Member
POOPHEAD189
Tipping Point
12th of Midyear - 4E208
Three Crowns Hotel - Gilane
The news of Daro’Vasora and Latro’s capture was in no small sense of the word a blow to Judena. A long scratch of a line ran down the length of her page as she began to record, squeezing the writing utensil in her hand visibly trembling. Flipping to a new page she wrote down taking up an entire page their names and underlining CAPTURED and the date.
Meg had brought the news to them, the Dwemer were actively targeting their group for the past few days and captured Sora and Latro after public humiliation. She felt truly blind for not being aware of how much danger they were in, how perilously close Sora and Latro were to death.
She was sick of it.
“I am tired of this.” She said quietly, with everyone gathered the new faces and familiar, they had all worked hard to survive and adapt to the new reality that was in front of them - threatening them. They had done so together first with Rhea and then Sora.
“I am tired!” She said, louder, slamming the butt of her staff on the ground. “I am tired of being at the mercy of the Dwemer!”
She beat the ground again, having the attention of her friends and allies. “Being at the mercy of their armed forces in Imperial City, the mercy of their technology that slaughtered innocent civilians creating rivers of blood across the already blood-soaked cobblestone streets of my home.” Her beard expanded as she grew angrier. “Now we have been at the mercy of their damned hospitality here in Gilane. I am sick of my friends being threatened when all we have been trying to do was survive!”
Both hands gripped her staff, tilting her head down, “When they should have thanked us instead. It is our fault.” Words she never imagined saying out loud, words that were scrawled across her pages in the logbook Something she had realized after Imperial City was sacked, something everyone who had survived Jerall Mountains had known since. When she looked up the mixed expressions of confusion, guilt, anger and realization. A truth that those here feared would drive others away.
Gingerly releasing her staff she opened her logbook, there was no turning back now. Pain revisiting her scaley features once more. “It is our fault the Dwemer were able to return.”
“15 of Rain’s Hand. The day Rhea Valerius lead a small team of various experts down into the heart of Jerall Mountain’s dwemer ruins. A team that consisted of Daro’Vasora, Latro, Brynja, Megana, Anifaire, Alim, and myself. There were others, but have since passed on or left.” Her eyes met with each of them seeing the guilt she held reflected in their individual eyes, impossible to mistake their names as they are written. “The expedition into unknown parts of the ruin was met with disaster, our escape route crumpled in on itself forcing us to find a new way out. We encountered Falmer and Dwemer technology that threatened our lives. We reached an inner sanctum where we had found an ancient piece of technology among the bones of a well preserved Dwemer. In their gnarled hands… was a lexicon.” She said, patting her chest. “A discovery of such bones would have made the expedition a monumental success.” She took a deep breath in pressing on. “We were given a choice, suffer the same fate of being trapped or activate the Dwemer construct. Some of us had reservations, Daro’Vasora voiced hers. Given a choice of survival Rhea activated the device and it tore apart the mountain with force unseen. We escaped through an underground river while the expedition site was completely destroyed behind us.” Water welled in her eyes, reading the same line of thought she had read Gregor at the party. “‘The green menacing shaft of light seemed to reach far and high into the night sky. The disaster wrought on the expedition hung over our heads like that of a hundred souls lost to the mountain side’s collapse.’” It painted a ghastly picture for Judena’s imagination.
Silence hung on the edge of her words before anyone could comment she turned a page, “We arrived at Imperial City, Rhea leading the way to safety on 26 of Rain’s Hand. Nobody knew the true implications of what we had just done... not until we escaped Imperial City’s sacking did it become clear.”
Pausing a moment to swipe her sleeve across her eyes. “The device in Jerall Mountain opened the door for the Dwemer to return. It is our fault.”
Judena inhaled holding the breath but tears spilled and openly she began to weep, it was a relief to share the truth but every day she came to terms with what they had done. It was all such a mess. Grappling with the tragedy of loss and pain, did they deserve it? To be forgiven for suffering under the consequences of their own actions? Questions she had asked herself, no doubt others that were present held inside their hearts as well.
