The Dirty Half-Dozen Party #1

[HerrJordans]

Evan Ignitus

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A party of elves weave their way through dense jungle. Occasionally the elf at the head of the column glances back to ensure none have been taken by predators. Eventually they reach a tree, ancient and massive, and begin to climb. After a minute of climbing, they step out on to a thick branch and approach a sickly looking plant. Working quickly, they assemble a rope harness for the large pod of the plant. Two of the elves leap off the branch and descend, trailing two rope guide lines. The lead elf draws his sword and slices the stem of the pod, sending it sliding down the guide lines and into the arms of the elves at the bottom. They slice open the pod as the rest of the elves hit the ground below the guide lines, and drag out a slick humanoid form. "By the forest, what did he do?" asks one of the elves. "Whatever it was, he angered the gods themselves. The jailor is coming for him personally" answers the leader grimly. As if on cue, the sky brightens and the sound of heavy wingbeats fills the humid air. A mighty angel descends from the jungle canopy, a flaming sword in one hand and sturdy brass cage in the other. The leader of the elves throws metal shackles on the wrists of the gaunt deva and drags him into the cage, chaining him to the floor. Averting his eyes from the angel, he backs out of the cage and prostrates himself, like the rest of his party. With a flare of bright light and a thunderclap the angel vanished. Without another word the elves set off through the jungle, an enormous grin splitting the face of each. The payment they would collect for the delivery of that prisoner would feed their clan for a generation.

Drogo Toadfoot

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A peal of thunder splits the air as two robed figures flanked by four hulking goliaths appear at the outskirts of a massive golden dais. One of them, a pretty girl in initiates robes, is speaking animatedly to the taller, hunched figure of her mentor. "He must have done something significant to so anger the society, master. Never have I seen us go to such lengths to suppress a detainee." "He killed the king of one of our puppet regimes, messed with power structures he didn't understand and then scoffed in our faces when we told him he was toying with powerful people. The worst part is, he is dangerous enough to necessitate such drastic containment. We have precious few agents who could stop him if he ever escaped confinement." responds the old man as they approach the centre of the dais. He gives a signal and one by one the robed men standing in a circle around the centre stop chanting. The head poking out of the centre of the dais suddenly starts screaming. "-STARDS LET ME GO! I SWEAR I'LL-" he looks around in confusion. "I am Master Pontius of the Society. I'm sure you have a lot of questions about what you're doing here but-" The old man is cut off as the the girl slams a blackjack into the head's temple and he rounds on her furiously. "You bitch! Couldn't even hit me hard enough to knock me out. No wonder you're still a bloody apprentice to this dinosaur! How old are you anyw-" he is cut off as one of the goliaths lands a mighty punch to the same side of his head, finally knocking him unconscious. The goliaths each grab a handle set into the dais and lift an ornate cage containing a now-unconscious halfling out of the ground. Thunder splits the air again and the party vanishes as abruptly as they appeared.

Belkin Silverfoot

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"Has he screamed yet?" "No, he just stares at you. Like he's got a very special place in his heart reserved for hating you." Comes the uneasy response. "Well, try a bigger brand." "We've used the biggest one, it just makes him look angriest." Suddenly the man in chains interjects. "I inflicted greater pain on insects when I was a small boy. You and your master are pathetic, and you are very lucky this is sealed off from the rest of the abyssal plane or Varak would show you how to properly elicit screams from a prisoner." There is a moment of uncomfortable silence. "Y-you speak Abyssal?" "If I were so possessed I could speak your true name right now and destroy you permanently, but they might replace you with someone competent." The prisoner turns to smile coldly at his captor. "Do you fear many humans, Gaz'rok?" a large, twisted figure steps out of the shadows. "Master! I do not fear any humans, least of all the one in chains before me. Have you been here long?" "Long enough to see your cowardice. The prisoner is being transferred again. They feel he is not... secure here. That is not the impression I would like to leave with our esteemed patrons. You will accompany him during transport, and you will be performing the rites of restoration personally." "No master, I have been your loyal servant for centuries. You cannot do this, I will be at his mercy!" "Perhaps you should have found a bigger brand." are the large demon's final words before he vanishes in a plume of fire. The man in chains turns once again and smiles at the lesser demon who has been his torturer for these past years. "Varak will be so pleased to meet you."

