A man getting thrown through a window, into the muddy, rainy outside.

A shit-load of gunfire, and the sound of a lion?

A forest. A deep, dark forest. The feeling of fear. Tension. Worry.

A missile launch, and some mountains in the background.

A lot of panic, building paranoia, tension.

Freezing, horrid, cold.

The klaxons from her past, the Border Guards yelling on the tannoy.

Future, past?

Then why was there a red-haired woman in an exoskeleton running through a concrete bunker?

x--x-x-x--x-----------------------------------------------------------------------------x---x--

Tactical Breach Wizards: Fireteam Hex

Act One: Regroup

Part One: Last Orders at World's End

Day 1: 17:21:02
The World's End Pub
Village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Oksana felt the poke on her back, as her eyes stopped clouding, the dark-haired Polavian facing off against the taller, bearded, ginger-brown....wizard of some kind? A short hat in hand, curly hair, plate carrier on, FNX in a tan holster at his side with a fancy looking Osprey wand-like silencer sticking by its side, with a rucksack yet no rifle. A techy green hoodie with olive cargo pants, he looked ready for war, if only he had a rifle or staff. Was he at the bar expecting to get into a gunfight? Then again, so was she, and if he wanted to kill her, he'd know she'd have seen it coming, even if she'd been taken by suprirse. After all, Oksana didn't keep kit far away, but wasn't wearing her plate carrier, but had her rucksack with her green ghillie and PB sticking out of it, her own sniper back at Babushka's. She knew how these things usually went when you were trying to stay mobile. The man broke the tension first, Oksana realising she might recognise him, as he faced her in the chair. And she wasn't the woman in her sight right at the end. That was....like another world, or something else?

"Mind if I get a lig.....hey, I think I recognise you. Oksana Czasowa, right?"

Oksana grimaced, before that underhanded glare turned into a dry, sarcastic smirk. Felix would have seen a white and blue-vest wearing, adidas jogging bottoms having short-dark haired seer with bread and pickles in front of her, a phone with a picture of her last deployment in Medil with her fireteam on her wallpaper. A rucksack to her side, a silenced barrel and knife sticking out of the top of it, and on an ashtray, a recently finished cigarette.

"You're the one that ate a horse. So much for staying undercover." Oksana barbed back, as she watched like a hawk, letting him soak that fully in as she glanced around, as she drew the lighter, passing it to Felix, letting him light his cigarette, not even needing to really acknowledge his need or want, just doing as asked. As she knew any smoker would appreciate.



Rural Polavia. It was an old, wooden-framed pub, the kind that looked like it had probably been renovated maybe twenty years ago, but been here in position for at least a couple hundred-ish years. The wood was clean, all pine, like the trees that swarmed outside in the dark, dense forest that most of the Libor Province had to offer, outside of backwaters like this. A handful of foreign beers if you were lucky, but it was almost all local stuff, probably one of the few products Polavia made exceptionally well. A bit of drizzle poured down outside in the late afternoon, the spring meaning it was still cold outside, but the snow was just about cleared. Mostly locals had found their way in, already drinking, slotting shots, and getting wasted after working on local farms, or in local lumber mills throughout the day.

An argument had broken out on the other side, and it absolutely reeked of cigarettes, that Felix was now contributing to. He had kicked smoking a while ago, but Polavia, the cheap cost of it, and all of this, had made him come back. The music could be heard blaring from someone's shitty, tinny phone speaker across the bar. It was a stereotype.

The houses outside were grim, varying from noveau riche that had worked in the DSR as migrant labour, to just outright wooden shacks that looked like they'd been there for a hundred years, and had zero conditioning applied to them to make them nice. Roofs that looked like they were all about to fall off, it was not a nice sight, as was the departing bus outside that came into the village dropping off workers and picking up depression.



Not a place with a card reader for payment, not that any redundant Reactor merc had a credit card to use given the state of their runaway. Felix had his paycheck withdrawn as soon as he could, as did Oksana, used still here as Dollars and Polavian Crowns seemed sometimes interchangeable. And varying in preference.

"So much for it. I'm trying to be better. So you can give me shit for it, but still, at least you're the first person who has here. And you speak my language." Felix replied after that long break from recoiling in Oksana's earlier comment, taking a seat on a barstool, breathing out, Oksana putting her glass on the rocks down, looking across.

"What do you want?" Oksana cut to the chase.

"To not sit here on my ass alone? And given the fact you're drinking a double of vodka on the rocks, I think you're in the same boat. I fucking need one." Felix replied, assertive, frankly done with his day so far. Of mostly splitting wood and sitting in bleak, miserable silence in a hut. And dealing with not having a solid meal since Kralovec.

Oksana chortled, before turning back to a deadpan look back at him.

"Suka, I am here alone, and want to be drinking, alone. Because my entire fucking life has been dismantled. I escaped this fucking country seven years ago, my DSR visa has been ripped up, I'm wanted in at least two different countries, and worse, I'm now back where I started with nothing. Not even my fucking cat. Which has probably now been thrown into a cattery because I haven't paid my fucking minder. I can se my fucking future and it looks grim. So yeah. Fuck you. I want to be alone." Oksana finished up the shot, tapping the table, yelling at the bartender, who promptly poured another. "I'll get you a shot."

"Can't you, I dunno, fucking see, being a seer, that's a terrible way of looking at it?" Felix reasoned, as Oksana blew her hair up with her hmpf.

"And you turn into a fucking lion! Makes no difference to why we're sitting here, waiting for shit to happen?" Oksana poked back, sighing, almost groaning.

"Same fucking boat. Wife, kid. Shit. Yeah." Felix mentioned, as Oksana sighed, vodka in hands, and another slid across to him. Felix hadn't quite expected that. But then again, Oksana had a strange way of showing any affection, as she offered the shot to him, and clinked, before shotting.

"Zdrowie. Cheers to that. What is your name? I can't remember it from the newspaper article." Oksana replied, eyeing him up and down, the blue-and-white stripy vest revealing all her ink across her arms and a little on her back and neck, revealing an operative that if she could, would ink the rest of her body sooner rather than later. A punk, in Polavian old-school gear.

"Felix Lyons. Sabre Detachment in Reactor. Team Lead. Did some lifting. The stories are true, we were the emergency service for the sticky ones. For better, and worse." The shapeshifter replied, Oksana nodding in return, asking the barman to come back and pour the two again, as Felix finished his.

"Sword Detachment. Designated Marksman. Sniper. Saw some shit too. You guys weren't in Medil when it all went down, were you?" Oksana asked, as Felix's ears twinged.

"No....I was off a few months ago. Due to....yeah, that thing."

Oksana chuckled, Felix taking the shots and giving her one.

"Yes. That thing." The response was blunt from her, as Oksana pointed out something as Felix shotted again. "Eat bread, idiot. You're gonna fall off your chair when you stand if you don't." Oksana remarked, as Felix took note, the smart-arse Polavian opting to sip hers first, before breathing out.

"This is fucking disgusting. That isn't Polavian Standard. Is that homebrew?" It was sinking into Felix that this booze was some seriously worse shit given the second shot hadn't even improved after the first cleaned his palate, the voice at the end of the bar replying to his off-hand comment.

"Srebro Vodka! Is best in all of Libor Province!" The barman yelled in English, as Felix put hand to face, sighing.

"Fuck it is." He said to himself, keeping it quiet so Oksana could hear, looking at her again, knowing the beer was probably no better, at least, in his taste. "You local to here?"

"Sort of. Babushka has a house here. She let me crash while I work things out. Got nowhere else to go." Oksana replied, sighing, another pair of shots getting poured, but not getting drunk. "How'd you get here?"

"Took a Faceblin ad for a holiday home up in the forest, got the bus. Toilets are outside. Costs literally a handful of dollars a night. I'll take it. Chance is a funny thing." Felix replied, as Oksana nodded.

"Villa Aparat? I mean, yeah, it's a shithole. But hey. Could be worse. You could have no toilet at all. Hole in floor. Shit in the street. They believe magic is why the cisterns work." Oksana's smile cracked, as Felix realised she was perhaps reminiscing on how nice she had in the DSR, versus here.

"You got comfortable in the West. Out there with your ability to see things coming. I respect it. Hell of a Craft." Felix noted, keeping it short, Oksana quick to reply.

"No, not comfortable at all. Babushka still shits in street." Oksana added, turning around. "And it has problems. But in all the possible futures you could have been a cunt, I suppose you're not going to be. I will try also to be less miserable because it doesn't look like it works well for me drinking alone. But....no choices in front of us mean the vodka bottle will not empty itself." She added, chewing down some seeds and bread between shots, and a pickle.

"Noted. That some Polavian proverb?"

"It's mine."

"Fair. I mean, right now, only thing I can think of is counterfeit papers. But I'm waiting mostly. For things to calm down." Felix noted, as Oksana shrugged.

"Aren't we all." Oksana replied, interrupting what she was about to ask when she craned her neck to the door. "Who are they?" Oksana asked, watching a couple more trickle in. More mercs. It was obvious they were, because they looked a lot cleaner, and definitely, worn from not a day's work, but from travel.

"How the fuck is every merc in Polavia in this bar? Okay, that's Rowan Morgana, and that's....wait, I thought he was...." Felix stopped as Oksana put hand against his ribs and got out of her seat, seeing the person following her.

"BORYS, KURWA! YOU DWARF MIDGET PRICK, YOU OWE ME A HUNDRED CROWNS, YOU CHEAP BASTARD!" Oksana stood up and yelled in Polavian, faster than Felix would have even anticipated, as she walked across, and despite his superior strength, towered over the dwarf. Everyone in the bar was so fucking wasted, or lacking in care that even this scene didn't really get much as another bar fight was already wrapping up at the end of the bar, the sound of some guy losing teeth setting the scene to the three walking inside now. The group coming in closed up quick to Oksana and Felix, despite Borys no doubt wanting to move away.

"Did you fucking forget that I might be able to see this coming?" Oksana asked in Polavian, as Felix looked to Rowan, rolling his eyes, looking on, watching as Rowan probably was in as much confusion as he was. And thinking Oksana was about to kill him, their first impression being an angry Polavian woman covered in tattoos next to Felix, who some might have known vaguely as the guy who ate a horse at a parade. He introduced himself to Rowan, knowing she was the first of the bunch he definitely knew. Best to acknowledge that at least while Oksana was planning some non-domestic violence on the other ex-Reactor Polavian, so Felix made an introduction.

"I think they may know each other, I can't recognise the language. You did a lot of chemical warfare related stuff in Reactor, it's....Rowan, right?"

"BASTARD!" Oksana dragged him across back to where they sat in English by his fucking ear, tapping her hand on the table, yelling in Polavian at the barman, between Felix and Rowan.

"He's fucking paying my tab! Aren't you, BORYS? Taking advantage of a fucking Albani!" She switched back to English for full effect, as Felix sighed, struggling to believe this.

"I'm not complaining if my round is covered. Shit. I thought I saw the bottom of the barrel." Felix replied, chuckling. As Oksana argued with Borys, as Felix put his unused shot across to Rowan, Keodis and Ish.

"Welcome to Polavia. I think this is how things work." Felix added, as he put his hand up, requesting two more shots for whoever didn't get one, sighing. They were so clearly Reactor, it hurt, and in this moment, Felix realised it was probably a better idea to keep away from the locals if Oksana was about to batter someone. Two was coincidence, why were they all here? It must have been becuase it looked like the first village after Kralovec that seemed off the beaten track. But then again, a lot of Reactor had swarmed into Polavia recently, given the company's fortunes. So it made sense some were travelling, or some were stopping here. It was just strange that Felix recognised them as the other crafters in the PMC, or at least, the ones that weren't in some tank being pumped full of modified mana.

"Vodka shot? That is Oksana, and I'm Felix." Felix almost exasperated, hoping alcohol would remove his sanity of the situation. Oksana scowled, giving a wave with her spare hand, Borys's ear in her other.

Day 1: 17:21:02
The World's End Pub
Village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

---

“Best in all of Libor Province. That much is true, and it explains why this place is such a depressing shithole. It tastes like a potato threw up in your mouth.” The man in a wizarding ushanka and tracksuit robe grumbled as he and Rowan passed an ajar window, “Which still ranks it above rubbing alcohol and Medilandia.” He added dryly in a tone that left one questioning whether he was serious or not, stopping to wipe the mud off of his shoes while the witch went in before following.

”BORYS, KURWA! YOU DWARF MIDGET PRICK, YOU OWE ME A HUNDRED CROWNS, YOU CHEAP BASTARD! ”

Being met by angry yelling upon entering a pub had by now become a habit. Usually it was an old uncle yelling through a fresh tooth gap or the owner of the place, something about broken or… stained… furniture. This was slightly new. For once, he recognized her. For two, she was already asking to get slapped, only reason he didn’t try it being that he recognized her and knew it didn’t have much of a chance working.

”Did you not fucking forget that I might be able to see this coming?”

“It’s a useful talent. For example, if I knew ahead of time I’d have to look at your mug, I would have gone elsewhere.” He replied in Polavian, using the fact that Oksana grabbed his ear and thus only had one free hand to do anything to pick her up under her shoulders and carry her back to the bar like a wet cat, stopping just short of purposefully taking her prior seat.

”He's fucking paying my tab! Aren't you, BORYS? Taking advantage of a fucking Albani!”

“Forsee my answer, Suggestion Box.” He switched to English as well, flipping off the seer to give her a hint while signalling the bartender for a drink with his other hand. “And you can also see what might start happening if you don’t let go. Not my fault you lend people money without having anything in writing.” He might have already been six shots in - it was after five, shut up - but with the screeching banshee in close proximity, at least he wanted something to make his ears stop hurting. More if he was about to fistfight a seer.

The vodka disappeared down his gullet as fast as it arrived, Borys taking in the other operators while waiting for a re-up as Felix talked shit. “When did you see the bottom of the barrel? When they tried to drown with the rest of the litter, kitten?” He might not have taken Oksana’s seat, but decided to provoke at least a little bit and hit them both with one swing - ordering a packet of salted breadsticks and sliding them over to Felix. “Wouldn’t want you going hungry. You look like you could eat a horse.” He noted, lighting a cigarette and holding out the lighter in an unspoken offer to the gathered wizards, white-knuckling the thing in case Oksana wanted to start collecting in installments.

Day 1: 17:21:16
The World's End Pub
Village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

---

Walking in, having to duck slightly to avoid the low doorframe, is a very tall tanned man with a curling mustache, a vest with many cyndrilical pockets that circle his entire torso, and strange bulky cuffs around his wrists and ankles. He chuckles watching the exchange of the typical Polavian greeting of loud death threats and drink accusations, and knocks on the bar lightly.

"Da, just pull a cheap bottle of whisky down and hand it to me. These jackasses are probably going to be at it until you kick them out, so I might as well get enough now that I don't have to come back."

Bottle of whisky in hand, he moves over to the rest of the reunion and sits gingerly in a bar stool. It creaks menacingly under him, but doesn't give out. Yet. He sighs, and pours himself about half a glass that he sips

"So, I recognize some of you. Borys, good to see you. Lyons, you arsehole. Rox, I think I was your van in... what was it, fucking Samiya? You saved my ass, and I never got around to giving you a drink for that. Seems like we got ourselves a regular reunion here."

*He relaxes the tiniest bit, and that's when the barstool gives out. It crumbles apart beneath him, the wood snapping like popsicle sticks, and Keodis slams onto the ground, laying there with his glass and bottle still on the counter.

". . . I fucking hate bar stools."

He slowly stands up, brushing off wood splinters and dust, before grabbing his tumbler and bottle, and moving to a booth where he sprawls out and hammers back the rest of the glass, before refilling it.

Day 1
The World's End Pub
Village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

---

Soundtrack: Elton John- Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting

Rowan had breathed easier once she crossed the border into Polavia but she pushed deeper into Polavia. She wanted to move away from the border. She decided to avoid the larger cities where it was more likely she would be recognized as they received news from other countries faster. She might be noticed in rural areas as well but it was less likely that the folks living in those areas would connect her to events happening in other countries so far away or care. She was careful to stick to roads traveled enough to have gas stations. She really did not care to try and carry the few possessions she had managed to take with her. She could and would rather sleep in her car than on the ground. Rowan had gone through boot camp and had been trained in survival and had slept on the ground and dealt with the ick of mud and insects that came from the great outdoors. That did not mean she liked it. Rowan appreciated and liked modern conveniences such as running water and electricity. She knew that being on the run would force her to deal with fewer luxuries that she was used to. Damn Reactor!

She had been inside Polavia for a few days when she ran into another former Reactor agent. She had stopped in the small village of Pristupin in Libor Province. She had refilled the gas tank on her Mercedes and was seeking some food. She was hungry and she thought finding a pub or bar to get a bite to eat was a good idea. She could glean some information about what was happening in Polavia and how bad her situation really was. Did she just need to lie low for a while or was she here to stay? If she was here to stay, what kind of work could she find? It wasn’t much of a plan but it was a direction and a step towards a plan. She had been walking towards the entrance to the pub when she ran right into Borys. She recognized him as a former Reactor Agent. Reactor Teams had sometimes been on missions together and sometimes they ran into each other at headquarters. There was some competition and rivalry between the teams which each had their unique abilities and strengths. Rowan decided that there was some safety in numbers. A familiar face was a welcome surprise. They had exchanged greetings before agreeing to finish catching up inside.

Rowan was dressed for traveling. She would have loved to break out her more fashionable clothes but she was on the run. She felt like she needed to be able to blend in to the locals or at least look like other tourists. She was wearing her combat boots, black skinny jeans, and a long flowy purple tank top. She had a backpack purse that looked high end designer in black leather with a shiny gold icon on the side. Her wand was inside with essentials. She had left her weapons and tactical gear in the car. Locked up in the trunk out of sight with a protection ward guarding her gear and valuables. Her dark red hair tumbled down the center of her head in a waterfall of loose curls that tumbled down her back. Her hair free from the tight braids she used when going into battle. It was her attempt at fitting in as a tourist instead of a mercenary.

Borys had been sharing how bad the alcohol was here as they went through the door. She was disgusted by his description. Maybe this had not been such a good idea. Her own alcohol was probably much better quality but she didn’t have much with her until she found a new home base to set up in. As they walked through the door a loud angry feminine voice was yelling.

"BORYS, KURWA! YOU DWARF MIDGET PRICK, YOU OWE ME A HUNDRED CROWNS, YOU CHEAP BASTARD!”

Rowan looked on in amusement as the dwarf was confronted by yet another former Reactor agent. She was highly amused as the woman grabbed his ear intent on taking him with her when the dwarf picked her up and carried her across the pub. Rowan followed along in the wake of them both. This might have been a good idea yet. She was surprised to be greeted by name. She had not thought her team had gotten as much exposure as others. She did recognize the man greeting her, Felix Lyons. His story had been the hottest rumor around Reactor for at least a month after it had happened.

