Tyler

Abigail looked between Nikki and Holly several times, not sure she was fathoming what was being implied. "You want me to take care of this creature for your reward?" she asked incredulously, "Surely you are jesting." Nikki squirmed in embarrassment at being the center of attention here, especially being in the form she was in now. This was all too new and sudden for her, given she was still getting used to the changes, having only be conscious during them for a few minutes in total.

"Thank you," Nikki said softly, "I only hope I can return your kindness." "You could start by handing over the crown," Abigail reasserted herself into the conversation. "What crown?" "The True Crown of Ursa Madeum, the one you stole from Da Villa," Abigail growled. "I... I don't remember. My memories of everything that happened since I changed are... foggy at best. But I will try to help you look for it," Nikki offered, turning toward the mound of treasure. Ironically, the crown was visible at the top of the mound, for anyone that had actually been looking for it. "Um... is this it?" Nikki nuzzled it with her nose. "That's it," Abigail muttered, then gestured at one of her marines, "Fetch it for me." The marine nervously edged his way around the dragon, not wanting to share the same fate as some of his comrades had. Nikki saw how afraid he was of her, so she backed away to give him space to recover the prize. Quick as he could, the marine snatched up the crown and returned it to Abigail, who took a moment to observe the object of her quest. "So much for such a small thing," she mused, "Ironic, when you think of it." Manners, duchess. "Your assistance has been invaluable, Lady Sheathe," Abigail finally looked away from the crown to lock gazes with her fellow noble, "You have House Karradeen's gratitude, and you shall be rewarded well for your efforts."

