[Episode Three] Defile

Status
Not open for further replies.
Airlock

One may find it difficult to ignore the presence of chaos entombed in a living prison of flesh and blood, but this was a rare case where Romulus could EASILY ignore Juryrig. Like, suspiciously easy.

For, in actuality... JURYRIG ISN'T THERE! Without a peep or a cackle or a whisper, the bi-minded entity had gone off to track the creature that had produced that gas. With Juryrig in the metaphorical backseat, Tom was guided into the darkness, with the intention to find whatever was staring holes into Romulus and Nivara.

The two are happy they're wearing this suit; while they can incorporate the creatures bodily fluids into themself, it's not like Juryrig or Tom can see through layers of warped biological matter made of things that any normal man can handle, either. Them being sprayed in the eyes would've still blinded them, and that made wearing this suit all the more beneficial; especially since it comes with eye protection.

The smell won't be a issue, but only Juryrig likes the smell of it... Tom's sheer will was the only thing stopping him from going into a retching fit, and he honestly would've liked to just vomit rather than try and keep himself together.

Now right now would be a good time to whip out a handy dandy device to track the creature, but the most Juryrig and Tom have is a wide-range thermal scanner, a outdated model jerry-rigged back into operation with the intent to track organic lifeforms. Juryrig considered going into Swarm instead, but the entity REALLY wanted to give Phase some nice, juicy test runs.
 
Lower Path

After extracting the laser diodes from the mining rig and concluding that the oil spill's damage had already been done, Keith rolled his shoulders for a bit to massage away the tension in his muscles, and wiped off his now oil-slick hands on his travel poncho. Sure, it certainly wouldn't be fashionable wearing around what had now been made into an impromptu towel, but the ex-sergeant was a practical man. Nothing that doing some laundry couldn't solve; maybe he'd even take the time to get the holes in the fabric patched up, too.

Not one to stay still without finding some work to do, the informant proceeded to follow the river downstream in a prompt manner, approaching the remaining maintenance shack between him and and the glass dam to investigate. It was at about the same time a loud explosion echoed off from the upper path, followed shortly by the crash of a counterweight against the ground nearby. Keith sighed—what a truly haphazard crew that Dahlia had gathered.
 
Upper Path - Bridge

The Overseer pulled their hand away from the bridge supports, eyeing the metallic dust caught between her fingers passively. The light staff thrown against her rolled off without a passing glance, hitting the ground with a bounce. The hefty lightbulb was, however, fully intact.

The Overseer turned about with their own findings, only to find the small pilot by her side. "Kerolyne is a rare development. No one's certain where or how the Arcadian's obtained the mass required for their ballistics." OSC-01 paused for a moment, taking a bit of time to recall any onboard information on it. "The New Nepherian Order once staged a raid on a powder mine during the War... They brought back much, but the mine was destroyed in the process. A total loss for the Arcadians."

The Overseer fell quiet once more, looking down at the metallic coating once more. Something was off.

---

The crew investigating the shipping platform made their way down the slope to find the metal platform bolted to the wall via heavy concrete and metal supports. The catwalks that once spanned from the platform to other locations were degraded and dangerous- but still an option. A single fire escape shaft lead to the cavern floor, though anyone trying to use it had better take gloves. The entire place appeared to be constructed in a rather... ad-hoc fashion. The tunnels themselves seemed sound to this day, but everything else appeared to be thrown together without a long-term safety plan. Even the spanning bridges appeared to have structural issues, some sagging and cracking near the middle.

There were two large containers of interest, as well as several barrels. One barrel laid busted underneath a fallen rock, it's contents long spilled and leaked away. A closer inspection around the seams of the barrel reveled a thick coagulated gunk of black material- some variety of crude oil.

The first of the two containers was held in place by a keyed padlock. Given the variable moral compass of the crew, it was an incredibly easy break-in.
Inside of the container was some kind of mining equipment, fastened in place by blaze orange straps. Among the wealth of equipment were picks, jackhammers, and other small equipment. One item of particular interest was some kind of large, two-handed piece of equipment. It was held much like a Gatling gun, though it held an appearance much like that of some kind of cannon. It was wide, bulky, with a stubby barrel holding a blender-like apparatus within it. It was unclear what purpose the equipment held, but what was clear was how heavy it was. It was meant to be held by one person, but none of the crew held the strength to hoist the equipment more than a few moments.

The next container in line was much heavier, well armored. There was no padlock on this one, but rather a heavy metal door held firmly in place by heavy locking lugs. The only signs of an input was a dead series of lights on the side panel near the front, and a pair of incredibly complicated keyways. The side of the box was labeled with bold-lettered Arcadian text in white and yellow. After a moment, the delayed translation came through from the Overseer. "VEX IV"


---

Dahlia took a lean against the bridge's support structure, holding her radio and ear out into the open cavern for the best reception. Even then, it took a minute to process the static-laden speech.

"Call-sign Dahgan, this is Vigil One. Do you read?"

"Ever day, Vigil One," the Captain replied somewhat sarcastically, "This is Dahgan."

"Your ships last projected signals were from the Trayll system. Correct?" "Correct, though we're fi-"

"Then you're near the Enpala sector. How quickly can you pack up for an investigation?"

Dahlia paused for a moment, the interruption catching her with a bit of wide-eyed surprise. The captain glanced at her surroundings, then replied. "Not anytime soon. We're hundreds of meters underground here. What's the situation?"

The voice on the communicator replied, coming in and out of signal. "Shipping freighter Vespar II was last reported passing through the Enpala sector en route to the capital of Tropinello Prime. They experienced an act of aggression from an unknown ship. Their last transmitting was an open call for landing on a nearby planetoid, but we haven't heard anything back. We need someone to run an investigation and possible asset recovery job, and you're our closest cargo-class ship."

Dahlia turned pale- moreso than usual. She knew who captained the Vespar II. After a moment choking on air, she captain solemnly replied. "I'm sorry Vigil One, but we're in a little too deep of a find to pack up in time."

Vigil One responded after a moment. "Understood. We're rerouting the nearest interceptor-class to catch up for recon. If we do need recovery, you may still be on short call."

Dahlia sighed. "Understood. Dahgan out."


And so the captain returned to the crew, her mood soured by the news. The captain took a careful step on the bridge, and then another- checking for structural integrity. Once reassured, she started walking along the pathway, gazing out at the statue in the distance, anything to take her mind off the call.


