Of Steam and Steel: IC (Mature) {Currently Open}

[Paladin Sheppard]

Grinning more like the Cheshire cat than a wolf, Paige dragged her willing (yet unwitting) accomplice over to where Captain Wolkshammer was chatting with an aerodrome official and a pair of what looked like stranded travelers.

Stopping behind him, then leaning out to the side, she winked at the Angel, and proceeded with her plan. "Baseel!, I can't believe your dumping us so soon, and for an Angel no less!" She said in a mock upset voice, but she was grinning wickedly at Addy, although she was ready to look distressed the moment Captain Wolkshammer turned around.   

[SpottedKitty]

Zelah felt an odd tickling sensation where her headwings usually were as she approached Captain Wolkshammer and the two Angels. She didn't realise what was happening, though, until she stopped beside the wolf 'Cubi — she couldn't feel anyone's emotions, and the constant whispering of unshielded thoughts had been silenced. It made her uneasy and uncomfortable: as if she were in a room full of people muttering to themselves, and suddenly she'd put her head into a big box of feathers. Was it an attack of some kind, even here in the Captain's home base? Was it a natural effect of coming too close to another 'Cubi? Was it a spell of some kind? If so, it was a kind of magic she hadn't encountered before.

Zelah was so distracted she almost missed hearing what the wolf said as she all but draped herself over Captain Wolkshammer. Ohmygawd, she thought, aghast. What are you doing, woman, he's a Demon and they look like powerful Creatures — don't annoy them or embarrass them!

Ohmygawd, he's your CO!

Ohmygawd, and mine!

She tried not to let her mental velocipede crash show on her face, but she couldn't avoid letting her ears and whiskers droop, and it felt like her tail had at least one kink in it.

[Mechanisto]

Josephina made her way through the crowded market space as best she could. As always, she had gone to significant lengths to look like an ordinary being; her wings were hidden, as they almost always were these days. Though she was wearing one of her plainer dresses, it was still more extravagant than the local fare.

No... perhaps that wasn't quite true. The local pirate and mercenary captains were all dressed as sharply as they could afford; crisp military uniforms surrounded her on all sides, bedecked with medals and awards of questionable authenticity. It was no doubt a ploy to present themselves as something other than hardened criminals... but Josephine knew there was more to it that that. These people wanted respect... authority. Dignity.

She was no better dressed than many of the robber barons here. But she was certainly the only one wearing an extravagant gown; an elegant Victorian affair, bedecked with ruffled blue silk and cinched with a wasp-waist corset. Even the women who held rank here preferred straight-cut jackets and slacks. Among these cut-throats, a dress was not a show of strength or power.

Nor was it a uniform. Her outfit showed no trace of actual rank or affiliation; she looked like any other upper-class citizen. The only symbol of rank or authority she wore was currently clasped at her hip... a strange sort of mechanized rapier. The bell and pistol-grip were intricately decorated with jewels and metalwork, like the rapier of a duelist. Instead of a metal blade, the length of the sword resembled a violin bow; a long, metal shaft, strung with metal wires on one side. Though the sword's function was not obvious, it's form was clear. It was a cavalryman's sabre; the sword used by mechanized infantry. It was a symbol of office first and foremost, but a real weapon nonetheless. This delicate noble's daughter was a pilot.

She kept her eyes sharp, and her ears open. She knew quite a bit about the kind of replacement parts she needed, and had already declined several merchants who had offered substandard wares. Of course, she was also in the market for employment... and suffered from the same problem. She had already declined several offers for work that were substandard, or too poorly financed. Or worse... morally questionable.

She attempted to maintain her graceful demeanour while she considered lowering her standards... an unpleasant thought. As always, she would have to see through the sales pitch to what actually lay beyond.

(OOC: Something like these. But blue and silver.)

[WhiteFox]

Gabriel perused the crowd, measuring up the potentials.

The demon looks like a good choice, but you can never really tell with those sorts. He thought.

Gee, isn't that a pretty dress...

A unicorn..? Gabriel frowned. I can't remember if they count as beings or creatures... I don't think they have any fancy magics or such. She has a right prim bearing, tho... could be an aristocrat or an officer, or the like... Gabriel cut off mid thought as he spotted something dangling from the ladies hip.

A cavalry saber. Mechanized cavalry.

