Fury Road (ORC Dominion of Hex I-50)

[Rian Taske]

The Astral Astoria​

​

"I'm not even supposed to gorram BE here, cripes."

"Please-" The shaky voice couldn't really be ignored, and Rian was all too aware that this? Wasn't helping anything.

"Yeah yeah, I got you. Nope, stop pawing at me. Put pressure here. No, here. Look, you over there, come help me or you're going to be kneeling in a puddle of bothan in a minute."

The zabrak next to her, back to the mess cabinets, blinked in confusion.

"I'm sorry- you- do.... do bothans melt?"

For a moment, hands covered in blood, everything around them fell away. Rian just stared at him, one good eye incredulous. Everything had devolved so quickly. Screaming. Blaster fire opened in narrow corridors. She wasn't even supposed to be here, but she'd been late coming back from a meet up with her friend [member="Ari Flannigan"], and missed her original connection flight. The Astral Astoria had been the next ship out to where she was headed and that had been that. Now here she was, keeping a bothan from bleeding out on the floor of the mess kitchen, while a zabrak thought.....

"No you karking nerf herder, he's gonna bleed out, you get me? Stars give me strength. Come here." She reached over and grabbed his hand, pressing it down onto the bothan's leg where she'd been holding up until that point. Beneath the tattoos, the zabrak looked positively green.

"H-how long do I need to stay like this?"

Rian stood up, groaning slightly as she did. A stretch and she looked down. "I'm going to try to make it back to my cabin, or to a first aid station, whichever doesn't get me dead as the chef over there," she indicated with a jerk of her chin. "So. Until I get back, or until he dies."

"You think he's gonna-"

"If you don't keep pressure on that wound damn straight he will. So what are you gonna do?"

"K-keep pressure on it?"

"Bingo. Not a total idiot. Just mostly."

"Please.... don't leave me with him," the bothan groaned.

She leaned over, patting his shoulder. "I'd feel the same way. But I gotta. I'd say you're in good hands, but I don't make a habit of lying."

She didn't know which of them groaned louder at that, as she was already turning away. It wasn't personal. But she couldn't hold his hand and do anything to help him. Slowing the bleeding would only do so much. She didn't know what was going on, who had attacked the ship, or even if any of them were getting off of it alive.

One problem at a time.

Absently she wiped the bothan's blood on her pants, and set off.

 

[Boluc Laar]

He'd been in the Outer Rim for some months now searching for what he was seeking. During that time he had come by many spacers with different occupations: mercenaries, smugglers, bounty hunters, pirates, and others that did whatever it took to survive in these lawless parts of the Galaxy. But through all that chaos and scum, there was a group of individuals that helped one another and tried to establish some sense of justice and security for those defenseless against marauders. No concrete government like a Republic or a Confederacy for this unique coalition of people.

The Yoso didn't bother to join their ranks as he did not find any common mission with these spacer, but here and then he would do some jobs for them to get some credits. It also helped with getting information from worlds and societies he was unfamiliar with which helped. But whatever information he could get on the Vahla was deeply treasured. Some knew bits from them, where large populations could potentially be located. Most of it was the same thing he heard from many other strangers he encountered with. Like a broken record on repeat.

Right now he agreed to help with some spacers to locate and rescue any stranding refugees.

"What was your name again?"

"Never said it," Aulkren replied back firmly.

"Be nice if you did - oh hold up, we got a distress signal."

The crew and pilots then reacted with Aulkren walking around idly. He didn't know how things function around here and thought it best to not involve himself. The corvette would then hit the throttle in the direction of the distressed vessel. More reinforcements would help out if needed. More hands were welcomed.

[member="Nida Perl"]​

 

[Zef Halo]

Astral Astoria

How does a dar'manda pirate end up with no armor and no weapons on a civilian liner suddenly breached and assaulted from within by a group of terrorists?

Don't ask.

Alarms blared as Rohak shoved panicking passengers from his way as he headed towards the bridge of the liner. The corridors of the ship were packed with fleeing to nowhere exactly civilians which the dar'manda either pushed away aggressively or evaded him like the plague.

Just like a Lepi out of its hole a cultist looking terrorist popped out of nowhere with a vibrodagger in hand. The blade found itself straight in the chest of an innocent rodian. Before the blade could backtrack for an attempt on Rohak, the dar'manda hoofed the cultist sending him flying with his back straight at a one-eyed lady coming round the corner.