“Please,” She said, “Please forgive us. Understand what we have done for survival.” She bowed her head pressing her logbook to her chest. “We have been brought together by a horrible chain of events that began in Jerall Mountains,” Her eyes gazed following who came into their lives as each city they had visited, “Imperial City, Skingrad, Anvil and now Gilane.”
In a few deep breaths she composed herself, “Now you all know. Each and every one of us has gained something from this… this thing we have together as a group. Whether that is safety,” She looked to Calen, Nanine, Rhona, Shakti. “Friendship,” Her gaze passed over Alim, Anifaire, Bryjna, and Mazrah, “... Love.” She turned to Meg, Raelynn and Gregor not present, “We have gained it together. We are not whole as we stand without Latro and Daro’Vasora.”
“Whatever you may or may not owe them individually does not matter, what we owe them and ourselves is their safe return.” Her voice became intense with emotion, fire slowly began to blaze in her golden eyes. “There is nothing else to be gained, no games nor political stakes.We rescue them for them. We cannot and will not fail them.”
Anifaire looked down at her hands, toying with her clothes, nerves in her stomach. She knew she wouldn’t be much help in a rescue mission, yet she also knew she had to try. The news of their capture was jarring; it was like she’d been hearing, about people who dissent being taken off the street and away from those they care about. And it was right in front of her, in the group or people who had cared for her and who she wanted to care for in return. She had mixed feelings about Daro’Vasora, yet after everything she had done, she felt a resolve build to do anything she could to help.
Meg wiped at her eyes in vain, unable to quell her tears. Hearing about the start of their adventures, about Rhea, thinking about the bonds that had unknowingly been formed in that fateful adventure... it was too much to take dry-eyed.
"Yer righ'," she murmured, a shaky breath escaping the Nord as she reached out and placed a hand on the elderly argonian's arm. "There ain' no other way 'round it. Sora an' Latro would do the same if any of us were stuck an' needed savin', I just know it."
She looked around at the others gathered. "Won't be easy though," she continued. "Gettin' in tha' place? One wrong step…”
The creaking of doors interrupted the scene. There stood Hassan and a couple guards, masked in keffiyehs and armed with spears. Hassan stood, grim-faced and armoured. He looked over those gathered, his face not betraying any feelings strong or otherwise, “We have a messenger.”
Latro stepped up from behind them, neck still bruised from his run-in with the rogue insurgents. He made his way to the center of the room and stood before all of them, a look of pure fury only restrained by sheer will. His axe and knife were upon his belt. The knife was not the one that could be explained away for cutting meat or herbs, no. It was the other one.
For killing.
Another stepped up beside him, a hulking man of indeterminate race that moved equally as quietly despite his bulk, equally frowning. Latro sniffed, looking over his friends. His family, “Well? Here we are. Let’s plan.”
Mazrah’s mouth fell open at the sight of Latro and the large stranger entering the room. She had listened attentively to Judena’s story and felt that her tears and her guilt were unfair -- how could they have known what activating the device would do? But those thoughts were brushed aside like autumn leaves in a storm now that the Reachman had somehow, miraculously, returned.
Calen, who had been sitting his own, now free of his bandages and back in his normal clothes, but still rubbing at his sore and tense muscles in midst of Judena’s sobering news, became immediately animated as Latro appeared in the doorway. His eyes were bright and vibrant with joy and relief, even if Latro’s were cold and steeled and his body battered. Calen was just overwhelmed to see him alive. He barely had time to call out to him before the orc woman made a scene.
Practically leaping out of her seat, Mazrah enveloped the diminutive Latro in a ferocious hug, squeezing him so hard she shamelessly (but accidentally) pressed his face against her breasts. They had barely spoken a word to each other before but she was well aware of his relationship with Sora, and that alone was reason enough to be overjoyed that he was back. “Call me Urdanok gro-Ashagravan and fuck me sideways,” Mazrah grinned and stepped back to look at him, her hands on Latro’s shoulders. “You’re back! You escaped! How? And who’s this?” She turned her head to look at the stranger and raised an eyebrow at his odd appearance. She found it hard to place his race. Still, it wasn’t enough to wipe the grin off her face and she bounced on her feet with excitement.