Felix greeted her and seemed to know who she was.

"I think they may know each other, I can't recognise the language. You did a lot of chemical warfare related stuff in Reactor, it's....Rowan, right?"

Rowan nodded as she took a seat next to Felix Lyons. She kept her voice low enough not to carry in the loud tavern. She was still being cautious. You never knew who was looking for you and might be listening in. She was well aware that some witches had scrying ability. She didn’t think she attracted that kind of specialized attention yet but a little caution never hurt.

“Yes Rowan Morgana, Chemical Warfare Witch, former Omega Team lead.” She gave him a polite nod in greeting.

Felix offered her a drink.

"Vodka shot? That is Oksana, and I'm Felix."

She decided it was probably best not to inhale. The smell from the drink might turn her stomach. She lifted the glass in salute and slammed the homebrewed vodka down. It burned going down and made her eyes water. She gasped and coughed as she wiped at her eyes.

“Holy Shit! That crap could be used as paint thinner!”

She was oblivious that she had just insulted the bartender. She took a moment to recover from the nasty drink. She wasn’t so sure about food now. She hoped the food was better than their alcohol. She looked around the noisy pub and the people in their group. She recognized that there were more Reactor Agents there and she suddenly wondered why so many of them were here in Polavia at this little village in this particular pub. She then remembered the news and what was happening in the DSR. Reactor had been laying off agents and teams for a few months now. Just like herself many agents were fleeing as they were now wanted for war crimes or by numerous countries. It certainly explained why there were so many of them in Polavia but not what had drawn them all together at this particular time and place. Rowan had a gut feeling that other forces were at play. Maybe it was logical as she had followed the most likely path out of the DSR and kept off the main roads but kept to minor roads that would have what she needed as she made her way deeper into Polavia.

Rowan waved down the waitress and put in an order for something more substantial than bread. She decided to try the loaded potato skins and asked for some wine hoping it would be better than the vodka. They sounded safe enough and at least there would be some protein from the cheese and bacon that was supposed to top them.

Rowan looked around at all of them. “I want to ask the obvious question. I know how I ended up here. Why are all of you here?”

Day 1: 17:30:05
The World's End Pub
Village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Shots Fired

Oksana being carried turned her face into a near growl, as she was thrown to the side and Borys started giving Felix shit, letting go. She didn't intervene, no answer out of him was satisfactory. Felix didn't much appreciate it either, but he was just more blunt.

"Go fuck yourself, Borys. Aren't I just lucky you're too shitfaced for me to find out if you taste better than a horse. Bastard." Felix wryly smirked, knowing he could contain himself, but after a couple of shots, he was significantly looser. He slid a shot to him, in the international sign of "I didn't like what you did, but I'd drink with you anyway".

The sight of Keodis's chair snapping as if on cue added to that, a bit of peak comedy to make this already messy shitshow get even more complex. The massive man on the floor, Felix offered a hand, sighing, passing his glass to the fallen man, who had been spectating. A giant of a man, who carried a load of armour and went in and where a lion wasn't working out to do surgical work, he would be employed to liberally pepper the area in question in UXO. If pyromaniacs were addicted to setting stuff on fire, he was fairly sure Keodis was addicted to explosions. His craft just pushed that a little further along.

"You were saying?" Felix chuckled, pulling him up, Oksana even chirping in.

"Yes, Keodis was good. And I saved him, yes. He kicked in doors, blew up lots of shit, detonated a lot of people. You know, I saw you die lots. Worst one was that mortar round. I couldn't see that out of my dreams in week. All that armour, he was like...." Oksana put her hands up, before making an explosion noise, talking at both the team and Keodis.

The arrival of Rowan, who sidestepped the mess seemed to make things a little more orderly. Felix had good memories of Rowan. A wild witch, but no less professional, competent, versed. Cerebral, she was a clever one, but no less versatile. With the shots in their hands, a collective clink, even from Oksana, who kept a scowling face, Rowan's reaction making it clear what most thought after clearing the shot.

"Yeah....it sorta gives me a hint that it is like paint thinner, you know?" Felix commented on that point, Oksana shotting the rest of hers.

"Everything in the regime has two uses...be careful, Rowan, molotov doesn't just need a cauldron to make, just some personal sacrifice" She giggled in her accented self, now getting more rat-arsed herself, allowing this luxury.

Felix heard what Rowan had to say, knowing it was an obvious question, but the answer was maybe more simple, coming back to it about how he got here.

"Got nowhere to go because despite the investigation suggesting command knew I should have been fed, I still fucking 'ate a horse, didn't I? And I had more than enough years behind me to justify that being at least a written warning, not this. So here we are. I guess the village is the first one off the road on the way from Kralovec to Novy Jork, so we all made similar choices. Has cheap accommodation, and it's far enough inland that it keeps us out of the way. Chance is a fine thing....every village must be full of Reactor mercs in northern Polavia looking for a drink and maybe a way back. Guess we're filling the void by having money to burn, and bars to fill. Like on the Liboli border all over again." Felix replied, looking around to the others, hearing their responses.

Screwed, fucked over, and generally, with nowhere to turn. This had been, by most likely, the place they'd wanted to go. Out of Kralovec, not so deep in the woods they'd barely speak the language, but also, on a bus route. Public transport was crap in Polavia, but the buses, as carbon monoxide making as they were, got people where they needed to on the muddy tracks.

Midway through Keodis's reasons, the Polavian Watcher-Witch bolted upright.

"Shit!" Oksana seemed to snap out of nothing, and yanked the bottle the group were pouring shots from, throwing it as hard as she could away, with an almost olympic-level discus throw of spinny vodka bottle in flight.

And then throwing herself over the bar.

When a seer does that, you immediately have to think it's not ending well.

Before Felix even had a chance to yell, suddenly watched everything started getting blurry. The bottle was in mid flight, soaring towards a particularly bald, particularly bankrupt looking drunk man at a big table full of big drunk men. And then it....

////////////////////////////////////////////////////-/-/-//-----------------------------------------/////////////////////

Stopped. Everything did. The barman pouring an amber gold pint. The television on the far screen displaying smoke and pyro on a football game in the capital. The light flickered, as every single pint drunk, shouting match, yelling across the bar, went dead, pitch, silent. Spit in midair. It felt cool as fuck if you glanced for a second, but the crafters would realise, they could move, nobody else could.

Beads at the entry door brushed aside, the black outlines rushing in filled the void, unaffected by time coming to a halt. Time had frozen, one smaller witch at the back looking like her hands were out, eyes out, holding the bubble out to stop time itself inside the entire bar. Filling the room like a sort of vapour, affecting everyone....bar the team. The barman in surprise as to what was going on. The drunk locals on the further side of the bar watching the bottle smash into the biggest man at the table's male pattern baldness having head, the glass still splintering.

The team moving forwards were fast, and no flashbangs were needed when they had a Holding Witch on their side. She'd frozen time, well, apart from anyone with a craft in the room. Handy when you needed to deal with a sensitive situation like this one.

"Special Forces, hands where I can see them, get on your knees!" Felix heard in DSR-accented English, as the main man ran forward, Felix just laughing at this point with how done he was with this bullshit. Five operators total. They pointed guns at every single one of the party, Felix receiving a stock to the stomach when he didn't stop laughing at how shit his luck had truly been, standing aside from the team.

Felix had also had a few shots in him, so that felt like it put him into misery once more, the vodka burning on the way up and making it hurt. Sobering fast, but making him want to be sick. But it sucked more that he was on the end of a fucking DSR raid. He'd gone up in the world.

At this point, the team might have realised, maybe started thinking that they weren't giving off main character energy. Felix absolutely wasn't.

"WIZ-TAC, this is Battlemage Actual, we've got HVT confirmed. Moving to arrest. We'll be twenty mikes to primary extraction." Felix, while on the ground looking around at the others, realising that while guns were pointed, the main one standing over him was bearded and bald. And he recognised him. WIZ-TAC, the DSR's Arcane Special Forces team, certainly had hired someone back he hadn't expected.

"Turn and I'll fucking have fun shooting you in the head, kitty cat. Hands where I can see them! Everyone else, hands high or we'll open fire!" The bearded operative called, bald, the G3A3 in arms showing this was not an operative packing little heat, but an esteemed professional.

"Harry? Fuck me. You guys really wasting taxpayer money on this bullshit?" Felix recognised him. That was a Reactor merc too. And now he was in WIZ-TAC again? Motherfucker. Felix felt one of the other operators put zip ties into his hands, presented forwards, knowing well, this was par for the course now.

"Shut it, Lyons! We will waste taxpayer's money on whatever the fuck command says, so on your feet!" The voice of the bald, bearded operative, came back, the crystalline substance on his robe indicating some sort of talent with crystals, that not entirely coming to Felix in this immediate moment. Even if how surprised he was of all people...it was Hazza fucking Lerwick? The crystals started to bond in his zip ties. That was concerning.

"No, like, I genuinely didn't think it would be you. Come on. How'd you do it, blood magic, using the others to make me drink....shit, or even getting them as help? Don't fucking kill them. I'll go easy." Felix sighed, realising that he could turn right now and eat him, the feeling was coiling inside him after all. Just take him. And hope the others had an idea. But then again, that might kill everyone. Not a great call. Man, he fucking wished he had a bit of Oksana's sight here....

The rest of the team had guns in their face too. Rowan being faced down by a thin, dark-haired operator with an M4A1 with the staff in it with a large ruby-like crystal in the end suspended by a light-wood like amber, a SOF helmet with full green MARPAT and a whole plume of flowers across her arm looking like some energy magic was up her sleeve. Keodis with a bulkier looking, dark-skinned dude with an M249 that appeared to look like he had something else up his sleeve beyond many gym sessions. And Borys was simply facing down a balaclava-wearing, red-eyed, robe wearing, MP5-carrying operator that looked like a stereotypical SAS breacher mixed with a warlock, looking like he could summon something. The witch at the back seemed to be the lightest armed, with a sleeveless robe, with a MPX across her bandolier, hands out, holding the bubble like she was blowing it out.

"Just you, your actions. The honeypot worked." Harry seemed almost proud of himself, as Felix sighed. The house was far too cheap for a reason. It wasn't a vial of blood, not even a sample of something else. Felix replied in turn, taking a good look at his captor.

"You're so unprofessional. Fucking doing it in broad daylight, you that brave?" Felix vocalised- Wwy wouldn't Harry just shut the fuck up on his victory lap? There was a rustle, the bubble holding for now, as the team were having guns kept close to them, making them think twice about reacting. They were probably realising they weren't here for them, but for Felix.

Oksana clambered around behind the bar, knowing this was critical. What she'd done had been stupid, but then again, a raid was in nobody's interest. Even if it was just Felix they were after, actions were in motion she could see going badly, even with the horrid interference from that fucking witch's holding bubble, freezing time itself. And she was a fucking idiot for this, because all she saw was chaos theory in front of her. If she did this, it was going to go poorly. But she was enough vodka shots down to ignore concequences, and well, realise that the part of her that wanted this, made this clear, was that her drinking session was interrupted.

She didn't give a fuck if it was DSR Special Forces, she had already started the chain reaction of consequences that would end badly for everyone once the team took Felix away. If they took him, they were getting their asses beat by the far end of the bar.

So, Oksana was ready to face it. After she'd sorted a few things from her position out of the way. Standing from behind the bar, hands up, guns turning to her standing up, and knowing she had all eyes when they hadn't accounted for the lithe Polavian, she opened her mouth.

"He's an asshole. But would you mind? We were just drinking. So...." She dryly commented, PB hidden tucked into her combat pants, on her back.

Suddenly, the witch at the back started to look like she convulsed.

"Idi Nahui!" Oksana yelled, in perfect, prim, Polavian, well and truly, a "Go Fuck Yourself" delivered in a manner that felt almost too cinematic.

The entire bubble of time burst.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////-/-/-//-----------------------------------------/////////////////////

And before anyone could do anything, the rest of the scream could be heard as the slow-motion events that the entire team had seen happen, now unfolded with the vodka bottle in contact.

The voice screamed at the far end of the bar. Blood pissed across the wall, glass exploding, vodka soaking.

And as if by almost a convulsion, the special forces team raiding the bar had a bigger problem to deal with. A load of drunk Polavian workers who were having their drinking session, the bald man the bottle hit, who in this instance, looked so drunk with his square glasses on that he seemed like he was lumbering across with blood pouring out of him as if it gave him a warpath. The rest of his friends were sharing his aura. That wasn't magic, that was just Polavian drinking power.

"Debil, don't fucking ruin a good thing!" Oksana yelled out to the raiding team, the spray of rounds from one of the operators smacking wood as she dived already harmlessly out of way, the barman yelling out as well, getting into cover as Oksana chuckled, already picking bottles from the fridge. Not for consumption. She had ideas beyond her sight, but her being drunk and able to see the future could see she wouldn't die if she did it right, and that the team would have time to react.

"Shit, grab the asset and let's go!" Another voice yelled, as Felix barged into "Harry" from his knees to stun him even with a gun in point blank, running the other way that Oksana did as she threw herself over the bar and the others had their chance to get free, who smacked a vodka bottle into Harry's head, throwing the remaining bit at another operative who didn't realise that dealing with a seer came with her being able to see what moves in the future stopped her from being killed.

"Smashing!" Felix yelled back, looking to the onrushing stampede of the other side of the bar wanting to pick a fight with everyone. Including the mercenaries. He peeled the zip tie open on a shard of glass behind the bar, looking at the scene before him. The crystals made it harder, he'd been lucky they hadn't hardened yet, but that felt like enough of a pain in the ass with the warm water and pure aggression he'd needed to channel to get them off while the team got to work.

It was hard to tell what was real and what was fake- none of this made sense, so the only thing in a Polavian bar fight was maybe to try and not die. There was a mess of bodies, more Polavians who were sober even joining in, but most, were absolutely more drunk than even Borys. And that was saying something. They were mostly teethless, stupid, and worse, angry they were interrupted.

Killing the special forces team was probably a bad idea. But running for now was a good one, at least disabling or knocking them out, as Oksana was kicked by the man that had Keodis covered from a stray leg, knocked hard into the floor in a moment her vision couldn't see due to the good old, being drunk and in the midst of the worst chaos theory she had experienced in a while, Felix running hard at him yet being interrupted by bleeding, drunk bald guy who came in flying with what was almost a drunk rugby tackle?

Pushing him aside, Keodis's assailant was then pushed over, as he sprayed rounds but immediately had his LMG picked from him, before he got a kick in and shoved the men away, going for Keodis once more, and it looked like with a staff he carried on the side of his rucksack, he was able to influence and move objects. Telekinesis of some kind? It looked like it, though the stool he was dragging needed to pick up momentum before it smacked two of the men charging after him, before he had an open angle.

The entire bar was in conflict, most of the special forces team disarmed...well, until, a massive bolt of reddish energy suddenly rupturing a wall from the M4-carrying witch with an elemental staff in her barrel and two innocent bar goers turned into mush, as that soldier had her M4 ripped out of hands and punched in the face by another drunk publican and was immediately set upon by at least three drunk bar goers.

"We need to leave, right now!" Oksana yelled out, knowing that the situation had totally broken into shit. Where they were going? Oksana wasn't quite sure. She had a hand on her bag, and pulled it up into her shoulder, Felix barely clambering up and the two hoping that Keodis, Rowan and Borys had sorted themselves out.

"Where we going?"

"I have an idea!"

Day 1: 17:30:05
The World's End Pub
Village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

---

”Go fuck yourself, Borys. Aren't I just lucky you're too shitfaced for me to find out if you taste better than a horse. Bastard.”

“Probably do. I’m also more useful than one.” Borys shrugged, sharing the drink with the ginger operator. “Can carry about as much and kotlet and semechki are easier to lug around than hay.”

”Holy Shit! That crap could be used as paint thinner!”

“We are practical in Polavia. Everything has more than one use to make up for the shortages. I tried to warn you.” Borys laughed at Rowan’s reaction to the drink, “Try the Silver Swan, it’s a lot smoother. Or the North’s Call Gin, some rich, tree-hugging hippie up north makes that in her spare time.”

The next arrival seemed to block out the Sun. “Keodis! Finally, someone with proper manners.” Borys went to help the giant stand up if he wanted the help, then joined him at the booth. “Haven’t seen you since fucking Liboli.” He spat on the ground as if the word left a bad taste in his mouth, “When you brought the sand python or whatever it was into the barracks in a shoe box. How have you been, bratan?”

And then things started moving. Or stopped moving. Both, somehow. All Borys knew was that suddenly there was the muzzle of an MP5 in his face and orders being barked. What was this, prison again?

By now he felt he could chance the 9x19 at point blank and live to tell the tale, and if he’d had his armor on the breacher would be taking hands already, but the lack of titanium plates around him would have made that a very painful ordeal at his current blood alcohol level, and the 7,62 the team leader’s G3 was chambered in also threw a spanner in the works, as if a round with that much ass behind it hit him at point blank, even the vest wouldn’t have helped him if he could stand on his own. No, this would require teamwork, thought and some good old Polavian combat creativity - sometimes known as war crimes. Good thing Sana was there so he wouldn’t have to save the situation alone, he thought to himself. Of course the seer would have a plan, and given the bottle throw, he could guess at what it was. It was likely just a matter of stalling until she could put it to work.

And stall he would.

“Whaaat? You think we’d lower ourselves to working with that debil Hairy Lipstick?” Borys said in response to Felix’ suspicion, sounding as if genuinely offended by the thought and about nine pints deeper in than he actually was..
“Shut it! Hands!” The operator holding him at gunpoint shouted.
“Hhhey, heeeey!” He turned to the man, “There’s… no need for thooose. There’s enough to go around… for everyone!” His speech was interrupted by the drunkest belch he could muster, “And why is that lovely lady aaaaall by herself? Come, join party! Barman! BARMAAAAAAA! One Polavian Nipple for the lady, you lazy kurwa! This a pub or waiting room?” He gestured wildly toward the time stopping witch, taking a wobbly step in her direction.
“Shut the fuck up and quit moving ya cunt, or I’ll stab ya!” The breacher yelled.
‘You’re welcome to try.’ Borys thought.
“Now… that’s not very nice of you! Haven’t you heard women have rights in Polavia now for some fucking reason? Let her speak for herself!” He said.
“You wanna try this, you drunken fuck?!” The operator holding Rowan up turned to aim at him, confirming his suspicion that her assault staff was the most dangerous thing in the room, likely including a transformed Felix and freeing up a few seconds for the chemical witch to act when things started going down.

When the time stop spell fell apart, the raiding team hesitated, briefly distracted by the drunken Polavian yelling unexpectedly not coming from Borys. Long enough for Borys to grab the breacher. Not to disarm him, the weapon sling was a bit of an obstacle in that. Borys simply hugged him, headbutting him in the process, trapping the MP5 between them and utilizing him as a human shield, putting him between the ruby assault staff and himself. Before long, the entire DSR commando had bigger problems than their actual targets to deal with, and Borys wouldn’t be surprised if one or two of them would die right there and then unless they had blinkout spells prepared.

