[center][i][b][color=a187be]Annabeth Gulch[/color][/b][/i][/center]

It was time. With what preparations that could be done, the roc hunters gathered their things, put away any of sign of their camp, and left the safety of the forest. They had made quite a bit balista bolts as well as lengths of vine rope. With a bit of ingenuity and elbow grease They made an improvised grappling shot of sorts. Annabeth refereed to it as the rope shot. She had no real intentions of being able to take down the roc without a lucky shot, and she couldn't rely on luck right now. No, she needed to stall, to give the others enough time to get the wagons and get out. She made that much clear as they were on the way to the roc's nest.

[color=8882be]"Remember the mission: We need to get those wagons back. The roc is merely the main obstacle in the way. Aramir, Auriel, Liam, I want you three to go secure the wagons. IF what we know is right, the roc hasn't killed the horses yet, so try to secure them. Me, Colette, Eural, and our skull friend Arcadius will distract the roc the best we can. I can't ensure that we'll kill it, but with the arrows Aramir and Auriel made we can at least keep it occupied. Once you get the wagon see if you can try to send a signal to us, like a flare or something. That way we can retreat back into the forest and we can all head back to the college. One last thing: This mission isn't worth your life. If you get hurt, if something goes wrong, don't push yourself. I don't want to lose any of you tonight. Now let's do this!"[/color]

There was little fanfare from Annabeth, but as they got closer to the roc's nest they did stop by the forest to drop off the extraction crew (Auriel, Armir, Liam) while the others stayed with the wagon. Loading the balista with the rope shot Annabeth looked around. The sun was already beginning to set, and an hour or less it would be nighttime. While she was confident that she could use the moonlight to give her viability, the night sky would make it hard for Annabeth to see the Roc come down if it does. But that's what Colette was there for. 

[color=a187be]"Colette, you'll need to be my eyes. Watch the skies for me and tell me when you see the roc."[/color]

[i][b][center]Tyrael Marchosias[/center][/b][/i]

Time was up. He wanted more people for this job, but Baulder was the only one who actually bothered to stick around. It couldn't be helped: if this guy was willing to work than Tyrael had a job for him. If anyone else showed up Tyrael would tell them the same thing he told Baulder. Back at the office Tyrael sat behind his desk, a map of the world flat on his table. He marked the location of the college and the location that he wanted the group to go: The land of Tidehome. Known for their sea economy, the group would have to go through the Aerta College area and head south. With the wagon Tyrael was going to give them, it would take them about half a day to get there and half a day to get back. They'd have at least one whole day for the mission Tyrael had for them, so it'll take them two or three days depending on how badly they mess up. As for the mission itself...

[b]"Go to the southern coasts of Tidehome and bring back a live lobster. This is what they look like."[/b] Tyrael showed the group a sketch of the creature in question next to a humanoid figure. The lobstar was about as long as the man's leg; a large specimen indeed. [b]"This mission is simple, so failure is inexcusable. I want this lobster alive. I require only one, but I will pay for any additional lobsters as well, but they must also be alive. The roads are dangerous even between the college and Tidehome, so bring whatever equipment you deem necessary. If you require weapons or armor see me at the forge after this briefing, or go to the infirmary if you need other supplies. You are to leave within the next hour. That is all."[/b] Giving everyone a short list to remind them of their objectives Tyrael headed back to the forge. He wasted too much time looking for [s]victims[/s] volunteers for this job, so now he needed to go back to the monotonous task of arming what Tyrael felt like was half of Eania and three-fourths of Djarkel.