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As Hemmit traveled forth, curiosity set in, causing the Merc to examine the device that Amantis had given him, shortly after deciding to insert it into his ear. His bioform assimilated the technology, literally fusing with it, as it did with most magitech. Thin, hair like tendrils crept through the earpiece as it was dragged into Matt's form and reprogrammed to provide him advanced user interfaces; which adjusted in synchrony to a modified C.R.O.O.K to regulate a steady function. Even though he wasn't a Cyborg, nor an Android, Hemmit had no problem interacting with the technology of this world; finding it extremely similar to that of his own. A few indicators cycled into his HUD, lighting up frequencies behind his shades with locations and channels of information that he could view. Jackpot, he had gained access to the network.   The trip was spanning the city, leading the hired hand towards the outskirts as he trekked the roads. It wasn't long before he reached it's edges. Shambled remains of buildings, vigils of his memories, became a much more common sight. The forlorn looks of the less frequent passerbys, combined with those of the brutish locals made it known that Matt was heading into the wrong side of town. In fact, he was already being tailed by a duo of men.   The pair kept their distance, watching Matt from afar and holding small talk; eye's prying over their patchy beards in a discreet thirst for riches. It probably wasn't an everyday occurrence for a militant to pass through this neck of the jungle, and his Grandian leather boots were probably worth more than a months salary for these punks. The mystery of what Matthew hid in the case he carried probably drove them jolly, assuming that they enjoyed their work. They persued Matt for a while longer, and having taken notice of them, Hemmit repositioned his guns in an attempt to passively dissuade them, letting them rest firmly against his rear waistline. Matthew jeered a bit in a cocky fashion once he realized that they had begun to think twice, turning tail on short notice. Unfortunately, they were being respectable businessmen, much like himself, instead.   Matt had reached his destination, a small store built into the base of a large fallen tree, which was easy enough to identify apart from what little structures where around. Everything else seemed so runned down, rebuilt to remain intact, and hardly so. This establishment seemed newer, causing paranoia to claw at the soldiers neck. He had definitely seen his fair share of cut houses. This was going to be one hell of an easy job as long as he could keep his cool. If he didn't... Well, the thought truly lingered for a moment before passing.   The salesman's glasses bioformed as he entered, retracting into his nasal passages and the corners of his eyes, the hard light lenses fading into his white eyes, which burst with sudden hazel hues. Matt let the door behind him close gently and promptly approached the service counter, reluctant to see a middle aged woman begin to engage him. The two exchanged smiles and made eye contact, the first step to business. After being greeted with a simple "Hello" the gentleman placed the goods on the counter and began the classic art of flapping his gums.

Her orders were simple, transport the criminal to the airship, and deliver him to Reyer City. It sounded simple enough, though there was a certainty from her Viceroy that she should be cautious, yet remain discreet. For this reason, she assembled her crew based upon quality over quantity. Including the Captain herself, she compiled her familiar squad of three psions and two wizards. While the actual task at hand was on the lawmen, Xartia insisted on sending an extra security detail. If he had have had things his way he would have strung the man up by his neck in the town square for all to see. While the Captain agreed the man should die, she wasn't sure she agreed with such barbaric methods when it could be done by such easier, convenient means. Then again, perhaps his crimes did elicit that ill will shall befall him. While she wasn't religious herself, the Captain was a firm believer in Karma. "Ma'am! They're preparing to move the package to the carrier. ETD, approximately 13 minutes." "Inform the rest of the team, meet at the ship no later than seven minutes from now. I will personally walk and arrive with the package. You should probably tell Ian first, he's usually the slowest." Her fellow psion left to inform the third like them and the two wizards that it was time to go. Captain Rebecca reported to the jailhouse and merely waited outside, positioning herself roughly fifty feet from the presumed exit that would be used when moving the Doctor. The jailhouse was nothing special by the design of it's outward appearance, but just like the stone roads of Predator's Keep, this quaint jail was one that magic and the like would not see you escape. Only authorized personnel had access to cast within or even upon the facility, otherwise, the heavy enchantments afoot proved to absorb or simply disrupt the energies so swift and so precise that one couldn't even see their powers trying to manifest outside of them, assuming they had any. Long story short, it was safe. Unfortunately the cells were nothing more than holding cells. This was a jailhouse, not necessarily a full scale prison. Thanks to the nature of this particular fellows sentencing, the city was experiencing it's first happening of this nature. Never had they needed to send a criminal away to suffer a more severe fate than what they could offer here.  Thanks to the relatively low crime rate in these parts of the Carmine Dominion, there were no other convicts present. The undivided attention of their legal system was given to the man of the hour. The murderer and conspiring cultist. In all, officers of the law worked hand in hand by a dozen to evacuate the criminal, in which only four of them left the facility entirely to move the convict. Accompanying him personally the entire was a Marshall. As they walked to the airship docked a few hundreds of yards away, the Captain fell in the with the small convoy, the rest of her party should already be arriving at the ship as ordered. "Good morning Marshal, Captain Rebecca reporting on behalf of the Viceroy himself. We have been ordered to gather a small party for quality assurance. Being the first mission of this nature, our Viceroy wishes to remove as many chances of failure as possible." "With all do respect, Captain, this is a simple escort mission with a simple guilty party. He hadn't put up much of any fuss yet, I doubt he's going to start now. You can tell the Viceroy your added assistance is not necessary." "You have your orders Marshal, and I have mine. In case it wasn't clear, my team is accompanying you on this mission. This is not a negotiation or a debate, I am not asking, I am informing." The convoy stopped and the Marshal turned to face the Captain directly. She too stopped with them and stood headstrong, facing him with just as much severity despite her shorter and generally smaller stature. She cared not that she was female or smaller than him. Rebecca was a gifted psion, and one of the original immigrants to PK when that's all the scarlet region was. To be here now with the Viceroy whom she shared such a deep history with made her feel a bit entitled in a city that was theirs. "Very well. So long as you all let me do my job, I'll let you do yours. If you have a team, were are they?" "They should already be aboard the vessel. I don't see them outside, so I have to assume they're inside already as I ordered them to head in ahead of time." Aboard the airship was a crew of roughly 165, essential to running this size ship. It carried upon it a platoon of fifty, in which the Marshal, along with the Captain and her party would also be joining. While they all felt as if they were perfectly prepared, and everything seemed to be running smooth, it was curious to consider just how well they could prepare for something they held no experience with. The Captain recalled the jail underground in Predator's Keep. While it served it's purpose, she remembered the earlier days holding quite a few struggles that were a result of nothing more than inexperience. Thankfully those events had been overcome, and they could all be counted on a single hand. Still, her party was only five total, personally. Their minimal experience would prove nearly invaluable with some many other ranks afoot and all with their on training and methods. All with their own direct orders. The soldiers and crew were for the ships, the team and Marshal for the convict, and the guards remaining from the walk to the ship would ultimately see the ship's departure before heading back to the jailhouse. By the time they arrived and boarded the ship, her team was indeed there. Once the prisoner was secure in his on board holding cell, they would begin making preparations for their departure. In the meantime the ships guards would execute patrols to ensure safety of the vessel inside and out. The ship's Commander was busy with his immediate crew on the ridge, running diagnostics to ensure all systems were and would remain functioning as they should, before, during, and after take off.