Gabriel brought Walsh about, and matched speed with the slender unicorn. "Beggin a moment of your time?" He said. He continued without waiting for a response, talking swiftly. "I couldn't help notice your right sharp blade and bearing, ma'am; y'must be an upstanding officer." He tugged the brim of his hat in greeting. "M'name's Gabriel Cartwright, mechanic and engineer, an' ahm looking for gainful emplyment with a fine an' proper person such as y'r elf. I can strip down and tune up any hardware ever seen on the feild of battle, from any nation you can name, an' I can pick wreck clean as fast as you can make one."

He put on his best smile, and gave the lady the widest, brightest, and hopeful eyes he could muster. "If y'd be so kind an' generous as to give a young tinkerer a spot of work to earn his supper, I'd be right honoured."

"I got letters o' recommendation, if ya need 'em..." He said.

[Mechanisto]

The lady turned towards Gabriel with a look on her face that suggested she was expecting to address a little child. Her look changed to one of surprise as she realized that this particular child was sitting on a motorized bi-cycle that might have been several times as large as it's driver.

It was just as well that Gabriel continued his spiel without hesitation, for the lady was stunned into a sort of mild speechlessness. The idea of a child working on massive, complex machinery seemed unthinkable. Then again...

The lady stopped walking, and crouched down low enough to gander at the bi-cycle. She gazed at it for a time, and then rose to look him directly in the eyes. It was hard to tell how much of that puppy-dog look was the result of carefully rehearsed manipulation. Not all of it, though...

"Let's see about this." She drew her sabre from it's belt-loop, holding it by the 'blade' such that he could see the handle. The bell itself, in addition to being ornate and bejeweled, had a number of tiny mechanisms built into it. Indeed, the hilt was an actual, spring-mounted grip. It wasn't that different than the control lever on a motorcycle's handlebar... though it looked more like an over-sized trigger.

"See what you can make of it, lad. If you can tell me where she came from, and what you think of her, I'll see those letters of yours."

[Noone]

Kyirri ate his meal rather quickly. It felt good on his stomach, eating like this was a luxury to him. Most of the time he'd have to scrape on by with whatever he could get. He didn't think too much about that though, fatigue was weighing down on him, leaving his senses dulled. He avoided making eye contact with anyone around. After he ate, he went up to his room.

[WhiteFox]

Gabriels eyes flicked over the blade once or twice. He made no move to touch it. When he looked back up to the unicorn, his face had gone from enthusiasm to focused intent.

He could have said a dozen things about the blade at this point.

He locked eyes with her. "It's... 'Aeliseian.'" He said, in a very deliberate tone.

[Mechanisto]

Josephina watched the boy, paying especial note to the pause in his sentence. It certainly implied that he knew more than he was letting on. That alone was noteworthy.

It would have to do for now. She offered the boy a quick nod, and spoke quietly. "I have yet to purchase a replacement part for my materiel. It may be a long... and possibly fruitless search; you can go fetch your papers if you haven't them here. Otherwise, your welcome to follow aside while I browse. I'll either be here, or at the seventh vault in the industry complex. Well... probably, I'll be at the salon just across the street. If you can call it that."

"Oh, my manners!" She offered a slight bow at the waist and a gentle smile. "Josephine. No titles or ranks to worry about... for now. "

[Mel Dragonkitty]

Unfortunately for the cubi Adelaide had absolutely no sense of playfulness on the best of days, for which this day hadn't qualified. She stared discouragingly at the woman. "I'm a demon," was her only response, aside from ruffling her large feathered wings as if daring a contradiction. The ferret cubi had put the whole race into disgrace for the day as far as the chinchilla was concerned and she wasn't going to encourage their racial insanity.

She pulled herself together and managed her fragile smile at the young demon. "Thank you very much for your generosity. It's a pleasure to see that hospitality isn't a completely lost art around here." She tossed a glare at the ferret, intensifying the spell a bit at the same time to let him know that nothing was forgiven.

[WhiteFox]

Gabriels smile reappeared. "Thank you kindly, Miss Josephina. If you want to see 'em, I have my papers stowed on Walsh, here." He patted the bike. "But then, I could say the same for all my worldly possessions. If you can't find the part you need, I can fabricate a replacement. All I'd need are the materials and a shop to work in."

Gabriel brought the bike alongside Josphina, and matched her pace.