Initially thinking to check in the back, Taylor instead decided to begin her search for the bathroom key behind the counter. She had just looped around the leaky beverage machines when Lumina burst into the room with a shout, nearly causing Taylor to jump out of her skin. "Don't do that!" she snapped, then calmed down enough to realize it was her own fault for being so paranoid, "Sorry, just... this place unnerves me." She then proceeded to the area behind the counter to begin to hunt for the key. It was a mess back there, and so she found herself shifting through all sorts junk, from cigarette packs and tins of chew, to magazines and receipts. Finally she found the register, but she didn't immediately think to look in the register for the key. In fact, she had been expecting to find it under one of the counters, in a cabinet or something. When that failed though, she just passively decided to open the register, curious if any money had been left inside. There was a little, but not enough to be of much value. She almost immediately forgot about it when she noticed there was a key inside the register, seemingly completing her mission by accident. With a shrug, she snatched up the key, recovered the towels and such that she had set aside, and began to head back to the bathroom to give it a try. As she crossed the store again, she noticed Quill attempting to go down the dark hallway which likely led to the backroom. She didn't think much of it until she was nearly at the restroom door, at which point she faintly heard Quill say something about not liking the look of something, and avoiding the door. This caused Taylor to hesitate for a moment and look back toward the others. Quill apparently was referring to the door in the hallway though, not the restroom door. Even so, this left Taylor pondering whether she really wanted to open the locked restroom door while everyone else was across the room and she was over here alone. An involuntary fit of shivers, seemingly because she was still wet and cold, changed her mind. She needed someplace private to strip and try to ring out and dry her clothes. Even better if there was a blow-dryer inside and someone could get the power reactivated in the next few minutes. As such, with the towels tucked under her arm, the big flashlight in one hand and the key in the other, she finally moved to unlock the door. The key fit and turned, indicated she had found the right one. However, the second she threw the door open, Taylor recoiled backward and let out a sound that was somewhere between a gag and a gasp. The smell was the first thing that hit her, that whiff of putrid odor that only those with the strongest of stomachs could withstand without reaction. It took nearly everything the young woman had not to hurl on the floor right then and there. When she finally recovered enough to actually focus her eyes ahead, she realized what her flashlight was shining on. "EEEIAAAYAHH!" she shrieked, jumping backward and crashing into a cardboard display, sending it and its contents all over the floor. What she had seen was only a fragment of the whole, but it was enough cause her troubled mind to jump to some terrible conclusions; imagery from horror movies, games and internet searches she had exposed herself to over the years were all being instantly dug out from the recesses of her mind. In that fraction of a second, her imagination had pieced the outside stimuli together with her internal memories to conclude that what she was seeing was some form of undead horror, and her first reaction was the assume it was about to charge forward and attack her. In reality, she had only seen part of a face, but it had been enough. The bulging, lifeless eyes, the slack mouth pooling with blood, the sickly green-white skin and greasy hair, it was enough to convince her, if for just a moment, that she had encountered some abomination straight out of a dark fantasy game. But a second or two removed from the revelation, and she was able to see more clearly that the thing she was staring at was truly and completely dead. Stepping back to the door, she moved the flashlight up and down the body briefly, enough to see that it was a human male, pinned to the wall by a fishing knife through the throat. The throat wound had been bleeding all over the place, as nearly the entire floor of the bathroom was covered in blood. That was enough for Taylor, who didn't need to see any more. Lunging forward, she grabbed the door and pulled it shut, then stood there a moment to catch her breath and let her heart slow down. "Sh-shit... shit, shit, shit, shit, shit..." she whispered to herself, realizing the implication of a murdered man in the building. Though all of that had occurred in a matter of less than ten seconds, someone else had surely noticed her antics by now. Whether they did or not though, Taylor was not about to be shy about announcing what she had found. "T-Th-There's a dead man in the restroom!" she blurted-out, barely able to speak with how shaky her entire body was, "Someone killed him!" There was a murderer loose, that much was certain. The man in the bathroom hadn't kill himself, nor was the victim of some sort of accident. For him to be pinned like he was, someone had to have stabbed him with enough force to penetrate the wall behind him with that knife. In addition, Taylor was not well-informed enough to know how the body acted after death, so the fact that it was still bleeding seemed to indicate to her that it was relatively fresh. Not too fresh though, as obviously it had been in there a few hours at least, given how oppressive the smell of decomposition was. Either way, all indications where that a killer had been here within the last few days, possibly the last few hours, had murdered this man, and that no authorities or next of kin had arrived to claim the body and give it a proper burial. Normally Taylor might have left her mind open to the possibility that the man inside had been killed in self-defense, but with how paranoid she was feeling right now, the thought never reached consideration. Instead, she immediately began to worry about the possibility of the killer coming back, or perhaps still being here somewhere. What if it was one of the very people she had entered the store with? It was certainly possible. She trusted Maat, despite herself, and by extension she deduced that Quill and Lumina must be okay, since they arrived in his company. And June was her friend and had arrived with her, so she was clear. But Iohmar and Cecil were entirely different matters. Iohmar had arrived at the same time as June and Taylor, also out walking in darkness and rain. While June and Taylor were lost and had no choice, Iohmar seemed at least a little more like he had arrived her on purpose, which begged the question of why. What crazy reason would one have to be attempting to hike to this town through the rain? Still, Cecil was the truly suspicious one, as he had only emerged from the shadows after everyone else was assembled. The fact that he had a bike with him only made him seem more out of place. Who rides a bike in the rain? Nothing added up with him unless you assumed one of two things: either he was hiding something, or he wasn't all there in the head. Both could be true, and both were good enough reasons to suspect him. Maybe he had been lying in wait for more people arrive before revealing himself. Maybe he had been inside the building, but saw the headlights from the rollerbus, prompting him to exit out the back way (and forget to lock it, which would explain how Maat got in), so that he could then approach the group and make it appear like he had also just arrived. Or maybe he had killed the man, then attempted to flee the scene, but got caught in the rainstorm and realized he had no choice but to return to the only shelter in the area. Any of these were reasonable assumptions in her mind, and after all, it was pretty damn convenient that four completely separate parties happened to converge on this spot all at once... Wasn't it?

