Children of Zarus IC

[Tacitus]

Children of Zarus
Mission 0.1: The Wake-Up Call.

”The Children of Zarus? The lot of them are either insane or blind.”
~Tormod Rostfrei, Aasimar Sage.

If any of them expected to be treated any better on the morning of their first real mission they were in for a devastating disappointment. A piercing alarm filled their combined quarters long before sunlight had even graced the highest towers of the capital, Zenith. The one benefit they were given this morning was their stern commander, a man in gleaming armor with a good soul named Marcus Runethane, and the fact that his yelling was only to overpower alarm. Or at least that is the case for now.

The light streaming into the simple barracks from behind accentuates his bald head, a familiar sight to each of the elite. His first words are the same as he has barked every morning, “Get up, maggots! Chow in fifteen!” When he leaves the room falls silent as though he had taken the alarm with him. The sound of his metal armor echoes through the halls in the same measured pace as every morning and fades just the same as well. When those assembled are ready they file into the mess reserved for commanding officers and, of course, the Elite Children of Zarus.

In the mess those that do not require food are allowed to do as they please for the half hour they have been allotted for their morning meal. On cue Marcus strides in and over to their table mere moments before the one half hour mark and surprisingly he does not raise his voice to command them out. Today there are no drills. There will be no mock combat situations. There is nothing more to be learned within the hallowed walls of Zenith. After their meal they are led back to their barracks to find a monolith of chiseled marble and golden armor.

To their surprise the man moves and even speaks, his skin an opalescent sheen and his voice that of the gods, “This hallowed morning you have been given the honor of being led in prayer by your Lord. Come, my Children, let us praise Zarus.” From his back the sound of a massive blade leaving its sheath fills the room. The blade gleams golden in the light of the coming dawn. With a surge of power the tip of the blade meets stone and the Lord kneels. For the next hour an ever increasing amount of light streams in from outside as the Chosen of Zarus gives a sermon on the virtues of faith. During this time those that prepare spells are allowed to consult their assets and divine connections. At some points the Lord even refers to maps and spell books in moments before he executes a particularly devastating martial strike. This man, above all, seems to be the pinnacle of human evolution and versatility.

At the conclusion the First Among Men rises to give those gathered a warm smile, “May The First of Men bless your deeds this day and may Astra’s power write them among the stars for generations to come.” He glances to the rear of those gathered and nods ever so slightly before leaving for other pressing matters. At the read is their bald-headed friend and once the Lord is out of earshot he gets down to business, “All right maggots, now that the hard part of the day is over you can get to work on the easy things. You are being sent out this morning. Meet me in the briefing room in fifteen. Maps of the region and the target area are available as well as intelligence on what resistance you are to expect. Don’t keep me waiting.”

[Jansviper]

As always, Carcer is awake and up the moment the alarm goes off. Not a second before, nor a second after. Also in accordance with tradition, Marcus receives the same raised eyebrow and half smile he does every morning. The same eyebrow and smile that everyone has received since the day they met the older man. The expression that says "Yes, you're here. Yes, I know. What of it?"

As he was fond of saying, Carcer was not in any way a people person. He was certainly a polite and well spoken individual, but Carcer just did not like people. At all. A person, or persons, the strange man could appreciate. A person could be interesting, witty, intelligent, all things Carcer valued. People could be interesting, yes, but interesting in the same way one might view a particularily stupid animal. Sometimes they did interesting things, or could be made to do interesting things, but really they were hardly worth the time and effort it took to kill them.

As for persons, Carcer believed he could count the number he did like on both hands and would likely have fingers left over for derogatory gestures. More than half (he suspected, it might be as low as half) of them resided in this room with him and had for quite some time. At first, they had just been people, and he hated people. At first, he had been aware of every possible way to kill them as easily as possible with varying degrees of noise and/or mess. At first, he had well and truly considered it several times.

But he didn't hate them any longer, and it was with a bemused grin that he waited by the door (again, as always, even when they had just been people) for them to wake and join him for breakfast. Each was interesting in his or her own right, and sometimes he wondered if they knew how he thought of them. After a moment's contemplation he dismissed this (as always) and rightly assumed that they would have killed him long ago for being people if they could. Besides, he trusted them now, and if any had gained the ability to read thoughts recently (an idea that brought the first suspicion back from where he had dropped it, as always) he trusted them to keep such little facts to themselves.