Maintenance Shack A

After intense deliberation, the two in the shack decided that no one was around to scold them for investigating the lockers. In fact, it wasn't even much of a trial. The semi-solid of echyllis lazily bobbing around the small demi-alien had found itself wedged in the side crack of the lockbox. After a few moments and a spark, the door popped open. A small substance alarm flickered from the inside of the locker door, coming from a battery powered speaker. It wasn't very loud, and sounded on the verge of death.

On the inside panel of the locker was a list of warnings placed in black Arcadian text over a red background. The translation didn't come in for a while, but it eventually revealed a broken translation. "NO LIVE ECHYLLIS STORAGE." Alcohol was also prohibited.

Inside the locker was a bundle of laminated paper tubes, held together by heavy velcro. A small bag also laid in the bottom of the locker, filled with a variety of metal hand tools that didn't quite fit right in either of the adventurers hands.

Lower Path

Keith had to climb a bit to get to the next shack. It was elevated off the ground more than its partner, but a bit of tricky positioning allowed him to get up to the platform. The door to this shack was however locked, and the lack of windows proved to be a more secure challenge.

An investigation around the platform yielded a few options. The shack sat rather snug against the cavern wall, but in its age had pulled away. Keith could see a crevace that ran back behind the building, leading to some kind of connecting hall between the building and.... whatever was inside the wall. The floor panels beneath the building were sealed up right, but the metal roof could still prove weak.


Upper Path - Plateau

The giant metal door in front of Reman was painted with white Arcadian script, but the letters had become too faded to be translated. The heavy metal door wasn't willing to budge, but with all his might it began to shift. Pressing between the two sides of the seal, the door eventually began to slide on its ratcheted tracks. Two or three heavy clicks echoed throughout the cavern before the door stopped, unable to move any farther. It was a tight gap, but enough for Reman to slide through it with ease.

Inside of the door was a very dark room, filled with all variety of chairs, desks, and consoles, A set of large, thick glass panels sat at the end of the octagonal room, long since dead. There were all manners of desks and input equipment about the room, but the lack of power made the consoles currently useless. A large vent sat above the room, one that had a certain stink emanating from it...


The Hunt

Juryrig looked down at his scanner, tracking the creatures path about the Defile. The man looked up from the device, looking into the dark conduit the beast ran off into from his position hanging from the wiring running across the top of the cavern. Wait, how did...


Just, nevermind.
Juryrig leapt from the cables into the open plastic tube, which provided just enough space to move around in at a crouch. The wires and cables of the conduit had been torn and strewn about, with a pile of organic much resting in the ribbed floor. He was now hot on the tail of the beast, moving about the darkened conduit with nothing but a mission, the items on his person, and a tracker. The conduit was a little too narrow to bring his full sack of goodies with him.


???

Farther down the cavern, close to the imposing statue, two figures emerged upon a bridge. The dragon and the crystalline woman. The leader of the two placed their deformed hand above their unequal eyes, staring out into the cavern to find the source of the ruckus. She brought down an orange lens over her good eye, magnifying the distant circus that was now parading through their work site.

The woman let out an annoyed groan, pulling out a communicator. "Plague Doctor to Captain. Did you send company?" There was an annoyed, strained tone to her words.

"Captain to Plague Doc, that's a hard no," affirmed the rather casual voice from the other end.

"Then you may need to see this." 'Plague Doc' Raised a gloved finger to the device mounted to the side of their looking lens sending a picture of the distant troupe to whoever was at the end of the line.

"Shoot." "Which one?"

"Figure of speech, purps. Just try and, run them off. I'll see what I can do from here."

The woman scowled, glancing about. She looked back at the dragon behind them. The spoke rashly, tapping the communicator on her ear to mimmick where his should be. "We have visitors. Make them go away, or at least find out why they're here. "
 
???

The dragon looked to its handler with an annoyed chuff of noise, but otherwise obeyed. It crouched low and extended its bat-like wings to their full twenty foot span. It was getting pretty fed-up with being treated like a fool, especially by a human who spent their days digging through boxes in tunnels, possibly the most foolish pursuit it had ever witnessed.

Thy will be done.

And with that, it took off into the cavern in a rush of hurricane-force wind and noise, kicking up a cloud of choking dust at the take off point. It was a total accident, of course, a byproduct of its enormous size and strength, but a byproduct it wouldn't be apologizing for.

Cavern

A roaring like that of a starship filled the air and echoed mercilessly off the stone walls of the defile, created by the wind being brutally shoved aside by massive wings. Any who were within view of the ominous statue would be able to see the humongous, black, winged form rushing up from its base and effortlessly gliding into the open space above. It was vaguely humanoid, with a serpentine tail and a reptilian snout. The dragon soared to the highest point in the cavern and began drifting in lazy circles like its more fantastical counterpart would a medieval village, trying to figure out which peasant would be eaten first.

It chose a target and swooped down.

Lower Path

It was simple logic. If the box lady wanted the other humans away from the statue, it made sense to first see to the ones closest to the statue.

And that's why the ten foot tall dragon came diving down towards Keith's platform like a bird of prey. It beat its wings hard at the last moment and came to a relatively soft landing on the platform, where it perched on the edge with its wings and tail hanging off the side. Then, it did... nothing. For a good, long minute it just sat there, regarding the informant with keen, blue reptilian eyes that danced and glowed with fire. It craned its neck forward and sniffed a few times. Yes, this was definitely one of the scents it had picked up earlier. The dragon cataloged that for later. The other scents were farther away, therefore not an immediate threat.

The dragon lowered its head to eye level with the human, not making any overt signs of aggression. After all, he'd just been asked to either make them leave or find out why they too wanted to look through boxes. A strange sensation began to fill Keith. It was a flood of emotions, ideas, and snippets of thought that were clearly not his. They didn't seem aggressive, but Keith was suddenly graced with the knowledge that the beast in front of him was hungry for pork chops.

Hello, I am Glasawyr. The box lady says that you and your pack must leave.

There were no words, not even telepathically. Keith's mind had simply taken the flood of input and formulated it into a coherent thought all on its own. The dragon's name was Glasawyr, and a "box lady" had ordered him to ask the Downrider crew to leave. What would happen if they didn't? Well, the huge lizard looked, for lack of better term, bored. If the level of drama crossed Glas' ever-shortening threshold, the dragon would probably just leave, honestly. He was a being of the sky trapped in a dark hole. He was also hungry.

Do you have pork chops?
 
Shack A

Rhea supposed, this wasn't so bad. The tools... maybe they were made to work with some of the gear in this place? And as for the keys she still had, if the utility key worked with anything else, fabulous! She also learend something new today: some arcadian tech REALLY doesn't seem to like echyllis. How handy!