Absolutely planning on checking out the bathroom when I go to post! Hopefully tomorrow if everything cooperates.

Nikki was silent, Abigail's harsh words being no match for the even harsher judgement she was already rendering upon herself. Stupid, selfish, weak, wild, monstrous... she couldn't seem to run out of negative adjectives to describe what she thought of herself now. But in the midst of her internal court trial, one where she was ready to condemn herself and announce to Holly that the sentence must be death, an image popped into her head. She could see someone, probably Sera, arriving at her parent's cabin out in the woods, carrying a lock of blue-dyed hair and a bloody dragon tooth, then going on to explain to them, in crass and undiplomatic terms, what happened to their daughter. Her mother would be distraught, her father would be crushed, her siblings would forever stare off into the woods, wondering when big sister was coming home. That line of thought only made Nikki choke and cry harder, causing Abigail to turn away in disgust. After a few seconds, Nikki managed to get a hold of herself long enough to be able to choke out her reply to Holly. She wasn't sure what she was getting herself into, but she knew it was her only hope to ever see the family she selfishly abandoned again. She couldn't just accept death knowing how much it would affect them. "I'll... I'll do whatev-ever you say. P-please though... if I serve you, can you help me be human again? Please..." Shane sighed as she watched the whole thing unfold, feeling a certain kindred spirit with the poor dragon-girl-thing. Except Nikki had it far worse. At least Shane was still human and had full control of her faculties... mostly.

I think everyone is posted up!