Afterall, he knew that he wouldn't plant a knife in the back he was supposed to be watching (now). It would be quite rude of them not to extend the same courtesy.

-=-=-=-=-

Carcer had not felt the need to eat for a very long time (his pinky ghosts over the ring on his fourth finger that has been there longer than he can remember in a reminder that has long since become habit) but did so anyway. Socialization was vital for the proper flow of information, and he prided himself on knowing just about everything that went on in the area around him. Complete control of flow was impossible, he knew and accepted this, because such detailed mental reading as would be necessary was also impossible (This thought was the one that, once again, shelved the idea of those he had grow to trust being able to read his thoughts).

Of course, he could be mistaken. There was so much about magic that he did not know. There was so much that had been forgotten, he really couldn't say for sure that such a feat was impossible. (And this was the one that brought it back)

As always, Carcer spent breakfast idly munching on bits of this and that from the plates of others as his thoughts chased each other in endless cycles that steadily grew more and more convoluted. As he would fall deeper into contemplation, his contributions to the conversation around him would become increasingly cryptic and arcane. He would switch in and out of languages at a will, repeating himself in more common dialects when prompted.

But honestly, this was such a common sight by now that no one really bothered. It was written plain as day across his face that his thoughts were working themselves into their mind-warping maze of possibilities and counter-arguments. This could continue for the rest of the day, and likely would unless something snapped him out of it.

To say that Carcer wasn't a paragon of sanity as well would be an understatement, it was a well known fact (and being a fact, he was aware of it too. not that he particularly minded)

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Theology was a matter of some confusion to Carcer. Druids at least made some measure of sense to his highly evolved brain, but gods and their clerics were something of a sticky point for him (this is not to say they were a mystery, he understood them fine). It did not seem... necessary to him. The fact that humans were superior to the beasts and monsters of the world was a fact (afterall, he was human, how could they not be?). Why it needed to be sent down from on high was what caused him cognitive interference.

It was then that Carcer remembered why this was (though he spared a moment to wonder if he had come to this conclusion before, and under review decided that yes, he had). People were stupid, and needed the hand they wiped their asses with to be held and guided for them. This was not to say the gods were glorified ass-wipers (though this brief moment of heresy amused him enough to chuckle out loud, an act which had startled fellow worshipers several times in the beginning. though like everything else it had quickly faded into the background noise of daily repetition), but they were still extremely adept at guiding the masses of people about their daily lives.

He supposed that it was a shame so few gods understood the facts of life, but Zarus was the Father of Humanity. From Him, Carcer had been created. It stood to reason that he was made in His image, and if a man such as he were created in His image then god must be omnipotent indeed.

Unconsciously, Carcer prepared his spells for the day. The lines traced arcane fire across a mind that buzzed and whirled with thoughts, following familiar paths and conduits of power. Today his long, bony fingers made lavish notes and cramped diagrams in the margins of tattered and worn pages already full of lavish notes and cramped diagrams. The tome was small in size but thick in girth and looked older than he was, that or worn from such use that one might think it never left his hands. Perhaps, it was a combination of the two.

Everything seemed routine around Carcer. Even when things changed, he seemed to remain the same. Even if he hadn't done something a hundred's hundred times before, he still acted like he had. It was down right unsettling for those that knew he professed to some of the deepest and most violent arts of madness and destruction.

That odd stillness of self extended to his movements as he glides from the worship chamber, spellbook still in hand. It had been commented on before that he moved like a man on puppet strings. Spine held up at the neck, shoulders drooping bonelessly until the spindly arms shot back up at sharp angles to attend to the whatever task those artists fingers called for. An almost ethereal face of hard planes and classical beauty framed the most striking pale blue eyes that shimmered and glowed. He was graceful and lithe, in a slightly disturbing way. Humanity had left its stamp on Carcer, left it hard, and it showed quite clearly.

Despite arriving first at the briefing room, he would wait for those he trusted. He had shed sweat and blood with them, and somehow that had come to mean something. So he would wait at the door for the others to arrive, and enter with one of them.

Besides, he wanted to finish this thought anyway. The applications and possibilities seemed limitless...