[Mechanisto]

Josephina nodded when Gabriel mentioned the papers, but shook her head when he spoke of fabricating a new part. "Well... unfortunately, the component I need is somewhat of a specialty item. I need one of these..."

She tapped a finger on one of the more prominent jewels on the hilt of her saber.

"...but larger. Much larger."

[WhiteFox]

Gabriel covered a breif look of consternation with a tug on the brim of his hat. "Well, ma'am, I suppose you'll have to find someone else to provide that service." He said.

[Lisky]

Wolksheem Aerodrome

Bas turned to give Paige an indignant look.  The fact that the Angel seemed to be already cross had him worried.  "Miss Sheppard, my family have been strong patrons of the Order of St. Vesalius.  This is family business... not personal entertainment.  So, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll be tending to something that -does- seem to require my personal attention."

Turning back to Sister Addy, Bas gave a weaker smile, "apologies  for the interruption, madam.  As i was saying, it would be an honor if you'd accompany me to the castle... I'm certain the Duke and Dame Wolkshammar would be delighted to play host to you for the evening." 

Giving a formal bow, the demon flourished an arm towards the stairs leading down away from the weasel's desk, and towards the city outside.

In the background of all this, a being frog was doodling some art, passing the time while waiting for one of the several people rumored to be able to get him into the Voethfellian Arcane Archive.  The congregation hadn't seemed to notice him, though a passing creature, a rather extravagantly dressed taur type mythos,  dropped a small precious stone in the hat he'd rather nonchalantly left on the bench... apparently the passerbyer  deemed the being in need of charity. 


Outside the Bar

As Challam left the bar, he crossed paths with several people going about their nightly tasks.  Their thoughts were murky, difficult to make out.  Perhaps he'd had more alcohol than expected, a sleepy haze fell over the cubi.  The smell of acrid smoke, coal smoke, came from behind.  Several shouts, thoughts still hazy, Challam couldn't even make out their intent.  Suddenly his mind hit a crystal clarity... A good deal of anger was suddenly in the air, followed by a dark figure shouting, "Halt, Cubi! Stay where you are, and keep your hands where i can see them!"

In the distance, Will could hear the panic to start to break out.  The orange glow of the flame flickering off some low clouds in the evening sky.  The faintest taste and smell of smoke touched his lips and nose as he continued on his path, completely undeterred.


Nhylamar Market

The horns that Gabe had spotted earlier had disappeared into the crowd, vanishing somewhere deeper into the sprawling market district.    The mention of a soul-stone meant money, a good deal of money at that.  Stones were hard enough to come-by, especially legally. 

A few of the merchants had heard and seen the subtle move that Josephina had made.  The top of the line wares were being brought out.  Weapons, armor, clothing, exotic dyes.  The types of items that would generally cost more than the average person just browsing would be willing to pay.  In one of the back alleys, a rather mangy looking oxen seemed to be staring at the hilt of the unicorn's sword.  He opened his long-coat, revealing the dark, purple-toned, elongated teardrop shaped, and about fist sized stone.  The kind of stone that generally held the soul of a moderately powerful being, or a weaker creature.


Nhylamar Badlands 

Seth was fast enough with his tentacles, the being hadn't expected the move.  Seth's aim was a little low, though, as the being tried to jump back, the blade snicker-snacked between the ribs, the being fell flat on his back, gasping for breath, though mortally wounded.  He'd die in a few seconds.  Seth could feel pain and fear radiating from the victim... He wouldn't have time to focus on the thoughts however, he had just enough warning that another being was trying to at least slow him down as a bullet clipped the very edge of his shielding wing.

The projectile may have actually missed, it was tough to tell, though his wing's edge felt hot.  On the far side of his wing, a being holding a shotgun was busy pumping the action, loading a new shell.  Shit, how'd i miss?! the being  thought, with a bit of an incredulous edge.  The emotion was mixed with his panic and horror.


Westwynd Inn

Kyirri's room was plain, a simple quilt, a simple stuffed mattress, clean sheets, a bathroom with working plumbing, and a small night-stand.  The room was rather Spartan, painted a shade of gray that made it seem dark.  It was a place to rest, nothing more, nothing less.