The terrorist vengefully reached for his concealed blaster pistol with eyes eager to send Rohak to the afterlife.

[member="Rian Taske"]

 

[Rayf Vigil]

"I know, R9. I know," Rayf shouted down his astromech's panicked wails, "There's not a lot we can do about it right now."

His TR-20 had seen better days. It was one of the last in the squadron, they weren't getting any replacements anytime soon and life out here in the rim wasn't kind on maintenance. Commander Vigil knew her days were numbered, but the Corellian ace didn't know what he was going to do without her. They had been flying together for so long that the ship had started to feel like a part of him. That was his curse, of course. He always came back in more or less one piece, and so it was left to Rayf to mourn the dead.

"Bandit just pulled into my killslot," he grunted over comms in frustration, craning his neck back to establish visual contact on the bogey, "Gonna try and lose em in the chop."

Rayf plunged himself into a steep dive, dipping down into a dense accretion of nebulaic gases. Outside his canopy he barely caught a glimpse of the las blasts streaking past his X-Wing's fuselage, turning everything luminescent the same as seeing lightning from inside a thundercloud. The Old Man broke off into a series of evasive maneuvers, and after picking up a few G's eventually the cannon fire stopped. His relief was short lived however, one glance at his sensors was all it took for him to realize that he had miscalculated in veering off the beaten path.

"Rogue Two, this is Lead. I've lost you," Rayf winced at the feedback coming through his headset. Communications were inoperative as well, this just kept getting better all the time, "Alright, R9. Now I think it might be time to panic."

[member="Cuan Kunn"] | [member="Frielle Kinniak"]​

 

[Zak Amroth]

Zak kicked the ventilation grate open, hand cannon trained on the the cultist crouching behind a row of seats directly across from him. The paddle beam stun blast sent him slamming into the viewport, unconscious before he realized what hit him. He pivoted as best he could from inside the cramped shaft to fire on the second hijacker visible from his new position. His stun blasts went wide, the awkwardness of his positioning throwing his aim off. A las bolt streaked past his head, splashing off the inner hull behind him. It would prove costly for the cultist however, she had taken a step forward to fire and in so doing opened herself up to the security officer still in cover near the bridge.

There was one more attacker that he knew of, but from the Deputy's current vantage point he saw no sign of them. Taking a deep breath to steel himself, he rolled out of the vent and into the open, narrowly avoiding a las bolt meant to cut him down the moment he started to crawl out. Springing to his feet, Zak activated the burnt orange blade of his father's lightsaber and neatly removed the offender's arm at its elbow. The cultist screamed in horrified agony.

Zak screamed right back, and punched him in the face.

"Clear!" he called back up to his partner of circumstance, after making sure there weren't anymore lurking within the forward cabin, "You stay here and guard the bridge, I'm gonna try and lock down the rest of this deck."

"You're some kinda Jedi!" the security officer cried out, gaping at the lightsaber in his hand.

Amroth waggled his hand in the universal symbol for 'kind of', and stepped through a set of sliced open bulkhead doors into uncharted territory.

[member="Kalen Genet"] | [member="Griet van Vliet"] | [member="Rian Taske"] | [member="Rohak Vizsla"]​

 

[Griet van Vliet]

Objective: 3
Allies: ORC

Are there carbonite grenades somewhere? Some vendor that sold them onboard? There better be bounties posted on Black Rose-affiliated outlaws that wanted those outlaws alive, Griet thought, while pondering how long the seizure-induced effects would last, which also meant she had that long to get carbonite grenades and have them thrown at them. But she knew that liners traveling through this region routinely sold exotic weapons on duty-free. She could always use Neural Storm on other Black Rose grunts on her way to the vendor that sold carbonite grenades, and that would mean buying extra carbonite grenades as well. For this reason, she cast Neural Storm on them, provoking rather severe seizures that caused their brains to go haywire and froze them in place for the most part. Also, when she arrived at the closest weapons vendor, most of the people were making hasty shopping. They were buying a wide variety of weapons ranging from a tensor pistol to an Umbaran EM plasma minigun, and checked out as soon as the weapon came off the shelf. When it was Griet's turn:

"What can I do for you?" the vendor asked Griet.

"I'll deliver those Black Rose gangsters to justice, if only I could buy a bandolier with 40mm carbonite grenades affixed to them!" Griet told the vendor, in a somewhat whiny tone of voice.