[Lochar]

Tarrin

Tarrin luxuriated in the feel of the sheets, as he listened to the alarm blare, and then to the commander bleat. Not that he'd ever say such.

And once again thought about borrowing someone's silence spell one morning, but thinking that the trouble wouldn't be worth the quiet. Touching the ring on his finger as he slips out of the bed, he nods to Carcer as he quickly pulls the sheets into place on the bed. There was always someone awake at night. No sense in letting their instructors have completely free reign on surprise actions.

The man pulls back his dirty blond hair, tying it off and letting the short tail barely touch the nape of his neck, as is his usual way. Blue eyes touch the others, before nodding silently to them.


During the meal, Tarrin takes a slight amount of food, quietly keeping to himself and his bunkmates. He nods to those he knows, but does not speak unless spoken to. Which actually doesn't happen, as most people have learned that Tarrin is grumpy and really not to be spoken to until after the prayers and the time to regain spells.


During the prayer, Tarrin's eye moves over the different spells he has in his book, going over different combinations and castings. The spells, written so that they appeared to be as maps, flow into his mind, taking up their places in the geography of the aether. Tarrin refrains from summoning his mental armor at the moment, knowing they are safe here.


Tarrin moves to enter the briefing room, nodding to Carcer as they both enter. Tarrin looks around, taking in the room, his mind mentally cataloging it for later use, memorizing the look of the room. Mapping it out in his mind.

[JaviSua]

Edric Haart

Edric swings his legs out of his bed as he hears the alarm, enjoying the sensation of the cool air on his skin as he struggles to wake. He stands and stretches, nodding to Carcer and Tarrin (the only other two to wake). He grumbles something under his breath as Marcus calls them to breakfast, but puts on a smile and heads to the mess. Edric sits alongside his comrades, each one of their faces as familiar as his own mother's. "No more drills, eh? Won't hear me complaining," he laughs as they eat.

As the group of elites enter the barracks and prepare for prayer, Edric's smiling face becomes subdued. He takes the prayer to Zarus in silence, thinking back on the course of his life during his service to the Almighty Zarus. This was the One he had pledged his life to, the One who he had risked his life for time and time again. Edric took the prayer very seriously indeed, out of both faith and out of hope that his hardships had not been for nothing.

Moving to the briefing room, Edric feels more in his element. The ever-present smile returns to his handsome face, and he claps Tarrin on the back in a friendly gesture (grumpiness be damned). "What have you got for us, Marcus?"

[Unkabear]

Gordon Errel

Gordon was well awake when the wake up call came. He had been laying there with his eyes open for quite a while. He got what sleep he needed early in the night, and was recently woken by the movements of the others. But that was alright, better to be aware than dead.

Breakfast was nothing to remember, a quick meal that was just enough sustenance to keep for the beginning of the day. His life had been spent in the military for a great deal of time, and one learned to deal with food that did not taste like food. Or have pleasing textures. Or well, you had any desire to eat. But that was military life.

To be chosen to be one of the Elite, was a privilege that Gordon scarce could believe that he was chosen for. He had just returned with a ruby the size of his fist that he was told had some magical property that would be needed for the something. He really didn’t pay too much attention to what it did unless it was easily activated, or spell certain doom. It wasn’t his to worry, just to do what he was told. But upon his return he was given different assignments, ones that he hoped would change his life and offer him a bit more challenge.

As the blessing was placed upon him Gordon more than a little shiver ran up his spine. He always felt good after the blessing, as if nothing in the world could touch him. And that was well what it might have been.

Gordon wasted no time gathering his things and making his way to the briefing room. He always went to a briefing ready to move out. Often he would ghost away right after to begin his missions in earnest.

[Siric]

Edward Diem

Edward was awake and ready to go ten minutes before the Alarm ever went off. During his morning meditation, he managed to ignore the alarm, but hear Marcus with perfect clarity and at a reasonable volume. Edward made his way to the mess hall as everyone else seemed to struggle to get out of bed, save for Carcer and Gordon. Edward nodded at Gordon when he passed by, showing his respect to anyone who showed the discipline they possessed. As for Carcer, he would silently congratulate anyone else for their discipline, but he knew Carcer was just... odd.