"We need to leave, right now!"

“I got it.” Borys replied, picked up his still-swearing human shield and raised him over his head like lifting a barbell before throwing him through a nearby closed window. “Go! Davai!” He called out to the team, figuring the raiding team was so confident in their ability to stop time that they hadn’t set up a proper cordon, or at least had it set up in a way that the seer thought manageable. He waited for the rest of the operators to vacate the building, grabbing a bottle of vodka before diving out of the window after them. An astute observer would note that Borys’ cigarette hasn’t left his mouth through that entire ordeal. “Hey, your friend? Real asshole, not gonna lie.” He said in Felix’ direction, only then checking what he’d grabbed.

Fucking Medilandia…

Day 1
The World's End Pub
Village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

---

Soundtrack: Let the Bodies Hit the Floor - Drowning Pool

Borys was kind enough to offer alternative alcohol suggestions as she expressed her displeasure with what she had been offered.

Oksana’s reply had Rowan rolling her eyes. Like she didn’t know how to create a Molotov Cocktail without her craft. That was an easier way to do it but far less controlled. Rowan had just finished recovering from the nasty shot and placing her order for food when she had asked the obvious question. Felix’s response to the question mirrored her own probability theory so she relaxed a little. She could admit she understood why Felix was here. He was almost in a similar situation as her except she had a whole country looking for her head. She had not known that other Reactor teams had been released as well. That would explain the numbers here in this small remote village.

Reactor had disavowed her team and thrown them to the wolves. She wouldn’t go back to Reactor now if they begged. That left her wondering what to do next. She knew she was being hunted and that there was a price on her head. She had no idea how big the price was or how seriously people were hunting her. She thought about maybe teaming up with some of the other operators. Her reasoning for following Borys inside still held true. There was some safety in numbers.

Rowan had been about to reply to Felix when time seemed to slow down around them. She went on alert and pulled her purse off the back of her chair. She unzipped it and reached inside for her back up wand. She slid her purse straps back on with her wand in her hand in the brief moments that the team coming into the pub had made their entrance.

A loud voice shouted out "Special Forces, hands where I can see them, get on your knees!" Rowan cackled as she thought like hell! She couldn’t help but think how stupid was he? That he thought any Special Forces Operative would simply do as he asked. She was thinking they were like Team F for Fuck Up but she had to give them props for having a Holding Witch on their side. That didn’t make him any less ridiculous though. Special Forces didn’t ask you to stop and come quietly, that was the police’s job. Special Forces acted first and sorted shit out later. Rowan was annoyed to have a gun pointed at her. Her lip curled in a sneer at the operative. She waited quietly preparing some things to use when she made her move. She began silently casting an acid spell on the pitcher of beer that was sitting on the table next to her.

The man was stupid enough to talk loud enough to be heard reporting in. She couldn’t believe how unprofessional he was. Was he hoping to have his whole team annihilated? What happened to operational security?

She listened in as he reported their status. "WIZ-TAC, this is Battlemage Actual, we've got HVT confirmed. Moving to arrest. We'll be twenty mikes to primary extraction."

Rowan’s uncomplimentary mental thoughts continued as the man threatened Felix. Evidently Felix was their target. She couldn’t help a slight shiver of relief that it was not her. She still was appalled at the guy’s ability. The operative had a nice gun but he was giving too much of their operations away to truly be considered a professional. His remarks indicated he was with a DSR Special Forces Team.

"Turn and I'll fucking have fun shooting you in the head, kitty cat. Hands where I can see them! Everyone else, hands high or we'll open fire!"

Rowan cackled again and couldn’t resist commenting. “Really are you sure you want me to raise my hands? You finally are going to threaten to fire at us if we don’t comply. I think you might have your mission parameters and actions a little backward there. AWKWARD!” She couldn't resist making fun of him. She was a trained military operative and the guy was trying so hard to be a badass but was coming across as a first rate chump to her.

Rowan raised an eyebrow as Felix’s remarks indicated that he seemed to know the unprofessional asshole. "Harry? Fuck me. You guys really wasting taxpayer money on this bullshit?"

The operative responded and only had Felix under control due to the number of guns on him. She was getting really annoyed at this guy. "Shut it, Lyons! We will waste taxpayer's money on whatever the fuck command says, so on your feet!"

Rowan listened and watched as Felix complied. "No, like, I genuinely didn't think it would be you. Come on. How'd you do it, blood magic, using the others to make me drink....shit, or even getting them as help? Don't fucking kill them. I'll go easy." Rowan sighed as she now felt like she owed it to Felix to help him out of the jam. That was where their conversation was heading. Rowan grinned evilly as the beer in the pitcher took on a nasty green tone as her spell finished.

Evidently Harry was not done monologuing for his team. He must really feel the need to tell everyone how important he thought he was. "Just you, your actions. The honeypot worked."

Rowan’s lips turned up in a half smile as she heard Felix’s reply. "You're so unprofessional. Fucking doing it in broad daylight, you that brave?"

Oksana: "He's an asshole. But would you mind? We were just drinking. So...."

Suddenly, the Holding Witch at the back started to look like she convulsed.

"Idi Nahui!" Oksana yelled, in perfect, prim, Polavian, well and truly, a "Go Fuck Yourself" delivered in a manner that felt almost too cinematic.

The entire bubble of time burst.

The vodka bottled landed and time was flowing normally again as the bar fight began in earnest. Polavian workers joined the fray as their drinking session had been interrupted and one of their own had been injured. She heard Oksana yell out "Debil, don't fucking ruin a good thing!"

Rowan turned her attention to the woman standing in front of her. Rowan was being faced down by a thin, dark-haired operator with an M4A1 with the staff in it with a large ruby-like crystal in the end suspended by a light-wood like amber, a SOF helmet with full green MARPAT and a whole plume of flowers across her arm looking like some energy magic was up her sleeve. Rowan met the woman’s eyes as she carefully held the gun on her with a staff in her other hand. Rowan made her move. She used one arm to push the gun away from her as she spun and swept the woman’s feet out from under her. She kicked at the staff in an effort to send it spinning away from the woman. Rowan was once again grateful for her martial arts practice. She kept moving in one smooth motion. She picked up the pitcher of acid and threw it on the mage she had knocked down. She entered the battle leaping away from what she hoped was a now incapacitated mage. Rowan aimed her wand at the babbling idiot Harry and quickly channeled a lighting spell as she threw a glass of whiskey at his head. She was hoping it caught fire and that the electricity would paralyze him.

She was trying to fight her way to Felix when another voice yelled "Shit, grab the asset and let's go!" Felix had managed to free his hands and plowed into Harry. Oksana dived over the bar as she threw a bottle at Harry and another operative. Felix yelled out "Smashing!"

Rowan waded into the fray using her martial arts expertise to block hands and blows aimed her way. She ducked and used others for cover as she began to work her way towards the door. She had to get out of the building first. She readied her wand once more. Maybe she could let loose a ball of chain lightning to clear a path to the door. She concentrated and felt a spike of pain in her head. This spell took way more power than the one she used previously. She felt a little trickle of blood flow from her nose. She was using her elemental spells to deliver little zaps when her martial arts failed. The mana usage was piling up fast. She could feel the beginnings of mana fatigue. She needed this fight to end.

She heard Oksana's voice yell out "We need to leave, right now!"

Rowan rolled her eyes. What the hell did Oksana think they were doing? She certainly was not trying to join in the barfight. She spotted an opening and ran for the door. “Come on! That is our exit music!” She was focused on getting outside and missed Oksana saying she had an idea. So did she and it involved getting to her car. She made it out the door of the pub and started looking for the team as she began moving in the direction of her car.

Day 1: 17:30:05
The World's End Pub
Village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

---

The moment time ticked to a stop, Keodis crossed his arms. Not to be aggressive, or obstrepperous to his captors, but for another reason entirely. Watching the confrontation happen, he slowly undoes the velcro on his bulky wristbands.

"WIZ-TAC, this is Battlemage Actual, we've got HVT confirmed. Moving to arrest. We'll be twenty mikes to primary extraction."

Fucking amatuer. Letting us all know you think we're done for. With the straps on the bracelets loose, he lifts his hands slowly, watching the floating vodka bottle over listening to the soap-opera next hostage over. The moment that bottle even wavers, shit will be kicking off. With the resident precog... yup, not in attendance to the stickup, there WILL be hell breaking loose here soon. All that needs to happen is one. Little. Distraction.

Suddenly, the Holding Witch at the back started to look like she convulsed.

"Idi Nahui!" Oksana yelled, in perfect, prim, Polavian, well and truly, a "Go Fuck Yourself" delivered in a manner that felt almost too cinematic.

The entire bubble of time burst.



As soon as the bottle started moving in the air, Keodis' hands drop and one slaps the muzzle of the box-fed machine gun away from the firing line into his chest. Stepping inwards to make the gun worthless, he punches the other man in the armpit the moment he lifts a hand, and keeps engaged to make sure that machine gun isn't used.

Struggling for a few seconds in their own scuffle, the moment his opponent kicks out at Oksana, Keodis seizes on the opportunity. One hand grabs the carry handle on the body of the gun, while the other spaces him for a shoulder tackle that sends his opponent stumbling back into the mob. If he broke his fingers hanging onto the grip of the gun... eh, they have mediwitches for that. Turning around, Keodis caps his whisky, and shoves the bottle into one of the enormous pockets on his cargo pants. Looking back, he looks across the state of the room.

Hold Witch: Still disoriented, has a gun, still a threat.
Battlemage Actual: Mobbed by Polavians, shocked and vodka-coated. Safely ignored.
Breacher: Human shield of Borys.
Former Gunner: Getting up, has a secondary weapon.
M4-Witch: Covered in acid, aim-opENINGFIREGODDAMMIT

Thinking quickly, Keodis slides off the armbands, and takes a pitchers stance. He takes a quick breath, before throwing one armband at full force at the M4-Witch. Now, here's a fun fact about those armbands. As you can guess, they're not decorative. When Keodis worked with Reactor, his main weapon was a modified version of a crew-served weapon that he carried around. A Mk. 19 grenade launcher weighs about 70 pounds without ammo, and about 90 with a full belt. Keodis wanted to stay in shape, so he got special armbands that had compartments for weighted sandbags, that he could use to keep up the arm strength needed to use his weapon if he ever needed to. All in all, each armband weighs about 45 pounds.

At about 82 mph, the M4-Witch is clocked in the side of the head with 45 pounds of sand and kevlar. She goes down like a dropped pig carcass in a meat processing facility.

The second wristband meets a similar fate, being flung (much more gently) into the face of a drunk Polavian who goes down just as hard. Stretching out his arm, he huffs softly while finishing off his whisky glass he abandoned at the beginning of the encounter. "I should have stayed in fucking bed this morning."

Pushing off of the bar, he rushes at the now casting Former Gunner, grinning wildly as he grabs the stool out of the telekinesis and pulls hard, straining and eventually snapping the object out of his control. He proceeds to break the chair while swinging it into the side of the Former Gunner.

Looking at the dazed and bruised spec-ops fighter, a near-slasher grin spreads across Keodis' face. He grabs the poor soul's plate carrier with one hand, while looping his other between the man's legs. Lifting the man up on his shoulders, Keodis hikes the man over his body, and slams him vertically face-first into the bar in a standing brainbuster. Dusting his hands off, Keodis grabs the M249 by the handle, which was conveniently next to the now laid-out form of it's former owner, and starts walking around the side of the fight.

This plan is utterly derailed as he is summarily superman tackled out a window by a drunk Polovian, who he proceeds to punch the daylights out of. Rolling the slightly overweight man off of him, Keodis stands up, brushing off the glass shards on him, and looks down the street to see Borys' form swinging a bottle of... is that fucking Medilandia? Poor bastard didn't check the label before leaving. He walks over, pulling the intact whisky out of his pants pocket.

"Well, that was... a way to wake up. Need a drink?"

Day 1: 17:35:01
The World's End Pub
Village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Getting Wrecked

Enough shit was flying around, that at this point, if the team were trying to forget the events of the last few months, they were receiving an indirect catchup.

Between Borys taking the breacher as a human shield, taking a piece off the board pretty fast, Keodis followed up rather nicely with a hurl of a beanbag at the witch holding up Rowan. Who herself was nifty enough to throw acid at her M4-come-staff wielding witch (inevitably making her scream as it burned the side of her face and arm) the follow up of weakened lightening catching fire on Harry's combat shirt. That said, it went out quick enough when it mostly landed and was spreading to another drunk, setting a Polavian farmer who was so shitfaced that he was basically a walking fire hazard, alight.

And still fighting.

A man was on fire punching someone in the face, and if you didn't find that funny, there was no hope really, was there?

It was a fistfight. Hands thrown, blunt objects and glass lobbed, and the entire team were getting battered. Not irreversibly so, some due to booze having more "health" than usual, others just having craft that solidified that. They were all trying not to die, trying not to get pinned, and it looked like something more from Kingsman than it did a thriller. Messy, unorganised, hellish. But no less funny to see a dude spread fire to his other pissed up friends, truly revealing that drunk Polavians were so much more of a threat than any special forces team could expect.

Resisting the urge to double tap Harry, Felix instead tried to make a way for the exit. The Holding Witch had other ideas, though, now caught up in the fight and holding back from opening fire on civilians. If she could at least land something on him, that would be best- and what luck would have it....he appeared to be moving right towards her!

The Holding Witch tried to swing for Felix given she could make a reverse tackle, but he went through her, ghosting past, as the witch was then set upon by another two alcoholics esteemed members of Polavian rural society, and getting a solid right hook. Felix on the other hand was throwing himself out of the window that Borys had made a hole in, his Copy Cat doing a perfect job of throwing the last operative off the scent.

Pistol raised, Felix kept pistol pointed back towards the window, knowing with distance, there was now an ability to make sure anyone following would at least get .45 ACP over their head, before it entered skull.
"Get back, you fucking morons! Davai, davai!" Felix yelled, backing away, looking around, keeping cover and letting Keodis get set up, checking his vodka bottle first, then the M249 to cover Felix's move. More fighting could be inside, the voice of English cutting through.

Harry yelled out, realising the situation was fubar, as they got cornered in a bit of the bar, holding comms on his rig, aware that they'd beyond fucked this raid up, knocking down another drunkard, firing rounds into air, creating breathing room as a few of the drunks backed off on gunfire. "Team, extract hot via glyphs, we'll regroup at OP Violet!" It was retreat.

And like that, extraction glyphs hot, no Felix in tow because well, between him, the team and getting Felix, were now a plethora of drunk villagers. Half his team being disarmed, and very little hope they'd be able to win a fistfight without causing an international incident, they were leaving. Killing everyone in the bar was not on their order list, Harry was at least professional enough to say that.

So, Extraction Glyph time it was. The glyphs were ideally their way get the hell out once they had Felix in hand, out of the bar, but it would dump them back at their observation post a few miles away, where a helicopter would have to be told to cancel their pickup. They weren't far from the fight, but back to square one. Teleportation was only so good in range with a glyph like that, especially with an anticipated "passenger". It wasn't worth even asking how it worked, once again, being another mystery left to another day.

Felix could see the smoke from it pop, and realised that it was a sign the team of special forces wizards that had descended upon them- had decided they'd missed their mark. Getting killed was stupid over this, versus coming back to fight. They could have kept chasing relentlessly, but the mission was compromised. Sensible really. He looked to Keodis and Borys, the two having taken the window route. Voluntarily, and involuntarily, inversely.

"Holy shit, that was intense. Harry was always an asshole at the bar on shore leave. And it's five o'clock somewhere Keodis....they're off in a hurry. I think I'll lay off the sauce for now. Suit yourselves if it helps you make sense of this insanity." Felix commented, laughing, looking to Oksana, Keodis and Borys, glad they'd survived this. Oksana had followed him out, keeping herself out of trouble, not seeing any situation she was going to be able to help out in this close. Apart from rip shit into Felix.

"It's not five o'clock, it's 5:38, actually!" Oksana dryly remarked, getting no laughs from that one as she kicked the man who tried to go for Keodis in the side, knocking the wind out of him before he could get up. "Okay, my babushka, she can keep us out of the way. Felix, we'll talk later about why a DSR team is after you. But they'll be back, and alone, we're at risk. We need to go there, and lay low for now. If we get seperated....it's two kilometre west, follow the dirt road, a tiny little hut with a yellow tile roof." She added, as Felix nodded, just in case the team were split up.

With the DSR team seemingly giving up, Felix knew their window was short as hell given the threat had now shifted. The barfight was significant enough to no doubt raise suspicions and police would be here sooner rather than later. Even if the Polavian Police were not as terrifying as their former Security Apparatus predecessors, it was time to make a swift exit.

"We need to get armed if they do come back. And get moving. Wait, where's Rowan gone?" Felix asked, as they realised the two groups had split up. Rowan had made a move for her car, and Felix realised the two groups had split. Divided by drunkards now as the bar fight spilled out.
"I'll find out!"

----

Running out, Oksana ran after Rowan, seeing the raiding team poof in clouds of burst smoke, exhaling hard, brushing off the debris and dirt from her ink-covered arms. She looked to Rowan in the distance, who was running for a Mercedes-Benz E-Class, an estate car that by this point had gotten a slight smattering of mud and dirt. Oksana bolted, closing the distance, the rest of the team making tracks away, down the road, the other way.

Oksana ran up, tapping the bonnet, sliding across it from where it was parked in the street.
"My babushka....my grandmother, she can hide us, we're going to be hunted if we don't leave now! Let's grab the rest!" The sound of police sirens could already be heard, the pub calling it in as the brawl continued inside like something from an old cartoon. More swearing, as another drunk got thrown outside. Had they not realised that the raid was done?

"Shotgun!" She yelled, opening the passenger door, conveniently, where there was also, the Mossberg just sitting there hidden between the seat and the door. With it, Rowan had the chance to floor it, but they were getting split by a crowd of drunk pub goers....unless they were chased back.

---

Felix and the crew ran through the muddy street, the sound of the fight continuing behind them. But a handful had followed them through. And weren't stopping. More sirens could be heard. They had to get these idiots away. They couldn't keep running, the enemy was powered with potatoes and vodka, and pure anger. All of which meant they weren't escaping. Drunk energy was making them run as fast as the team were, and right now, much as Felix wanted to shoot, turning around, he realised they had probably cleared enough ground, and could hear the engine of Rowan's car incoming, to make it count when it mattered.

"Hang on. I have this lot." It was crowd control time.

And with it, the man put pistol down, the ginger-haired soldier suddenly shifting, turning, and what seemed like a blur, the ginger-haired, olive-hoodie wearing operator suddenly manifesting out of reality. And back into something else. A party trick.