As Zack attempted to deduce the reason for the militia's silence, Cordoza was silently rehearsing the cease-fire speech she planned to give once they actually took the radio tower. Or she had been for much of the trip here, though now she was thinking of what she’d try to say to the militiamen inside to try and persuade them to lay down their weapons and allow the Norkotians to take the building without further violence. “...it seems like they’re fightin’ extra hard over here, saving their best men and tricks for last. Their Aces in the Hole, so to speak?” Cordoza blinked and turned her head slightly to meet Zack’s glance. The terminology was deliberate, meant to suggest that the young mercenary suspected the men here were using the artifact to defend the building. Nothing could be further than the truth, of course, though Zack had no way of knowing that. Only Cordoza and a few members of the city’s inner-circle even knew of its existence (which only made the Tin Man’s knowledge of it all the more baffling to her), and even within that tiny group, fewer still knew what it really was. “No,” she wordlessly mouthed in Zack’s direction, with a brief shake of her head. “Ya could say that maybe,” the captain drawled, clueless as to what Zack had been implying, “That or they’re juss that blasted desperate. This is wunna the last holdouts up top here, after all. They got nowheres else tuh go. Was thinkin’ of just calling in artillery or an airstrike or somethin’ thuh. This place ain’t worth gettin’ more of my boys killed over.” “It’s a good thing you didn’t then,” Tessa squinted at the structure, which was made of concrete and looked very sturdy, “Or we’d have to go way further to find another suitable facility.” “Whaddya mean?” “We’re here to help you secure the radio tower,” Tessa deadpanned. “Oh? Ohhhhh… is that so?” the captain pivoted to face the newcomers fully, “The Colonel only said he was sendin’ some people tuh me, but he neglected tuh say anythin’ more, “‘cuz them Gaian’s is a listenin’ and the radio ain’t safe” or somethin’ like that. If’d he’d a told me that, I’d-a told him to send a brigade of tanks instead!” “We need the building intact,” Tessa groaned, then pointed at Cordoza, “That’s the mayor of this fucking town, and we need to get her inside so she can broadcast a cease and desist and for-the-love-of-the-Divine-stop-shooting order. She might be able to convince the people in that building to surrender too.” “That so?” the captain said again, eyeing Cordoza, “Fine then. Better work, 'cuz if it don't, we’ll be givin’ up the element of surprise.” Tessa then nodded for Cordoza to act. The battered mayor stepped forward, though she stayed out of the line-of-fire, and began calling toward the building, hoping someone would hear her. “This is Major Nina Cordoza, can anyone hear me in there? If you can, I hereby order you to cease all hostilities! A truce is to be put in place, but I must be allowed to try and broadcast this to anyone else who may still be fighting!” There was no response, however; which prompted Cordoza to try again. “Hello? Is there anyone over there?! Please answer me! You are ordered to answer me!” Still nothing. “Damn it!” the captain spat, even more irritable than he had been previously. “We have to take it by force then, if they refuse to surrender,” Tessa sighed. “Right, but if we’re doin’ this, then I’m plannin’ the attack. Ain’t letting ya brown-nosers decide how me and my boys go about gittin’ ourselves killed.” the captain growled. Tessa was already quite done with this whole situation, so she didn’t bother to argue. She was just a corporal anyhow, so her opinion truly didn’t matter compared to a much higher-ranking officer. Even their escort squad had at least three people of higher rank than her. Thus, they allowed the captain to have his way with the planned assault. * * * However, fifteen minutes later, when the men came out of their positions and charged the tower building, they found no resistance. The various groups of soldiers, positioned according to some plan your humble narrator has no interest in trying to cook-up and explain, were soon nearly at the building’s walls. “What’s going on? Are they sleeping?” a soldier wondered aloud. “If that’s the case, then keep quiet,” Tessa hissed, sticking close to Cordoza and Zack, who she viewed as her ticket to getting out of this stupid war. The soldiers made sure to avoid the windows, pressing their backs against the concrete walls and watching every opening in the building for signs of counter-attack. But the interior of the structure seemed dark, and no enemy fire came. A fire team, just ahead of Cordoza, Zack and Tessa, assembled at the main entrance and prepared breach charges to blow-open the door. As the men braced themselves, grenades ready to hurl inside and guns ready to roll, the four survivors of the lift incident couldn’t help but sense that there was something off here… Fortunately for Clive, while Krieger had already moved out of range of being able to help, the guardsman was still nearby. After having fired the initial burst that drew most of the enemy fire, the man had been shot a couple of times in the shoulder and was forced to take cover and attempt to field-dress his wounds in the shadows. Krieger had been on the opposite side of the mercenaries as him, and had avoided most of their wrath initially… at least until he started following and harassing them as they chased Tynes. However, Krieger’s pursuit and Clive’s reemergence had proven beneficial to the guardsman, allowing him adequate time to dig any bullets or shrapnel out of his shoulder and tie-off the wounds with a makeshift bandage. Unfortunately, though it had been his left shoulder which was less important, the lack of strength in his left arm meant it was going to be very difficult to control the recoil of the magnum-powered submachinegun the man wielded. But guardsmen were the best of the best that Norkotia had to offer, and regardless of his physical injury, the man knew his mission was clear: Kill any hostiles still in this area, then attempt to reunite with the executor. As the situation grew more desperate for Clive, with mercenaries using the covering fire of their comrades to duck to-and-fro from cover-to-cover, slowly tightening the noose around the cowboy, a sudden burst of automatic fire echoed through the dim steel mill. One of the mercenaries, who had been trying to move up at that moment, was promptly splattered all-over