Teryn

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"I won't repeat myself again, elf. Step into the Gods-damned cage or we'll flood your cell with acid." "Did I tell you what I flooded your mother with, you shaven ape?" "Alright to the hells with this. Dunlop, lever." At this a young-looking guard pulls on a series of levers. The sturdy steel cage begins rising out of the detention pit while simultaneously a series of grates open and a bubbling liquid starts to fill the pit. An elf stands in the middle of the pit, looking nonplussed as the floor of the cell is covered and the acid begins to rise. "Not too late to save your feet, elf." Quips the apparent leader of the guards. "Not too late to save yourselves, pig-thing, and start treating me with the respect I deserve." The guards guffaw at this. "Look at him, about to be nothing but bleached bones in a hole and still complaining about us not 'respecting' him. You filthy criminals are all the same, think you're special or something." By now the acid has reached the elf's waist, but he barely shows discomfort on his face. It is the elf's turn to laugh. "Do you know what irony is human? Perhaps you need a bath in this acid as well, even from here my acid-scoured nose can smell the other man your wife is laying with. Filthy criminal indeed." By now the cage is nearly out of the pit, and the acid has reached the chest of the elf. Suddenly the elf scrambles up out of the pit, climbing the bars of the cage like a ladder. He reaches through the bars and grabs young Dunlop by the throat, who starts screaming as the elf's acid-soaked skin makes contact with his own. The elf lifts him from the ground and locks eyes with the elder guard. "I bet you regret choosing acid now, human. You are lucky they are taking me away from this place, in a sense. It will be years before I hear your cries for mercy, before I see the fear in your eyes as I drown you in acid. Enjoy the time you have left with your tramp wife. Now close this damn cage, I'm on a tight schedule." The elf releases the now lifeless form of Dunlop grips the roof of the cage as the shocked guardsmen close and latch the bottom wall of the cage. They scatter in fear when a dragon suddenly mounts the keep wall and grabs the cage in its front claws. It pulls the cage from its mooring and takes off heading Northward. It has one more charge to collect.

Calrian Flint

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Anchored to the seafloor is an ornate glass and metal bubble, its surface glowing with shifting runes and heiroglyphics. To those familiar with ancient languages of power they might be recognizable as dire warnings, and to one of sufficient age and wisdom they might even undertands the strict instructions dancing across the surface of the glass. A dragon is descending through the depths, its massive wingbeats displacing water instead of air, on a direct course to the globe. Suddenly an Aboleth slams into the dragon's side, and they engage one another in undersea combat. Their mighty forms thrash and churn the water, slaughtering lesser life forms unfortunate enough to get caught in the conflict. Finally the dragon's jaws snap shut just behind the head of the undersea aberration, and begins to writhe and die. It casts off the body of its foe and continues toward the glowing sphere on the seafloor. It sees a figure nearly obscured by the runic inscriptions inside the sphere. 'Good' it thinks to itself, 'these beasts and primitives knew enough to fear this globe.' Suddenly a horde of undersea tribals appear to jeer and threaten the dragon. The being contained in the globe has grown to become a messianic figure in their primitive religion and they are loath to have their god-king taken from them. The dragon turns briefly and blasts them with a gout of ice from its jaws, killing dozens instantly. 'Stupid, evil things. Let them find a god that would do more than incinerate them the second they left the water.' The dragon begins ascending quickly, glowing globe between its jaws. That Aboleth had cost it precious time. It throws itself out of the water and pauses only briefly to shake the water from its wings and grab a caged elf before setting off towards the falling sun on the horizon.

A giant of a man inspects the five shackled beings before him.

I was told it was to be six.

A small man standing next to him feigns supplication.

Yes lord, I am aware. The sixth is currently in transit, I have been assured.

Let's hope so, my wrath will be... most unpleasant if we are kept waiting.

The giant man lowers himself on one knee to bring himself closer to eye level for the shackled ones.