"I saw some of those gangsters get seizures around here, but what's going on here? Why are they even getting seizures?"

"I'm not your ordinary bounty hunter; I'm a Jedi! How much for the bandolier of carbonite grenades? I'll pay right now"

 

[Delila Castillon]

[member="Xin Boa"] | Objective : Refugee Adventure


Always when I have a fresh cup of caf...


Dark shapes revealed themselves as enemy ships easily - no friendly would come out of no where without a hail. Not in such a trying environment. Another snag in the plan to move a column of refugees out of a dangerous area. Eyes quickly darted to Xin - he wouldn't admit it but she knew him well enough to know being responsible for so many others wasn't his thing. Too many variables.


There was a squeeze of his shoulder followed by a quick kiss on the cheek. Down the corridor were the guns but she did have to get around some of their refugee cargo, taking a narrow ladder straight down. She hadn't been in a gunner position in awhile but the objective seemed the same - hold off impossibly large ships so they can skirt away.

Easy.


"Ready when you are Captain, I'm sure they've notice us."


Words had barely left her mouth when the Dahlia was rocked by a particularly large turboblast. They had definitely been spotted.

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Rohak Vizsla"] | [member="Rian Taske"]

The vengeful terrorist's eyes suddenly rolled back.

Then he slumped to the ground.

Next to him was one hungover bleary-looking old-timer with a pipe. A pipe that was now several inches more bend than before. "I karking hate cultists." He grunted, before spitting on the limp body and then he went straight towards the looting. The chitty vibro-knife was almost immediately discarded. One-use thing, these guys were amateurs. The hold-out blaster was shoved over the ground towards the weaponless dude.

A glance up.

"Y'know, kid, I am usually good with the whole 'running around like a headless nuna, bouncing into everyone while trying to flee'-chit, but ya really bad at it, 'lek?" A flask flashed into existence. Sip taken. Flashed straight out of existence again. "You, hot stuff," Aimed at the woman behind him. "Ya seem like someone with a head. Y'know why I woke up with four black-robed fethers trying to sacrifice me or some chit in mah own bed?" A beat.

"Fuggitabout it, gonna go see if the captain is still alive or some chit."

Then he turned around to walk out again.

Oh, right, Daro Tarsi was in a bathrobe.

 

[Janick Beauchamp]

Objective: Pirates
Allies: ORC [member="Rayf Vigil"] [member="Frielle Kinniak"] [member="Cuan Kunn"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Banshee"]

"What's happening?" Wololo asked, before detecting a Sith supercarrier in the system.

"I just... got... some painful flashbacks"

"Bogey dropships on our eleven" T-account reported back.

There were several reasons why Janick could scream poodoo, the first of which being the mothership from which the enemy fighters were being launched. Is this retribution for Shusugaunt? she thought, upon detecting a Black Rose carrier. But there were also the headaches generated by this unending stream of flashbacks, mostly centered around her impersonation of Venefica and the flurry of photocopier malfunctions that ensued afterward. All of these made her flying all the more erratic. Yet she had to be really angry at these flashbacks before she could even make any move whatsoever against the hostiles. It had to be the Black Rose: the transponders were identifying the hostiles as Black Rose fighters. But the hard part was getting close enough to the enemy to fire at them. Didn't matter which craft one was flying, the Shusugaunt Ghost Janick herself flew, or the Lyulkas her wingmen flew, locking on to an enemy was the easy part. The hard part was closing in close enough and avoid being hit.

"Take out these enemies, on the double!" Janick screamed, as if letting loose some anger, and then lurching forward but still some distance away for now.

 

[Rian Taske]

The Astral Astoria​

[member="Rohak Vizsla"] [member="Daro Tarsi"]​

Rian had been keeping to the edges of the corridors. Mostly avoiding people where she could. But it became obvious very quickly that the way back to her cabin was blocked off and unless she wanted to get into a bout of fisticuffs with a half dozen arseholes that was not about to happen. So she'd detoured, heading instead toward the front of the ship. Subconscious habit meant she had taken note of the first aid stations and where to find them, and now she made a bee line to the next closest one.

Rounding a corner, there was only a split second to register just what was happening before

WHUMP

Catching a lanky haired someone barreling too fast down the hallway toward her. She barely kept her feet with the impact, her arms ending up around the man.

"Look I'm flattered and all, but I just don't know you well enough for this chit."