The morning meal held no particular value to Edward. He took a bite, all he would really need, and was ready to go after that. Eating just used up necessary time, and even further so when one disposed of the waste that followed. And while Edward had not yet managed to go without a meal for days, even weeks at a time as those before him, he postpones all of his meals after the day and his duties are over.

While Edward bathed in the light of Zarus, he spent just a few moments admiring the man before him. Truly disciplined in body and mind. Truly a weapon of Zarus. But Edward quickly went back to selecting his spells. His mind flowed through nature, looking at the best way to alter it to Zarus' advantage. When his spells were picked, he made his way to the briefing room and stood, perfectly straight and still.

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As I am the closest thing to a proper healer, I added more healing spells in the place of call lightning when praying for spells.

[Paramour Pink]

Sophia Halein

++++++++++

It struck Sophia as an immense shame. Being led by their Lord in prayer was an act of beautiful honour and unbridled benevolence. He was such an immaculate Man. But it was all mired in her mind, as always, by being chained to the inherent intrusiveness of mass prayer. Even with head bowed obediently, eyes shut, and ears open only to the honey-sweet thrum of virtuous verses, it occurred to her that this was not right.

Prayer was a private conversation in all forms. A quiet word between child and sire. Sophia thought it should have been done at a time chosen by the truly faithful, not a type of regimented behaviour, done at the behest of others. To pray this way felt like an exhibitionist's existence at best, or intrusive at worst. Her svelte frame stiffened at that. She felt suddenly uncomfortable of the idea that her presence among the mass might mean that she herself was interrupting the spiritual speaking that another might be doing.

With a sigh, Sophia focused again on the words being spoken, trying to take what wisdom she could from it. Although she was among the best people of the finest race, she was not at her highest potential. That day could not be recognised before she was gifted with the grace of a single prayer in the presence of her Lord, alone. Until that day came, much needed to be accomplished to earn that right.

++++++++++

When leaving the place of prayer Sophia made her way to the meeting point. She walked with an eager and obviously elated step in addition to the ingrained grace of a blessed woman's walk. It scarcely mattered what quest could come her way. It would be consented to and crushed before even a week of daylight had caressed mother Astra.

++++++++++

OOC:

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I figure I can just edit this if I want to add on anything extra. For now I don't like the idea of holding up everyone some more.

[Tacitus]

"The Children of Zarus? Yeah, I heard of 'em. People says they're a cult or something."
~Sebastian Ux, Half Dragon Paladin.

The briefing room is nothing the group has not seen before but this morning is the first time they have been gathered for such an important task. The ceremony of the day is slightly disrupted by the fact that several of the maps that have been requested for the operation are currently unavailable, for whatever reason. With what few materials he has Marcus waits for all to arrive.

When Edric addresses him informally it seems to compound his newfound foul mood, "Elite or not, I still outrank you, Solider." He nods to two medium sized maps and a stack of papers on the table before him, "Before you are two maps, one as an overview of this city and the other is an approximation of the target area from divinations of the area. You are to travel to this location and hold it in case of siege. Furthermore if you can establish a means by which to quickly transport supplies between the two locations it would be extremely beneficial. As the crow flies it is approximated that the target is over a day and a half away. We have not yet been able to locate a regional map but we are sure the river that passes through Zenith trails east before heading south and curving to the west to pass near the target. The area is heavily forested and we know the stronghold is occupied by infidels but beyond that we have little information. Any questions?"

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http://i35.tinypic.com/2iu59w8.jpg

[Jansviper]

As always, Carcer's mind had worked itself into a knot over a pivotal issue. By this time of day there is only one thought that truly plagues him, and it is that thought which will usually carry him the rest of the day.

Logic told Carcer that the plural of person was people, and quite frankly he hated people. Marcus himself might be surprised to know that Carcer contemplated his death no less than five times a day on principal alone (though never more than twelve, he was a practical man unhindered by bouts of rampant paranoia). However, here before him he had five persons whom he did like, quite a bit actually. And frankly saying, (thinking, though he didn't bother with the semantics of mental introspection) ((much)) (((when he had other things to do))) ((((that weren't boring)))) using the word persons in a matter that was clearly incorrect speech was irritating to the highest degree.