She gave a nod to the ever more dense blod of echyllis that she was keeping around her person... but not too close- the other one having proven to be... less than useful, or long lasting in any way. Figured that trying to make something that evaporates when it leaves a short distance from you would disappear if you tried to thin it out even more! She did wonder how fast she'd beable to compress these echyllis nuggest in the future, though. It would sure help with that problem of reach at least!

As she collected the bag of tools, put the keys within them, and was working on the laminated tubes- figureing any and all information would be helpful to the captain at this point if it was brought to her without it exploding, she heard the mother of all roars.

"Uh... Was that the sound of the power coming back on?" She briefly looked to see if the fox lad had touched the power, before going to peek her head out of the window... Well, that didn't look good.

Lower Path

Looking signifigantly paler, she quickly grabbed the bundle of laminated paper, skirted around the ruined roof that was currently all over the floor, and nearly skid her way out of the front door, staring at the massive, shadowy figure. "... That's... a dragon, isn't it?" As terrifying as that was- it was also really, really cool. And keith looked like he needed help! So, mustering up her courage, she very quickly maneuvered her way over towards the area where, previously chaos an anarchy reigned, only an ominious silence seemed to remain.

Just incase it decided she seemed like a tasty snack, she kept the bobbing crystal of semihardened echyllis infront of her, and was completely ready to unleash her much more regular echyllis if needed. Infact, she decided to go ahead and do that- echyllis springing up under her feet as she ran and navigated towards keith, bounding across the landscape much faster than she had ever. She wasn't sure if she was more afraid of how fast she felt like she was going, or the dragon, at this stage.
 
Lower Path
Holy Fucking Shit It's A---Wait, what?

Military academy had not prepared him for this. Nothing had.

After arriving at the maintenance shack and finishing his climb up, Keith had assessed that the easiest way to get inside would be to take advantage of the decaying architecture. Rearing up to kick down the door, aiming for its rusted hinges, the ex-soldier was nearly knocked off-balance when a flying lizard, twice his own size, landed on the selfsame platform he stood on. That wouldn't have been a pretty fall.

Going back to standing on his own two feet, the informant turned his head to regard the dragon creature with stunned silence for what seemed like an eternity, before it finally decided to 'speak' to him. Glasawyr, the beast called itself, and apparently it had a superior—not that it seemed pleased about it. Slowly moving his left hand up to press two fingers against his ear, Keith broadcasted a high-priority radio signal to be picked up by all other crewmates in range—yes, even you, Juryrig.

"Sorry to interrupt your idle chat, but we've got a... well, I can't sugarcoat this. It's a dragon," he said over the radio, and then began to fish in his pockets for whatever food he had on him. As it turned out, Keith withdrew two sealed packages of military MREs; maybe they had pork chops in them? He really didn't know anymore after spending so much time eating dry nutrient bars. "It... doesn't appear to be hostile, but it does seem to want us to leave the Defile? And it's hungry for pork meat, to boot."

The ex-sergeant slid the two packages of field rations across the platform floor over to the hungry Glasawyr. It wasn't much for something of its size, and it definitely wouldn't be tasty, but it was whatever passed as edible to Keith.
 
Lower Path

Not just any meat. Chops. From the loins of a swine.


Glasawyr knew his cuts of meat, considering his diet consisted of 99% meat. Not to mention, he had a passion for the culinary arts, of all things. None the less, he reached down with a talon and sliced open the wrappers, then swallowed both ration packs whole, at the same time. Keith was right, it hadn't been tasty, but in nature, picky eaters died first. Picky eaters were stupid, and Glasawyr, despite outward appearances, was not stupid. At least the snack would keep the hunger pangs at bay until Glasawyr could find pork chops, or hunt down that slippery cave-dwelling creature that had disappeared into the vents. Blackened and served with garlic butter, he mused, would be the best way to serve it. He began salivating again.

Glasawyr decided to give the human pack time to decide their next move. He didn't really care if they refused to leave. Box-lady had said to either convince them to leave or find out why they were here. If he couldn't do the first, he would do the latter. The idiot should have worded her commands better. Glasawyr was in the middle of a fantasy involving the box-lady and a spike pit when he saw Rhea hurling towards them.

The dragon let out a concerned growl, and his eyes lit up with interest. The human pack had brought their cubs?! To a place as dangerous as this?! The humans' foolishness knew no bounds! Glasawyr thought it prudent to impart wisdom unto the cub, since it was apparently being given no supervision by its elder pack mates!

Hello, child. You should slow down, or you will fall and die, which would be a stupid way to die, yes? Do not die stupidly.

His words hadn't come out patronizingly or condescending. He was simply a more experienced animal who had survived for much longer, giving a less-experienced animal some crucial advice.

As Rhea neared, Glasawyr took time to inspect the cub. Much could be found out about a pack's health, stability, and overall competence by observing how its children were treated. For starters, the cub appeared well-fed. Good. Packs that could not feed their cubs died swiftly. No signs of physical injury, but any issues with the cub may have been internal. The reptile leaned forward and sniffed Rhea. The cub smelled healthy. No serious signs of illness. Though it did have traces of the box-lady's scent, created by the crystals in her skin. Did the child have the same ailment? Would she one day have the insatiable urge to dig through boxes as well?! Concerning. Glasawyr tilted his head to the side and regarded Rhea with a curious expression.

He couldn't tell for certain if this cub was representative of all of the other cubs. It may have been the odd one out. Further study required.
 
Last edited:
Upper Path - Collection of Arcadian Lootboxes

The person in question with a questionable moral compass was, in fact, Marie, as she held the sparking remains of the lock in her hand that she absolutely fried. She looked to her wizard friend. "...Well, I won't lie, it was a dirty solution. But it worked?"

Pickaxes, jackhammers, and some sort of...mining tool, maybe? Weapon? Likely operated using an exoskeleton or a power armor. If its purpose was mining, it would have been a tool used in conjunction with power armor, likely in unstable areas. In that case, it could be some form of matter restructuring device, turning risky areas just safe enough for people to lay down permanent supports. Or it could be some sort of laser drill, used to quickly dig through the rock of this area.

Reactive but not volatile. Right, it couldn't risk hitting kerolyne.

Then jackhammers would have been used to remove the kerolyne, likely. Or pickaxes. Or those were used to remove solid ores, and this was a liquid extraction device designed specifically to harvest kerolyne, which was the most probable conclusion -- after all, the typical mine used some sort of tunnel bore or other large machines to dig through large amounts of rock, and then the specialized tools built for ore extraction came in to pick up everything else that was left behind.