the massive steel cylinder behind him. The guardsman continued, using controlled bursts to force the other mercs back behind their own respective covers, giving Clive the moment of initiative he needed. There was a hint of wistful disappointment on Mara’s face as the mercenary who had been taunting her was incinerated before she could so much as take a single action against him. The Tin Man’s appearance, rather unexpected given this was the roof of the steel mill, had quickly changed the balance of power. Even if Tynes managed to kill a couple of the goons, it was very unlikely that Mara could kill fifteen-to-twenty or so mercs and the Tin Man, all at once. She would normally have tried to bottleneck them in the stairwell and hold them off, which probably would have let Tynes reach the roof without any risk from the mercs, but it would also have left him alone with the Tin Man. It was probably best that she was here with him, even if the situation was still untenable. As for Tynes though, the appearance of the man who was mucking-up his carefully-laid plan to assert Norkotian dominance over the Plateau of Zuhl caused his heart to race with anger. This was supposed to be the coming-of-age moment for his rule and for the army he had created, and yet here stood a foreign mercenary with all the power and leverage. As the Tin Man spoke though, Tynes had to force himself to breathe deeply and not lose his temper. “Mercer. Gotta say, that explains a lot. You and that PUNK been f***in’ up everything. I hope you’re at least here for money,” the Tin Man briefly turned his attention to the cyborg. “Weyall, if I weren’t here for money, that'd make me an awful poor mercenary, wouldn't it?” Mara responded with a smug grin. Mara’s brief distraction was enough to give Tynes time to clear his mind and consider the situation. Negotiation was their only option, as the numbers here were just impossible to overcome. It was unlikely they’d get any help from Krieger or the guardsman, who were probably dead by now. And with the Tin Man holding them at gunpoint, calling in reinforcements to save them would surely be impossible. “I’m offering you a choice, executor. I leave and I take my men with me in a non-violent fashion IF you do one thing for me. Tell a small squad of your men to bring Cordoza here in the next twenty minutes.” Or was it impossible? “You do that? I’m gone. Refuse? I do what I have to do.” The wheels started turning in Tynes’s stragetic mind. The Tin Man needed Cordoza, which meant the Norkotians still had custody of her, which was good. Why he needed Cordoza and not Tynes remained a mystery, as there seemed no obvious reason why the mayor of a town that was about to be placed under Tynes’s control would be of more value than the man who was taking over. Even so, the need for Cordoza was an opportunity, and while the Tin Man was resourceful, Tynes had his own resources up his sleeve. Mara had already given Tynes the information he needed when she first arrived. “What guarantee do I have that you will leave?” Tynes inquired, his mind already made-up that he would, in fact, accept the offer, but wanting to make his response seem more natural. Unless the Tin Man gave a very poor answer, and truth be told, even “you have no choice but to trust me” was a good enough reason, the next thing the executor would do would be to reluctantly accept the proposal. “Very well, I accept your terms. I will radio my men to bring her here.” Mara was a little surprised at the capitulation, though she realized it was the only choice that could be made right now. Still, she stayed on alert as Tynes pulled out his radio transmitter and adjusted the frequency. After a moment or two of working out the static, he began speaking into the device. “Sheriff 1 to Toolbox, Sheriff 1 to Toolbox, come in Toolbox, over,” Tynes spoke, using his designated radio codename to identify himself. “This is Toolbox,” a monotone voice answered on the other end, “Go ahead Sheriff 1, over.” Mara immediately realized what Tynes was doing the second she heard the voice on the other end of the radio. It was a fantastic risk, but it could very well work-out perfectly. She just had to continue to play her role as though she had no idea what was going on, while Tynes laid his trap. “This is Sheriff 1, there has been a change of plans. Have Cordoza moved to the Carl J. Duggert Steel Mill in Sector 6. This is a Priority Echo operation, so keep everything strictly confidential. Send only a minimal escort, no more than one truck. Repeat, this is Priority Echo, keep it quiet, minimal escort. The escorts must only approach the mill entrance if I am visibly present. Over.” “Copy Sheriff 1,” the response was prompt, “Estimated time of arrival is twenty-five minutes. Over.” “You have fifteen, over.” “Acknowledged, Toolbox out.” And with that, Tynes had made perhaps the largest gamble he’d ever make in his career. He had to hope that the Tin Man was not privy to the Norkotians radio callsigns, but that was an unlikely scenario. The greater risk was Cordoza, who’s current whereabouts were uncertain. Hopefully she was being kept in a safehouse somewhere, out of sight and well-guarded, awaiting further orders from the executor. Tynes had no way of knowing that the colonel in charge of the lifts had arbitrarily decided to forgo waiting for command, and had launched his own operation to try and broadcast the surrender. If word that Cordoza was not on her way reached the Tin Man, the entire plan would fail miserably. But as it was, if Cordoza’s true location remained a secret for long enough, the trap could still be sprung. “Toolbox” was not a military commander, rather, he was Joseph Tynes’s chief advisor and spymaster, Diric Redbridge. The Vulk (a species of elf native to Zuhl) was the one who had done his research on the Tin Man and concluded that the risk of betrayal was high, and subsequently shipped Mara in as one of several contingencies. The Priority Echo code did not mean the operation was top-secret, but rather that the executor was in mortal danger and needed help at all cost. Redbridge was the epitome of logic, and he would be able to immediately deduce the situation and respond appropriately. What Tynes had done was give his most trusted lieutenant a location, time-frame and priority, all under the auspices of complying with the Tin Man’s demand. Now came the most dangerous part: Surviving the fifteen minutes it would take for the trap to the be sprung..