From two feet, to four, the plate-carrier wearing lion trotted along, eyeing up immediately the man who was still bleeding from the head now, who was now holding a machete of some kind and running after the team in a jog. Where on earth did he get that?

And the machete-holding, pisshead, may have realised that even if him and his friends were angry enough, he had brought a knife to a lion fight. The others were likely thinking of shooting, fighting, or something else altogether.

Felix stood his ground and made a decision there. In front of the team, pointed at others, he roared. A guttural, frothy sound. Even when drunk, even as rural as some of these idiots were, likely thinking they could take on a bear, a lion? Well, it was out of place. Out of area. And one that with the weight behind it, of pure, hellbent frustration, made it clear that this was a man who wanted to eat. A thump of the mud, and he stood regal, poised, growling. About to charge, eyes locked.

"Blyat! Run!"

Another roar, and Felix watched as they turned and ran, before looking back at Keodis and Borys. He had an underlying hum to him, a gutteral, almost bloody sound in his throat. A fully grown armoured African Lion was quite the sight, and now, perhaps the two understood the reputation if they hadn't seen it in person. He was sizable enough to brush his mane past both, before shifting back, the operative glancing down the street as Oksana and Rowan arrived as the others ran away, deciding their decisions were better to go back inside and continue boozing.
"I think we're done. I'm starved. Or I'm going to start finding out what Polavian tastes like if this fucking country throws more drunk people at us. That was the worst bar fight I think I've ever been in. You both holding up?" Felix casually added, boots squelching into mud, and putting out a hand to the Mercedes that skidded to a halt, the team making tracks to get in, and get the hell out.

---

Day 1: 18:01:42...
Oksana's Babuskha's House (Oksana's Grandmother)
Somewhere outside the village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Blood Alcohol Levels: Questionable

Get Breaded

The music on the radio was of course, Polavian in quality.

Soundtrack: Kino - Gruppa Krovi

Felix had diverted halfway en-route, the team just exhaling for now- getting dropped off halfway and heading into the woods, heading to a dead-drop he'd left, recovering a weapons crate buried in the forest. The rest of the team had been driven through the muddy tracks by Rowan, guided by Oksana, who tried to keep her feet on the mats of the Mercedes, which may have once upon a time been a posh car, but was now the chosen car of any two-bit gangster in Polavian countryside. So it fit the bill, because it was generic enough to blend in, while giving some performance at least.

Keodis also had a chance to stop by his range- which was en route- and grab his supplies. It looked like he couldn't get his armour, not yet at least, so he had the rest of his tools, whatever he could muster. Borys had much of his scavenged gear too, however he could get them, for the time being. The final stop, with sirens in the village visible, was the Polavian's grandmother's little hut in the woods.

The team all clambered out, the small hut quaint little farmhouse exactly as Oksana described, like something almost a little too stereotypical. A rural Polavian farm, with less in the way of fields, more in the way of pine forests that were now growing out over fallow strips between them.

So, when the team faced it down, the lion emerging from the bushes might have thrown some of them. He'd run a bit faster here that way, than, in his human form, but it wasn't any less intimidating. Carrying all he could on that form was also quite efficient too. A lion covered with his rifle, ammo, and all the other supplies that came with a modern mercenary's setup. The cabin had been useful. But this? This was his backup.

The lion groaned, the sound being that of hunger.

"Ah, crap. Not now." Oksana noted, looking to the rest, as Oksana's grandmother opened the door, the 80-something year old woman waving.

"Sanka, you were out so late! And who are your new friends?" Oksana looked up, the outside light illuminating all four of them....including a lion. For her, she'd lived such a life under the regime, at this point, she had given up even questioning why in the actual shit there was a lion. She'd seen enough repression that if she was going to be eaten by the lion, she'd probably just die of laughter there and then.

It was like Oksana's grandmother didn't even question it, as the lion slobbered like some dog, looking up, Oksana groaning.

"Fucking hell. Can you be normal and not starve? There is food in it if you do." Oksana whispered to him, as the lion half grunted, the blur almost like a piece of reality stopped existing for half a second and then it did where the lion was, a person seemed to appear.

"Dammit, that hurts. You have no idea how much it's shitty when I'm starved in that form. And this one." Felix replied quiet, as if his other form had kicked him out, and back to normality he was, as Oksana stepped forwards, dusting her feet off in the mud-trap brush at the base of the steps.

"Some other mercenaries. They're all friendly. Borys is Polavian, so you can..."

"Ah, he is so hungry that he is becoming a lion, he needs more food! And the short one too! All of you do!" She replied in perfect Polavian, as Oksana groaned, Felix chuckling (without realising Borys would have understood that joke), not even understanding any of it, but knowing they were absolutely, definitely being looked after here.

"Come on in! I have food already, it's been there for ages! You need to tell me when you bring friends, I would have prepared even more!" Oksana's grandmother replied, the elderly lady tiny, with glasses that looked like headlight bulbs, a wooden cane, and hair that had been grey since her 40s. Her grand-daughter coming home to spend time with her was of course, adorable, and well, not quite what the team would expect in "shit hit the fan, find a place to lay low".

She wasn't exactly taking no for an answer, and her poor English was no barrier to the team getting food, despite the fact they'd just been hunted by drunk locals and special forces wizards.

So, they all headed in, cleaning their shoes before they went in, and the scene cut wide to the house, the hours ticking forwards.

For a team being hunted, this was a strange stop to make. Not one they could easily just walk out of either now they were being fed whether they liked it or not.

---

Later....

Day 1: 21:21:42
Babuskha's House (Oksana's Grandmother)
Somewhere outside the village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Bellies: Full

Walking back out, the entire team groaned, even Felix, walking into the rainy dusk, the sun clear of the horizon and trees in the distance.
"How the hell did she make that much food? There's like, not enough pantry?" The Libolian asked, as if her getting his wish from earlier. He left a ton of it in a foil-wrapped parcel, for.....later.

Most cultures understood the common joke of going to grandparents and getting a full feed. But in Polavia, like a certain kind of culture it felt brought in by, that meant being fed kilo after kilo by grandparents. They wouldn't care how tall or short you were, how fat or thin you were, they would say you needed more food and they would for some reason, have it already on a stove so you couldn't just turn it down.

And no, you couldn't just say it was enough. That wasn't a craft, that was just how it went. The team could barely move, and if Felix even wanted to sort his other half's problem out, current him was five kilos heavier to care.

"Ey! I told you we would get a feed." Roxie replied, herself, feeling like nothing beat her food. Especially after a few shots of vodka, a proper feed was like methadone to a heroin addict. They all walked outside, the chat at dinner about how things were going, how they'd met, but more than anything, a bit of silence. They were sobering up far too early, and the team were together now, at least, outside of the chaotic start they'd gotten in the rural setting.

Flicking the halogen light on, the old aluminium-roofed barn had been an old, small cowshed, hay scattered where the old dairy cows had once sat, and a couple of tables for gunsmithing and iterating on their gear dragged all over the place. A place for the team to set up shop, with whatever they'd been carrying, whatever they'd scavenged, gotten from nearby. Space was limited inside the farmhouse, so Oksana and her grandmother had pulled out whatever quilts, hay, and gas heating that they could to keep them warm inside this makeshift FOB. She was currently carrying a massive stainless steel looking tank, with a tap at the bottom of it, and a pile of ceramic mugs.

"So, as I translated, our antics made it on local news. Fifteen injured, and rumours that at the centre of it, they're hunting not just one, but four foreign crafters. Police are already closing the gap. We can't go back in that way. And every road out is blocked with checkpoints, looking for foreigners now. So it's not great. And before anyone even asks, I do not trust the police. I have my reasons." Oksana translated what they'd watched earlier, but thought to repeat it, as she honed in on Big Cat Actual.

"Why are they are they after you, Felix? I can't read your mind. But I will tell whichever version of you decides to lie." The Polavian asked, as she slid into an overshirt given it was getting colder, picking up her PP-19, slapping a magazine inside, silencer attached, as she adjusted her setup. Better to have a gun now. She didn't want to sit here waiting, not with everything else going on.

"Of course I don't have any chance of telling fibs. They want me because I'm an officer, and they want higher ups in the company arrested. And, you'll never believe this, they never took me to account on what I did to that horse in the DSR. Why they went that full force, who knows. They seemed like they wanted something else too. Any of you lot up to no good?" Felix replied, setting down his equipment at a table, sighing. He knew the answer. It was yes, just in varying manners. He didn't, of course, know that Rowan had come close to toppling a terrifying nerve agent programme in Kalan, Keodis upsetting the applecart in Medil, and Borys? Throw a dart at any post-it with a sin on it, and he had done it.

"And why the hell did you throw a bottle at a local as our best chance? See that one through, because now that went from a raid, to an entire village getting into a fistfight?" Felix barbed, Oksana now on the defensive, flabbergasted.

"Oh, no worries Felix, thank me later for saving your ass. I did what was needed in that situation. So go fuck yourself after feeding you, getting you here, everything." She sighed, just exhausted to argue now. "There's nothing from me that a DSR team would want. Unless special forces want to revoke a visa with extreme prejudice." Oksana barbed back, Felix looking up as he threw down his plate carrier, sliding mags inside.

"They would have picked you up as well in that raid. Realised we're all linked, like it or not. Come back for seconds given half of Reactor is on a Deck of 52.....and that's now added to their board. We fight together or we die alone now. We'll need that. Rowan had a point about us all being here in the same place. Shit as it is. It's what we have." The Libolian reminded Oksana as she turned, as Felix loaded a magazine into the 417, the shortened battle rifle set up the way he liked it, and set it on the bench with the rest of his kit. Full tacticool. A sigh from the Polavian.

"Fine." Oksana didn't like the fact he was right. Nor the fact that it didn't change the facts of their situation. "I don't want us to stay here, hiding isn't going to help. But we can't take the roads. We need a plan." Oksana retorted.

"Have you got a map?" Felix asked, as Oksana pointed to the tourist map in the corner on another bench.

As if by demand, Felix was pacing over and peeling it out, pinning it onto the wall with a hammer and nail, unfurling it. "This'll do." He stepped back, a nearby marker pen making this all rather handy. He scrawled their location, triangulating it in.

"I love a good map. Okay. I'll have a think. So far, Keodis lost his armour because he sold it, we're all wanted now, and the DSR somehow want something to do with me, and maybe, soon you lot too. We need new papers, definitely. And I have a feeling we need to make that choice, tonight." Felix replied, Oksana sliding in a mug beneath the big Samovar tank, pouring out mint-looking tea, and shoving a few cups onto the table.

"Solid Friday. This shit's made out of nettles from the forest. Cure for insanity." Oksana quipped, sipping tea, the team getting a moment of reprieve, a moment to set themselves up, and get ready for what was to come.

"I have a handful of ideas on how we come back here. We're gonna need a shitload of glyphs. But I think we need to get out. Get a train. And get ourselves some answers." Felix noted, scribbling in the team on some nearby markers. Time to run this like an op.

"Rowan, think you might be able to batch up some glyph ink? We might need a fair chunk of it. I have something in mind. Your car and big cauldron might be stuck here, but....I think that DSR team reminded me, those extraction glyphs are some absolute bullshit that we need way, way more of. And some breaching ones to come with. Borys, think you can help her?" Felix asked, looking across, letting the chemical warfare witch get her setup. "Please. I know you're in no right to trust me after all that. But let's give ourselves a fighting chance, shall we?" Felix moved to the next, seeing the larger Medilan come through, no doubt feeling the hurt from the fight.

"Keodis, grab yourself some grenades. My supply is yours. You'll make more work with them. The M249 might not last long, so we might need to work out alternatives. Can you lend Oksana a hand with loading up our ammo?" The female Polavian grimaced, looking at Keodis, sighing.

"Fine. He can help." She replied, putting cup down, sliding one to him.

"Sorry about the comment earlier. I am...blunt. Just, it's a pain in the ass. You moved, didn't die, so it's all good. And, I enjoyed your pranks because it pissed people like Felix off." Oksana giggled to Keodis, sliding across a mag of Borys's, with bullets in a box and magazine to follow, setting up her own little station too.

The team were all together now, all gearing up, and it was an early morning rollout, so NVGs would be needed, as well as their limited array of kit as tactical wizards, witches and arcane specialists.

"Silas! Silas! Get your Lipolin ass up you fuck!" The voice is growly and honestly sounds like nails on a chalkboard. The kind of voice that is either a politician, a unloved teacher or a landlord. Depending on where you are could be two of the three at once or even all three. They aren't mutually exclusive. In this case Danov Kerril is the land owner on which the Clinic sits on. Normally he'd be speaking to the clinic director. But today he's bugging the squat looking dark haired olive skinned man who comes stumping down from a attic room. Silas looks slightly up at the man, and looks about to say something when Danov shoves a list into Silas' chest. Silas blinks. Then Danov growls. "Director Krenic says for you to do home visits." Silas sighs. Not even opening time and he's already been voluntold. With a nod he watch Danov limp off. Honestly wondering if he could just smack.the man upside the head, healing his hip and give him an up...nah not as fun this way. He checked the time and the list of visits. Of course the first one is across town and in less then 30.minutes. Gathering his medical bag and EMT gear he heads out. Silas has got alot to do today. He'd seen the last name though Babushka Oksana. Atleast his last visit will be nice.



The door swung open and the old lady looked up at Silas. She grinned. "Doctor Lipoli, Come to visit Grandma? Time for check up already?" She gave a dry cackle and turned waving Silas inside. He grinned, ever since he got here and took up Babushkas care she's always been a hoot. Arthritis, osteoporosis and other maladies but she still cackled with the best. And wasn't afraid to whack him if he was being stupid.

She sat at the table and placed her arm on it. "Come on then. Do your worst." Silas grinned.

So began her check up.



Silas is just packing up his kit when Babushka pats his arm, "You stay for dinner yes? Shanka be home soon. Say hi. Oh...maybe them now!" She shuffles to her feet. And goes to answer the door. That's when a whole gaggle of people enter moments later. He stares, looking shocked to see so many people come to visit the old lady. He stands there like a deer in the headlights.

Holy...he knows some of these people...at a distance anyway.

And thats why he tries to tug his shirt sleeve down over the Reactor undershirt he has on under his tan colored t shirt.

Silas coughs "Lots of guests there grandma." He calls, looking st the group. Oh yes he recognizes a few of them. And he recognizes the aftermath of a brawl, and a flight from something.

Great.

He takes a deep breath and begins to help set out the bowls, "Sure you're gonna have enough Babushka?" The old lady smacks him on the shoulder, "Plenty, sit, make friends. Silas works his jaw the does as hea told looking around at everyone. He chuckled, "So...what happened?"

And the explanation is a story.



Stepping outside with the group he hikes his medics bag up then turns "Keep up with your medicine." He waves her off as she cackles and raises the glass of whiskey she's sipping. "Yes that too. And if you need anything ask for Jadin At the clinic."

He's turning back to the group as they are arming up. "Alright, trust then...the lot of you are going to need a medic sooner or later. I never thought I'd be working with a Bunch of former Reactor again. But well why the hell not?"

Reaching into the crate he digs about. And soon finds a workable revolver something that fits his tastes and a decent scatter gun, nothing like the big KS23 he left behind...at the clinic with the remains if his Reactor gear. But he had his Hippocratic Oaths and his big Red Cross Club atleast. On top of his medics bag. He could do his job at least.

He slipped the knuckle dusters on, and took a deep breath as he could feel the magic swell, "Emmm thats nice." He mutters to himself mostly.

Day 1: 17:35:01
The World's End Pub
Village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Getting Wrecked

Rowan had headed towards her car. Her head swinging from one face to another as she ran past the drunks pouring out of the bar into the street. Her eyes searched for members of the team. She was disappointed as her car came into sight and none of them had yet appeared before her. She gritted her teeth. Her thoughts were flowing fast as she tried to decide what to do next. She knew that the special forces team had been after Borys but they had known who the rest of them were too. Granted they were not the brightest sparks in Reactor’s tool box. She refused to leave her car and all her gear behind. Maybe she could go back the other way and find them along the way.

About that time Oksana ran up, tapping the bonnet, sliding across it from where it was parked in the street and began babbling quickly.

Oksana: "My babushka....my grandmother, she can hide us, we're going to be hunted if we don't leave now! Let's grab the rest!"

Rowan frowned at Oksana and yelled at her out of habit. “Oiy! Watch the paint!”

About that time the sound of sirens could be heard getting closer. Rowan unlocked the driver’s side door of her Mercedes and climbed into the driver’s seat. She hit the unlock button so Oksana could get in.

Rowan rolled her eyes as Oksana literally yelled out “Shotgun!”

Rowan thought to herself. Like she had any competition for the front seat. Rowan was sure as hell not going to trust her to drive her car at this point.

The engine kicked over with a familiar growl. She threw the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. Oksana found her Mossberg where she had hidden in between the front seats. She didn’t mind that. It would free her up to just drive. Rowan flipped a U-turn knowing the team was not in the direction she was heading. She turned the car to head back towards the bar. “I am assuming the rest of them are this way.” She let Oksana give her directions back to where the others were.

Rowan had floored the gas pedal and laid on the horn to move people out of her path. She smiled as drunks began jumping out of her way as she flew past the pub. You could still see the smoke from the special forces team bug out glyphs as she went by. Rowan laughed as she saw Felix turn into a lion and chase after a machete carrying Polavian drunk. She snickered at the men who would have to share a backseat with Felix. A better question was how they were going to coax him into the backseat. Her amusement faded at that question as Felix shifted back. She slid to a stop next to the men. “Did someone call for a taxi? I charge extra if you get mud and fur on my seats!”

She took off just as fast after the men had clambered inside. She drove away from the pub area as quickly as possible following Oksana’s directions.

---

Day 1: 18:01:42...
Oksana's Babuskha's House (Oksana's Grandmother)
Somewhere outside the village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Blood Alcohol Levels: Questionable

Get Breaded

Soundtrack: Lilly Allen - F*ck You Very Very Much

They eventually stopped at a small rural Polavian farm. Rowan slowly climbed out of the car. She could see why Oksana thought they could lie low here. Rowan closed her car door and leaned back against it. Rowan was already making plans to sleep in her car. She would not be sleeping in the animal scented barn. She tried hard and failed to have a grateful smile on her face. Her nose wrinkled at the scent of a working farm which was animals and all the things that came with them. Rowan was not ashamed to admit she was a city girl who liked modern conveniences. She looked around at the rural farm and couldn’t help thinking “fuck my life.” This is not how she wanted to live her life.

Rowan raised an eyebrow as she saw Felix come running out of the forest in his lion form laden with supplies and packs. The lion gave an odd sort of guttural sound that sounded more like a moan. Her attention was pulled to Oksana who was also looking at Felix when she said "Ah, crap. Not now."