If it was a weapon, it would likely be used against...

Against what? The lizard-creature was not dangerous. In fact, it fled when it saw the crew. Outside intruders? Then there would be more weapons, probably even some sort of military ship. Wait, the military...

She opened a private line to the Overseer. "Have we scanned for SARCOM signals yet? It just occurred to me that if there's an old transmitter around here, it could be somewhat useful. Also, we have discovered some sort of device that I believe to be a kerolyne extractor and some sort of...locked box. It says 'VEX IV' on it. Traditional lock, too. Nothing electronic, so we might need someone to pick the lock open or find a key."

Or power it up. That was probably a better option. Luckily, typically lockboxes didn't use a very high amount of power, so Marie was confident in her own ability being able to power it. She tried to find her way into powering up the box, then working from there.

In her work, Marie almost didn't notice the dragon, only registering it was there when Keith had pointed it out.

"Sorry, what?" Marie asked, fumbling around in her pockets for her own 'weapon,' muttering curses that she didn't make some sort of holder for this thing, quickly writing down a few notes that Aradia could see read, 'Make some sort of key-holding mechanism that doesn't suck worse than pockets.' In the background noise of her transmission, Keith could hear the telltale sound of her driver being activated.

"Why the hell is a dragon here? What kind of dragon would voluntarily choose to live on a desert planet?" she asked again.
 
Upper Path - Plateau

Reman walked around the room, gazing at the carefully arranged glass and paneling before turning towards the abandoned consoles to observe their state of decay and under-use. After a brief sweep, with Reman bumping into a chair or two ahead, before finding his way back to the vents. From what he could see, there was wind flowing errantly from the vents.

After this, he made a mental note for his next plan of action. He would bead down a metal obelisk and hoist himself up towards the vents, however well that would go when he finished up. After all, if something's coming from it, there has to be activity somewhere in this abandoned mine. In the meantime, he looked for anything of value that wasn't nailed down and started grabbing anything he could bring back to the crew that even looked semi-valuable. After all, the scrap job wasn't truly over yet, was it?

--------------------
Airlock

A gigantic beast of a creature forced it's way through the airlock, and Romulus followed quickly after it, watching it's graceful descent from the upper path. If he had his gun, he would have followed the creature. It seemed like it knew their language, or at least something similar, the dulcet tones reverberating throughout the cavern. The former scientist waited before he made a move, eyeing the overseer and the captain before reaching into his pocket without taking his hand out of it. "Just who do you work for exactly?" The Artificer for a moment focused his gaze on the talons and wings of the creature, looking for a place to strike if need be, taking a defensive but restrained stance. His silence and posture were rightfully that of an experienced gunslinger about to make a draw if the clock strikes twelve.

"I am not of their 'pack', and I speak first with a warning. Any misplaced faith in Urane's way will not deliver you anything but suffering. If you do not know of him, than you have no qualms with me." The tone he took was one of similar aggression, but one more of understanding than outright ignorance.

Romulus waited for a response, unflinching and staring the beast in it's face. Beyond appearance, he could feel a certain kindred connection to a beast like this. Grand in wingspan but caught under the palm of the commoners. Nostalgic for the days of the hunt where it could be independent and truly earn it's keep among it's natural competitors. He also felt a strange connection in the Abspectral form connected to his host body, that of a creature of similar appearance and demeanor. Though he could not have seen it like Reman had, he could almost feel his specter's draconic form looming behind him.
 
THE HUNT CONTINUES

Tom is very concerned with how this whole thing's been developing.

Juryrig, though, isn't. FINALLY, a chance for him to feel the thrill of the relentless pursuit! He doesn't need a whole hefty bag for everything, per se, he has everything he needs right on him.

Some schematics, some writing utensils, some antiquated tools, Blunderbass, Juryrig can work with the whole bare minimum. He worked with less before!

"Oh beasty~ Where are you hiding from me? HehehehehEHAHAHAHA!"

Tom needs a adult right now.
 
Here be Dragons

Aradia has seen dragons before, sure. Actually, one visited her college once. Never actually managed to meet the guy, or was it a girl dragon, who really can tell anyways? But anyways - it was big, scaly, and could fly. Was actually kinda rad.

That was the college, though, not some underground gunpowder mine's corpse - something she gladly elaborated to the bleached scientist. "More along the lines of why would a dragon voluntarily spend time in a place this far underground? A cave is one thing, but how the hell would he get in or out? Frankly, Arcadia doesn't seem like the type of nation to put in large backdoors..."

Luckily, it seemed like the dragon was ignoring this portion of the expediton. Even luckier, it seemed like there wasn't any immediate combat going on! Knowing those driver guys if there was a fight to be had, a wall would have collapsed by now. Maybe two or three.
 
Upper Path

Dahlia was startled by the roar of the dragon, bracing herself against one of the support trusses of the bridge. The captain rushed to the center of the bridge to get a better view of the creature as it landed, slowing briefly as Keith's voice made it through the radio. She brought the radio to her mouth, peering out at the unfolding scene. "Be careful, and get Rhea out of it's reach."

Dahlia pulled the communicator away and glanced at the Overseer who was standing by, entirely unfazed by the dragon. "Did Arcadia employ dragons for security purposes?"

The Overseer shook their head lightly, green eyes stilted as she looked back at the captain and pilot. "Not that I know. Anything larger than them was exiled, crushed, or replaced by obedient steel."

Dahlia peered down at the dragon once more, helplessly unable to do anything to remedy the situation at this distance. Well, she did have a gun but it was best not to provoke. The Captain froze in her gaze as she spotted another figure in the distance, perched atop a bridge not far from the grouping. It was an odd one, fairly human but... irregularly shaped. It looked like some kind of cloaked reaper, though the odd reflections of purple and orange muddled the image. The captain swung her pack around, grabbing a fluorescent yellow pair of binoculars from the side pouch. As the captain focused the binocularsd, however, the figure was gone. Nothing but a wake of strange purple light.

The captain chewed her bottom lip as she lowered the binoculars, looking about briefly. "There was something over there..." She hoped she'd be older before her mind started slipping.


The Overseer raised their head, intercepting Marie's signal. "Nothing but static pulses. Something may be passing through, but it's scrambled-"

OSC-01's diatribe was interrupted as she recalled the unit name. VEX. But when did they make a fourth? The Overseer turned around quickly, the cloth around them billowing behind as they paced to the opposite side of the bridge sidewalk. The robot eyed the armored box silently, speaking up a few seconds later. "It's in our, and especially your best interest to keep that box shut."