[Azlan]

Locke had returned the slight bow and was ready with the variety of papers and documents necessary for making port in a Nhylamar city.  On the bridge deck and in the main portion of the ship, close to where other could just see from the outside, his mechanical maids busied themselves.  This was more a show that the ship was crewed, or seemingly so, to outsiders in an attempt to stave off casual, larcenous individuals.

Presenting the carefully organized paperwork, he politely answered the feline's question, "just doing a bit of shopping mostly, a few bits of equipment and perhaps even an extra hand or two aboard.  I have been to Nhylamar before, but not Yagsandras specifically.  As such I might spend a day or two in port."

[insidexml]

Sikici honestly had no idea what the lioness was talking about, assuming that she wasn't talking literally. That would be silly; who ever heard of a drink that kicked you? How would you drink such a drink? If you tried to take a sip, it would kick you in the face. The angel was of the opinion that it would be difficult to drink anything if it tried to kick you in the face while you did so. What was a drink that was smooth? As in... smooth with the ladies, kind of smooth? Or smooth with regards to texture? Was a light drink a drink that did not weight very much? So confusing.

"I honestly have no idea what you just said. Let's pretend I understood all that, and ordered a lighter drink. Is that acceptable?"

[Tapewolf]

Underneath his fur, Seth's face flushed at the pain and fear of his dying prey.  This was why he'd spent time as a bounty hunter - it had offered a ready supply of these darker emotions at no overall cost to society.  Much as it pained him to admit it, he liked them - he scarcely felt it as a bullet took off a couple of feathers.
"Forgive me," he said.

Another Being was taking aim and Seth was forced to turn his attention away from the dying man.  As he turned to face his attacker, his wings swivelled to keep them facing the other minds, protecting his back and the back of his head.
He let fly a fireball at the shotgun - aiming at the middle, it should at worst, deflect his aim.  If he was lucky, it would ignite any wooden parts, and maybe scorch the guy's hand into the bargain.  If not, he'd have to trust in his wings' protection and jump - preferably in the opposite direction to last time.  Keep them on their toes...

Where is that Creature? he wondered briefly.  Is he hurt?  Pain was pain... the incubus hadn't been paying much attention to where it came from, as long as it wasn't his own.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Cyril turned one eye to watch the companions of the demon yclept Baseel sneak up behind him, smirk, and then whine at him. One corner of his lips twitched, watching, although the smooth, calm surface emotions of his mind didn't twitch; the amusement was deeper than that, it seemed.

At the chinchilla's response, however, he raised one eyebrow, briefly, and ran a fairly professional eye over her. Large, feathered white wings, fluffy grey fur, all the signs pointed to more Angel blood than Demon. However, it wasn't his place to gainsay her statement. After all, for all he knew, she was more Demon than Angel. And, either way, it was her business, not his. Not gentlemanly to mention it, however, so he merely lowered the brow again and went back to looking inscrutable.

In response to the various introductions, he proffered his own. "Sir Cyril Whittington-Smythe, at yours. The Fifth, that is." He brushed an imaginary crumb from his lapel, and continued. "I'm apparently here to meet a diplomatic delegation, although since they seem to be as disorganised as my original selection." He glanced over at the irritable ferret, and the two slightly confused ladies closing on Baseel. Based on the slightly confused and dazed expression on one of their faces, and the matching irritable look on the weasel, there was more than one Cubi around being affected by the slightly obnoxious spell that the Dame Doctor had cast. He made a quick mental note to inquire after obtaining a copy of it for later use. And, also, to figure out precisely what it did, since it didn't seem as universal as might be preferable...


He glanced at the indicated arm. "Am I included in this invitation, or should I look forward to the pleasurable company of your weasel, there?"

[Tipod]

The gleaming finish of the handcannons immediately caught Bart's eye, drawing him over to the phoenix's stand like a siren call. Such fine, deadly weapons, easily capable of blowing the head off a troll at thirty yards. He soon drifted off into testosterone-addled fantasy...

This is what it means to be a warrior for a whole new era: a bitchin' trenchcoat, steel toe boots planted firmly on the back of whatever Creature you blew to Kingdom Come, a revolver twirling in your right hand, and a dame hanging off the other. Preferably something leggy like a serval or antelope, and in tattered clothing for whatever reason. "Don't worry, sweetheart," you croon in a handsome baritone, "'cause there's nothing to fear when a Thom'sen's at your side..."