Carcer reached the same conclusion as always at this point, he supposed that they were people, a group of them at that. Which was worrying, because he liked them and trusted them not to act like people (for the most part, because... no, not that one, because even if they can't read thoughts that one would get him hurt). The idea that they were in fact people and capable of acting like people, opposed to the fact that each was a person he trusted and liked quite a bit, would chase each other round and round and round. They grew more complex and convoluted with every pass round the old headcase, and this turmoil only made him more incomprehensible.

By the end of the day, Carcer would always be nigh impossible to speak with. He acted normally (for him) and carried out his duties without fault, but his socialization tended to range from the bizarre and things-best-left-unsaid to the horribly mentally scarring.

Today however, something was different. The steady flow on monotony was broken and the as always had shifted onto new ground. Two things happened as a result.

The first would go unnoticed for quite some time, and by then it would be impossible to pinpoint exactly when and why it had happened. At that moment, Carcer's normal train of thoughts jumped track and he arrived at a startling conclusion. Yes, they were people, but they were his people. Something dark and violent in his soul perked up and began to chuckle. The overwhelming sense of mine that flowed through him was shocking, eye-opening, and it felt oh so very right as it settled into the black.

Because anyone that took what was Carcer's would suffer in mind-bending terror before dying a slow and lonely death.

The second was obvious, and far more noticeable. His normally bemused expression fell off and that hooded stare became focused and razor sharp. He sat up and drew into himself all the gangliness and sharp angles, leaving only the refined grace and raw humanity that was at his core. The shimmer of his eyes intensified and began to glow with pearly luminescence.

He spoke only one word in that bass voice, smooth as molasses and deep as an old well, but the effect was immediate. Carcer was gone, and the Elite's Dark Mage sat in his place.

"Stronghold?"

[Siric]

Edward shot a slightly wary look towards Carcer before redirecting his attention to the maps. "Are we to leave quickly?"

[Lochar]

Tarrin

Tarrin looks over the rough map, frowning at it. "Is this the best map we have?"

Tarrin tries to recall anything about the local area he might have read, studied or heard.

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Taking 10 on K: Geography, for a total of 26.

[Paramour Pink]

Sophia Halein

Sophia had been scanning the map quietly before she peered up towards the sage of the woods. Her blue eyes regarded him with a respectful curiosity. They were in a war room, without so much as one plan of action suggested, and yet he whom was surely the wisest seemed to be implying to make haste already. But that idea did not introduce itself as prudent to her. It was for this reason she assumed herself incorrect about the druid's intent.

“Patience is a virtue of victory,” despite herself, she repeated an adage quietly. It was one she found said to her frequently when she lost her tolerance for being timid. Sometimes, the greatest difficulty was in showing restraint.

Reasserting her attention on the maps, she focused particularly on that of the enemies' fortress. She found it worrying to think that, so close to their grand city, vile forces were encroached. Yet it was downright disturbing that this threat had managed to do so without any useful information being gleamed from them.

“If our foes are aware of their heresy, then they will rightfully be wary of the justice to come. Assuming we do not face incompetence, scouts will likely be sequestered among the woods to watch the roads.” Sophia tapped the fork in the road surrounded by forest, frowning. “With this chock point at their disposal, a direct attack would cost us before we so much as spy their stronghold.”

“Inevitably, a straight-forward siege would bring us victory from any enemy we could face. But we cannot be coy about how many human lives it would take for such defences. Few of our enemies deserve the honour of even fighting one of the Empire's kin, let alone taking one of our lives. For this, I think only less obvious angles of attack are going to earn us the keep quickly.”

As a trained cavalry charger, and holy knight of Zarus, Sophia thought of conquering enemies first through more direct means. She often expected to either have to lead or be apart of an army dispatch responsible for such situations. But the life of one human held more value than a family of half-breeds. It was difficult not to see how a direct strike would harm her own side in ways she couldn't accept. She sighed softly, the only quarter she would allow her now mounting irritation. How were they to make a plan rich with human ingenuity with such a pauper's intelligence? They were the elite, and she could spot some potential in terms of attacking, but she expected better.

Recent years of her life had been consumed by training with the best of the Empire's army., the same as the other Children. Her mind said they couldn't be so fallible – there had to be more information her superior could offer them. Even small details might help when they were so starved.