Then the front door of the little hut opened and who she assumed was Oksana’s grandmother opened the door. The woman was waving and looked to be in her eighties. She called out, "Sanka, you were out so late! And who are your new friends?"

Rowan was amused that the grandmother didn’t bat an eye at the gun toting laden Lion or the big burly men accompanying Oksana. Nor did she question why a car was sitting outside her house. Felix was huffing and drooling like a dog.

Oksana whispered something to Felix and he transformed back into his human self.

Felix began grumbling. "Dammit, that hurts. You have no idea how much it's shitty when I'm starved in that form. And this one."

Oksana led the way to the steps of the hut where she brushed off her feet as she spoke to her grandmother. Oksana: "Some other mercenaries. They're all friendly. Borys is Polavian, so you can..."

Oksana’s grandmother replied in Polavian. "Ah, he is so hungry that he is becoming a lion, he needs more food! And the short one too! All of you do!"

Rowan chuckled as she understood what the grandmother had said. She had purchased a spell scroll that would teach her Polavian before she left the DSR. She knew she would need to understand the language while on the run in the country or if she ended up staying in the country.

The grandmother invited them in for a meal. "Come on in! I have food already, it's been there for ages! You need to tell me when you bring friends, I would have prepared even more!"

Rowan reluctantly followed the group inside. She could use a good meal but felt like she was taking advantage of Oksana’s grandmother. She studied the elderly lady. She was tiny, with glasses that looked like headlight bulbs, a wooden cane, and hair that had been grey since her 40s. It was clear she was delighted to see her granddaughter.

Rowan made sure to clean her muddy boots on the brush mat at the door for that purpose. She didn’t want to cause the grandmother any additional work. The elderly lady immediately led them into a tiny kitchen and began to hand them food and drinks. She seemed to ignore any protest and just thrust bowls and cups into hands with a smile.

Later....

Day 1: 21:21:42
Babuskha's House (Oksana's Grandmother)
Somewhere outside the village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Bellies: Full

Rowan groaned as her stomach warned her that expelling food would happen if she tried to eat or drink anything else. She had tried to stop multiple times and somehow found herself taking another bite after a pointed look from the grandmother.

Felix was the first to comment after they had left the hut on their way to the barn."How the hell did she make that much food? There's like, not enough pantry?"

Oksana replied "Ey! I told you we would get a feed."

Rowan giggled as she patted her stomach. “If I fall down, just roll me. I don’t think I would be able to get back up. Nice to meet you over dinner Silas.”

Rowan had been convinced to give the barn a try. It would be very cold tonight and they had some gas heaters for the barn. Rowan had sighed as she turned over her choices. She had finally sighed and decided she might as well go all in. She would work off some of this food as she emptied most of the back up supplies that were in her trunk. She had carried it in and put it on one of the tables. There were duffle bags, plastic storage tubs, and cardboard boxes. Her cauldron and other assorted craft items made it onto a table.

They walked the rest of the way in silence to the barn. Rowan looked around as the halogen light came on. The old aluminium-roofed barn had been an old, small cowshed, hay scattered where the old dairy cows had once sat, and a couple of tables for gunsmithing and iterating on their gear dragged all over the place. A place for the team to set up shop, with whatever they'd been carrying, whatever they'd scavenged, gotten from nearby. Space was limited inside the farmhouse, so Oksana and her grandmother had pulled out whatever quilts, hay, and gas heating that they could to keep them warm inside this makeshift FOB. She was currently carrying a massive stainless steel looking tank, with a tap at the bottom of it, and a pile of ceramic mugs.

Oksana began to talk as they settled onto stools and chairs around the various tables. "So, as I translated, our antics made it on local news. Fifteen injured, and rumours that at the centre of it, they're hunting not just one, but four foreign crafters. Police are already closing the gap. We can't go back in that way. And every road out is blocked with checkpoints, looking for foreigners now. So it's not great. And before anyone even asks, I do not trust the police. I have my reasons."

Oksana turned her attention to Felix and asked the question they all wanted answered. "Why are they are they after you, Felix? I can't read your mind. But I will tell whichever version of you decides to lie."

Felix answered her query, "Of course I don't have any chance of telling fibs. They want me because I'm an officer, and they want higher ups in the company arrested. And, you'll never believe this, they never took me to account on what I did to that horse in the DSR. Why they went that full force, who knows. They seemed like they wanted something else too. Any of you lot up to no good?"

Felix sounded defensive as he poked Oksana verbally. "And why the hell did you throw a bottle at a local as our best chance? See that one through, because now that went from a raid, to an entire village getting into a fistfight?"

Oksana fired back at Felix. Rowan felt as if she was watching a verbal tennis match as they argued like siblings tossing verbal barbs back and forth. Oksana began by pushing the team towards a plan.

Rowan agreed with Oksana “I agree we need a plan. We can’t just hide here. They will eventually come here and it is not fair to Oksana’s grandmother. She should not pay for our issues.”

Rowan frowned as Oksana said they couldn’t use the roads. “I don’t agree with that. Why can’t we take the roads? They will be watching the train stations as well. It would be easier to have our own transportation and I have a car. It blends in well here. We have ways of changing our appearance. Why not use the roads?”

She waited for a good counter argument as Felix asked for a map and Oksana produced a tourist map of the area. Rowan growled, not happy as they were still planning to ditch her car. She would have to leave most of what she brought with her behind. The whole reason she brought her car was to be able to carry more of her things. She still didn’t agree with the plan. No one had given her a good reason to do it their way. She kind of got where Felix was going. She relented a little but was still not happy. She had not shared everything in her car with them yet.

Rowan gave Felix a dirty look. “Oh you want a big batch of spell ink. You know what I use that big cauldron for… you know the one you want me to leave behind! If I have to leave all my gear here, I won’t be able to set up a still to provide Borys with alcohol either. Fuck you Felix!”

She left cursing their stupidity as she wandered out into the forest to gather some local supplies. She didn’t want to eat into her stores and there was a whole forest just outside the door to gather in. She left as he was rambling on about glyphs. The idiot forgot the part that glyphs were most commonly inked onto paper. Sure she could make the ink. Did anyone have a supply of paper other than her. Probably not. Rowan’s mind kept up her mental rant as she began to gather bark from trees, roots, herbs, mushrooms, and a variety of other things from the forest around the farm.

Rowan came back inside the barn and set up her large cauldron. She organized all the supplies she had brought in from the car. She began to brew up a cauldron full of spell ink. She began chopping items, grinding them in her mortal pestle. She used her wand to add water to the large cast iron pot. With her wand she heated the mixture carefully so as not to set the table on fire. She was careful with the temperature as she applied her will to the contents of the pot. The ink for the travel glyphs to bring them back to the farm would be more powerful and accurate for using natural items found around the area to help the glyph target the area more easily. It would simplify the glyph needed and allow them to make plenty of them. She left the batch of glyph ink to condense as she turned her thoughts to other concerns.

She began organizing other gear from the car as she thought through her options. If they were going to use the grandmother’s farm as a home base for their activity, they needed to lay some wards around to protect it. Oksana’s grandmother deserved to be compensated and warned about what she was being pulled into. Rowan was reluctant to part with her stash of supplies and money. She had no idea how long it would be before she would be able to replace some of it. Her little green hoard monster reared its ugly head. She fought it back with the thought that sometimes money was a tool. She had to let go of the comforts she enjoyed and embrace the reality of a life on the run. She damn well better get the opportunity to enjoy a bubble bath when they make it to a bigger city or they would be hell to pay! She opened one of the heavy duty duffle bags from her car. Stacked inside it was cash and some gold bars. She then organized the ammo for her guns. She looked around at the rest of the team going about their tasks. She sighed it was time to come clean.

Rowan sighed as she started the conversation. If they were going to work together they needed to have all the facts. Secrets like these could cause trouble down the road. “Have any of you seen the news about what is happening in Kalan?” She paused a minute looking at each of them before continuing. “My team was sent into Kalan to neutralize a mind control nerve agent. We accomplished the mission but were caught on camera as we were leaving. Reactor disavowed us and only a few of our members made it out of the country. I have a whole damn country baying for my head. Reactor left us high and dry. The DSR issued an arrest warrant wanting to know more information about what happened. Kalan was accusing us of being DSR agents even though it was Reactor who sent us. Although I believe it is more to tie off loose ends as I believe Reactor was the stalking horse for the DSR on this issue. That is why I am here in Polavia on the run. I thought they were there for me, not Felix until the dweeb started monologuing. I think the DSR is trying to hunt down anyone of leadership from Reactor that they can get their hands on. The question is why? They are hunting for information about something. If we are going to use the grandmother’s farm as a base of operations, then she should be warned and given as much protection as we can give her before we take off. If I am leaving my stuff here, I want to be reasonably sure it will be here when I get back. Understood!? I have some cash and gold I kept at my apartment before I ran. I also have a variety of ammo for the Mossberg and my pistol. Felix, I also have some snacks if you would like some of them. If you can give me some time, I can whip up some potions for everyone. I can make potions that make people want to look away, change our appearance, illusions, heal, and more. I just need to know what kind of potions you think we might need. If I have the ingredients and time, I can do it before we leave. I am a city girl. I like my comforts and I am not going to apologize for that. So get used to me being grumpy. I don’t like the dirt, mud, great outdoors, and creepy crawlies.”

Day 1: 17:35:01
The World's End Pub
Village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

---

“Take the next left, then stop when you see a blue house.” Borys guided Rowan down an even crappier-looking street than the one before. If Polavia looked poor to outside observers, this place looked poor to Polavians. When Rowan stopped the car in front of the indicated building, Borys got out and hopped the fence, leaving the car’s other passengers to be stared down by a woman sitting behind one of the windows.

A backpack appeared, thrown haphazardly over the fence, followed by a ballistic vest, a gas mask case, a baseball bat, an AK with a shovel handle for a stock and a spare pair of running shoes. Then some angry Polavian yelling, Borys’ and another man’s voice clueing the other ex-reactor operators in to the fact that the owner of the goat pen Borys had been squatting in saw him even without understanding the language, just as a dull thud that ended the shouting match indicated one of them used a traditional Polavian countryside argument to end the shouting match.

An unpunched Borys hopping the fence back to the street - carrying a whole wall mirror for some reason - likely didn’t come as a surprise. Well, the mirror probably did.

---

Day 1: 18:01:42...
Oksana's Babuskha's House (Oksana's Grandmother)
Somewhere outside the village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Blood Alcohol Levels: Questionable

---

“And they said I was difficult to work with.” Borys rolled his eyes in Felix’ direction, offering a polite greeting in Polavian to Oksana’s grandmother when the old lady acknowledged their presence before translating what she said to the rest of the team.

The squat operator was the third one in right after Oksana and her grandmother, cleaning his shoes meticulously before setting foot inside and following the old woman into the kitchen. Anyone who - frankly, understandably - assumed the uncouth drunk was rushing to secure the best portion would soon witness the serving speed of a Polavian babushka with people to feed and a Polavian hick who would sooner be sober than make such a kind old woman lift such a heavy pot, by this point having enough ethanol in his bloodstream he could simply pick up the scalding hot steel pot with his bare hands like it was a basket of flowers and not feel a thing.

”Lots of guests there grandma. Sure you're gonna have enough Babushka?”

“Of course. Any Polavian grandmother will always have en- Wait, Doc Silas? With the smooth homebrew?” Borys finally put the face to a name in his mind, immediately piling half an extra portion onto his favorite Libolian’s plate.

---

Day 1: 21:21:42
Babuskha's House (Oksana's Grandmother)
Somewhere outside the village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Bellies: Full

---

”How the hell did she make that much food? There's like, not enough pantry?”

Borys was the last to leave the house, flicking dirty dish water off his hands even as he did. “Old magic of Polavian hedge witches. Every pantry door is a portal to an extradimensional space.” Borys answered Felix, 100 percent bullshitting but with a completely straight face, “They really didn’t feed us well at Reactor, I’d fallen out of practice.” He huffed as he slumped in a seat in the barn, listening to the bickering.

”And why the hell did you throw a bottle at a local as our best chance?”

“Becasue she knows how Polavia works. You tourists don’t, contrary to most DSR folk thinking you ate all of the world’s wisdom.” Borys offered a simpler explanation for the seer’s seemingly perplexing actions. “Good thing, too. If the raiding team bothered to think instead of assuming they were hot shit, we’d be in deep shit.”

Giving a half-assed salute to Felix as a semblance of a plan was put together, Borys turned to Rowan. “What do you ne-?”

”Oh you want a big batch of spell ink. You know what I use that big cauldron for… you know the one you want me to leave behind! If I have to leave all my gear here, I won’t be able to set up a still to provide Borys with alcohol either. Fuck you Felix!”

“Easy, easy. He may be dense enough to sink in pools, but he’s from Liboli, it’s not his fault. He wants a big batch now to cover for the possible absence of the cauldron later.” He tried to calm Rowan down a bit.

“Like it or not we’ve been seen together, by now we’re all on the list, if for no other reason than to prevent us from helping him. So we either put the cat in a carrier crate and mail him express back to DSR, or we figure out how to live together until this bullshit blows over. And the former is snitching bitch behavior and thus not an option.” He declared with the finality of someone who has been through a Polavian prison and had their code of conduct hammered into his mind, “I agree we should move out of here. If Harry Whatshisface is willing to raid a pub in broad daylight, he’d turn Maria Denisovna’s house into splinters without a second thought.”

Day 1: 21:32:05
Babuskha's House (Oksana's Grandmother)
Somewhere outside the village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Magazines: Loaded

The presence of Silas was a surprise to Oksana. She'd seen him in the local clinic, but a homevisit? Babushka, you had to tell me!- she thought to herself. But, he knew what he was doing. And despite his craft requiring violence, Babushka hadn't seemed to complain. Even if his was more related to trauma, it did wonders for the hip, it sounded like. And that put him in her good books, the one Libolian she could trust.

He's turning back to the group as they are arming up. "Alright, trust then...the lot of you are going to need a medic sooner or later. I never thought I'd be working with a Bunch of former Reactor again. But well why the hell not?"

"Never thought I'd see you treating my grandmother. Without consent. But because it's you. And only you. Thanks." Oksana chirped, her look not of a smile but of a blunt instrument, the fact it wasn't a threat showing in her Polavian way, she appreciated him.

"I might need to talk to you later, got some odd requests, but....nothing urgent. You good? Up to what we're in for? Despite our supposed chief being a difficult bastard?" The Polavian added, keeping that light in touch, knowing it was best not to make too big of a deal of her certain use.

Meanwhile, Felix had pissed off Rowan.

Not surprisingly.

Rowan gave Felix a dirty look. “Oh you want a big batch of spell ink. You know what I use that big cauldron for… you know the one you want me to leave behind! If I have to leave all my gear here, I won’t be able to set up a still to provide Borys with alcohol either. Fuck you Felix!”

The door may as well have slammed, as Felix looked on, Rowan leaving scene fast.
"For fuck's sake, Rowan, thin....ah, dammit." The shapeshifter exclaimed, watching her head out. With a sack for collecting items from the forest at least.

"How did you become an officer again?" Oksana asked, as Felix chuckled, shaking his head. Not a great start.

"Against my better judgement." The reply was laconic, as he sighed, looking across to Borys, trying to calm her down, but that coming slow.

“Easy, easy. He may be dense enough to sink in pools, but he’s from Liboli, it’s not his fault. He wants a big batch now to cover for the possible absence of the cauldron later.” He tried to calm Rowan down a bit.

“Like it or not we’ve been seen together, by now we’re all on the list, if for no other reason than to prevent us from helping him. So we either put the cat in a carrier crate and mail him express back to DSR, or we figure out how to live together until this bullshit blows over. And the former is snitching bitch behavior and thus not an option.” He declared with the finality of someone who has been through a Polavian prison and had their code of conduct hammered into his mind, “I agree we should move out of here. If Harry Whatshisface is willing to raid a pub in broad daylight, he’d turn Maria Denisovna’s house into splinters without a second thought.”

Felix appreciated the assist, though he knew it wouldn't help Rowan's scowl. Nor Oksana's.

"She'll be fine. She survived eighty years of oppression. They'll get their ears talked off. And Rowan is only getting supplies." Oksana almost barked, defensive in a way, as if to deflect her own thoughts. "But wards are a good idea. Don't plant them too obviously. Brings more attention." Oksana looked to Rowan, her Polavian demeanour completely the opposite of perhaps the excited, manic DSR native. They had more work to do. Felix had more planning. And he scribbled more. Crafts, vessels, weapons, abilities, knowns. That much he could draw from what he roughly knew. Oksana had the rest of her ghillie to put together, and big 7.62mm rounds to chamber into magazines.

And a microdose of ketamine, through an inhaler she'd kept, taken quietly on the side. That bar fight had affected her far worse than she wanted to admit. She'd controlled it, but at one point, she was pretty sure she saw Rowan come in with a pitchfork and hit Borys with it while in here. She said nothing. She saw shit like this all the time, Roxie was now frankly used to hallucinating with this many visions in front of her, triggering when she tapped into it. But the involuntary stuff, while it was nowhere near as bad, flared in trauma.

She had taken a lot on, but that fight or flight, whatever it was, maybe the interference, it did something. When time stopped, she still kept seeing, and it hurt like hell. Disassociated her. The ket brought her back, the opposite of what it did to anyone recreationally taking it.

Like any bad dream, you knew it wasn't real when certain details could be spotted that weren't quite right, like Borys bleeding out.

Drugs it was, but a teeny sample, enough to keep her back in check for at least whatever happened then. Back to faraway combat, she'd be happier.

Felix looked to Borys in the meantime, sighing, thinking about what he'd said earlier on that comment. The Polavian was mildly drunk, but, he wasn't holding back his tongue. He had a point. If the team were competent, they'd have done some seriously dark shit. Felix would have made a scene of it. Eaten anyone that didn't comply. Got the result. They were too slow, too sensitive. That was where Felix knew he differed at least. You put your own at risk not going all the way.

---

Looking across the team, Felix looked to the board, Rowan coming back in with supplies. She'd calmed down, and come back in, dragging and making the cauldron quietly scream into stone.

Rowan sighed as she started the conversation. If they were going to work together they needed to have all the facts. Secrets like these could cause trouble down the road. ......So get used to me being grumpy. I don’t like the dirt, mud, great outdoors, and creepy crawlies.”

"You picked the wrong country, Morgana." Oksana added, thinking about her other phrase. "I could use some healing potions to top up my stash where internals are concerned, and Silas can't fix us. And I agree, leaving is a good idea." Oksana endeared herself a little to Rowan. She was feisty, wild. She had heard the stories, despite her being a resolute, genius of a chemical weapons expert, she knew how to hold herself in a fight. A classic witch, but one that took no shit given the situations she ended up in. She liked that plenty. Oksana respected it, because she said it how it was.