I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here, and not rotting in a far-flung prison like you deserve. I won't mince words, our world is in crisis. It's greatest heroes, some of them the ones that put you away, lie broken and dying on battlefields across this world. We are running out of options, and if we do not think of something soon we will all be destroyed. How foolish you must think, why would you help the ones who keep you in chains? Because if you cannot stop them, the forces of destruction will annihilate all creation. Every living thing will perish, the land itself will burn away into nothing, the seas will hiss and boil until they too have vanished. This is not about the battle between good and evil, this is about the battle between existence and utter nothingness. That is why we are so desperate to have turned to you. We need you, the most powerful beings ever to burden the hearts of good men, to set aside your differences with each other and indeed, all of creation, to save everything. You will have time for questions, and for answers, but first, we await the arrival of one last exemplar of evil.

[SalmonOfDoubt]

Belkin raised his eyebrows and grinned at the man who stood before him. He had already inspected his companions thoroughly. They were not much to look at. He assumed that he would be able to take them down should things turn... ugly. They most decidedly would, of course. This man truly believed that they would simply cooperate? Bah! Perhaps they would save the planet. Perhaps not. But if he thought for even a moment that Belkin would choose saving existence over saving himself and watching the world burn, we was truly stupid. He straightened up, continuing to smile maliciously at the man.

You must truly be desperate, thinking that we would help you simply because of your worthless drivel. And no, not all of us will simply comply because you claim that everything would end. For what is there for us if we succeed? Back to the hell you just dragged us out of? I'd rather sit and watch the universe dissipate around me.

Belkin glanced around at the others who stood by him. He flexed his hands, itching to press the limits of his power in this new location, but he stopped himself. Such tests were best saved for when the oaf of a man was not around.

Assuming, of course, that we have any reason to believe that you are telling the truth in the first place.

[Sol]

Calrian Flint watches Belkin with interest before turning back to the giant before them. He speaks, but it isn't clear whether he's speaking to anyone, or if it's just the ramblings of a man used to no company but his own voice.

Nice to hear I'm "one of the most powerful beings" left on the rock. Nicer to be above water, flex my legs. Not all bad down there; no trees. No fire either. A man misses fire.

He smiles at Belkin, baring his fangs.

The truth? Hah. I remember when I thought there was truth. Everything's shades these days. Best a man can do is make sure it's shades of red.

[KnightSteve]

The halfling wakes up with an unusual headache. He touches his left hand to his face and remembers now being punched unconscious by one of those goliaths. It is not often that one of his people survive a blow like that, but Drogo isn't an ordinary halfling. He catches all what the guard, and the other two say, but he unsure why good would want Drogo's help.. He destroyed a whole kingdom by killing its king, and caused chaos in many of villages by killing civilians and taking their possessions for himself to sell.

"Oi there fellow prisoners, I am the unusually quiet halfling, Drogo Toadfoot. If my hearing is correct and it's not just this pounding headache making me hear things, we are supposed to be saving this pitiful world? I do not think of myself capable of helping others, that time has long past. I like seeing the burning of a city, or the broken rubble of a now empty caravan I have robbed. If the world is truly in danger, I would hope that saving it would not lead me to finishing my life in a prison. This sort of thing demands a great reward, especially since the do-gooders weren't good enough to save it themselves."

[LordConcrete]

The tall, skeleton of a Deva stood up.... Or at least he tried to. Evan looked down to his right foot, noticing the chain tied to a metal ring in front of him. His hands were shackled behind his back.
"The world in danger, yet again. Perhaps, this time, there'll be dinosaurs." Evan announces sarcastically. "Who's the big bad this time?"

Evan glanced around the room, sunken eyes darting, absorbing each of their builds, muscle mass, height, and especially, their eyes.
Perhaps, he'd make himself another nation, and he would be god, yet again, but no, no, what had the big man said?
"Oye, big boy, what's your name" Evan said. "And you, Shifter..."
"Why not, why don't all of you tell me your names."
"If you like fire so much, why don't you just let the world burn... Oh wait, but then ashes don't burn well do they? I suppose, to burn, there must be something or someone creating."
Evan thought back to his capture. He had it all planned. The elves weren't a problem by themselves, even the angel was going to be ambushed, but his second-hand man. He had betrayed him, and Evan would find him...
Oh yes, Evan would indeed find him, then torture him, perhaps brutally, then he would be killed. Evan rubbed his fingers together behind his back. The Rose Killer frowned, eyes glistening and laughed, a tad maniacally.