The sight of the land looked all too similar to Gaylord Mar who lived in a nation litterly drowning in land like this. Ruined, toxic lands: at least it made him feel as if he was at home so he didn't feel very disturbed by this. He had traveled a long way to get here, having been dropped off the air ship that was taking him a bit too early so he considered he was late for the meeting. This job would be perfect for him, as he would begin a peaceful life of farming. But of course the king requested that a branching office be made there to, however The king did say he'll give Gaylord a 2 day delay before the others arrive to construct the office so that was decent at least. He'll get 2 days of peaceful farming just like his ancestors did before him, before his home land transformed into a wasteland. He had begun to open the doors of the ruined farmhouse which stood now as a reminder of what used to be and what  the land could be once again. "So Where do we start?" Was the question asked as he closed the door and leaned on a wall lightly as he worried it might collapse if he put pressure on it.

“Rightly couldn’t tell you. I’ll need to know what I’m up against. I’ll spare you the details unless you want them though” Mori went to school for this after all, and the school was woefully inadequate for her level of talent and experience when it came to these matters. If Ilyana did want the details, Mori would describe as succinctly as she could (but still rather lengthily) how she needed to find the servers upon which the location’s information was stored, bypass their security in a manner that would not tip  off her hand. The Foundation was an entirely different beast altogether, their security would likely be much more complex, and might take a lot of time to decipher (through brute force) if it turned out to be heavily encrypted. If the AI they were said to be making was even a little active, it would also prove to be an enormous, unpredictable obstacle. Mori would not be able to work from the inn in the event she might be traced back.

James took a short breather himself while the rest of the party rested, and then set to work gathering their spoils of battle. Experience was the most valuable loot here, unfortunately it did not seem like undead skeletons possessed too much in the way of valuables. The hammer of Might was a fine prize, well-crafted and ornate, and Praetorian's halberd might have been even more so, as it had seemed to possess diseased and wounding properties, but it was destroyed in the battle with the Magnus Chhitten. Might's claymore was a rough, jagged thing, only suited to battle thanks to the strength and ferocity of its wielder, but Shrieker's shield remained intact, if slightly dented. James would tell Jinsoku to salvage what remained of Praetorian's armor, the pieces of warded and runed plate was valuable and could make a nice addition to his Bronze Man armor as either additional plating or as a trophy. There was one more item however, James spied a small, blood-red ring on the hand of Berserker. Cutting the finger off, he held it up to the light, a most curious oddity, a cool jade ring streaked with crimson. It was Selene's prize naturally, if she wanted it. The party was welcome to try and salvage anything else they wanted off their fallen foes. James would draw his taichi, the Rekka Hidemitsu, and setting it alight with flame, he would use the burning blade to try and hack through the dead Alpha Chhitten's head and arms, and maybe try to skin it of its carapace. How he intended to carry the parts back, with one of the primary claws itself being as long as he was tall... well he really didn't know yet, but he'd figure it out. Party gained: Might's Hammer (Ornate and Veteran rarity) (Claimed by Dan) 4 Pieces of Enruned Armor Plate (Unclaimed) Shrieker's Targe (Ability to project magic shield) (Unclaimed) Berserker Ring (Ability to cast Bloodthirst) (Unclaimed) Carapace of Magnus Chhitten (Unclaimed?) Sycthe Arms of Magnus Chhitten (Unclaimed?)