The Polavian turned to the Libolian, ready to go. "Felix, gameplan?" The taller Libolian was in the midst of something else with Rowan, before turning.

"Changing appearance is a nice trick, but, shit hallucinates like an AI bot done wrong. Anti-surveillance would be handy. That one, that is some proper, proper bullshit. Keeps us off CCTV, and we'll need that in urban areas. Then brew something for yourself, Rowan, plenty of non lethals, if we run into people we don't want to kill. And of course, acid for everyone else. You're into chemical warfare, right? I'm sure you have something up your sleeve." Felix replied, knowing that bridge was hard to mend, but Oksana butted in.

"If you don't like here, you might enjoy Novy Jork. It has culture. Sights to see. But is very expensive now. Seriously. Tourism killed it. Borys is almost right there." Oksana added, as she hucked over her ghillie, sleeves on, before drawing the bush from her head, keeping it like a hood, the Druid Scout Sniper less like a typical witch with less of a hat, and more of a hooded, cloak-and-dagger kinda druid if she ever had to be one. The hood had two bits- one that entirely covered her head, and another that gave her a bush. It saved a balaclava, which Roxie wasn't a massive fan of. She had a GPNVG set in a frame on her stubby wool hat, the moving bush that gently blended into everything she stepped on appearing to have glowing green eyes. That was some Druid drip.

She looked across to Borys, the the Polavian taller than her male counterpart, cracking a chuckle.
"You drunk bastard. Can't believe you agreed with me earlier. You really are cased." She broke an actual smile, walking across and casually picking up his AK, rotating it around, before passing it over. The stock being a shovel was enough to break her into a full grin. From her usually stoic demeanour, that was something.

"Seems like you maybe shouldn't gamble though. You need a coffee before your drunk ass falls over. I left hot water and a compress there. Felix might need some too. Or he will pass out. By the by." She mentioned, leaning in, walking past, eyes gently cloudy. "For some reason, I think we might be even soon. Just popped into my head. Or, maybe that's me tripping on shit." She added, cryptic, perhaps almost as if she wanted to get that strange thought out of her head. Or the ketamine was still settling.

Felix on the other hand kept his hoodie on, stubbed bobbled grey wool wizard's hat on, that felt like it almost made his vessels almost activate better. Looking good, feeling good. Rifle on plate carrier, he was arguably the most tactical looking of the bunch, gloves on, and looking across to the team. The only thing he was missing was wrap-around sunglasses, but he preferred to keep lower profile. Nothing screamed "man who turned into lion", bar the patch on his tactical hoodie. Of what looked like a sketched out lion's head.

If some had a sign for what blood group there were, the lion indicated "Shapeshifter", just in case someone picked his body up and then absolutely pissed themselves when a lion appeared. He'd needed that after the second time he turned and nearly got shot. He didn't really need NVGs, given his senses in his other form carried over fairly well, making his sight in the dark about six times better (three in human form) than most, and his hearing, when tuned, absolutely sharp as a nail. Though no high pitch noises, were preferred.

Cue a little montage.

A bit crap, really, because it had no glitz and glamour, it felt more grindhouse, more B-Movie than it did refined. Among hay bales, halogen light, a team slowly came together.

---

After plenty more rigging, crafting, gearing up, the team were ready for an impromptu brief.

The main reason why was because the big tank of herbal tea was now empty, with mugs in everyone's hands, a cigarette in Felix's hand, his old habit dying hard.

"I don't start briefs with apologies. But sorry you've been dragged into this mess. I'll get you out of it, at least. Got plenty of reasons to. Oksana is our local. She's sober, and she can see into the future. Borys is your secondary translator. For pastoral support, see Silas. He might hit you over the head to help." Felix was a bit dry in his humour, but dry generally. But, he held it together at least, as Oksana looked over at him, from the pallets she sat on.

"And this is going to be boring." Oksana replied, Felix going nowhere today.

"Come on. Fuck's sake."

"Okay. I can hear you like, infinitely though. I can't do briefs. Tell me who to kill, where and when."

"Ah."

"Yeah, foresight is a bitch."

"Could you just like, nod?"

"Sure. Papers, Please. Felix, continue." Oksana replied, knowing she'd have to grit her teeth through this one. At least she was slightly drugged up. She'd be fucking hallucinating all sorts of bullshit if she was this bored. And that was a sniper talking boredom. She could sit in a hole for ten hours, drift her mind to.....not her past, but something nice, but briefs? She hoped she didn't fall asleep.

"Okay. So, I suggest we get papers, Oksana makes a point. She has a contact in Novy Jork, and he knows the undereworld well. That gives us a shot to at least blend in and relocate, put distance between us and the team, maybe, if we're lucky, get false identities to go home. Or find other mercenary work. You shouldn't have to deal with my bullshit, but if you get cut loose, go it alone and that team go after you.....you all know the game from SERE. I don't think they will fuck up that bad again." Felix looked to the group, knowing Rowan was about to chirp in.

"And I get it. Driving would be easier with spells changing us. But we're too many for the car, and one ward-carrying cop, and we are screwed. But we need to check our situation to see if we can salvage it. There's a ridgeline in the forest where it looks like we can get an overview on Pristupin. Get an idea of how much police there is. I didn't come here to kill innocent people. But if we have to, if fired upon, shoot back."

"Or if you find former Security Apparatus, shoot on sight."

"Thanks, Roxie."

"No worries! Glory to the Polavian People's Republic!" Oksana sarcastically chirped with an old slogan, looking to Felix again.

This was fucking infuriating to him. But the team might have been amused.

"Indeed. The alternative exfil, if the place is swarming- is we have to get out of the net, is the train network. Which doesn't stop for man or beast, Partisans, anyone. Our access is located three klicks here. Koley Trainyard, through the forest which keeps us out of thermals and out of sight. A boneyard, but, it's on a corner of the main line, so trains slow down. Enough for us to catch a lift. And get to where we need, out of where we are currently being looked for by at least two, possibly three, different agencies." Felix pointed, the black line going all the way down to the city.

Oksana was blunt in reply. "Full of Albani Mafiya, kurwa. Backed by hired goons from the Security Apparatus that are drunk on power from ten years ago are there. It's why trains are a sham. And Rowan is right. We can't exactly catch an Intercity at Kralovec South." Oksana chirped in, Felix nodding.

"That's why. Enemy of our enemy isn't our friends. And I'm not looking at second class. We find a freight train rolling past, and get on it. Sneak past the people running the place and, or, zero anyone we find that stops us. We're all running craft. That isn't normal for a Reactor detachment. Gives us a lot more of an edge now than we had before when it was one apiece. So that gives us plenty more balance in a fight. Silas heals, Borys can take bullets when he's fucked up, Rowan just hurls alkaline at people, and Keodis seems to just make shit blow up more than usual." Felix added, making a valid point there, Oksana agreeing at least on that one, continuing.

"Oksana, you know the contact?"

"I'll get you there, I know how to find him. Pale Pavel's gone up in the world, apparently. But only once we're through, I'll come home once the papers are done. You'll need some money. You all have cash?"

"DSR Dollars enough?"

"They'll do."

"Perfect. Last thing. Rowan's got us some extract glyphs. Limited in supply. But they come back here, max range, Novy Jork. Means we can resupply, Rowan can cook up more potions, and Silas can...do whatever he does with skulls these days. Oksana's put a fairly chunky illusion spell inside here so any visitors won't see this apart from us."

Oksana winked to Rowan, waving her PB in one hand, Marlborough Gold cigarette in other.
"That one isn't just in Wiz-Tac." She smirked, inhaling a deep bit of cig, before looking to Felix.

"Ready in five, team. Everyone, set comms. We'll head east and start this merry fucking adventure." He sarcastically called to the team, knowing that barely recovered from a drinking session, they were off to go do some recon by fire. Find out their situation. And packed up, as much gear as they could carry in tactical packs, rifles in hands, they were prepared to walk into the big, dark, gloomy Polavian, pine woods, trees swaying in the breeze, the moss like carpet against pinecones and sticks of wood.

Behind the clouds, an infinite, endless ocean of stars, the crescent moon, and the silouette of tactical wizards on the move.

(Post under edits, I did an oopsie)

Day 1: 21:32:05
Babuskha's House (Oksana's Grandmother)
Somewhere outside the village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Magazines: Loaded

Soundtrack: Queen- Under Pressure

Rowan had snapped at Felix and left without letting him get a word in. She had taken off outside to gather the ingredients she would need to speed up the process for a location glyph to the farm. Felix’s plan had angered her to think she had to leave what little she had managed to save from her old life behind. He didn’t even ask or discuss any other options. That was the part that pissed her off the most. She felt he had not even considered any other ideas or plans for moving forward. Borys had tried to jump in and calm her down but her temper was already activated and she was not in the mood to listen.

---

Rowan had calmed down as she worked. It helped her work out her annoyance as she pounded the bark into powder and chopped roots and mushrooms. She had stacked some stones as a base for her cauldron and then used her wand to control the temperature and fire under the large cauldron. It was excellent at producing an even heat which was so important to potion making. It was nice and sturdy and already tuned to her mana. Her large cauldron was familiar and comfortable. She knew how far she could push her efforts with it. The spell ink was coming along and the large caldron would reduce the ink to a batch big enough to produce maybe two travel glyphs each. She left the spell ink to condense into a final usable product. She left the ink boiling as she began to organize the supplies she had brought in from the car.

She laid out the boxes of spices and food that she had brought with her. She had two boxes of granola bars and protein bars. There were 20 bars in each box. Some of the cooking spices were useful as spell components; she had already arranged them next to the cauldron in order of how often she used them in her potions. Next to the potions she arranged the clear partitioned Tupperware boxes that held various spell components. They snapped into a case with a handle on them. There was not much of each but there was a decent variety. It wouldn’t last her long but she had enough to make some potions for the team before she would need to worry about replacing them. Rowan had already made her decision to join them. It was not like the DSR or Reactor wouldn’t know where to find her now. She was pretty sure someone on the bumbling special forces team recognized their former colleagues. She sighed as she knew that her anger wasn’t really directed at Felix but more at the situation she found herself in. She was smart enough to recognize the real reason she was angry but petty enough to snarl and make her displeasure known to the world. She had hoped that her situation would resolve soon and she would get to go back to her comfortable city life. It was sinking in that she was stuck here in Polavia. She needed to start making plans to get comfortable here. Her original thought was still solid. There was some safety and comfort in numbers. She opened the duffle bag that was stuffed with stacks of DSR money with some smaller gold bars. She then gave her story to the others.

Oksana:"You picked the wrong country, Morgana."

Rowan: “Please see my previous answer. I am being hunted by the DSR and Reactor to be their escape goat I think. I didn’t have a lot of options. Polavia was closer.” She shrugged.

Oksana asked her for healing potions. She listened as Felix gave her some suggestions for potions to work on, acid, non lethal deterrents, and anti-surveillance, and changing appearance potions. “I will see what I have the materials for.”

Oksana: "If you don't like here, you might enjoy Novy Jork. It has culture. Sights to see. But is very expensive now. Seriously. Tourism killed it. Borys is almost right there."

Rowan sighed knowing her temper had Oksana sharing this little nugget of knowledge. “I am not dead set on a city so much as a comfortable place to sleep that is clean, has modern plumbing and a lack of nasty smells.”

Rowan continued to set out her gear. She organized the specialized ammo she had for her pistol and the Mossberg shotgun. Her broom was leaning against the edge of the table. She looked up at Oksana as she mentioned getting Borys sober. She laughed and pointed to the large can of coffee and a variety of teas that had accompanied her food selection. She wondered where the others had gone off to while she was working on potions. Someone had asked about using the car. She had absentmindedly agreed and tossed the keys up in the air. She wasn't certain who had asked but meh. They would be back.

Oksana: "Seems like you maybe shouldn't gamble though. You need a coffee before your drunk ass falls over. I left hot water and a compress there. Felix might need some too. Or he will pass out.”

Rowan smiled at Oksana. “I might be able to help you with that. I have coffee if you want to brew some. I even have some sugar. No cream though.”

Rowan went back to organizing all her supplies so the others could see what was there and could ask for what they needed. She was willing to share. She had resolved herself to the necessity of leaving the bulk of her gear behind. So she put herself in mission prep mode and did what she could.

Once the spell ink was done she poured it into larger potion bottles and passed it off to Felix. She then used her broom to clean out the remains of the spell ink so she could start working on the other potions she had been asked for. She had limited spell components so she started with the more beneficial ones first. She made a small batch of minor healing potions. She made enough for everyone to get one. She used some of the stuff she collected in the woods to supplement what spell components she brought with her. She made 10 acid potions, 10 minor electric shock potions, and a change appearance potion for everyone; they only lasted about an hour though. She combined some ingredients from the electric shock potion with some spell components like stainless steel scrubbing pads she pulled apart and dropped in along with a battery. She concentrated and applied her mana to the potion, she hoped it worked as she bottled up what she hoped would be a good anti-surveillance potion that would tackle electronic surveillance in an area of effect attack. She was getting tired by now. She had been pushing her mana. Luckily she had a little recovery time between potions. Her last batch of potion would affect the people in a small area. It would create a gas that would confuse them and make them temporarily forget what they saw. When she finished she explained to Felix what they did. Then she went to get some sleep. She was so tired that the dirt and smell didn’t register anymore.

---

Rowan was grateful her headache was gone and she felt more clear headed after waking up. She went outside and used her wand to clean up. It was never the same as hot water but a cleanliness spell would work in a pinch. Was it vain and a waste of mana, maybe for others but it was necessary for her. She went to her car and pulled out her tactical gear. She changed into it and repacked her tactical backpack to include a change of clothes. She might need something less military tactical to enter a populated area. She joined the others inside. She brewed herself a cup of her special tea. It was a custom blend she had put together herself. She had a stainless steel tea infuser in her gear. It would help energize her and give her a slight buff to replacing mana faster. She sipped her tea as Felix began his briefing.

Rowan hid a smile behind her mug as Oksana basically told Felix to skip the briefing and tell them the plan. She paid attention as Felix suggested they should travel to Novy Jork to meet up with an underworld representative that Oksana knew that could help them get new papers. Rowan was amused when Felix seemed to direct the next part of the conversation towards her.

Felix: "And I get it. Driving would be easier with spells changing us. But we're too many for the car, and one ward-carrying cop, and we are screwed. But we need to check our situation to see if we can salvage it. There's a ridgeline in the forest where it looks like we can get an overview on Pristupin. Get an idea of how much police there is. I didn't come here to kill innocent people. But if we have to, if fired upon, shoot back."

Rowan calmly replied to Felix “I concede the necessity to use Babushka’s farm as a homebase for now.” She looked over to Oksana. “I warded certain parts of the farm to warn us if Babushka has uninvited company. I moved and hid the car in the forest behind the barn. I used my broom to clear away the tracks. Stacked some brush around it to make it look like an overgrown thorn bush thicket. Hopefully that will deter anyone from finding it. It should work on most people.” Rowan shrugged noncommittally. The others might not care about warding Babushka’s property but Rowan was leaving the bulk of her belongings behind. She would like to retrieve them at some point.

Oksana: "Or if you find former Security Apparatus, shoot on sight."

Rowan sipped her tea before asking Oksana. “How do we recognize the former Security Apparatus in Polavia?” Rowan thought she knew the answer but was curious how Oksana would answer. Besides one of the others might need to know the answer. She found the other woman’s humor compatible with her own. She found her amusing and liked her sass.

Rowan grinned as she noted Felix’s growing irritation with Oksana. She looked over at Oksana who appeared to be somewhat high. She would have to remember to work with Oksana to help push this further at a later time. She gave Oksana a knowing smile and a wink. Her thought was that Felix looked like his fur was getting knotted.

Felix droned on and finally got to the point as he described their target and what they needed to do.

Rowan couldn’t resist yanking Felix’s tail a little. She had to agree with Oksana; he was way too wordy for a briefing. Rowan’s brow furled as if she was struggling to process what Felix was saying. “So if I understand the plan right, we are going to walk through the forest to a ridge overlooking Pristupin. At that point we will stop and review what we can learn about what is between us and the freight line? Then we will make a plan to hop the freight line towards Novy Jork where we will attempt to meet up with Oksana’s contact for new papers. We will need cash.”

Rowan double checked her gear as she listened to Felix’s reply. She adjusted her potion bandolier to be in a more comfortable and secure position. Her pistol was loaded and ready to go. Spare magazines in her utility belt pouches. Her whip was clean, oiled, and supple ready for use. Her backup wand was in its holster on her belt. Her tactical pants were tucked into tall heavy black cotton socks which were covered by the tops of her tall combat boots. Her long black sleeve shirt was hidden under her kevlar vest and bandolier. Black leather gloves covered her hands. Her long curly red hair was braided back out of the way on the sides revealing the shaved sides and the comm piece in her ear. Her CBRN cape hung open with the hood down her back. It was black and trimmed in the darkest purple. The mask rested against her back connected to the hood.

Rowan turned towards Borys with a sigh. “I almost forgot. This is for you. Make it last and Cherish it. I only have one bottle left of the good stuff.” She handed a tall dark bottle filled with her home brewed wine. She had only brought two bottles with her. The one she gave him was a rich dark spicy Sangria style wine with citrus notes and warm autumn spices. The one hidden in the trunk of her car was a strawberry and cherry blended wine.

Rowan turned back to the team. She had forgotten her Mossberg. "I have my whip and pistol both have wands embedded in the handles. I have a Mossberg Shotgun with ammo as well. I am not as good at distance. Does anyone else want to use the Mossberg? If not I will strap it to my backpack." She waited for answers.

Day 1: 21:32:05
Babuskha's House (Oksana's Grandmother)
Somewhere outside the village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Magazines: Loaded

---

”I am not dead set on a city so much as a comfortable place to sleep that is clean, has modern plumbing and a lack of nasty smells.”

“Modern plumbing? So ‘You picked the wrong country, Morgana.’” Borys called over with a laugh, repeating Oksana’s words.

”She'll be fine. She survived eighty years of oppression. They'll get their ears talked off.”

“That doesn’t mean she has to suffer more. Don’t you think she’s been through enough?” Borys countered Oksana’s words, honestly a little bit disgusted with her callousness toward her Babushka.

”You drunk bastard. Can't believe you agreed with me earlier. You really are cased. Seems like you maybe shouldn't gamble though. You need a coffee before your drunk ass falls over. I left hot water and a compress there.”

“What makes you all think I want to be sober in this situation?” Borys asked the second and third person telling him to sober up in the day, taking a swig from the Medilandia to make a point, undercut by how it scrunched his face. “Kurwa, no, this govno is becoming a Molotov.” He set the bottle aside.