“That is Sevari,” Jaraleet replied to Mazrah’s question, entering after both Latro and Sevari had done so. “He is a friend to our cause. It’s thanks to him that Latro stands here right now.” The Argonian said, moving further into the room and taking a seat. The ride to and back from Al-Aqqiya had been exhausting, but there were more pressing matters than his own exhaustion at present and so the Haj-Eix pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. “We have a rescue mission to plan right now. Any further questions can wait until later.” He said calmly, looking around the people who had gathered in the room.
Well, the questions wouldn't be leaving Meg’s mind even if she didn't ask them, that was for sure. She couldn't keep her eyes off Latro and Sevari, wondering how in Talos' name they were here. Latro looked so... different that what she last remembered. As for the man next to him, Sevari… he still looked as intimidating and as grumpy as the other night.
All of that was put to the side though; she felt a pit in her stomach as she realized this meant Sora was all alone in the enemy's grasp. Who knew the thoughts going through her mind? Jaraleet was right, they needed to focus.
Sevari did not exactly look inviting, but anyone that was responsible for freeing Latro was a friend too. Mazrah embraced him in a hug as well and pinched his cheek. “Thank you. And lighten up, big guy.”
“Jaraleet’s right. Whoever Sevari is, his help is welcome, and the confession, while appreciated, is irrelevant right now.” Nanine spoke up from her own seat. Her own mind was a whirl of questions, curiosity, and subtle anger. She pushed it all aside for now. Answers would have to wait. “We need to free Sora from the Governor’s Palace, which has become much more well guarded since the dwemer official’s death, our assault on the prisoner caravan, and the attempted infiltration into the prison. Even if we had the manpower to just charge in and free her by force, it wouldn’t be pretty. The only things we have to our advantage is that they still don’t know who we are, likely don’t expect someone to be foolish enough to attempt to free her, and those guard uniforms that were stolen.”
She looked around at the group at large. “Do we have anything else that could be of use? Maps of the Palace, weak points that could be used to get in, knowledge of guards who like to sleep on watch, anything?”
Sevari produced a badge from inside his coat, holding it out for all to see. Secret Police, Ministry of Order, Counterintelligence and Counterinsurgency Division, though it was just a symbol of oppression to most. Although, it was a valuable asset to him so far, “This is a key to anywhere in Dwemer lands. I could scout the city archives, look for blueprints of the Palace. It will take me some time and I have the simple fact of me being here to worry about.” He said, “I’ve no doubts that none of you trust me because I have this. Just know that I have been in service far longer to the Empire than the Dwemer.”
He tucked the badge away, folding his arms about his chest and casting an annoyed glance at Mazrah. His cheek was still sore. Latro spoke after him, “This Khajiit saved my life. He’s the biggest hope we have of getting Sora out.”
Judena approached Latro, setting her spear aside. A gentle hand found his shoulder and she said, “You are alive.” A lump of emotion built in the back of her throat, “You are alive.”
She turned next to Sevari, her eyes scanned from the badge and up to his face, a moment of contemplation seemed to pass as she decided how she felt. Her ‘beard’ flattened against her neck, “Thank you Sevari, for your help.” Deciding then and there she was simply grateful to see Latro once again, it relieved a fraction of her worry.
Removing her hand from his shoulder she held her hands stepping away, hunching her shoulders - apologetically nodding to Latro, “I told them about what happened in Jerall Mountains. They know the truth now.”
“How was Daro’Vasora the last you saw her? Is she okay… present circumstances withstanding of course.” She asked.
Shakti considered what Jude had said gravely. It meant a few things for her. It meant Daro’Vasora had lied to her. Or at least played dumb when they had talked about the origin of the Deep Elf invasion. She couldn’t lie to herself, she saw the party in a much different light, knowing what the nucleus had done. Normally, Shakti would have something upbeat or positive to say at a time like this. But she was having trouble ‘seeing the side of the dunes that the Sun touched’ as the old Alik’r saying went. Instead, she sat, in the centre of the room, feeling very isolated for someone who was in a crowded room. Her mood was darkened further by the entrance of a man she recognized. She had fought a duel with him some nights ago. Her ribs were still sore and cut up from where the point of his sword had sliced. She felt her side for the sore spot. No one else knew about her midnight mission and no one else knew why she had tried to take the knight captive.