---

Dahlia glanced about, before looking down the bridge. It seemed the elevator was out... now, so there weren't many other options but to press on. She raised the radio once more, relaying Keith a message with varying clarity. "A jump from this height is suicide. We're going to try and find a way down. Let me know if the situation escalates."

The captain turned around, waving to the others as a signal.

The captain reached the center of the bridge, slowing down. Time had taken it's toll on the structure, weakening the center. Obvious cracks were visible from the surface, and pieces of the stone and metal bridge had already fallen the long, long way down. The Captain paused. "I'll go first, this time." Dahlia checked the structural integrity about with her foot momentarily, before finding the best viable path. She unrolled a length of rope from her pack, hooking it to the handrail at the bridge sides with a metal clip.

The captain carefully shimmied across the bridge via the sidewalks, careful to not disturb the many cracks. She reached the other end within a few seconds, standing back to more stable ground. "...Well, that went better than anyone could have expec-"

The captain was interrupted as center of the bridge gave way, collapsing entirely. The concrete crumbled, tearing down catwalk and rail with it in a cascade of rock and steel. The shower of debris fell for several seconds, before impacting the cavern floor in a loud but muffled crash. The aftermath of the event was a gap several meters wide in the center of the bridge, putting a clean divide between the hunched captain and the rest of the crew. All that was left was the twisted path of steel that used to be the railway, snapped clean in half. After a few moments, Dahlia spoke up- a few meters farther away on the other side. "...Fuck."



Lower Path

The denizens of the lower path could see and hear the center of the bridge collapse, farther up the stream. While they were fortunately far enough to avoid getting hit, bits of pulverized debris bounced off the metal roofs of the maintenance shacks. "...We're okay. You?"

A few moments later, Glasawyr heard that familiar voice again invading his mind. "Don't forget the job. Drive them off and I'll... go skewer you a boar."

However, he was not alone this time. As Rhea approached she could hear the voice too, like a familiar whisper coming in through the interference. She felt... watched.


Console Room

Far above the rest of the scene unfolding about the Defile, Reman was rummaging through the darkened room. In his search he amassed a small collection of handbooks and containers, but it was too dark to try and make out what they said. Trying to light them up with his driver would likely result in a fire.

Stumbling over a hidden tarp pulled it away from the vent, revealing a... secret compartment. Or rather, an incomplete wall panel. Unidentified work tools laid about the area next to the exposed metal beams.

A quite small but comparatively piercing orange light laid in the dark cubby, it's enticing shine bouncing off the nearby pipes and highlighting the edges of a large box full of switches. Many, many switches.


The Hunt

As Juryrig rounded the corner, he spotted it. The beast in question. It laid still, licking its.... rather wide feet. It had yet to notice Juryrig's encroaching footsteps. It was going to be an easy capture.

That is, until a wail of muffled static bounced about the corridor. The creature sprawled to its feet, slipping away into the darkness once more like the slimy projectile it was. Juryrirg heard a muffled voice coming from his... smaller backpack. "Hello? Hello!? Is anyone there?"

It was the little radio device he had lifted back at Alipier. Long quiet, not talking to him.
 
The Hunt... Will be put on hold.

Juryrig snapped his fingers. "Curses! It got away! I was so close to catching it, skinning it, and harvesting its flesh for those sweet noxious properties. I need to go find it again."

Concerned, Tom piped up in their shared head. "Hold up, Jury! What about the call on the radio?"

".... Let's be honest," Juryrig thought-spoke, "the others could get on that. We don't need to help them."

".... Jury, I want to help."

"Tough luck, I don't!"


Juryrig attempted to move on, but found that his legs are stiffened and very uncooperative. "Tom, I know that's you! Let me move now!"

"Well you know what, tough luck! I don't want to move!"

The two clashed internally, the body twisting and contorting at angles that would make any sane man petrified in horror. After two minutes, Juryrig lost control over the body by the sheer fact that he didn't have Tom's indomitable tenacity.

Tom took a long gasp of air, and took the time to a couple of force loose limbs back into their sockets. It was pretty painful, but Tom remembers Juryrig doing this before; having a shared body has its perks. "Alright! Ow.... Okay, let's do what I want to do!"

Tom takes out the old radio, and replies to it. "Hello, my name's Tom! Do you need help?"

".... We're going to die..."
 
Lower Path

Rhea knew how risky of an idea this was when she conceived of it... but she only realized just HOW dumb her idea was when she fumbled, and skidded her way to a stop, finally landing... relatively safely on her butt, in between Keith and the dragon. Boy, those voices in her head sure were distracting. She scrambled too her feet before the beast and wobbled her arms a bit for balance... hoh boy she was a little dizy after that spin she did.... Only to blink in confusion and anxiety as the dragon gave a big old SNIFF.

Before she had the chance to say anything herself, as she stood there, a little stunned, as the bridge literally collapsed behind her, and a dragon stood before her, with a seemingly telepathic radio... She hoped she wasn't just hearing voices, anyway. But she definetely didn't like that ice cold chill that came with it down her back- worse than any cold wid in Frozen Hell Bivonia, that feeling like somone was eyeing her up as their next mark. She resisted the urge to look around, only briefly glancing at the captain stranding herself on the wrong side of a bridge... and turning her full attention back to the dragon. Was it time for yet another, dumb idea?

She still kept the strange, glowing crystal between herself and the dragon, in an effort to give it space cancer should it actually choose to eat her, as she talked, trying to ignore the feeling that she was walking over her own grave while her killer just watched. "U-umm, Hey, mister dragon... I..."

She glanced back to keith, and the captain in the distance once more before turning back. He didn't seem like he was especially hungry for human... or whatever she was, so she could probably get away with this, but she still felt it was better to err on the side of caution and stay on the ready. "I think the captain of our ship is, always taking on new hires, with free room and board... food, I don't think she'd object to you joining us at all, yeah?"

From what she did understand of this situation... The dragon was definitely being ordered around by somone else- and was telepathic as well. She could only assume it could hear and understand her own voice as well, as she didn't know how to mimic that strange telepathic radio juust yet... But, she could guess that it probably had something to do with her powers, else Keith would have said something, right? But either way- if it could be talked to, surely that would be the way to go instead of trying to go all Dragon Slayer on it... And that wasn't a thing she was particularly confident in doing- she wasn't even sure how much force her Echyllis could muster, or how durable it was... That was probably something she should try out too, now that she thought of it.