He snapped out of dream just in time to realize he'd been slavering over her stock for almost twelve seconds. "...uh, pardon me. D-did you make all of these yourself?"

[Paladin Sheppard]

Being the Succubus she was Paige took Baseel's rebuff in stride, even winking at the Badger who she'd caught the almost smile from. Turning to Zelah she tried no to laugh at the feline's reaction.

Patting her on the cheek, Paige smiled at her. "Hun you really need to relax a bit more, it all in the name of fun, especially for an 'old' air pirate like me." Pausing she looked around for a moment with a wistful smile.  "You want to head up to the castle? Or how about some shopping?"

[techmaster-glitch]

Aelisium Forest

  As the Storm Scorp continued back up deeper into the forest, Gaakronacht suddenly noticed something...the thunderous footsteps of the Ahnk'Ator steam mech were suddeenly getting fainter.
  "Gezz! I think he's running!"
  "Perfect! He's probably facing away from us again! After him!"
  Gaakronact stopped the Storm Scorp, then once again moved it forward. Suddenly, he remembered something Lieutenant Taige had said before they got separated. "Gezz, do we even have any flare rounds?"
  Gezzemocht froze in place for a moment, then jumped out of his seat. "We will in a moment!" He clambered over the side of his secondary cockpit, and hung off of a few rungs on the Scorp's side while opening up one of the storage compartments with his other hand. He grabbed out a box of shells for their pistols, a special compartmented box with various powders, and a few little bits of scrap metal before climbing back up into his cockpit. He pulled a tool off his bandolier, and started dissecting one of the pistol shells.
   As Gaakronacht continued to move the Storm Scorp foward, he suddenly heard a sharp crack off to the side, the sound of an unmistakeable gunshot. Both brothers whipped their heads around, and saw that someone they hadn't seen before had just shot one of the hostile infantry. They couldn't quite make out her features, but she was definitely wearing Aelisium clothing, and was also certainly not military. Gaakronact called out to her, "Take cover, citizen!" before continuing the mech foward, keeping a close eye out, waiting for the moment he could see the Ahnk'Ator machine through the tree trunks...

[JamesCray]

Yagsandras Market

Seeing that the trip to the market, at least for it's original purpose, seemed to be something of a bust, Johan decided to at least make it worth it somehow, and the rainwater forcing him to make a tactical retreat under his hat gave him just the idea as to what he should be looking for. He ducked into the nearest clothier, brushing his large ears down with his fingers near the entrance rather than dripping all over the floor.

"Now, to find a nice umbrella." he murmured, and started looking around.

[Ghostwish]

Well it seemed Challam had figured out his aunt's secret of sobriety shattering. He was 'pleasantly' drunk, and quite enjoying it as well. He didn't even quite notice the smell of smoke at first, but after a few whiffs he began to look about in a somewhat dazed state, when someone promptly accosted him from behind.

"Whoa! Hey!" Challam called, putting both his hands in the air and looking over his shoulder. "What's the problem??" He asked in a confused manner..

[Mechanisto]

Josephine noticed the 'subtle shift' almost immediately, and it taxed her dwindling reserves of tact. She had been trying not to be obvious about what she wanted, for fear of attracting the wrong kind of attention. Then again, she would have had to attempt a purchase eventually... and she wasn't exactly going through proper channels anyhow.

She nearly put her hand to her sword when the alley-dealer reached to open his coat. At the sight of the stone, her eyes narrowed. She stepped forward, lifted a hand slightly, and cast one of the precious few spells she knew by heart. She was no sorceress, not by far... but she knew her stones.

The spell extended her innate empathic ability. A glowing aura appeared around the stone, like the telling aura that hovered around all sentient creatures. The aura revealed the stone's temperament, but not in the form of emotions and surface thoughts. This aura, if you knew what to look for, could reveal many things; the quality and power of the soul within. Any evidence of astral corrosion or scarring, perhaps caused by shoddy enchanting or abusive treatment. And, above all, it revealed whether the soul had been taken by force; ripped from a body with neither permission nor right.

That last one was all too likely. Willing soulstones were one in a million; the stuff of myth and legend. She would still buy it if it wasn't... but she had to know.

[Noone]

Looks so cozy, a bath and some good rest would really do me well... Kyirri thought as he surveyed the room. Still, no reason to get comfy just yet... He surveyed the room more thoroughly, looking for other possible exits or entrances, perhaps a window. He then searched around for anything he could use to barricade the door. He also examined the door, looking to determine what kind of lock it used, and how secure it appeared.