Sophia looked to Marcus, “Sir, I assume we face more than a skeletal crew of soldiers, so the river alone won't provide nourishment for them.” Gracious though she was, Astra would not be generous to Humanity's enemies, Sophia hoped. “How might they be supplying themselves? Do we know if they align under a recognizable banner? If they have allies that would viably do such, it might be best to approach under guise of sending support. Assuming they have none, Astra might be graciously offering us a stealthier means to approach, as well as a supply line. We would need only float downriver and arrive under nightfall to get close to the keep. Either way might allow us to open the gates to allow in greater numbers with less effort.”

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I have no idea if ANY of this doesn't sound dumb. But I'm guessing we're supposed to be trying to make some kind of plan. Everyone feel free to throw suggestions/point out flaws/give a better plan of attack. We're high up enough in the military to make requests so that should open up options.

[JaviSua]

Edric bowed to Marcus, recognizing his mistake and feeling like an idiot immediately. "My apologies, sir. I forgot myself." Putting his idiocy behind him, Edric looks closely at the map. He listened intently to Sophia's suggestions, his well-known smile beginning to show itself. "I like where you're going, Sophia. A ruse like that would get us in much easier than a straight assault, and with limited casualties. I agree that information on any possible allies or a banner of some sort would help immensely."

[Tacitus]

Marcus merely nods at Edric before he turns away for a moment to take an assortment of papers being handed to him by one of the officers stationed in the briefing room. He shuffles through them before he looks up again, "Ah, well, not everyone is afforded the grace of such perfection as Zarus. Humanity is a perfect design but an individual may not be. It seems the map we require has been filed improperly and the scribes are in the process of retrieving a new one. Having not had interest in the affairs of the outside world until now our Empire has not devoted much time to surveys or intelligence."

He glanced to Carcer and Tarrin, "Considering our luck with maps today I would hope that anything is better than nothing at all. This particular map was drawn from memory after a series of divinations two weeks ago after it was revealed by our Lord on High that this would be a prime location for expansion. From these reports that I have just been handed it seems that the map may not accurately represent the stronghold itself. When the oracle performed his scry upon the area he was reported to have described crumbling stone walls in that general shape with only the largest tower yet remaining intact. He noted creatures with skin covered in boils but they blended with the trees well enough that he could not determine their number. This would more than likely indicate a lack of civilized occupancy."

At this Marcus glances back to Sophia and Edward, "First of all, I am here to give information only. You can leave when you chose and take however long you like so long as it is not excessive. There are no timetables for this mission but a swift and decisive blow will no doubt leave my superiors delighted. If my superiors are disappointed with the results, so too will I be. You can travel to the target in any way you see fit and capture it however you see fit. Once you arrive and secure the location you also need to consider the best means by which to secure supply lines and get word back to us with details so we can send work crews to repair and restore any damage as well as clear the surrounding area for improved visibility. And remember, always be on the lookout for those willing to serve the cause, human or not. To enslave those who would willingly serve is a sin against Zarus."

Lochar Only:

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What you have been able to glean about the area reveals that the river, known as The Lanta, was once a supply route through the area by boat and could easily be rebuilt as such.
Furthermore, the target, a stronghold once named after Dalaren Trollbane ironically fell to such creatures. The stronghold had once been a haven for races with elven blood who needed something upon the ground, out of the trees to secure access to the river and promote trade.
The forest currently has no name but in elven it was known as Orange Glen, for the shade of orange the leaves of many trees turned during the fall. The map represents an area of approximately one fourth of the forest on the northern side of the river with the southern half being nearly twice the size.
A plateau separates Zenith and the target such that land travel would take three to four days. The river, as it runs downstream, would take about a day and a half.

[Lochar]

Tarrin

Tarrin traces a finger over the river, looking thoughtful. "This appears to be the Lanta river, which would make the fortress Dalaren Trollbane's. It was an elven retreat, for when they needed to be on the land instead of swinging through the trees like apes.

The river was once a supply river, so I would assume that what is left of the stronghold has or had docks. We could come from upriver at night, scout it out, and then attack."

Tarrin runs a finger over the approximation of the map. "The problem is, as I see it, that this little bit of forest we see is only a quarter of what is on the north side of the river, and double the whole side on the southern. Land travel would include traveling through this forest, plus the plateau you don't see here. Say four days minimum.