"You, could uh, start with maybe asking keith to relay that you want to help make sure that she doesn't get stuck alone from all of us on the wrong side of a bridge?" Before the massive dragon, the redhead, complete with a hardhat and snazzy adventurer suit, with her little glowing lamp of a crystal lightning up the small platform around them, pleaded her case and stood her ground before the dragon. It wasn't like she didn't have any ideas floating around in the back of her head of what to do... and what might happen if her idea there went south, but they certainly weren't very clean cut or foolproof plans by any means- the dragon seemed fast, and it was probably tough too! it would be hard to run away from in this big open area even if she managed to get off the platform she was on with... And she was totally unsure that she had a ghost of a chance of actually being able to fight it- but she never had really tried to attack anyone with her crystals. Though she hoped she wouldn't have to.
 
Lower Path
Desolation of Smaug: The Alternate Ending


The Downrider crew all seemed to be under the impression that Glasawyr's relationship to the mysterious stranger was one of a loyal protector and his charge. They couldn't have been farther from the truth. A more accurate analogy would be a teenager working a lame summer job at the local water park's hotdog stand, and their over-zealous manager who seriously needed to get laid.

So, Glasawyr first listened to the orders of his superior, and began growling lowly, much like said teenager would when ordered to scrub the toilets. That was when Rhea offered an alternative course of action he'd been considering, yet hadn't quite worked out the kinks for. After all, he still needed a ride off of this rock, and so far his only option had been the hooded lady. But if this human pack was here, that meant that they had a ship. Sometimes, Glas was amazed by his own genius.

Rhea and Keith could almost see the loading wheel spinning above Glas' head as he did some calculations.

On one hand, break one of the last taboos from his culture that he still held on to and bring harm unto a child, all for a singular boar which would probably only feed him for a few days. After which, he would continue working for the box lady, who would continue to treat him like shit. Now that he thought of it, she'd probably lied about the boar. He hadn't sensed any boars on this planet.

On the other, cut fence, gain new friends who would let him explore the galaxy with them, and receive many foods, for so long as he stayed with them. Have a warm place to sleep at night, and possibly a chance to rip out Box Lady's entrails!

That wasn't a figure of speech.

Lastly, the second option would result in the least amount of drama. Glasawyr's tolerance threshold for fuckery was almost gone at this point. Attacking the human pack would no doubt result in much fuckery.

Yeaaaaah... Fuck this noise.

Glas made an excited little chuffing noise, and like the teenager throwing down his apron and storming out mid-shift, Glasawyr turned back to where the hooded lady had been standing, raised a singular fist, and offered a huge, draconian middle finger to both her and all of her kin.

Goodbye, box lady! I hope to one day slaughter you like a lamb! Your bloodline will die with you, for you have obviously never mated! Friend Keith, would you please tell your Alpha that I wish to join your pack? Oh, and little one, please be careful in these tunnels. They are very dangerous and filled with many stupid ways to die.

On that last cautionary message to Rhea, Glasawyr, eager to begin earning his keep, noticed the bridge collapse on the other end of the cavern. Not wanting to hurt his new friends, the massive lizard gently hopped off the platform and took to the skies again. One could feel the sheer joy coursing through the dragon's veins. Once more his wings filled the cavern with thunderous roaring, and he began to soar straight up to the separated group like a big, dumb, happy airliner. He was so ecstatic that he didn't catch the threatening gestures Romulus was making.

I now serve the Alpha, if they will have me! I have never tried Urane. What does it taste like?


Upper Path

Glasawyr landed, causing a minor earthquake, and began sniffing around at his new packmates across the gap from Dahlia. He wanted to learn their scents so they could be found again if they strayed too far. That's when those blue eyes landed on the Overseer. The happiness stopped, replaced by a twinge of fear and suspicion. Glasawyr froze, and didn't make a sound.


Are you aware that a False Life is among you? Very dangerous. We should get away from it.

Thankfully, Osco couldn't hear him, due to her lack of a biological brain, sparring her feelings until someone decided to fill her in. Either way, the Downrider now had a new crewmember who could fly, breathe fire, and suplex a locomotive.
 
Upper Path

"If you can catch him, please have your fill."

Romulus sat and waited on the metal bridge. Perhaps the long period of isolation had made him paranoid. Most likely, but with good reason. To the Artificer, this was the only reason he had survived this long on his quest. That feeling settled in that he might have to make another move as soon as possible, but he steeled his approach and took a quiet rest. It was only but a brief moment he had recalled from the one other time had gotten caught in that time, but that memory still haunted him. Urane was not a man who could be simply eaten, as much as he'd wish it.

It was only a moment later that the dragon pointed out Osco's presence as something unusual. It really didn't occur to Romulus that robotics were anything unusual to some at the time. He'd seen enough machines in his lifetime he'd built with his own two hands that he was desensitized to the fact they were even sapient. "And one more thing, I know who is a part of that crew, maybe only just a little more than me. She's just as much human as the rest of them, despite the fact her body is made of metal. Her name is Tara, but the crew calls her Osco."
--------------------
Console Room

Reman was a little curious ahead of his better judgement. The possibility that lies within the switches was endless, and surely... Flipping one or two couldn't hurt to see what they do, could it? Before he did anything though, he flipped through his comm links and sent a message before silently hovering his metal digit above a random switch among many and flipping it down, before following up with a few more. The message in question; "Going to try something. Tell me if anything strange happens."

Reman stepped back to watch the room around him to see if anything would happen. There was no way he even thought this place should have power, reguardless if it was something like a battery backup. It was simply just too old, right?
 
Not the captain's side of the bridge

Dragon? Check. Crew split up? Check. Bridge collapsed? Check. Another happy adventure! Aradia popped her neck, the muscles getting stiff from her zoning out for some time. Eh, things have been worse... And bloodier. mostly bloodier.

"Dahlia, you think you're good on your own there? Need Osco to toss me across?" The flash of the magician's pearly whites made it clear she was more joking, glad that the blue-themed leader had made it across safely. "Now, as for-" She was, however, interrupted by what can only be properly described as a public service announcement, courtesy of the local freaking dragon. And then the dragon himself coming up to, uh... "say hello" she guessed?

"Rrrrrrrrrreman's right, Osco here is working with us. She's been a very helpful companion, since she knows a lot about Arcadia's history." There was, notably, a problem that the child-appearing elementalist already saw. But she knew better than to ask directly, unless she needed to. "How did you get in here, by the way? Is there another entrance that you know of - one that is not the bunker in the base of the mountain where we had come from?" She... Also was hoping that the bridge wouldn't collapse under the dragon's weight suddenly, especially after what happened during Dahlia's attempt. But it'd proooobably be fine... Probably.
 