[Kafzeil]

Instinct is a truly funny thing. Especially when two different instincts clashed.

Lucy had just experienced just a clash. The Beaver had seen her. Though thankfully they hadn't noticed she was biologically deceased.

Her most primal instinct told he to hide, to dig herself to flee before she was soon looking down the barrel of a scattergun. However, another part of her brain wrestled control away from her animalistic impulses for survival.

"Hey, sorry but that ain't happening! I'm kinda trapped under a goddamn tree, but, you know, I'll get to gnawing my own leg off right now!" She yelled back, her tone a sardonic one.

Yet again, her sarcasm flashed it's sharp tongue in the face of a crisis.

[SpottedKitty]

Zelah's ears flattened for a moment before twitching erect again, although her expression seemed to be as much annoyance as agitation. Something was interfering with the ability she'd pretty much taken for granted the last couple of hundred years, to hear unshielded thoughts and taste even stifled or inhibited emotions. This sudden blankness had pushed her off-balance, but she realised the wolf 'Cubi — Shepherd, the Captain had called her — didn't seem bothered by it. Was she shielded somehow, or was she just used to the muffled sensation?

... or had she caused it?

"Um..." Zelah said decisively, "I'd prefer to go to the castle with the Captain first, and get settled in. Shopping can wait until some other time." Besides, she thought, until I know more about you, Shepherd, I'm not going to turn my back on you, or go anywhere alone with you. Okay, you seem to be friendly enough — that perkiness, though, it'll grate at my nerves after a while! — but I wouldn't even know your name if the Captain hadn't mentioned it just now.

Just as she was about to turn towards the exit Wolkshammer had indicated, she glanced curiously at the grey-furred rodentlike Creature. She'd said she was a Demon, but wasn't it Angels who were supposed to have feathered wings? These Creatures were crazy...

[Corgatha Taldorthar]

Will had to catch his breath; even though he had forced himself to walk away as sedately as he could muster the will for, he still felt giddy, exalted. He had made several turns and doublings back through the streets, and could feel the warmth off to his right, air toasted radiating out from the coals and the beams, spreading a warm front throughout the hamlet. Trying to contain himself, he made his way to one of the larger, yet rougher cobbled houses in a nicer section of town, and hauled himself up the side, shortly attaining the rooftop, from which he stretched out and watched the cackling flames consume the building he had visited.

He sat. He stared. There was this one bull in his construction team, a lumbering oaf, but Will liked him. Tom was almost certainly asleep, but he wondered how the burly being would view the fire. Probably as more opportunity to work, another chunk of jink to bring home.

The foreman would be mad if he weren't at his barracks come dawn, but Will had sat up enough nights to know that there was always a fake dawn before the true one, a small lighting in the eastern sky. It would give him enough time to scramble back to the workplace and pretend to have been in bed all night.


He lay down on his back, bundled up his little satchel so that he could crane his neck towards the inferno without too much discomfort. When his pants got wet, he shifted his gaze skyward. Someone once told him that the stars were nothing more than huge gas fires, billions of miles away, far enough away so that they didn't appear like the sun. The idea fascinated him, and he entertained a brief flight of fancy of traveling to the glorious scorching masses.

[Lisky]

Nhylamar Badlands

The few remaining pirates proved to be short work for the pair of cubi...  Little more than nicks and scrapes tarnished their appearance, practically nothing compared to the dead and dismembered bodies which littered the ground at their feet.  The pirate female was out cold, though having a rather terrible nightmare, as a wave of fear radiated from her form, curled into the fetal position, attempting to protect itself from some unseen assailant .


Around the Wagons

Sounds crept back into the squirrel cubi's ears, someone was entering the area.  Still dazed, and bruised from the pistol-whipping,  Stephan had no idea who it was.  Nothing seemed quite right just yet, though that was probably just the headache.  It seemed to be getting worse, again.


Wolksheem Aerodrome

Bas snickered, "I'm sorry, Paige, but we'll be holding off on the shopping until tomorrow.  We're doing a supply run for some additional shells for MJOLNIR's main guns, along with having a good deal of free time.  As such, tomorrow, you can shop to your heart's content.  For now, I am heading for the castle."