Abigail raised an eyebrow at how Holly appeared to desire to recruit the dragon rather than kill it, not to mention the fact that she seemed to know it by name. But the duchess was getting used to the weirdness of Lady Sheathe and her associates by now, so she just decided to keep quiet and see how it played out. She did come for the crown after all, so the dragon's life was inconsequential. For Nikki though, this moment of realization was enough to make her go mad in and of itself. She had never fully had a chance to accept herself as this mocking approximation of a wyvern, nor had she had time to fully consider all of the further implications, before her human mind had been overridden by the beast. She was only getting faded, foggy memories of those long months as a marauding monster, though what she did remember horrified her. Even more horrific was the fact that she felt a still living man squirming around in her belly, trying desperately to stay alive. It was making her sick, which on a positive note, probably meant there was a lot of human still left in her. "Working for you...?" she repeated Holly's last line, not even having realized what was being asked of her. The girl-turned-monster's mind was still flooding with thoughts and memories, of Marigold and Laughingstock and Anima and Knoles and Nu Martyr. Then of her long treks across Terrenus, of the battle against Ragnar in the dark forest, of her decision to leave home and embark on this foolish adventure. "No... No, I... I deserve to die..." she sputtered, fatalistically coming to the conclusion that she had brought this upon herself, and that everything she had done and everyone she had harmed was her fault. "Wow, this is the most pathetic dragon I've ever heard of," Abigail finally couldn't resist commenting on the matter.