Shakti looked away from the man, whom she now knew was named Sevari. She traced her finger along patterns in the wall to try and distract herself from the moment and her thoughts.
“She’s okay.” Latro said, “It felt more like a vacation almost, our imprisonment. Our cell, so to speak, was one of the royal guest rooms. They made it clear at the start of our stay there that they would be courteous to us and they were.”
His head hung low for a moment and his brows unfurrowed. He sighed, rubbing his hands through his hair, “But, I won’t let them keep her comfortably imprisoned. I refuse to leave without her, I refuse to let her stay in their clutches a single minute more than I absolutely must.”
From across the way, Calen pushed himself to his feet and made his way across the room to properly greet Latro and express relief for his safe return. With his own recovery and Latro’s return, things were beginning to feel like they were starting to resemble some form of normalcy -- whatever that was for this group, being the magnet for trouble that they are -- and gave him a warm hug. Not overwhelming like Mazrah’s, but softer, yet firm, as if Calen was cradling him upright in his arms. The Nord pecked the top of his head and took a step back. His smile was still warm, his cheeks rosy.
“You had us scared, asshole. Welcome back.” He said cheekily. Then he turned to Sevari. He saw the Ohmes pull out his Dwemer badge earlier, but now, he thought nothing of it. He never really hated the Dwemer. He didn't understand their methods, why they decided such measures were necessary. It made him feel angry and frustrated sometimes. But he didn't hate them. And seeing Sevari with them now, by Latro’s side, he couldn't hate him either. He extended an open hand to him.
“Thank you,” he said, “for bringing him back home.”
Latro smiled sheepishly, not being able to match that greeting from Calen to the first interaction they’d ever had, where he’d spurned the man for not wanting to condone the violence against Nblec. That only made his heart hang heavier, Calen was the things he wanted to be. The things he might never be. “It’s good to be back, I’m home again. With you lot.”
Sevari looked at Calen’s hand, letting it hang there on it’s lonesome for a bit before he took it in his own. “He brought me here, not the other way.” He said, throwing a glance Latro’s way, “Kept talking about having to go to his family.”
Anifaire watched the reunion fondly, glad to see their return, and yet an empty feeling built inside her. She watched quietly, feeling like a strange visitor watching a close family enjoy dinner together.
Meg looked to Latro, managing a smile, though it was a little shaky. She was happy to see him there, there was no doubting that, but it made her want Sora back now, more than ever. She cast a glance at the others before eyeing Jaraleet and raising an eyebrow. He had mentioned they had a rescue mission to plan; perhaps it was time to get back to that?
Jaraleet nodded in Meg’s direction, easily understanding what the Nord woman was trying to convey with her gaze. He cleared his throat loud enough to get everyone’s attention to focus on himself. “As much as we are glad for Latro’s return, this isn’t the time to be distracted.” The Argonian began calmly. “We can exchange pleasantries and have a happy little reunion later on, but I think it’s too early to do that just yet. Sora is still a captive to the Dwemer and no matter how pleasant or accommodating her captors might be, that doesn’t change the fact that she is their prisoner.” He continued on, turning to look at Sevari and then to the rest of the group. “I know some of you might have reservations towards Sevari given his past allegiances, but his help would be invaluable in out attempt to rescue Sora.” The assassin said, turning to look at the Ohmes-Raht again.
“If you could scout the city archives for a blueprint of the palace that’d be a great help. We could infiltrate a team if there were any hidden accesses that we could take advantage on. Maybe slip in when there are fewer guards and break Sora out.” He mused out loud, shaking his head slightly. “Maybe we could use those suits of armor we liberated?”
“Well, theoretically…” Calen began, the soothing calmness of his voice giving way to uncertainty, “I wouldn’t need blueprints, I think. What little bit of magic tricks I know helps me navigate the countryside without maps. I owe a lot of what little success my carriage business’ had to that minor skill in clairvoyance, but…”
The bard’s confidence was beginning to wane. He subconsciously began clutching at the site of his recovered injury. He finally said, “But I… I don’t know if I can go back into that mess. I’m, uh… I’m afraid that I’m not cut out for it. The violence, the blood—I’d only slow everyone down.”