Turning his head and attention to the badger, who'd introduced himself as part of the diplomatic entourage, the demon replied, "It is a privilege, Mr. Whittington-Smythe... Perhaps they've been delayed, or perhaps some beauracrat in the group decided to throw hissy-fit about being forced to leave their office-work behind..." 

Giving a shrug, the demon continued, " As an ambassador, it would be improper not to extend the offer to you as well, good sir..."  Addressing the collection as a whole, Bas said, "If you'd please follow me, it is but a short trip to the castle, though be sure to approach the carts from the rear.  I've had a few close calls not following my own advice, and those gryphons pulling the carts can be a bit... cheeky"

With a smirk, Bas headed outside, several large, dart-like carts were resting on the ground, perhaps a half-dozen 4 person carts, each attached to a fair sized gryphon (Gryphon B for Demonology) about the size of a large horse of the Clydesdale breed.


Yagsandras Docking Tower

The feline gave a polite nod as he jotted down some notes.  "Nothing really to worry about then.  If you're staying for too much longer, just remember to check in with the dock-master to secure yourself a more permanent hanger to rent.  For now, just pull into the slip, and you're  cleared for your stay, Sir."

As he finished, the feline officer took a quick turn then disappeared from view.  A massive release of magical energy and the faint tinges of a teleport spell.  Apparently he'd left the Angel to do as he pleased


Strip Club (Sikici)

Grinning, practically ear to ear, the lioness replied, "How about i get you some water, and you can figure out what else you want from there?   Sound good?"  She didn't really wait for a reply before heading back to the bar.  She was going to give the Angel a few minutes regardless.


Clothing Store (Johan)

The store he'd entered was filled with  various styles of coats, pants, formal ware, and dresses.  At first glance, there wasn't an umbrella to be found, merely coats.  Sitting at the counter was a older looking, narrow handed aardvark.  He was thin, twig-like, though appeared nimble as he stitched the seam on a skirt.  He took a few moments to finish the work he was doing before pointing towards the back wall.  There were several style of umbrella, hidden from Johan's initial view by several display pieces.  It was almost as if the store owner knew what he was thinking.

A few moments later, the same aardvark appeared, though with leathery wing-stubs, long tentacles led back into his workshop area, as he asked, "Iz zhere anytheeg eh cahn 'elp 'ew viz, good  zehr?"  He spoke in a have accent, difficult to tell exactly where, though his headwings were also visible now...


Nhylamar Market (Josephine and Gabe)

Josephine could feel that the soul was that of a being.  Definitely taken by force, and taken in combat.  The soul was stronger than most, probably a mercenary, or officer of some kind.  The stone itself appeared to be in decent condition, perhaps reused 2 or 3 times at most, and it's quality was remarkable, clearly purchased initially from a government broker.  The soul was also quite fresh, no less than a few weeks old.   

Sitting atop his bike, Gabe could clearly see the shady looking individual as well.  The pair of horns from earlier also resurfaced for a blink, before disappearing into another shop a few blocks up.  The crowd was moderately dense, not packed shoulder to shoulder, yet not barren... There were enough people, with a solid enough flow, that making a b-line for the store would be all but impossible.

Gunsmith (Bart)

The phoenix, wearing a skirt, tight fitting top, with a looser coat, looked rather petite, especially given the size of some of the weapons in her shop.  Some of the pistol seemed to have bores that were larger, around, than her thumbs.   She giggled, in a horribly feminine way.  "What type of small shop keeper doesn't sell their own wares, my mysterious and toothy friend?"  She said in a soft soprano.

Reaching under her counter, Bart could hear the shift of something metal scraping against the wooden stand.  "Since you seem -very- interested,  I thought i'd pull out something... special... just  for you."

A bit of snicker escaped her beak as she set the tiny pistol on the counter top.  It glimmered with the inlaid gem-stones, the slightly pinkish-toned pearl handle of the derringer set on top.  A rearing horse in silver was etched into the small grip.

The pistol was an over-under barrel style, and clearly designed for a woman.  "Most powerful gun in stock" the phoenix girl chortled with delight, as she smugly grinned at the demon.