Lower Path
Shack n° 0921, I don't remember

Although Keith simply stood watch as Rhea had spoken to the dragon, the informant still had the full presence of mind to hook his hands beneath the child's arms, grabbing at her shoulders from the leverage of her armpits and hefting Rhea away from the platform's edge. Dahlia had entrusted the girl's safety to him for the time being, and he planned on fulfilling his duties thoroughly—while Glasawyr might not be aggressive, merely being nearby a giant dragon is a breach of security. What if it were to fall atop you, hm?

Letting go of Rhea's arms after landing her roughly at the doorway of the shack they were meant to enter, Keith cast a glance behind his back at the upper path where a bridge had just collapsed, the sound of metal giving in and shattering resounding through the enclosed cavern. He pressed two fingers to his earpiece, opening communications with Dahlia. "Captain, it appears that the dragon—Glasawyr, it calls itself—wishes to join the Downrider expedition. It would be wise to accept its assistance."

"...we might need a bigger cargo hold."
After a few moments, he sighed, lowering his fingers from his ear and rearing up on his left leg to kick in the shack's door once again, this time without interruptions. His gum rubber boot slammed into the rusty door's hinges with all the concentrated leg strength of the trained ex-sergeant, leaving subtlety to be desired but getting the job done all the same.
 
Kerolyne Defile
Upper Path


Dahlia listened to Keith's scratchy transmission, nodding. "...Right, the dragon is-"

The captain braced themselves as the dragon flew past to perch on the other side of the bridge. The bridge shook a little bit, knocking free a few pieces of concrete but remaining regardless. "....Here." The captain brushed themselves off, carefully staying near the bridges support columns. She wasn't much on dragons, as she rarely ever saw them. They weren't commonplace in the Capital City and the time the Vigali tried to port them to Bivona led to an... incident that bore no repetition.

The psychic touch didn't help.

"Dragon!" hollered the captain, "I hear you wish to join a crew." The comparatively puny Dahlia pointed a finger up at the docile (at least to one side) dragon. "We may be able to accommodate you, but first you must show me reason to trust you." The captain spoke with some authority, as if ushering a holy challenge upon the scaled beast. Might as well get some use out of the strange situation. "If you're serious about helping, then safely escort my crew across this gap." The captain noted the cracked flooring around the gap. "And try not to make it any larger."

OSC-01 gazed at the dragon, completely unshaken by their appearance. It was true, she could sense they were talking but could not hear what they were saying. There was only a brief moment of falter when Romulus started talking from the side of them.

As the crew looked about eachother and gave their opinion on the situation, the Overseer stood behind Romulus, gently prodding them in the general direction of the dragon when no one was looking. She spoke very quietly to him through the earpiece, so low even the dragon couldn't hear. Their tone was... surprisingly sharp. "Keep spouting nonsense like that and you might just be the first to ride."

The Overseer left Romulus behind with a covert shove, waiting patiently between the crew and that metal box. From there they did not move until the rest of the crew had departed- either through self will or the help of the dragon hire.

OSC-01 chose not to put faith in the large dragon, instead rushing towards the gap with an immaculate sprint. The robot extended a glaive halfway, sticking the blunt but pointed end ahead of their path. With a bend and a kick the Overseer had vaulted over the gap, robes trailing behind them as they landed on the other side in a sliding halt. OSC-01 stood quietly once more, folding the makeshift vaulting pole back into place as they went about their business once more.

The Data
Conduit


After a moment of silence, the strangers voice came through the radio. "Hello... Tom. You are right, I am in need of help."

There was a pause, broken by the sound of a metal chair scraping across hard ground. The stranger exhaled. "Sorry. Let me tell you about my day. I'm sitting here in this old lot waiting for a contact to bring me the one old-state echyllis hypercondensor in the bay area. This guy shows up with the condenser, everything goes normal but then he tries to hold me at bowpoint over my wallet."

"So I do what all I can do and blast him against a wall. Now he's maybe a little more than unconscious and there's medics and it'sss just a bit of a mess. I've been stuck here having a stellar flop of a day, right?"


"Yiiiiikes... Bowpoint, huh? Sounds a bit much to me, nobody should be taking it that far."

"Tom, whoever you're talking to doesn't sound like they're stuck... Let alone, alone. It sounds like they have a whole team behind them. We should ditch them."

"Shush, Juryrig, I got this!"


"So, I'm not really busy, just was looking for a animal and some other thing? Honestly, I have no idea what I'm supposed to be looking for, I'm never on the same page as the rest of the team. Back on topic though: you sure you need help? It sounds like everything's squared away..."

The stranger grunted, as if they had sat down. "Well Tom, I do. You see I'm already running late to work with this deal, and I still got to get this condenser to my boy Maerti and pick up some supplies..." The stranger paused, a more aggravated undertone slashing through their speech. "So imagine my day when my business partner calls me saying some random schmucks and a ancient tin can show up unannounced and start destroying the site we're looking to refurbish."

The stranger repeated, the anger subsiding. Judging from their voice, they were starting to pick up on something. "So yes Tom my remote friend, I'd love some help. Where'd you pick up the SARCOM transmitter?"

"Tom, hold it! I think I know who that is. That's gotta be that Bryce guy we ran into at the Aliper Observatory!"

"... Who?"

"He's the shmuck who's been going about claiming to refurbish and restore old Arcadian-related sites... Or something like that. If he finds out the crew's here, we're ALL toast!"


"... Uh, I found it in the snow? I mean, a free radio's a free radio, right?"

The stranger who may or may not most certainly be the man from Alipier groaned. "I knew those idiots we're gonna drop 'em. Some of them didn't even have belts."

The man huffed, sounding a tad more upbeat. "But hey, you can keep it, not like it cost me much. Besides, I think I remember you- that funny guy in the jacket.." He paused for a moment. "Well, you lot are down there and there's not much I can do about it. The least I can do is offer you a job. Something you and your... friends might be good at."

"Thar communicator can adapt to a wide variety of frequencies, mind patching me through with... whoever leads that little troupe?"


"... Should we?"
Tom asked Juryrig from within their shared skull.

"... You know what, yeah," Juryrig said, much to Tom's surprise. "Let's patch him to old blueberry. She IS our leader, she has to know everythiiiiing..."

"... Uh, alright then, man. This radio can do that." Tom, taking Juryrig's cue, fiddling with the broadcast settings, broadening its range so it should be in range to connect with the group Tom and Juryrig had left behind.