“Be glad you’re not cut out for it, my friend. Good men detest violence, but doing nothing is worse.” Latro said and cracked a grin at Calen, “Anything you do to help us would be appreciated.”
“Hmmmm, your clairvoyance skills would be useful in guiding us through the sewers, I won’t lie.” The Argonian said, pausing for a moment as he thought. “But, perhaps, we won’t have need of them if Sevari can get us the blueprints to the palace.” He continued on, an idea coming to his mind. “In fact, you might be able to help us without having to fight at all Calen.” The assassin said. “Maybe we could disguise a team using the suits of armour we stole and you could guide them using your clairvoyance skills towards where they are holding Daro’Vasora?”
Judena rubbed at her chin, looking to Calen, “Drawing a path on the blueprints to create a covert map for those us who feel comfortable entering the fray would be very useful. We can utilize the blueprints as a base of a map, guided by Calen’s clairvoyance - I can certainly provide insight for where guards and other enemies may be. I am quite proficient using Detect Life for long bouts of time. We can move safely, quickly through, without being molested. The same applies to removing Daro’Vasora away from danger as quickly as possible. I simply need a spotter to keep me focused, I do not want to make any mistakes.” Judena said offering what little insight she could provide - not tactically inclined but committed to helping in some form.
“Can that badge grant you access to Daro’Vasora, and convince people that someone above you wanted her moved?” Nanine asked Sevari, a thoughtful hand on her chin. “We won’t need you two to risk yourselves,” She nodded at Calen and Judena respectively, “if Sevari can just take a small group straight to her under the pretenses of some high ranking official wanted her. Then we could just meet in the alleys of Gilane and Sevari could claim we ambushed him and killed the guards he brought.”
“Listen, whatever you guys are gonna be doing, I want to make sure we spill some blood,” Mazrah said and leaned forwards, resting her elbows on her knees. “These gray-skinned shits have been getting away with too much without some proper… what’s the word? Casualties, on their side. And I don’t like the idea of sending anybody in there with an excuse or a disguise or something but not the steel to back them up if things go tits-up. I propose that myself and whoever is willing and able,” the Orsimer continued, her eyes going around the room, “sneak into the palace at the same time, through a different entry point if we can find one, and cause a distraction. Wreak havoc, kill Dwemer, lead them on a wild goose chase through their own halls. I’m a huntress and a killer and nothing but, so that’s my contribution.”
“I have to concur with Mazrah.” Jaraleet spoke after the Orsimer huntress. “As ideal as it would be for us to be able to waltz into the Governor’s Palace and get her out with Sevari’s help, I don’t feel comfortable with relying solely on one idea. There’s a number of things that could go wrong with the idea you propose Nanine, so I think it’d be best if we caused a distraction.” The Argonian continued on, turning to look at Mazrah. “I will go with you. Hopefully we can cause enough of a distraction for the others to get Sora out.”
Mazrah grinned. “Now that’s what I like to hear. Glad to have you with me, dark-scales.”
Meg had been quiet for quite a while, simply listening as she didn't feel knowledgeable enough to contribute, especially after her night 'mission', but she cleared her throat and looked at both Mazrah and Jaraleet. "If that's a plan, coun' me in. I can sneak, an' I'm good with a sword." If her causing a little nuisance on purpose could help save Sora from the dwemer, she was very happy to deliver.
“The guards are going to be very strict with prisoners from now on after the attacks that saw my team dead and Latro and I forced to take refuge in some inn.” He shook his head and sighed, “Any transfer of prisoners, even from individual rooms in the Palace, are going to be under very strict supervision and must be approved by higher-ups. Kerztar isn’t going to take any chances.”
“We will have to go at this cloak-and-dagger if we want to do it at all.” Latro said, folding his arms and finally taking a seat, “Blood may very well be spilled. But everything will be for naught if it’s ours.”
“I would not be rearing for a fight in a situation where we are not the ones picking the field of battle. It’s never been my way.” Latro said, frowning. “The blueprints in the archives are our best chance. Waltzing up to the gates in stolen armour is a gambit, at best. We’d be better off disguising ourselves as servants, rather than soldiers, I doubt they’d brush it off if somebody didn’t know the name of some officer if asked. Nobody bats an eye at somebody dressed the part and walking with surety in their task, though, and servants are everywhere. Too many to commit every face to memory.”