River travel would be a day and a half, although that leaves us more open to attacks. We would have to have eyes to watch."

Tarrin taps the map one more time. "Unfortunatley, I don't know the area well enough myself to attempt to redraw this from memory. More's the pity."

Looking up at Marcus, Tarrin addresses him. "Sir, do we have any detailed maps at all of the general location? Or will I be mapping as I go?"

[Paramour Pink]

Sophia Halein

A plethora of considerations crashed through her head, but the vital point was that they really were meant to be the vanguard ahead of all others. Not only of the army, but of the Empire itself. It was a subduing honour in her mind that made Sophia silent for several moments after the last speaker. She chose instead of speaking to think on what information she might be able to add on the issue of Dalaran Trollbane's fortress. Without Tarrin's knowledge, she might never have recognised it.

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Knowledge: Architecture.

(1d20)[9] +14 = 23

[Siric]

Edward

Edward nods at Tarrin. "I suppose we should obtain transportation quickly, then. While Patience may be a virtue, the quicker we get into action the better."

[Unkabear]

Gordon considered all of what he saw and read. He could make it into this place easily enough. Though what he would do...poison the water supply, assassinate a leader or two. Still might happen, he wasn't ruling it out. Take out the top tier and then send in the others, it would be a slaughter. Though he figured that the others wouldn't mind that all that much. Kill the heretics and leave the people for conversion? Perhaps.

"Take to the river for most of the journey and leave off a little before a day of travel. Follow the rest of the way in by foot, follow paths less travelled if we could blaze our own trail all the better. That should bring us there with a measure of stealth. Only flight would bring us there faster and with a greater measure of stealth."

Gordon was not dismissing the possibility of wind walking. But he was not sure if this would be worth the use of Zarus's divine blessings as such. A boat ride would not go amiss though. But Gordon would be damned if he would ride all the way in.

[Jansviper]

Carcer tilts his head and stares around the table, then turns his attention back to the map. When he speaks, it is more to his companions than the rest of the room.

"Please, be at ease. Let us approach this problem as men and not wild beasts. Yon Gordon and Sophia have the right of it. When the conventional approach is unwise we must consider the teaching of the White Fang."

He raises a fist and lowers the other, bringing them together in front of his chest from above and below.

"We have among us two capable of spell-slinging from afar, and I have no doubts that at least one of them will be happy to assist from the skies. Additionally, before us sits one who we must not forget is likely the most fiercesome aerial combatant currently fielded by the Empire. There is no need for subtle planning at this junction, we strike hard and fast from multiple unconventional angles and the low beings will not know what hit them."

He looks each of them in the eyes.

Prudence and patience are for courtiers, generals and merchants. Even though we will be the superior force in any engagement we come to, giving the enemy time to react to our presence will be troubling in any circumstance. A flyby on dragon-back and a few well placed spells cast for maximum confusion will give us the time we need to approach from a more conventional direction.

[Tacitus]

Marcus sighs, "Unfortunately that is the best map we currently have. If we were able to locate the regional map it may be of some use but it would be of the same level of detail." He folds his arms and stands waiting, "Shall I take this to mean I should ready a boat or will you be requiring other means of travel.?"

[Paramour Pink]

Sophia Halein

Sophia had heard no objections to the idea of a riverside ride, and thought that were there any resentments to it, they were so minimal they went unsaid. It vaguely occurred to her then, it was an indistinct shame that Carcer should show his skill for speeches now, to them. Pretty speeches were often better left for lower-ranked soldiers. Knowing herself well enough, and expecting the same of everyone in this room, they were already motivated beyond the need for them.

Straightening herself, Sophia looked into her superiors' eyes. “Sir, a boat fulfils all established priorities of swiftness and stealth. Please arrange for it.”

She relaxed slightly then, showing she was no longer regarding Marcus, turning her head towards two of her peers in particular.

“But Gordon, Tarrin, I believe we might all be overestimating our soon-to-be purged enemy. At first I envisioned a well-kept keep with a sense of purpose and preparation. Instead, it sounds as though we stand against unstructured, if potentially dangerous, rabble. If we truly face an uncivilized foe, as our commander has said, then we have little to worry of, in regards to a remotely sophisticated system of reconnaissance, or pre-emptive strikes.”