WHANG

The pipe came down just an inch from her nose and Rian blinked in surprise. Lowering the (now unconscious) man to the floor, she knelt, pulling out a penlight. Two fingers pushed his eyelids open and then passed the light across. It was almost reflexive, and it was only after she'd checked that she realized this was one of the morons that had karked up this trip so badly.

"Oh, well, enjoy the brain swelling," she muttered, then looked up at the other two men she shared the otherwise (momentarily) empty hallway with.

"Well I'd assume it was cause the alternative was waking you with a kiss, and have you looked in the mirror lately?"

Totally deadpan.

"You two passengers too then?" She tucked the light away again and stood up. "No one's bleeding right? I'm obligated to ask but if you tell me no, that'd be great. It'd also be great if anyone knew what the kark was going on here."

 

[Xin Boa]

"Brak, I'm going to need some more power to the rear deflector," Xin called into his headset.

"If you had..." the large barabel mechanic's voice came back over the internal coms. His tongue was designed for hunting by scent rather than forming vowels and Xin always had to concentrate when listening. Yes, he probably should have had him install the new power oscillators, but there were a lot of jobs to do and a lot of refugees in the way.

"Not the time," he replied. He pinged out a distress signal and managed to cut through the jamming signal for a few seconds before rerouting that power to engines.

His edged the lever forwards and the Dahlia's engines flared brightly. The ship arced towards the the wall where the Nebula has became opaque, streams of it billowed in his wake and offered meagre cover. Red laser bolts lanced past the vessel and several demands for surrender came over and open channel.

Four old fashioned headhunters chased them with little organisation. They jostled for position to get a clean shot.

"Dells, try and put a dent in that lead fighter's nose!"

 

[Zef Halo]

For a cold-blooded pirate, the appearance of a man in a bathrobe nonchalantly knocking out cold a cultist with a pipe, yes, a pipe, Rohak surely remained shocked for just a moment to assimilate what had just gone.

Not unlike the one-eyed chick.

When the hold out blaster slid towards him, the dar’manda naturally took it. Small, short-ranged but better than nothing.

"No one's bleeding right? I'm obligated to ask but if you tell me no, that'd be great. It'd also be great if anyone knew what the kark was going on here."

He glanced at the lady and found her rather attractive. There was something charming to her lack of an eye orb that reminded him of an ex. This one, though, had none of the evil and murderous aura surrounding her.

"Fuggitabout it, gonna go see if the captain is still alive or some chit."

And with that the Hugh Hefner of the Astral Astoria was off. The dar’manda’s mind teaming up with his natural avarice quickly came up with an action plan.

Old man - knows his chit, beats up cultists with a pipe, looks like a criminal wanted around a dozen systems. Rohak - knows around commandeering ships. Astral Astoria - vulnerable and rich. Obstacles - the cultists.

Time to get the business.

And the one-eyed girl? Uh.

“Let’s go.” He grabbed her by the wrist rather typical for his behavior as he hurried down to follow the Bathrobe Elder. “Ain’t no time for a captain, old man, if you’re looking to make a quick buck - this is your chance. Getting us a brand new ship for sale.”

“The bridge should be on the upper deck.”

[member="Rian Taske"] [member="Daro Tarsi"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Rohak Vizsla"] | [member="Rian Taske"]

"I dunno, lass, ya jus' stabbed me in da heart. So ya tell me if it be bleeding." He drawled lazily over his shoulder.

The bathrobe kept walking though.

It didn't really seem like it wanted or needed any company. Every once in a while pausing somewhere, rolling over a body with a foot, crawling through their pockets if necessary. Whistling a bit with it. Every once in a while there would be an oooo, pocketing it with no worry. Rohak (and presumably Rian) caught up with the Elder at the end of the hallway. Where Daro blinked owlishly at the unarmored man. He paused there, taking another swig from the flask that disappeared just as quickly as it appeared.

Processing what the lad had just said.

"Ya want to jack this piece of chit?" He glanced around. Noting the plasma holes and more. Thinking a bit more. Then shrugging. "Sure, why not. You in, hot stuff?" Drawled at the one-eyed beauty, while he started to rummage with the console that he had been standing next to.

A quick pop.