“A well-placed frenzy spell on a few guards might cause a distraction. Another commotion at the opposite end of the Palace will have the garrison split and confused enough for us to slip in.” Sevari sucked his teeth, “Even so, we will have to be resolute and quick in our task. It won’t be long until they’re rallied proper and ready to fend off the real threat.”
“The violent distraction would have to be timed perfectly. There’s only two reasons an attack like that would happen, either it's an attempt to assassinate the Governor or an attempt to free the prisoner. It won’t take long for the garrison to figure out which it is, and even less to muster some defense for both goals with the number of troops they have there now. Ideally, whoever goes inside would be close to Sora so that when the commotion starts they can take advantage of the few moments of surprise to subdue any guards and start getting her out.” Nanine drummed her fingers on the tabletop. “I can go with Jaraleet and Mazrah. My magic will be able to delay and cause even more confusion if we need some distance between us and the guards and I’ve no skill in stealth.” She looked over to Sevari and Latro. “How many of the servants aren’t Redguards? The idea of sneaking in with them is a good one, but nearly all of us would stick out and almost surely be noted if we suddenly appeared among a purely native servant crew.”
“We can have Shakti go with some others.” Latro suggested.
Shakti’s ears pricked up at the mention of her name and she looked at Latro. “Disguised as a servant girl?!” The idea of dressing as a lowly servant prickled the Redguard’s sense of honour. She might be a tatterdemalion teenage girl, but she was still a proud Alik’r Warrior.
Meg looked over at Shakti curiously. "Tha' shouldn' be a problem, should it? If it's the best way t'get Sora outta there, then shouln' matter what we're disguisin' ourselves as."
That was enough to make Mazrah chuckle. “I know how you feel, Shakti, I really do, but Nanine made me wear robes when you bust you out of your carriage,” she said and her eyes flitted between the Breton battlemage and the Redguard warrior. “Now it’s your turn to wear a disguise to save Sora. Okay?”
“I have to agree with Mazrah. I know you might not like the idea Shakti, but it is for the good of Daro’Vasora.” Jaraleet said, looking at the Redguard girl. “Surely it’d be worse to do nothing, right?” He asked, hoping that with that light prodding Shakti would be more on board with the whole idea.
Diligently as ever Judena wrote the points in the conversation, following along pausing to note expression and other details, she stepped up over to Anifaire. Replying to the youthful conjuration mage - Nanine, the tiniest bit of indignation at the suggestion of keeping her away from helping. “I am not going to stand idly by, Nadine.”
“I am going to help with splitting the forces, if there is anyone I want to be my spotter I would very much like it to be Anifaire,” Judena said gesturing to her fellow Alteration mage. “In a magickal assault, you would be sore to miss both of us.”
Holding her hands Judena whispered to Anifaire, “If only you are up for it.”
Anifaire’s mouth widened, her eyebrows raised, completely shocked to be relied on. She quickly nodded, pink tinging her cheeks. “I’m coming,” she said. She wouldn’t let Judena down.
Nanine held up her hands placatingly. She ignored the name mistake. It wasn’t going to go away and trying to correct her was a futile effort. “No one was suggesting that you stay behind Judena. Your magic will doubtlessly be extremely useful when we attempt to split their forces.” She looked back over at Mazrah smiling lightly. “You’re going to be wearing robes again when we’re running through the Palace. Jaraleet, Meg, and I as well. I’d rather not have our descriptions be readily distributed throughout the city after we save Sora.”
“Who all else is going with Judena to make one distraction? As potent of a mage, as she is, she’s going to need help.”
Mazrah snorted derisively. “I don't think so. If we're sneaking in through the sewers and killing everyone we see once we're inside, why should I disguise myself? And even if we leave a witness, fine. It's high time the Dwemer learn who to fear.”