[SalmonOfDoubt]

Belkin glared at the deva with a look of disgust. What a pitifully weak form. And what erratic methods of speech. As expected from a deva. Horrendous creatures. They always thought themselves better just by having some divine blood in them. Absolutely pitiful. Curious though, how a member of that race wound up here. If his memory served, deva could face serious consequences for turning to dark deeds. Belkin would not envy the man, if one of that species could even be called a man, in his next life.

He considered not responding. Just letting the question of his name hang in the air. To show his scorn. But now might be the perfect time to... stir things up a little. He was curious to see what the troll standing before him would do if the lot of them refused to play nice. Plus, it was always nice to bring one of those astral twits down a notch or two.

My name is Belkin Silverfoot. And you are obviously unacquainted with the ways of a pyromancer. I could draw flames from the most vile depths of the Abyss that would burn you eternally, eating slowly away at your soul while leaving your body unharmed. They would never burn out, never go away, with no need of a fuel supply. You would wish you were ash.

He smirked, confident in his initial judgement of his companion's mental functioning. Perhaps they would be easier to manipulate than he thought. The shifter and the halfling further strengthened his reasoning. The tiny man got straight to the point, but he was obviously unintelligent. Such simple speech, it made Belkin cringe inside. And the hairy brutes called shifters were always idiots. But somehow, Belkin took an immediate liking to the weretouched. He liked flames as well? Perhaps he wasn't all bad. Perhaps Belkin would allow him to live. Perhaps.

[Sol]

Calrian scowls at the Deva. Had he really had the nerve to demand names without revealing his own? No matter. He would learn his place.

Which Diety died and left you in charge? He asks, shifting his gaze to wink conspiratorially at the Human, who seemed to be far less annoying. Belkin, he said? Pyromancer. Is this all part of Kossuth's plan? It must be.

From where I'm chained I heard the man treating us as equals. He pauses and sniffs the air, before making a sour face as if he had sensed the foulest of odors.

You smell like trees. I'll let that slide, for now. Curious where this is heading, and mean to listen. Can't let another become The One Who Burns The World. From below, I couldn't even have watched. Willing to help, maybe. If the price suits. Save everything? No. Not everything. Still talking. Stop.

After minutes of near-silence, muttering under his breath seeming lost in thought, Flint again turns to the others to speak.

Names. You, Angel, you may call me Firestarter. Trust you with my name when I hear yours.

You, Belkin and Drogo of the feet, may call me Cal. The Halfling amused him, and a Pyromancer would have its uses. Arcane Fire always felt like cheating, but the world has a lot of trees.

[Ascy]

Teryn

The elf's usually sun-tanned skin still showed a slight note of red and a faint rest of the caustic smell of acid still lingered in his nose.
Cold iron manacles bound his hands and as far as he could see, all the other prisoners were restrained, too.
What a charming bunch of sociopaths and mass murderers.
He scowled. How long has he been locked up, that the world has gone down the road to destruction?

"Little wonder the fearful could not solve their own problems. As it always is, only the strong and ruthless can defeat the strong.
I am Teryn, the Iron Hand of Bane from the former forest kingdom.
And as much as I dislike to say, the deva has a point. Without a world, we would not have as much fun now, would we?"

He eyes his captor with a cold glare, straightening his back as far as his restraints allow him.
"So you want to point and we should run like trained dogs? Not likely."

[KnightSteve]

Drogo liked the shifter's comments to the deva. It wasn't often he had heard someone speak that way to a deva. Usually, even in his circles, devas were given a bit of respect. But the time for respect is over, and if he expects to get respect he must earn it from everyone else involved just as Drogo would like to do. Drogo will put his blades to good use when the time is needed, and if he can get away, he just may help these shackled criminals.

Well now, Belkin, Teryn and Cal. Interesting names, but I have no room to talk myself. We just need to wait now for the final member of this imprisonment to get the answers to our questions. If it suits my liking, I will be getting out of this hellhole. Until then, I think I will rest and save my energy.