The casing dropped to the ground and deft fingers started to manipulate the crystals inside. They weren't marked, but that didn't seem to stop Daro. At some point he started touching some of the shards with a piece of metal he picked up from the ground. For a moment nothing happened. Then. Beep. Suddenly the door swished open for them. On the other side was the emergency maintenance ladder. A grin towards them, "Ya know how it be, they lock the elevators first, y'know."

Then he gestured towards Rohak.

"Am too old to get shot at, so ya go first, greedy young buck."

It amused him that this lad was so eager to immediately steal this ship. First moment of trouble.

Boy to his heart.

 

[Rian Taske]

The Astral Astoria​

[member="Rohak Vizsla"] [member="Daro Tarsi"]​

"Gonna take those both as no's' then. Do you even have blood or are you running on pure ethanol- hey!"

She'd gotten a wiff right before the other one grabbed her by the wrist and started dragging her along. As it happened she was heading in that direction anyway, which was about the only reason she didn't clock him right there. Instead she twisted her wrist out of his hand with more force than was strictly necessary.

"How come no one tries flowers and chit anymore? We harkening back to Mandalore here?" A joke, not realizing it was entirely accurate in this case.

Pulling up to a stop when they caught back up with the smelly bathrobe, she was rapidly considering her options.

Eye cast back and forth between the pair, hands going up a moment later.

"Ya'all are serious. Look, I got a bothan bleeding out and crying in a zabrak's lap back in the mess, and they didn't even arrange that in advance, so I got work to do. Just.... do me a favor and if you steal it, don't.... I dunno, vent the atmosphere to get rid of the rest of the passengers. That would be a chit way to end this weekend you have no idea."

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Objective: Search and rescue

Carbon monoxide poisoning was all too common among the patients brought to the hosital ship, but most of the patients affected by such things, and other respiratory problems were treated for the respiratory problems first, for which she knew that NFU treatments were just fine, and then came other stuff, such as internal hemorrages that sometimes accompanied fractures. There was no going around the fact that complications could arise but once the carbon monoxide poisoning was taken care of, Cathul would then have the patient undergo general anaesthesia, have casts on standby, and, of course, immobilize the broken bones. Of course, the one thing I knew that beginners in Force-healing often overlooked was that the use of the Force did not excuse the need for precautions, and especially not here, where the risk of inducing cancers is very real, she thought, while the patient was fast asleep and was being grown back some blood vessels around the broken bone, and also the broken bone itself. Yet she knew that the Force portion was far from the end of the story with any given patient.

 

[Cuan Kunn]

The Sullustan had made a bit of a mistake, it seemed. He was flying one of the new X-Wings and it had been a while since h had been in a sortie of any kind. Seemed like it showed, as he was chasing the engines of an enemy and needing to keep an eye on his wing. Moving to get a clear shot of one of the fighters, he heard the call from Rogue Leader. The fact that the Rogues were doing what they could out here spoke volumes, but they were desperately in need of some new supplies.

Maybe the other Alliance fleets would be able to make a deal, the ones that went more coreward and help the Rogues, and the rest of the Outer Rim fleets. He heard the Leader breaking off and diving into the soup.

Blast. Cuan fired the killshot on the fighter in front of him, and dumped his fighter’s speed down, yanking back on the yolk and sending his ship into a pattern that put him towards the last known location of Rogue Leader.

“Flaps to Old Man. Come in.” The Astromech beeped in response, that there was some static in the way. The Sullustan shook his head. “Rogues, continue on mission. Therapy Command can you send someone over to my location?”

[member="Rayf Vigil"]
[member="Cathul Thuku"]
[member="Frielle Kinniak"]

 

[Frielle Kinniak]

Briar Nebula

---

---

---

"Your funeral Rogue," Wraith-3 returned as she manuvered her X-wing, she made visual contact with a bogey, "this is Wraith-3 to all Alliance and Coalition fighters, got a lock on target." Her finger hovered over the trigger a moment as she followed the target, squeezing on it she watched the green las blast forward it struck the target with ease. Frielle's target was turning and so she banked to follow and then her radar screamed, "ah varpin' void!" She cursed seeing another bogey on radar and heading in right behind her. This forced Frielle to bank opposite of her target rolling out to shake her guy loose it was then she caught sight of one of the Rogues.

She narrowed her gaze a moment to try and figure out his number, "Rogue-2, Wraith-3 how's about we play a little game of Rontho Ride? See if we can't get our friends to play hide and go feth themselves." Her astromech whirred he didn't agree with it, it was too risky but at this point risk was the name of the game. There wasn't much else she could do other than that - and maybe keep track of her original target she tagged the fighter once and hoped to tag him again once she shook this one loose from her tail.