Truth be told, he didn’t remember where and why he broke Svetlana’s metal folding stock. The night was too hazy for detail like that. All he remembered was that it broke against someone’s face, and then the armory guy yelling at him. And Ivan and Kazimyr holding him back from breaking something else against the armory guy’s face. Svetlana had gone unreturned to the armory that night, and the next morning, he was unemployed - not for that stunt, strangely. For something stupid he wasn’t even part of.

Same deal with his armor, gas mask and tear gas grenades, the latter two leftover from riot control duties. All simply unreturned, lost in paperwork Hell and walked out with after being fired, because who doesn’t steal in Polavia is robbing their family.

---

Fourth mug of tea of the night in hand, Borys sat on a stack of haybales for the briefing, almost subconsciously compensating for his height.

“You know what makes these bearable?” He asked when he saw Oksana counting nails in the barn’s roof beams to stave off boredom, miming taking a drink.

“One ward-carrying cop and we’re fucked even with false identities. They know our faces, the forged papers will have to rely on changed appearance to be effective here in the first place.” Borys pointed out a hole in Felix’ plan that he thought saw, probably not helping the shapeshifter’s situation by being yet another voice that interrupted his briefing instead of waiting for him to finish. “Might as well work the underworld connection angle and get smuggled out or take the train as the first option and only use forged papers to disappear once we’re abroad.” Likely in motherfucking Liboli, he thought glumly to himself, almost reaching for the wine at the thought.

”I almost forgot. This is for you. Make it last and Cherish it. I only have one bottle left of the good stuff.”

Taking the bottle from Rowan, Borys pulled the cork out with his teeth and took a sip to sample. He reckoned the whole bottle would last him for maybe two useful inebriations and it was sweet enough to work as a fly trap, but it would do. “You are now my favorite person on the team.” he chuckled, clapping Rowan on the shoulder.

“That doesn’t mean she has to suffer more. Don’t you think she’s been through enough?” Borys countered Oksana’s words, honestly a little bit disgusted with her callousness toward her Babushka.

Oksana shook her head to Borys's comment, drunk yet willing to die for her grandmother. She got that feeling. Like the he actually cared about someone for the first time in the while though, that was new, but care for her grandmother was mutual.
"There's enough pure bullshit on this place to cover our tracks. Quite literally, I spent the entire inventory of what I had left behind here in concealment glpyhs, and honestly, she'll probably list off the five different times I visited two years ago. And, we're out of town. Relax. I wouldn't have taken us here if I didn't feel comfortable." Oksana replied, as the conversation ebbed and flowed. The ketamine might have had a slight effect on it, but the comedy of Borys being more attached to Oksana's grandmother than Roxie was herself, well, that was gold. It had to be said, Borys certainly had matured up, even if he was half cut....and well, Oksana should have been a bit better there.

Rowan sipped her tea before asking Oksana. “How do we recognize the former Security Apparatus in Polavia?” Rowan thought she knew the answer but was curious how Oksana would answer. Besides one of the others might need to know the answer. She found the other woman’s humor compatible with her own. She found her amusing and liked her sass.

"When you see them, you'll know. Somehow, I feel I might refer to that later." Oksana chuckled, sipping away more of the cup of tea, and putting the cup back on the tray, ready to go back inside to Babushka once they were on the way out. She wasn't unclean or anything.

---

“One ward-carrying cop and we’re fucked even with false identities. They know our faces, the forged papers will have to rely on changed appearance to be effective here in the first place.” Borys pointed out a hole in Felix’ plan that he thought saw, probably not helping the shapeshifter’s situation by being yet another voice that interrupted his briefing instead of waiting for him to finish. “Might as well work the underworld connection angle and get smuggled out or take the train as the first option and only use forged papers to disappear once we’re abroad.” Likely in motherfucking Liboli, he thought glumly to himself, almost reaching for the wine at the thought.

"Point taken." Felix replied midway through, shrugging his shoulders. "But at the rate you're going, your face is getting rearranged by said cop if we get as shitfaced as we did back there. That's where I'm going with it, we get abroad, or at least, build up distance through some anonymity. So we can get the fuck out of here. We're in your country now, so I mean, pick a spot." Felix sighed, as if he was talking to schoolkids who were truant and pissed up.

There wasn't much for it, because Felix, after a few shots, felt just as truant.

With a brief, and an incredibly rough idea, the team had places to be. Flasks full of soup and tea, and weapons set, backpacks on, they were on the move.

---

Day 2: 00:23:02
Grestin Monastery,
Somewhere overlooking the the village of Pristupin,
Libor Province,
Republic of Polavia

Act One: Regroup

Part Two: Running for the Train

Moving through the woods, the team were keeping a tactical sweep, the moss cushioning noise, all members of the team in all angles. This was some tactical stuff, but the forest seemed as containing as evil as they were poking it.

"Roxie, anything ahead?" Felix asked, 417 to shoulder, as he moved back into a more patrolling pose, far too full to even consider shifting to his lion form.

"Nothing that's tingling." The Druid replied, the ruin of the old Chapel monastery providing a useful landmark. Cover, too, if they needed it, but mostly an opportunity for visuals on Felix's plan. As shit as it was, finding if the coast was clear would get them out.

The team moved tactically, two by two. Rowan and Felix in the lead, Silas in the middle, as the team's medic, with Roxie and Borys keeping the tail, eyes towards back.

"Eyes up. Observation Post is ahead. Roxie, Borys, get on point." The voice held crisp, as Roxie nodded to Borys, the bush moving forwards ahead of Felix, her Vityaz in hands moving through the stone relic. It was quite overgrown, Chapel long since kicked out, but the pile of rocks that was left here making for a decent spot.

"Clear." Oksana called out, getting through the ruin, the stone tower still in place but with stairs that were wrecked going up to it. It was so much a ruin that it was down to hip-height walls, glyphs all but lost to time from a half century of wear. The second storey was gone entirely- it felt like just the base rooms were left, and of that, even less was structurally sound. It was just a convenient post, and cover this close to the village. They were overlooking after all, and using this as a checkpoint before heading to the trainyard. To review their fine shit work.

Moving forwards and a bit beyond it between a pile of rocks in a natural hide, Oksana set herself down, the bush immediately seeming to cling to moss, absorbing it almost in a weird way. Felix stayed at the stone wall inside the ruin, getting in position with his viewfinder, sticking close to Rowan and Silas, while the recon team of Polavians kept an overwatch.

"Eyes on village. Police sirens for sure." Oksana adjusted, taking her rangefinder out, pushing it to the pisshead of the group, Borys adjacent.

"You don't need to spot. It's a vessel, no idea how it performs on drunk people, but hopefully you won't puke, and you might see a little bit forwards when in combat. Lose it, I'll fucking actually foresee you getting shot. By me. I've not had a problem that hasn't been fixed by 762 by 54 millimetre yet no matter how many beers someone slugs." Oksana quipped, SVU back in hands as she aimed down the rifle barrel, flicking her NVGs up, the natural lighting doing enough for her with the feint of green against her forehead. She was generous to give something quite close to her early on, definitely showing her appreciation for Borys, but also ripping into him while at it.

"Hang on. Activity. Alright, let's watch, Borys." Oksana remarked, going quiet and letting the team listen in.

Because from their natural overlook, down below in the village, the team could hear the sound of a frustrated man. It wasn't police. The flashing lights were going, yet no actual siren noise. And then more men. And a whole gaggle seemed to come out of one of the houses.

"Where is she?" The rough looking man was dressed in Polavian camouflage had gotten through. The house raid had worked nicely. Because in the next house over, they had found their target.

Dragging out the smaller witch- M4 witch- it appeared she was still here, and much worse for wear.

Had her exfil been botched? Glyphs did go wrong, but not that bad, surely?

They brought her to the foot of the World's End, enough well armed, leather-jacket and military gear hand-me-down militia already in place. More were coming in. Way more. Fuck me, this went from a one man raid to at least a dozen, like that, the team lead thought to himself.

"That isn't Polavian Army, nor Police. Unless they're suddenly all equipped with more AKMs and bad uniforms to supply a Druid Mafia raid. Any militia, Roxie?" Felix looked through his tactical viewfinder, wondering what the actual fresh fuck was going on now.

Roxie checked her comms, adjusting the mic's setting to mouth, knowing it was best she called it out to Rowan from earlier. She could recognise them by their dirtied insignia. Pricks.

"Rowan....THAT, is Security Apparatus. Leather coats, black, olive tactical gear, yellow and red insignia. Every story you read is true. Secret police that ruled this land creating fear on behalf of the regime...formerly, at least. Why the fuck they are back in numbers I don't know. Real experts at wards, too. Everyone, be real careful." Oksana uttered, in shock she'd seen this many of them out.

What the fuck was this, a convention for them? How the fuck did this many unemployed, torturing, scumfucks end up this wealthy, this kitted out, and most of all, holding a DSR Special Forces soldier captive? They kept their insignia because they were proud of their work, clearly. Not afraid to come out of the woodwork. For some reason that nobody in the team quite understood.

And finding out why, well, that scared Oksana more. Were they going to already raid Grandma's house after? That felt a fucking nightmare. So much for leaving. But the situation still was evolving, as she stayed silent for now.

"Eyes on vehicle. Nice one too. Oksana, you recognise them?" Eyes on, she watched the BMW roll in, a new model. Wanting to quip back she didn't know every fancy car in Polavia, now that was just racist. Yet she was still taking this all on. Shit, the PSA had laundered enough money to fund a small army here....and with the man that got out of it, Oksana took the man that stepped out of the car in, mouth dropping further than it already had when she realised who it was. More had started coming in from the car behind, out of a shittier looking Lada.

She had hoped Felix was just chatting bare shit as usual, but here, she realised fate was crueller.

"Fancy car. I mean, could be any....wait. That's....ahhh, fucking hell. He survived his alcohol problem then. That, that is....Lieutenant Colonel Yezhov Prigostin. Bastard, we should....." Oksana adjusted the PSO scope, and immediately could see his head exploding in every, single, vivid way, in a manner that probably would have overriden to Borys next to him.

"Roxie. Hold." Felix's order came through knowing he had to stop her going on impulse, as the bald looking, fat bastard of a Security Apparatus looked down, with a glaring grin at the witch, cuffed at arms and hogtied at legs.

"Actually, explain who that is?" Felix asked, watching as the Lt Col adjusted his leather jacket. This was cartoonishly the most Polavian bad guy he'd even seen, walking over to the captive.

"Prigo was Head of Chariton Unit in the PSA. The worst of all of them......the people the Party sent after the people they really didn't like. Counterintelligence. Went dark after the Revolution. Thought he got killed by his own people. Let me have him, Felix. If I do anything right in this life, please let me kill the Fat Seal. For everyone he hurt. And the asshole he is." Roxie's teeth chattered, Borys probably realising she was even more angry than the money he owed, but now with a bullpup sniper rifle in hand, really trying not give up position.

"Negative. There's far too many of them. Build picture first. Then we'll execute. Not sure you're aware, but we don't have the mags to kill everyone and turn this place into World War 5. We're meant to be leaving. Not fighting over local politics." Felix commented, looking through his own, the person described truly an ugly fuck. Even by Polavian standards. "Also, do you forget that witch tried to kill us?" So very, very low bar then....

"I'll fucking show you too many.....argh." Oksana struggled, not wanting to entirely go into reasons as to why she wanted to slot him now, but Felix was right. There were at least 20 to 30 men in that village, and they were close enough to take the team out if they decided they wanted a fight. Staying silent, and observing was going to keep the team alive. And finding out what the fuck was going on, that made not the Police, instead a former Security Apparatus Colonel turn up, that was worth intel alone. The team stayed quiet, and listened into the distant murmurs they could. Not that Prigo was quiet.

"So you're the little witch they sent in on our territory. On our land? Where is she?" The Lieutenant Colonel leaned in, his voice an accented English, understandable to everyone, including M4 Witch. She had to have a name.

"I don't....no idea who you mean." She replied, as the Colonel tsk'd and nodded to one of his men.

"Ah, Lily. You will remember. We do not need craft to make you remember. We have our ways." He replied in perfect tone, the man dragging her here enacting that.

A butt of an AK hit her face, Oksana so tempted to shoot, but aware killing him would do nothing. There were already a couple of bodies of drunks nearby. The witch stayed silent, blood pouring from her nose. The men sent ahead of the Colonel had done some nasty work.

"Shit. Torture it is. PSA special. Are they looking for us too....has to be? Fucking Felix." Roxie asked, enough delay in the echoing voice of the men below in the valley, as the Colonel sighed, another senior looking man coming along, from across the bar and the remains of the fight. Past a police car where bullet holes were, and two Polavian Police had been killed in cold blood.

"Ay. Fuck you. Unless your people really like horses, fuck knows why I have anything to do with this. Is this a you problem? I smell projection." Felix replied, addressing it straight on.

"Asshole." Oksana sighed in reply, watching on, looking to Borys. She didn't make herself vulnerable like this, but in that moment, a lot of fire was burning.

Unlike Hex, the SA weren't very good at keeping quiet. They were making a point in the village. And everyone in the village knew that unlike the Mafia, if they came knocking, they would answer- the police had been shot here after all. The Witch was hurting, bleeding plenty, as the Colonel approached another man in the muddy track, almost disgusted he had to come personally to see this, the other man more the doer from his rougher looking appearance. An ushanka, and dirtied leather coat and gloves with a thick beard. Younger, by far. An officer maybe, but not as high ranking as the former Lieutenant Colonel. A Captain, maybe?

"Olygarkov. Torture her for everything she knows. I have affairs to sort in the capital, why I had to detour here is a mistake you will not make again, or else Yelenka and your little boy will have their tongues switched. Understood?" Prigostin's voice was like barbed wire had contacted a cat.

"Again, why her?" Olygarkov replied trying as hard as possible to brush that threat off (after an earlier apology), as he seemed still not to understand quite what all of this pomp and circumstance was about.

"Well, Oly-fuck-tard-ov, Rowan Morgana must be found, because if the DSR sent a team for her, and she happens to be on the run, she must fucking know about Manticore. She's a loose, loose end we do not need right now. And she's magically fucking appeared here, without a glyph. Find her. And bring her, to me. Preferably in one piece, I'll take many and we'll put her back together until she croaks. Search every house. One of the yokel fucks will know where she is after the mess her team made. Kill them once they tell you. Or you will join her as a loose end." Prigo didn't fuck around.

As if being an awful human being was enough, he also was just an asshole of a boss, and disparaging the less abled. Not exactly one for PC language, but then again, Polavia wasn't exactly the cosmopolitan hive that the DSR or even Liboli could be. Olygarkov nodded, making a symbol that implied crocodile clips to another of the men, less willing to file a HR complaint considering in the Security Apparatus, they were probably more likely to do worse to him than he was about unto others. He left on that note.

Oksana's jaw opened up hearing all of this realising shit was fully in the fan. So much for it being Felix being the fuck up here. At least it wasn't her, as the voice of Felix filled in her thoughts.

"Oh, fuck right off....really?" The words left Felix's mouth in trailing shock, as he glared over at Rowan, by his side. Realising he felt a little relieved it wasn't actually him. But, to be hunted by someone like that, well, that was a little more serious given the wattage that the witch down there was getting soon getting applied with. Rowan had opened up earlier about the botched raid. Looks like this went another octave higher.

Olygarkov and some balaclava wearing SA men dragged the witch through the muddy track, throwing her down in front of a puddle, opening the back of an old Lada and connecting a car battery. And all the team could do is watch, and argue.

"Rowan, why are there men torturing an entire village to find you? Are they.....ohhhh fuck no. No, Felix, they'll get an answer with that. On all of us. We need to shoot or we're gonna get the same treatment." Roxie replied, actually shook. The scream could be heard, as the witch was connected to many, many volts, and the Druid Witch winced. Before anyone did action something, Felix intervened. In a way that felt awful, probably like pulling hairs right now, but was probably a wiser decision considering what he was watching.

"Negative. I've spotted another Ural's worth of SA down the road. Unless you want to die, situation is the same. We need to get them to dissipate first once they go house by house, and start dropping them one by one. Don't act on emotion or else..." Felix hushed back to Oksana over the comms, as the Polavian turned beetroot.

"Oh fuck you, my fucking grandmother lives nearby, they keep going and they'll......wait, everyone, hold!"

And in that exact moment that Roxie called it, gunfire rang out from the other side of the valley.

Heavy gunfire, and the bullets sounded less Polavian, but more DSR in calibre. The team had a theatre seat to watch Olygarkov dive into cover, Lily get left behind and squirming away from the voltage, and all manner of gunfire respond into the woods on the other side of the village.

"They came back for her! Lucky operator.....they're a lot dumber than I thought." Felix stated, realising what was going down. Oksana didn't agree, even if she understood too.

"Felix, fuck's sake, you got a spine or are we going to sit here and spectate? For a lion, you seem to lack any fucking courage or balls, I don't care, we'll go through them too if we have to stop this!" Roxie was overstating, a little overconfident, but then again, with a sniper and the ability to see ahead, she was willing to roll that dice on her grandmother's village. Anyone would understand. For her, it was personal.

"Do we look like we're equipped to fight a platoon and a half of Security Apparatus, and now, also cross-fight DSR special forces that now want us all dead, so we can join the locals? You fucking in a K-Hole? Observe and wait. We might be able to make this work." Felix replied, as he kept an eye on Rowan, his opinion changing from seeing the wholesome witch to some sort of criminal that was on his level. If she was wanted by him, he didn't want to ask quite what that meant.

Oksana scowled, as she leaned in, watching as the DSR Special Forces team came back. And were trying to fight their way, going through a group. To the untrained eye, they weren't just special forces, they were even more ridiculous than that. The Ural exploded, as a massive fireball was cast, and more gunfire opened up.

"Well, I guess they are equipped to take on an platoon, and a half. Point taken. But we can capitalise when they're done. And again, fuck you, I'm not in a K-Hole...." Oksana took the Ural exploding to note, realising that Felix, as annoying as he was, had a point. On one thing. For now.

"Well, that sorts that out. Or we let them distract and they point them a different way for other resources on what now at least another member of our team knows. If they get her back, they might go for the team. Not us. Ideal. Standby, team, pick up eyes on...." Felix started, comms overrunning.

"Team. Hold still. Contacts. Close." Interrupted by Roxie, holding still in her ghillie, and that made the team's ears prick. A seer saying wait, was like a railroad crossing blinking red. Her voice broke, but was clear enough to make them stop arguing.

As the sound of gunfire erupted, so did the sound of rushing footsteps on their left. A patrol had clearly started moving to another strongpoint. While the Security Apparatus weren't the Polavian Army, many of their rank were trained soldiers first, evil secret police later. And the former was not helpful to the team right now, as Felix could make out the rustle of trees as lights came up.

"Everyone, don't fucking move. Contacts, immediate east. About a dozen of them. New plan, fight our way out and run." Felix whispered, getting back in cover with Rowan, behind the wall.

The team were a bit split. Felix's contingent were in the monastery ruins itself, in the ruins and around the growing conifers, while Borys and Oksana were a little across, hidden in the brush.