"Beautiful. Thanks, Jacket."

---

With the odd encounter over, it was back to the target at hand. Free from the moral dilemma that was the main villain-candidate of his tale asking him for a favor, Juryrig was off to track the creature once more. Through the much and mess of wiring, he hunted. After a few minutes, he spotted it. The creature had taken up refuge in some kind of clearing ahead, through a tight vent. The scaly undersides of the beast could be seen through dim lighting in the ventilation shaft- likely coming from the main cavern.

This time, the beast had seen Juryrig coming. It didn't run, however. It gave Jury a funny-looking gaze through the vent, cautiously licking its yellowish eyes. He could feel a gentle breeze coming from the other vent, as well.



Lower Path

The door took a few firm kicks to break free, the deadbolt holding up for as long as it could before eventually snapping along with the now open door.

Ahead of the gang- now only a few really, lied a darkened cabin. Unlike the first cabin, this one did not have any windows minus a one-way panel of glass in the front which yielded very dim lighting from the already spotty light outside. The room was of a moderate size, with smaller counters, racks, and cabinets laid around the sides. At the centerpiece of the room laid a square workspace, littered with debris and something rather large. A series of posable lamps were clamped to the table, but they all laid dead and broken.

Equipped with a handy flashlight, one could identify the remains of a turret sprawled out on the table. It was a little disassembled, but still in far better shape than the similar model found outside. Tools and oddly shaped fasteners laid in heaps and cups about the project, along with a glass panel roughly the size of a book.

The side of the cabin facing the way of the canyon did not end in the way one would expect. Instead of a wall, there laid some kind of cheap airlock, with a sliding metal door that seamed clearly loose on its tracks. The door had foggy windows at just below average height, but the room beyond was so dark nothing could be seen from them.


---

Upper Path

Terminals

As Reman flipped through the various switches, there wasn't much feedback other than the occasional click. As he worked through them, he came across one that promptly blinded the man. After a few seconds to adjust, it was clear that Reman had flipped some kind of switch for the lights in the console room.

Now bathed in the artificial glow of slightly-tinted tube lights, Reman could get a much better glimpse of the room he was just in. It was some kind of... mission control room. Consoles lined the room in even rows, their thin metallic monitors dead and many broken. Unusual input implements lined each console, in key patterns he had never seen before. On one side of the room were two large boards, one made of glass and the other polymer. Various papers, notices, and signs were posted to the polymer board in Arcadian script. At the back end of the room was a metal door the same color as the wall, locked with a visible padlock. A distant groaning could be heard from the other side, like some kind of squeaky wheel.

Tunnels

The bulk of the Downrider crew tread through the tunnels once more, this time with a rather large addition in tow. There wasn't too much to speak off environment wise as they walked- the tunnels were as bleak as ever. The similarity and uniformity of the slightly angled tunnels was almost a little unnerving. The only thing appearing to break the uniform bricks were occasional metal doorframes. No doors or tunnels, mind you- just the occasional frame sticking out from the wall. Every once in a while, the tunnel would take an unusual bend- nothing extreme but nothing predictable either. It was as if the tunnel was adjusting course to somewhere predetermined.

After a while of walking, the Downrider crew and new hire found themselves at the lip of a new room. The tracks below them came to a stop at a raised platform. some kind of station sitting to their left. At the end of the line laid the crushed remains of a vehicle, with no distinct wheels. The vehicle was made out of some kind of sheet metal and leather, now crushed out of shape betwixt a collapsed ceiling and the heavy metal bumper ending the track.

The platform was home to a transparent billboard, which displayed no useful information at the time but gave view to the greater expanse beyond. A set of spinning metal gates separated the crew from the dark room ahead. On the other side was a large, very large circular room that seemed to stretch down many floors. Dahlia raised her communicator, trying to figure out what Reman said through the distorted noise. "Rodger."


Dahlia took a defensive posture as another light flickered on ahead of the crews presence- this time a few of them. They flicked on in off, seemingly at random. The room was surrounded on all sides with a variety of doors and gates, leading to diferent tunnels. Entire floors were dedicated to large metal doors, each adorned with an unknown number and a small vent. Various aged signs hung on the walls and from the ceiling, decorated in faded Arcadian block script. Dahlia fumbled her radio back up to her ear, peering out at the active lights. "There's light down here... Was that you?"

The center of the room was home to a large tower, at the top of which resided a mirror-coated cabin. The catwalk that lead up to the cabin was however retracted against the ceiling. The gap between the surrounding catwalks and the tower was a few dozen meters wide, and the pit of chambers, platforms, and tunnel networks stretched down a few floors. Certain doors were much larger and more prominent than others, but it would take some translation work to find out where to go next.

The crew could hear a distant groaning noise- some kind of metallic stress. What more, the crew could hear... scuffling. Dahlia peered out into the dimly lit centerpiece form behind the gate, before noting a more... unusual broadcast appearing on her communicator screen. It wasn't making much noise, however. Her face seemed a little... perplexed.
 
Console Room

Reman walked into the central terminal area and tried to observe his surrondings before making resounding footsteps towards thecentral poster board, before taking pictures left to right and sending it to the crew. A slightly noisy message from Dahlia later and Reman took to responding. "Yeah. I'm in some sort of console room. Plenty of switches in here. Models older terran design a little..."

"There's this strange noise that sounds like when I tore the door open a little... Kinda nervous but I'm willing to press more buttons." Eman stepped back to the terminals, and pressed a key to activate one, before wandering off back to the switch panel and hovering his large steel finger over another button. "Good idea?"

--------------------
Upper Path

"Interesting that you're more nervous about your own name than I thought." he said in a whispered Caesar-like tone. Romulus was caught in a pool of intrigue, drowning in questions and possibility as he thought about just what Tara was hiding. The shove was enough to make him stumble slightly, but it was almost as if he had let it happen willingly. His face curled into a sly yet non-decieving style took just a moment to fade into his usual stern demeanor as he walked into the main group.

"Listen. When you have time, we need to talk. Away from the group." Romulus reached for his empty holster and grasped at it longingly. He had no idea how close the collective group and... well the collective were getting to finding out his secrets. This party was forcing him to buy idle time in his main quest. The nervousness of his disarmament was slowly and subtly encroaching on his future endeavors. He knew he'd get the gun back at some point, but waiting is an idle task. "Was Ferris his name? I'm sorry that I could not have done more to help..." Romulus sped ahead of Osco to observe the tower ahead before resuming his normal tone. "Any clues about this maze? Some sort of ancient crew quarters?"
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Back
Top Bottom