It simply sounded to her that, if their Empire lacked in the intelligence department, then surely infidels would be all but blind to threats directly in front of them.

“Nightfall should be enough to keep us unseen without any added effort. At least, until we choose when to show the might of Zarus' Children.”

Outside of combat, Gordon was a man skilful at transgression, and appeared so inconspicuous that fish might never notice him swimming in their school. Likewise, Tarrin had a hand steady with regards to crossbows or cartography. Even remotely questioning his ability to put a map to good use was justification in her mind for him to employ his crossbow. While Sophia scarcely wanted to seem as though she was rebuking either of them on their expertise, inside that room was the best time – possibly the only one – to have any alterations or altercations over intended plans take place.

[Lochar]

Tarrin

"I agree that they won't be well coordinated, Sophia, but enough numbers can cause even the Children an issue. My suggestion is to come up at night, stop a bit away, and let me divine against them. That way I can hopefully get a better count of their numbers."

[Siric]

Edward

Edward stepped back a little when he realized he agreed exactly with what Carcer said. He's always found that Carcer was a bit to.... wild for his tastes. When the insane start making sense, it is a woeful day indeed.

"Tactics and strategies can be discussed later. First, we need to get there and scout out the area, find out what exactly we are up against."

[Unkabear]

Gordon

Gordon nodded his head. "Secure a boat, and we will be on our way soon." The sooner the better really, but he would have to learn to be a team player. And waiting might be in order.

"If a better map could be found we will take it with us. We will have a day of travel by river to contemplate our next move." Stealth is his consideration, but again, it may be the first casualty of this mission. He hoped not, but he had gone on missions with less.

[Lochar]

Tarrin

Tarrin turns to Marcus. "Sir, could I requisition two, possibly three scrolls of scrying, along with foci and components? I haven't had time to add that spell to my book, and I would prefer to be able to scry and allow others to see what I see as well. My arcane eye works for myself, but I have yet to manage a way to make a map as the spell views."

[JaviSua]

Edric nods in approval at his teammates' enthusiasm. "I agree. As soon as we can secure a boat I would like to be underway. I think we should allow our friend Tarrin to use his considerable skills in divination, once we come within a reasonable distance of the fortress. Preparation is important, no matter what the odds are."

[Jansviper]

Carcer grins, a hint of dark anticipation coloring his lips. "Sound logic all."

And like a popping soap bubble, the Dark Mage is gone. Carcer even has the grace to blink and look around himself as if unaware of his surroundings for a moment (which he was not, nor would anyone who has known him for a time think he was, but appearances had to be maintained despite that). Satisfied that the meeting was concluding, he stands and raises his eyebrows in inquiry at Marcus (his hand were already in his pockets retrieving spellbook and stylus)

[Tacitus]

The armored warrior turns to one of the officers and with a quick gesture passes along the command. The man quickly nods and heads off to ready their transportation as Marcus turns back to the group. He folds his arms, "If there is nothing else, you have one hour. If you need anything else beyond transportation and scrying materials let one of the officers here know." With the briefing completed he leaves the materials on the table and heads off for other important matters.

[Siric]

"Make sure the boat can also hold a bear? .... and is stocked with Bear Feed?"

[ZaneLaCoix]

One of the nondescript officers within the building salutes the group. "Yessir. The crew shall outfit the boat for each member, animal companions included." Making sure everything is set, the officers set them off saluting.

[Day 1]

Everything seems to go fine for the long trip along the stream. Everything is quiet aside from the creaks of the boat, the crews' sounds, and that of nature. Leaving the lands of their God, of the military, the forest's density increases, as do the curious sounds of nature watching.

[Hour 2200]

With the sun just peaking off to the distance, and darkness of night quickly descending, all seems calm. That is until the boat slows to a halt and a pair of navy heads connected to a serpentine necks rise up from the waters below, each on exact opposite sides of the boat. Each head a massive personification of a horrific breed of the creatures from the deep, and the snakes of the surface. "Greetings travelers, I have a puzzlement for you. Answer correctly and you may pass freely--loose and well... We'll see. Accept?" It's slithery tongue emphasizing each and ever little hissing syllable.

Spoiler

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Rushed I know, but feel free to fill in up to the stop within a post