Oksana looked to Borys.
"I've got the two approaching the walls in front of Felix and Rowan. Can you get the group right? Without gathering collateral our team? Spoiler alert. You can." She asked, shifting her position, eyes down scope, aware that she had FMJ for this situation, and she had to clarify if they should open the taps. Even against her better judgement, Felix was probably going to be pissed if they didn't take it all in.

"Felix, play? We changing our ROE?"

Felix meanwhile with Keodis, Rowan and Silas, had a chance to line it up.
"Cleared to engage, take the team out and then we run. Keodis, no frags, pick up the main group. Rowan, stick to casting, rather than the shotty. I'll take the first group, no lion from me. Standby. On three." Felix switched up to the 870, loading in a mana-filled pellet, peeking.

"One.....

"Two...

"Three."

And with it, all hell broke loose.

Day 1: 21:32:05
Babuskha's House (Oksana's Grandmother)
Somewhere outside the village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Magazines: Loaded

---

Oksana:”I am not dead set on a city so much as a comfortable place to sleep that is clean, has modern plumbing and a lack of nasty smells.”

Borys: “Modern plumbing? So ‘You picked the wrong country, Morgana.’” Borys called over with a laugh, repeating Oksana’s words.

Rowan looked over at Borys and raised an eyebrow. “What part of my previous answer was not understandable? I was being hunted by Reactor and the DSR. I got word they had posted a big bounty on my head and they were looking hard for any member of my team. The resulting political fallout between Kalan and the DSR was massive. They are both looking for an escape goat to blame. I like my head… attached. Polavia was closer and quicker to get too.”

Rowan had gone back to setting out her gear as she heard Oksana and Borys’ comments about her grandmother.

Oksana: ”She'll be fine. She survived eighty years of oppression. They'll get their ears talked off.”
Borys: “That doesn’t mean she has to suffer more. Don’t you think she’s been through enough?” Borys countered Oksana’s words, honestly a little bit disgusted with her callousness toward her Babushka.

Rowan smiled as she agreed with Borys. Who didn’t like old women who invited them into their home and fed them? She went back to getting her gear organized and ready. She snickered as she heard Oksana and Borys bickering like siblings. This time over him being too drunk. His reply to Oksana that he didn’t want to be sober made her snicker. She sighed as she knew being inebriated and trying to make potions was a bad combination. She had tried it once. She had woken up in the potion lab at Reactor headquarters where a chameleon potion had gone wrong. It had exploded all over the lab. The walls that had been splashed with the potion were an ugly dirty bubble gum pink color with moving mutuating spots over that changed colors from puce green to sunset orange with changing patterns and stripes in them. It was a nauseating effect. She had been covered in the same colors. It had taken a week for her to figure out how to negate the potion since she didn’t remember what had gone wrong. She swore never to create potions again while drunk.

---

Rowan was sipping on her own home brew tea as the briefing droned on when Borys interrupted Felix this time.

Borys: “One ward-carrying cop and we’re fucked even with false identities. They know our faces, the forged papers will have to rely on changed appearance to be effective here in the first place.” Borys pointed out a hole in Felix’ plan that he thought saw, probably not helping the shapeshifter’s situation by being yet another voice that interrupted his briefing instead of waiting for him to finish. “Might as well work the underworld connection angle and get smuggled out or take the train as the first option and only use forged papers to disappear once we’re abroad.” Likely in motherfucking Liboli, he thought glumly to himself, almost reaching for the wine at the thought.

Rowan’s brow furled as she realized that Borys had a point. They were going through this for potentially nothing. She sighed. She was kind of done by this point. She was just ready to get on with the next part of the plan. She didn’t think they had a good plan but rehashing the same shit was not going to get them anywhere. As the meeting wrapped up she gave Borys one of her bottles of wine. It had to be leagues above what they had been served in the local pub.

Borys: Taking the bottle from Rowan, Borys pulled the cork out with his teeth and took a sip to sample. He reckoned the whole bottle would last him for maybe two useful inebriations and it was sweet enough to work as a fly trap, but it would do. “You are now my favorite person on the team.” he chuckled, clapping Rowan on the shoulder.

Rowan gave Borys a warm smile. It made her feel better to have her effort noted and appreciated. She winked at him as she went about double checking she had everything.

Rowan had asked Oksana how they would recognize the former security apparatus.

Oksana’s answer was lacking.

Oksana: "When you see them, you'll know. Somehow, I feel I might refer to that later." Oksana chuckled, sipping away more of the cup of tea, and putting the cup back on the tray, ready to go back inside to Babushka once they were on the way out. She wasn't unclean or anything.

---

Day 2: 00:23:02
Grestin Monastery,
Somewhere overlooking the the village of Pristupin,
Libor Province,
Republic of Polavia

Act One: Regroup

Part Two: Running for the Train

Rowan had her broom attached to a special tactical sling that kept it slung across her back until she needed it. It kept it out of her way. Riding it when she didn’t need to would drain her mana. She might need that for the fight ahead. So she sullenly made her way through the heavy wet moldy muddy forest with the rest of them. She was doing her best to be quiet. She was a trained operative but she would never be that operative that could blend into the forest like Oksana could.

The team was spread out as they made their way forward. Rowan was in the front with Felix. She had taken a potion that helped to silence her footsteps. Her head was on the swivel as she did her best to scout out what was ahead and stay alert for any activity around the old church they were headed towards. Rowan could feel Silas’ presence behind her as a solid backup. He seemed to emanate a trustworthy aura. Maybe she was projecting because he was a healer. Roxie and Borys were bringing up the rear. They were making decent time and while leaving tracks behind them, they were moving fairly quietly for such a large group.

Felix's words had Rowan tensing as her eyes focused on the ruins ahead as they emerged from the forest ahead of them. Rowan nodded as followed along with Felix. She was careful not to brush the branches to make noise. Rowan remained silent as the team moved into position. She took a position along the stone wall with Silas on one side and Felix on the other. She picked a position that would give her a good view down the cliff towards the train station and town. She was careful to stay behind the wall and kneeled so that just her head would show over the wall. She mumbled silently to herself with her hand on the handle of her whip as she casted a farsight spell and a distance hearing spell on herself so she could keep better tabs on what was happening below. Rowan followed the action below.

Rowan saw a large group of men obviously trained as mercenaries of some sort. They moved like a cross between military men and thugs. They didn’t carry themselves like law enforcement. They lacked a stiff spine and something in their bearing that set law enforcement apart from mercs. The witch that she had faced off with at the pub was being dragged out of a house by the group of men. Rowan continued to watch and listen as things deteriorated quickly.

Felix questioned what group he was seeing and Roxie answered.

Roxie: "Rowan....THAT, is Security Apparatus. Leather coats, black, olive tactical gear, yellow and red insignia. Every story you read is true. Secret police that ruled this land creating fear on behalf of the regime...formerly, at least. Why the fuck they are back in numbers I don't know. Real experts at wards, too. Everyone, be real careful." Oksana uttered, in shock she'd seen this many of them out.

Rowan kept watching as more men showed up. One of them appeared to be a leader who stepped out of a fancy BMW. Rowan got the gist of what she was seeing and why Roxie was losing her shit. These were remnants of the famed secret police who were thought to be disbanded. Then why were they here in such numbers and so well equipped. Rowan watched as the ugly heavy set man as a shiver ran down her spine in an almost primal warning. She would never want to be in that man’s control. Rowan began noting targets as she panned across what she could see happening on the streets below. There were more targets than they had planned on. More well trained targets at that. She frowned as she noted that they had not hesitated to kill law enforcement officers that kept the peace in the little town. That meant they had backing from really high in their government or didn’t fear the government.

Rowan felt a deep growing fear as the interrogation commenced. Rowan was not the most moral person in the world. But she had some lines she wouldn’t cross. You didn’t pull children into politics and war. She knew it happened but she felt war should be left to the professionals and innocents should be off limits. Rowan thought to herself that the man was a world class douchebag right there. Threatening the man’s family for something he might not have any control over. She was with Oksana about killing the man. She continued to listen.

"Well, Oly-fuck-tard-ov, Rowan Morgana must be found, because if the DSR sent a team for her, and she happens to be on the run, she must fucking know about Manticore. She's a loose, loose end we do not need right now. And she's magically fucking appeared here, without a glyph. Find her. And bring her, to me. Preferably in one piece, I'll take many and we'll put her back together until she croaks. Search every house. One of the yokel fucks will know where she is after the mess her team made. Kill them once they tell you. Or you will join her as a loose end." Prigo didn't fuck around.

Rowan felt cold fear run down her back turning her blood to ice. Anyone watching Rowan would see her pale as she listened to what was happening even as face showed her growing confusion. She frowned in confusion. He was looking for her? What the hell was Manticore? It had to be connected to her last mission. She had no fucking idea what the hell Manticore was about.

Felix turned and glared at her as he said: "Oh, fuck right off....really?"

Rowan thought his comment was directed at her. She glared right back at him trying to keep her voice low not wanting to attract any attention. “They obviously didn’t know I was even here till I met up with that DSR team sent to get you! I have no idea what the hell Manticore is. This has to be related to that fucking botched mission in Kalan. I told you Kalan had the whole fucking country looking for me. Then I made it back to the DSR and learned they were looking for me too. So I fled as quickly as I could and headed for the nearest border, Polavia. Now here we are in the middle of this cluster fuck! Don’t look at me like that. I already told you about this.”

As Rowan was telling off Felix and answering Oksana’s questions the witch was being tortured for answers. Then the Oksana and Felix were going back and forth about whether to intervene or not. Rowan once again felt like a spectator at a tennis match as Felix and Oksana argued back and forth. Their argument was hushed and you could hear the sounds of heavy caliber bullets as it sounded like her team was coming back for her. Then it resumed on whether they should use her team as a distraction to leave or to take action.

Felix: "Do we look like we're equipped to fight a platoon and a half of Security Apparatus, and now, also cross-fight DSR special forces that now want us all dead, so we can join the locals? You fucking in a K-Hole? Observe and wait. We might be able to make this work." Felix replied, as he kept an eye on Rowan, his opinion changing from seeing the wholesome witch to some sort of criminal that was on his level. If she was wanted by him, he didn't want to ask quite what that meant.

Rowan met Felix’s eyes with a glare. She could sense his judgement and it fueled her anger. She glared at him as that anger was building. You could almost feel the gathering power in her as her hand tightened on the handle of her whip. The sound of running footsteps and gunfire close by took her attention away from Felix. Even as Felix gave orders.

Felix: "Everyone, don't fucking move. Contacts, immediate east. About a dozen of them. New plan, fight our way out and run." Felix whispered, getting back in cover with Rowan, behind the wall.

Rowan did not agree but she didn’t have any other choices right now. Felix was right about what they were up against. If they could take out all of the SA here, then more would come to find out what had happened. If they knew why he was here, if what they thought she knew was sensitive enough. Her life wasn’t worth spit anywhere. She felt like a hunted animal. She didn’t like it one bit. She hated being told what to do. She snarled and growled at Felix as she leapt into action. She jumped up on top of the wall and began to hurl potion bottles as she began to use her whip to good use. Her whip cracked out with a flick of her wrist and the barbs on the end opened up one soldier’s throat tearing open his unprotected neck. The acid potion hit another right on the face. The potion bottle broke on the top of his face and the splash zone included one of the men next to him. She followed that up with a smokescreen potion that would obscure what was happening around them from those looking on from below.

Rowan: “Well you wanted to find me. Here I am assholes!”

Rowan unleashed her anger on the men on the opposite side of the wall. Her whip flaying them open. Occasionally an electrical burst of power would feed along the length of the whip. Blood flew in a whirlwind around her as she moved quickly and decisively aiming to kill or maim but take men out of the fight as quickly as possible. She would have her whip going with her right hand as she reached out with her left and fired ice darts out of her left. In no time at all, there were five men down on the other side of the wall. They were either bleeding out, unconscious, or already dead.

The only thing he could really do is sit there and listen. And can't help but grin, "If you think I have any ability to pass on the religious judgement...you're wrong. I'm a Medic not a Priest. And I know less about animal husbandry." Okay maybe he's being too literal. As people are sipping tea and going over the plan he digs into his medic pack, "Come on...it's not just for disinfecting things..."

He gives off semi-committal grunts are things are discussed. He got the gist of it. A tough situation, worry about being discovered, identification problems. He hums and wonders to himself if he should have remembered to bring his Polavian Medical Licence. He really should have had it on him all the time to make it look like he's a registered member of the the medical community around here. Maybe it would have worked to get them past a check point or two in the future. Stupid of him to forget it.

As everyone is being so serious he finally crows, "Ah ha! Knew I had it here!" A tall maybe foot long tin canister, a jury rigged canteen, maybe 3 inches wide, "I knew I had brought something along!" He popped the top, anyone within about 5 feet would get the scent of a truly strong vodka. He tips it back and growls happily, "Ahhh that will wake you up. Good for three things, Killing Brain cells, disinfecting wounds and de-greasing engines." yes he passes it around. A little rot gut hurts no one.



You ever just stop to look at the Stars?

As the ragtag, rough team moved through the trees and brush and cool of the night, Silas found himself stopping and looking up through the canopy, at the stars above. The Night sky. He sniffed and rubbed a gloved hand over his nose, "Malaka it's always something else." HE took a moment to watch a big bright blue star, one of the old Navigation Stars burn in the dark of the night above.

He then looked back down and scanned the crew.

Falling into Medic mode as he scanned everyone. Some were showing stress, other nerves, a few anxiety. He sniffed and trudged up, digging into his medical pack, grabbing a small bottle of water. Walking up and smacking it into Keodis' chest, "Drink, Hydrate. Calm your nerves yeah? Gamoto this is a screw up." He sniffs and tries to run up to Rowan, but before he can get there they reach the edge of the woods and the ruins beyond. He palms his scattergun, "Damn..." And the spread of military types among them and the outpost, "What the hell is this?"

He's turning to the others when the argument between Felix, Rowan and Oksana began. He sighed and rubbed his nose, "Probably part of the reason that Reactor burned down right there." He says to no one in particular.

He looked and he could tell what was about to happen as Rowan tensed then began to move. "vlammeni! What are you! Gamoto!" He growls as explosions of potions began to crack, Rowan's whip cracked. He spent all of about 15 seconds before he wracked the slide of his scattergun, really wishing he had his big KS right now. He surged up, and tried to tackle Rowan, down off the wall and down into cover. Growling at her as he does, "Do not make my job of all things harder you damn fool! Be angry, kill people. But do not kill yourself!" He tried to drag Rowan into cover behind a pillar of stone. Peeking around the pillar and then blind firing towards a group of the enemy. He growled, "Gamóto, tha katouríso to spíti sou kai ólous tous syngeneís sou!"

Day 1: 21:32:05
Babuskha's House (Oksana's Grandmother)
Somewhere outside the village of Pristupin, Libor Province
Republic of Polavia

Magazines: Loaded

---

Borys had to laugh, as it appeared the seer who could see alternate futures had never before encountered an eventuality where he wasn't an absolute prick. Then again, maybe it wasn't so weird, all he really knew about her Craft was 'Sana tells you not to step in stupid places.' nor have they ever worked together.

---

Day 2: 00:23:02
Grestin Monastery,
Somewhere overlooking the the village of Pristupin,
Libor Province,
Republic of Polavia

---

Borys was indeed ‘at all angles’ as he seemingly walked in every direction but perpendicular to the rest of the formation, quietly thankful for the forest being dense enough that there typically was a tree he could steady himself against without stopping.

”You don't need to spot. It's a vessel, no idea how it performs on drunk people, but hopefully you won't puke, and you might see a little bit forwards when in combat. Lose it, I'll fucking actually foresee you getting shot. By me. I've not had a problem that hasn't been fixed by 762 by 54 millimetre yet no matter how many beers someone slugs.”

“I heard that you were charming, Butterfly, but the stories did not do it justice.” He chuckled flatly, interrupted mid-sentence by a drunken hiccup, aware he was probably about to get elbowed, and accepted the binoculars.

And that was a mistake.

Borys was immediately overcome with the feeling of a giant wringing vodka out of his brain while kicking him in the stomach, and among all that, what he for some reason recognized as Oksana elbowing him in the face after a drunken comment about ‘her attitude possibly being fixed by 16 centimeters’ he did not remember even thinking about. Seeing himself throwing up from the sensation threatened to be a self-fulfilling prophecy, were it not for the fact that something he saw in the premonitions punched through the haze over his mind.
“We just had cabbage soup and vareniki. Why am I throwing up just the semechki from the pub?” Borys groaned quietly, a completely mad string of words Oksana would understand perfectly nonetheless. “I think I understand the ketamine now.” He continued, finally stabilizing himself. He took a look through the rangefinder and spat on the ground as soon as he clocked the insignia. He completely understood where Roxie was coming from. In fact, that was why he had to agree with Felix. “No. Too quick for him, he deserves as he gives.” He knew better than trying to apply reason to an angry Polavian woman, but revenge? That could work. “Good thing Rowan brought a car, that takes care of the car battery and jumper cables.”

“You have an admirer.” Borys said in Oksana’s direction, expecting the Polavian secret police to be after a Polavian who emigrated.
“Or not…” He had to correct himself not long after. “Has anyone else committed something atrocious that angry people might want you for that you want to come clean about? Small genocide here, a bit of stealing from the mob on the side, using 20 year old cognac for sauce? No one?”

Borys reached forward and cupped his hand over the muzzle of Oksana’s SVU, being sober enough to know he was sober enough for that to turn his hand into meat confetti if she fired. But he never saw that happen - whether it was because Oksana wouldn’t do it or if he just wasn’t using her vessel right was in the stars though. “Let them fight, then finish off the survivors.”

Or not, hostiles approaching them making the situation that had been sort of manageable until then a complete shitshow.

”I've got the two approaching the walls in front of Felix and Rowan. Can you get the group right? Without gathering collateral our team? Spoiler alert. You can.”

Borys had already taken a swig of the wine for good luck and good measure, Svetlana at the ready as he took two attempts and a few seconds to stand up before charging out of their hiding place.

“FUCK OFF, KURWA, WE’RE HAVING A MOMENT HERE!”

The slurred war cry echoed around the area as Borys headed to an outcropping of rocks, not to take cover but to use for support. The sharp bark of AKs coincided with a pair of hammers slamming into his side plate, the impact barely felt in his state except for toppling him over mid-stride. That turned out to be worse for the PSA goons than Borys, since he sprayed a wide arc as he fell, forcing those among them still alive to hit the ground and stop shooting, giving the team an opening and Borys time to pick himself back up and stumble over to the rocks, still yelling drunken expletives to try to draw attention to himself while Oksana’s vessel gave him just enough of a heads up to turn into or away from incoming fire, spreading the bullet impacts somewhat evenly across his ballistic plates.