Erin: Lost her home, family, possessions (due to getting Isekai'd to Val), a bit of her sanity, and all of her dignity. Shane: Shane also lost their home, family, homeland and possessions (due to being exiled by own fault), then lost their life, then finally lost their gender. Talk about being stripped down the bones and starting over... Abigail: Abigail lost her mother when she was little, but has otherwise mostly taken rather than lost. She was going to lose her house, but changes in circumstances for me on Val have left me reconsidering that plot, so for now, she's still duchess. So these days, the only thing Abby loses is her temper. Rodan: You could say Rodan also lost his home and family, but he didn't care as much for them as others do. Rodan's humanity is probably the most distinct thing he lost, except he never cared about being human in the first place. Nikki: Nikki also lost her humanity, but not in a moral sense... in a far more literal sense, after getting turned into a wyvern-hybrid-thing. Tynes: Lost his political power, his position, his reputation, one and a half of his arms, and his plotline. 🤣 Mara: Her entire family died in a car accident as part of her backstory, so she does come from a history of loss. Since then, she hasn't really had much, so she has had little to lose.

"You know this creature?" the Abigail questioned, ceasing her use of the Soul Speaker's power and reverting to the common tongue. "Sera... Sera... I remember Sera... But I don't know any of you," Nikki stammered weakly, looking around and seeing dead or bruised soldiers, "Did I do all that...? I-I-I'm sorry. I didn't know what I was doing." Much to everyone's surprise, the wyvern began crying as she backed herself to the wall. From Nikki's perspective, she had only just woken up from a long, frightful, nightmare-ridden sleep. In fact, that last thing she remembered clearly was Nu Martyr. She was flying above the city, trying to get back to where she parked her bike. Once she finally found it though, she discovered the message left to her by Marigold. Marigold probably meant well, but at the time, Nikki only saw it as abandonment, as the message read how Marigold had scrambled the navigation on the bike and erased all traces of his base's location, which would make it very difficult for her to find it again. But more than that, it revealed the truth that Laughingstock had also abandoned her, leaving her as this bastardized hybrid, no longer human, but not quite dragon either. The last thing she remembered reading was to "take those wings and fly". Marigold probably meant it to be inspirational, a message to make the most of things now that she was free of Laughingstock's mental control. But instead, she despaired. She did fly off, but somewhere along the way, her thoughts overridden by the horrible implications of her predicament and her emotions clouded by negativity in every respect, the girl-turned-wyvern lost herself. She wasn't sure when, as it was like drifting off into a dream, where you never really know at what point it happened. But everything from that point was a dream-like blur... She had crossed the ocean back to Terrenus, a long and arduous flight, powered by intense emotion if nothing else. When she finally landed, she slept for a time in exhaustion, before hunting for food. Soon, she found this cave to take refuge in, and from there, she became even more consumed by the dragon's desires. She began attacking nearby settlements or passing ships, stealing anything that gleamed and sparkled in the light, while burning, crushing or eating anyone who tried to stop her. By now, there was actually a small but growing reputation for the "human-dragon" that ravaged a section of the coastline west of Casper. Nikki was lucky that the people who found her first had little emotional investment in slaying that dragon though. Even so, Abigail still did not trust the sudden vulnerability the beast was showing. "Is this some sort of trick?" the duchess demanded, then looked at Holly, "Is she attempting to deceive us now?"

The dragon continued powering through the repeated attacks, but it was clear they were causing the creature intense pain. One of Holly's bullets struck its eye, causing it to hiss angrily, before slamming its entire body against Wolnought's shield. The force of impact was enough to finally break through, and the dragon ended up slamming into several marines thanks to its momentum. It then turned and faced toward Holly and Aslom, one eye squeezed shut, but the other glaring at them angrily. Fighting through another volley of bullets from Abigail's men, the wyvern began to breath in deeply, rearing up for what appeared to be a fire breath attack. Instead, all that came out was a powerful burst of hot, smelly air. It was enough to throw anyone in its path off their feet, as well as probably fry their nose hairs, but otherwise it did no damage. The wheezing of the wyvern seemed to indicate that it had intended to breath fire, but that maybe it had run out of the necessary energy to do so. Even so, Holly and her crew would have been blasted across the chamber and out of reach of the beast. It then turned toward the duchess, whose firing line of marines was causing it much grief. With a wing-propelled forward lunge, the wyvern crossed the room with incredible speed, crushing one marine upon landing, then brushing several off their feet with a swipe of its tail. Abigail backed away, firing her pistol at the creature as she watched it grab an unfortunate marine in its mouth and swallow the poor man whole. Suddenly, Abigail found herself without anyone around her to protect her, and the angry wyvern now glaring down at her with its one open eye. The duchess continued to back away, her revolver soon running out of bullets, and her back soon finding the cave wall. She had nowhere left to go. The wyvern drew in closer, hissing angry and rearing up to strike. But it was at that moment that Abigail recalled her secret weapon, a weapon she was not sure would work on the Wyvern, but one which she had to put all her hope into regardless. Every human left alive in the room, be they sailor, marine or Blackspear, suddenly felt a wave of subtle fear wash across them, as a dull pressure pressed against their skull. This was brought upon them when Abigail raised a finger toward the wyvern and cried out defiantly: "Mglagln ahna uh'enyth ng ah'hri ya ulnah!" Even the Wyvern reacted to the power of the Soul Speaker, visibly recoiling in surprise and even taking a step back away from the duchess. "Ah'hri ya, mgepahmgep uh'enyth! Y' ymg' ah uh'eog hai!" Abigail bellowed. The dragon backed away further, lowering itself closer to the ground and shaking its head as if fighting something off. The onlookers watched as it thrashed about for several seconds, before its bright green eye began to turn to a soft blue, and the ethereal glow in its pupil began to fade. Suddenly it looked much more human, and an expression of a confusion and fear came across its features. "Where... where am I? What... is... happening? Wha--" the wyvern stammered, "What have... I done?" It continued back away from the humans as though cowering before them.

