloody pain. But then, his guessing was put on hold as they came down the stairs in quite a hurry, cloaked, weilding blades and suddenly left in two, Cor having swung his Slammer for all it was worth, the blade jammed diagonally into the wall and likely right through it. The Highlander dashed for it as the bodies fell and ripped the sword free in time to join the other two fighters in defence of the door, tail swinging quickly, for all the hopelessness of the situation...it was damned exciting.

"No notions I'm more used to fighting larger beasts than larger numbers"

[AdventWings]

The Thread, I mean. :p

OK, here's a quick run-down of this story.

Story

Continuity - 2

Although Natalya is the owner of the Phoenix Rising, the way you narrated it is rather vague and (when it was revealed) a bit too blunt. Also, seeing that there was very little background detail about her acquisition of the establishment, it also made the read a bit of a snag. As for Storm's what irked me was the "motive" of his involvement. Cor and ShyRose played the "wrong place, wrong time" card although the reasons given were virtually nil.

Another factor for such a low score is because this is essentially an incomplete story. What a way to die, as I was saying.

Setting - 4

Mostly used as a backdrop and played only visual and tactile roles in the narration.

Pacing - 3

The pacing was actually killed by the abrupt ending of the story (seeing that the involved parties are no longer posting to continue) but it began to deteriorate from the overlap of events. This was particularly prominent in Slavegirl's posts as she had the tendency to recap in response to Cor and Storm.

Example:


A wolven warrior came crashing into the lobby at Natalya's feet, causing her to step back and lose her train of thought on the foreigners she'd just shoved into the basement. He had some sort of bird creature, and she realized with a shudder that the haggish form that twitched at the end of his blade was a harpy.

As he jerked his blade from the harpy's chest, Natalya sighed disgustedly - not at the sight of blood, but at the sight of blood ruining priceless rugs and staining the brick floors. She'd be scrubbing that for weeks, and have to purchase new rugs - probably in Salvar with her luck.

Of course then he just had to turn around and clean his sword on her silk curtains. The palest blue Raieaeran silk that had covered windows of exquisite amethyst Cillu glass - both of which had cost her months of pay and several favors. With an angry growl she approached him.

A slight rearrangement of words can help to solve this dilemma:


Natalya groaned audibly as the wolven warrior who crashed into her hotel only moments before started ruining her expensive Raiaeran Silk Curtains on the blood-smeared sword. It was bad enough that he decided to pour the unlucky harpy's gory carcass into her priceless rugs and brick floor - which with her luck, would have to be bought in Salvar - but the damage he was doing here was the equivalent of many months of pay and several costly favors.

I'll let you play around with Styles to see how you deal with this.

Writing Style

Mechanics - 4

Cor's notorious run-on sentences really did kill his posts. There are other ways to emulate chaos, which you demonstrated in Post #13. Remember that when writing, you should try to convey the message and atmosphere so that others can understand. Remember that writing style need not be sacrificed to convey an atmosphere of chaos.

But you might have improved on that by now. Therefore, I am just noting it here for you to see. :p

Technique - 4

Anachronism... This is something that irked me time and time again from Storm Veritas. Sure, you are just making references so as to visualize the scenes better... but surely should you ruin the atmosphere of fantasy altogether?

Anachronism not only alienates the writing from the era of the events but also trips up the atmosphere of the situation as well.

Here are a few Anachronisms I have detected reading through this story:

Neon Strobe; Aristotle, Balloon, Yo-Yo, Penicillin

Aristotle, sure, he could be a great philosopher in Althanas as well. A short one-phrase reference to this world's "Aristotle" would be sufficient so as to not confuse readers with Earth Aristotle.

Clarity - 3

Blame it partly on chaotic narration of events (partly in Cor and ShyRose) and partly in ambiguous narration from Storm and Slavegirl's parts.


Character

Dialogue - 6

This is the part I love the most about this story. Lively and characteristic dialogues in Natalya's part as well as the exchange between Cor and Charlie. Storm's stood out to me the most, especially in his quip about "running out of penicillin" which might not even have been founded in Althanas yet.

...OK, that was me being nit-picky. It was a fun read, nonetheless.

Action - 5

While Natalya and Storm were defending the hotel, Cor played on the sideline and even managed to rescue the "damsel in distress" played by Charlie. Good display, albiet a bit lackluster for the most parts.

Persona - 6

Nothing particularly outstanding, nothing particularly notorious. Everyone played their part and played them fairly well.

Miscellaneous

Wild Card - 3

I hate it when threads go dead, don't you? This could turn out to be a very interesting read. The incompleted version, however, was much lacking in luster.

FINAL SCORE – 40!

((Rewards + Spoils))

Slavegirl receives 500 EXP and 120 GP. Her Phoenix Rising hotel needs a very heavy redecoration, or more like a reconstruction due to the Cult of Mitra's assault. She would also need to buy more bolts for her crossbow, too.

Storm Veritas receives 1300 EXP and 120 GP. Luckily, Atilla has fled to safety although it might be a while before he found out where the smart steed disappeared to.

Corvus MacCallum receives 900 EXP and 150 GP. His Slammer Sword might need to be taken care of afterwards so as to prevent rust from eating all the way through.

ShyRose receives 275 EXP and 75 GP. She later found out that her clothes now pretty much stink. From what, that's another story.

Thanks for playing! See you next time!

[Karuka]

EXP/GP added!