Aelisium Forest

The path the taller mech had taken was clear, though it had made a sudden turn.  Tracking it would be difficult, it's footsteps echoed through the woods, and with the turn, despite it's size and bulk, the great war-machine had managed to escape.  As it reached a second river perhaps a half-mile down the road, it all but disappeared, moving faster than the storm-scorp could ever hope to achieve.  Behind it, a few shards of metal, along with the dead insectis on the ground.

Outside the Burning Bar

The demon crept out of the shadows, wearing a uniform clearly indicating him as a local constable.  He said in a gruff and accusing tone, "Just where do you think you're going?  And why is the bar you just left on fire?"

Moving closer, the demon's shape grew more clear, when he was a few feet from a lamp-post, his features were more clear.  A Bull, large, muscular, short cropped hair, and a pair of horns that would make many question just what he was overcompensating for. 

A pair of manacles danged from one hand, the other was pointed straight at Challam, a single finger extended, it's owner looking quite cross.  In the background, a handful of creatures were trying to contain the inferno with water and ice spells, attempting to salvage the bar, or at least isolate it from the surrounding buildings.


From his vantage point atop the roof, Will could see the flames lick higher and higher.  He could see the fire winning the battle for his building of choice, despite several powerful creature's best efforts.  He could see the bar being evacuated, and could even hear the shouts of someone else being accused of -his- crime.  The sun wouldn't rear it's head for many hours... and, as luck would have it, the foreman was far too busy sleeping off a busy day's work to notice anything.   He was unconscious almost on the other side of town.


On the River

Arroyo would note that there were a lot of smaller boats weaving in and out of the spaces between the larger ships.  There appeared to be a clear spot between a couple of larger vessels heading south.  As the feline was making his towards the slot, however, a loud, high-pitched *CRACK* echoed from the upper deck of the cargo hauler behind him.  A being holding a pistol was standing near the edge of the deck, a splash as well.

Someone screamed, another crack, and the scream ended.  Pirates  didn't -just- occupy the skies, after all.


Westwynd Inn 

As far as the half-sized roo-rat could tell, the room was very solidly built.  Although unable to tell, a number of reinforcement enchantments had also been placed on the exterior.  A safety feature many inns and hostels were adopting to prevent a brawl outside from disturbing their patrons inside.  It was good for return business if a lightning bolt crashed through one's window, and killed their guests, after all.

There was a single window, on the same wall as the headboard as the bed, and located a little ways away.  If one wanted to sleep, there was very little preventing it.  A simple flick of a switch to douse the enchanted flames, which gave off no heat, and the locking of the simple dead-bolt mechanism seemed to drowned out all outside sound.  A noise muffling enchantment linked with the lock.

[Tapewolf]

Sethir ran a few minor spells to clear off the blood and heal what nicks he had sustained.  There was a small hole in his suit.  He cursed and ran a stitching spell over it.  Demons sometimes took offense at being asked if they were okay, so he refrained from asking the feline how he was and turned his attention to the bodies, living and dead.

"It didn't have to be this way," he said aloud, "But it's a better fate than you'd get if you were captured."  This brought him to a new problem, their own captive.  What would they do with her afterwards?  Clearly, turning her in would be a death sentence.  If she turned violent they might have to kill her anyway, of course...

Seth raised an eyebrow.  The stun spell may have glanced her or something because the girl seemed to be asleep rather than completely unconscious.  In fact, she seemed to be having some kind of nightmare.  He sighed... entering dreams wasn't his forte - entering a nightmare would be a pain in the arse.

He glanced at the Demon feline.  "What do you think?  Should I try to wake her up, or enter her dreams and interrogate her there?"

[WhiteFox]

   Gabriel inched his bike along, staying alongside Josephina. He glanced about, unabashedly wide eyed and rubber-necking, smiling brightly.
  Which gave him ample opportunity to scan the crowd at regular intervals. He mentally kept track of about a half dozen individuals that seemed to stand out as questionable. It was hard to say just what it was that made someone "stand out"... Gabe just went by instinct.
  "Miss Josephina, unless you have any objection, I think I'll stay back whilst you conduct your affairs." Gabe said. "Certain kinds of dealings make me apprehensive, don't you know. I might as well survey the local colour till you're done." His upbeat demeanor didn't falter, but his hand casually unfastened the catch on Hollands holster. The motion was covered by a number of other actions over Walsh's dashboard.

((OOC: Translation, "I'm going to watch your back and keep an eye on the crowd for any trouble."))