Abigail then silently waved them all to advance, after first motioning for Da Villa's men to move in first. Those men were stooges of a dead crimelord who had no value to the duchess except as pawns, and she treated them as such. Behind them, the Karradeen marines, as well as Abigail, Holly and their respective servants, moved in with weapons ready. Before they were in position though, the dragon roused, and a bright green eye shot open. "More..." the dragon growled in a raspy, feminine voice. It quickly began to rise, revealing it was not a full dragon, but rather a wyvern, as it lacked forelegs. It was still fairly large, and clearly dangerous. "FIRE!" Abigail roared at her followers. Da Villa's men opened fire with their weapons, mostly plasma rifles or magitech energy weapons. Despite each impact causing burns and pain to the wyvern though, they did not seem to stop it. In fact, it only seemed to make the beast angry. "Move to the flanks," Abigail directed the marines, "let the pawns keep its attention!" The wyvern, its large brown main flowing behind it, suddenly lunged forward at the Da Villa goons, grabbing one with its mouth and crushing him with its teeth, before hurling him across the room with violent force. Abigail moved with the men going to the right, her pistol drawn and sword in her left hand. "Target its belly, volley-fire on my command!" she barked. The marines raised their rifles and took aim. "FIRE!" The bullets struck the side of the wyvern, penetrating the leather skin, but not particularly deep. Only faint trickles of blood emerged from the wounds, and now the wyvern's attention had shifted to its most recent assailants. "You will not have... my... treasure..." the creature hissed, its voice sounding simplistic and strained, as though its mind impaired.

OKAY, so back to the actual point of the thread. @Phoebe You are free to get oil and vehicles (as well as arms) from BlackBlood (or another Zuhl entity if you wish), but you won't need me for the thread. You can also fit them into your own aesthetic as you need, since I won't be there being control-freak over what the company can or can't or will or won't do. lol

Correct, and that has certainly crossed my mind. However, I like the oil/diesel/dirty-gritty aesthetic a lot. Granted, I could still get a gritty aesthetic by switching to more of a Star Wars-style of sci-fi, which was sorta one of the original intents. However, really, I think I just want to be free of faction/location lore more than anything! I just wanna take some of my solo characters and go play, and not worry about writing damn articles or doing grindy political or business deal-type threads. This like someone firing a non-lethal missile at my aircraft, but I hit the eject button anyway just because I'm sick of flying the damn thing. 🤣 And yes! I. DO. GET. YOUR. LOL.

Oh, sorry! I actually meant to ping you instead of Dabi earlier. lol Same applies, as what I said above, where I think if you are interested in doing business with BB, you can do so without my consent now. I'm probably going to cut the defense unit out of the lore but keep the arms producer part. To be brutally honest, I got in deeper than I wanted to get with the whole Norkotia-Zuhl-BlackBlood thing, and the lore-writing was just grindy and not fun. The fact that I kinda can't expand my plotline beyond where it currently is due to simple constraints of the greater Lagrimosa lore... is honestly a welcome excuse to hit the ejection button. lol