[member="Rayf Vigil"] | [member="Cuan Kunn"]

 

[Darth Banshee]

Objective: Take and capture the Slaves
Enemies: [member="Janick Beauchamp"]
Allies:

Spoiler

SURPRISE!

The refugee convoy had finally come into sight, it was time launch her attack. Her carrier would remain clocked for the entire attack, as it was not designed to face other ships, though could repel fighters and bombers. Her droids where already loaded, her personal bodyguards followed her onto the dropship, the rest where on a few couple others. As the last of them boarded, the doors began shut. Then the rock ivory hangar bay then was powered up, and ships began to float.The durasteel cable catapulted the ship into space, this was so no engines scorch marks would show, to give away what is happening.

Her ships moved slowly, but surely towards the lead ship. This ship carried the most of the refugees, though other ships where targeting other ships in the convoy. These people where about to come her property, and serve the sith empire. Her ship landed with a thud on the, near the command deck. The ship had to decloak, as power had to be diverted to use the plasma cutter. They began to cut into the ship, the plan was simple, take over the ship, and use its hyperdrive to jump out of the system.

As it declocked, so did her Elite fighters, they dived into the rear of the enemy fighter formations, there job was to ambush and destroy as much of the escort as possible.

 

[Janick Beauchamp]

Objective: Pirates
Allies: ORC
Enemies: [member="Darth Banshee"]

"I'm hit!" a pilot shouted before uttering his final words. "Enemies decloaking on our six!" His craft then exploded, with shrapnel projecting to the enemy craft behind him.

"Evasive action!" she ordered while the first casualties from this ambush were being felt.

Here this degenerated into a furball fight where Janick and interceptor pilots began looping in an attempt to fire at those elite fighters that suddenly decloaked on their aft quarter. Horizontally or vertically, albeit what one could achieve on the counterattack would be quite different depending on how one looped in an attempt to evade them. Sure, if this was even feasible, they could still fire at dropships and whatnot, Sith or Black Rose. But the Black Rose engaged both the ORC and the Sith that just arrived, so this was turning into a three-way, free-for-all, furball battle. It was now time to show both dark-sided parties that the ORC could still defend its space! she thought, while covering for her wingmen that fired at the first wave of Sith dropships. It became clear that the Black Rose not only wanted its slice of the refugee convoy, but also they were willing to fight Sith for it. As she completed her loop, it was on her now to fire at the engines of an enemy elite fighter that was harassing another element that was firing at the Sith dropships. But, if there was some silver lining for the ORC it was that the Black Rose was stretched a little thin between the Rogues and her own units.

 

[Zak Amroth]

Of all the sights Zak had been expecting to see when he kicked open the emergency access hatch to the lower decks, an old man half covered in a bathrobe was just about the last on his list.

It took him a few moments to remember that he was pointing a large gun down the ladder. With a polite flick of his wrist, the half-Kiffar motioned for this unexpected stranger to kindly move back a few paces. He leapt down to the next deck, catlike reflexes enhanced by the Force allowing him to absorb the impact with little discomfort. Glancing around he noticed two other passengers in sight, either some kind of mercenary team or a married couple, he wasn't sure which.

"Deputy Amroth, I'm here to rescue you," Zak flashed a dynamite smile, as if he expected this simple introduction to transform their perception of him as anything other than just another wild eyed spacer with a blaster, "Do not fear, uh...citizens! The bridge is under control. Out of curiosity, not that its important or anything. But do any of you happen to know the way to the reactor room?"

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. The Astoria was anything but secure, and he didn't know a thing about passenger liners. All he had to go on once he left the upper decks was to keep heading down. Its what he deserved for being too prideful to ask the security officer for directions, now here he was looking for pointers from the first group of civilians...Zak looked around. For the first time, he noticed all the bodies. They were cultists!

"Say, did you guys see who did this?" he asked, scratching his head in confusion, "Cause I didn't see anybody on the way down, and there's no chance someone could have snuck by. Unless...these aren't really cultists at all. Alright, everybody freeze! Thought you could pull one over on me with these disguises, huh? Well Deputy Amroth's too smart for the Black Rose!"

[member="Rohak Vizsla"] | [member="Daro Tarsi"] | [member="Rian Taske"]​