Nanine resisted the urge to facepalm in exasperation. Of course, Mazrah would advise Shakti to swallow her pride then immediately ignore her own advice. “Several reasons. One, our goal isn’t to kill everyone we see. Our goal is to cause a commotion and convince as many of the guards as possible to come for us rather than guarding Sora, so whoever is inside can grab her and get out in the chaos. That’s going to leave a lot of living witnesses to describe who exactly attacked the Palace. Two, when we get Sora out we’re going to be wanted by the Dwemer. Badly. They’ll be searching for us, and I’m sure that you don’t want to spend nearly all of your time hiding. Three, the only advantages we have against them is that they don’t know who we are or how to find us. If you go into that Palace without a disguise, you’ll be practically handing at least yourself over to them. You’re so distinct and easily describable that even the greenest and most absent-minded guard could spot you as the female orc with golden eyes and white tattoos on almost every inch of her body.” Nanine continued her voice matter of fact. She was frustrated with the orc woman, but not surprised. Mazrah was who she was, and losing her temper would do nothing to help convince her.
“Best case scenario would be that you don’t leave wherever we’re hiding out until missions. Best case scenario that is likely? They spot you and only take you. Worst case, they spot you and they follow you to the rest of us to recapture Sora and crush another cell of the resistance. Our goal is to free Sora and survive to continue this fight. The only way to do that is to keep them from knowing who and where we are as much as possible.”
Shakti furrowed her brow and bit her lip. She knew the others were right, but damn if every fiber in her body told her to disagree. “I… I know it’s for Daro’Vasora. I will do this thing you ask.” Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe she’d get a new change of clothes out of it. One that was not ripped and covered in blood. “Will I at least get to keep my sword with me?”
Meg couldn't help it- she was beginning to get frustrated, and she could barely keep her attention on one person when the other started to speak. It was very clear to her now that they were missing their leader, and it was also very true that despite the khajiit's doubts, Daro'Vasora was good at what she had been forced to take over.
"Uhm," she started, looking between the orc and the mage, pausing when she heard Shakti speak. Well, that was a bit of a relief; at least she agreed to a disguise. She then glanced in Sevari's direction. "Yer the one who knows the palace best. Is there any poin' in concealin' ourselves if we’re gonna be causin’ a commotion?"
“We are a small force infiltrating a very secure bastion of Dwemer power. The louder our distractions are, the more time we’ll have to move. If they’re being attacked by you, they could care less about what you’re wearing.” He said, “Shakti, it’s a pleasure to finally know your name. Just as well, how many servants with Alik’r blades do you know?”
“In my humble opinion as a man who has been carrying out clandestine operations in the name of the Empire for the past 20 years, we need disguises. We need quiet feet. We need as little bloodshed within the Palace proper as possible.” He frowned, “I have connections that can help. We carry the plan out at sundown, the changing of the guards and the next shift of servants relieving the last will be a lot of motion.”
“One small team slips in- Latro, Shakti, a few others perhaps- during that time with the blueprints and hopefully someone who could guide them magically. One contingent of us to the west, another to the east, we split the garrison in two. We aren’t assaulting them, you draw them out, stay just long enough for them to pursue and you disappear, scatter to the winds.” He said, his fingers wiggling as he cast his hand about, “At approximately half an hour beforehand, all things gone to plan and hopefully not all for naught, my contact and I will… make a show of things.”
A little relieved now that Sevari had taken some control over the matter, Meg couldn't help but think over her previous decision. With her quiet feet and sneaky ways, it made much more sense that she headed forward with Latro and Shakti. She chewed on her lip for a moment before clearing her throat. "I'mma go with Latro then." And hopefully not end up getting someone shot in the gut.
Shakti hmph’d and scrunched her nose up in annoyance. This plan was getting worse all the time. Sneaking in with no sword? What would she do when they inevitably got caught? And the nerve of this ‘Sevari’! She could practically hear the sarcasm in his voice! How disrespectful!
The sounds of footsteps against wooden floorboards came echoing from the stairwell, slowly yet deliberately paced. Smaller of size and frame as Hassan blocked sight of them as they stood in the doorway, until stepping out of the way revealed a Breton with red hair and sharp, Nibenese features, layered in robes of Hammerfell silks and cottons, indicative of someone who was perhaps of a middle class, yet brought their finest wares with them to a formal event. A droning whistle of indeterminate origin could be heard through the room, but those next to Calen would’ve known exactly where it came from. She scanned the room carefully with her hands behind her back for a brief second before addressing Sevari, “I have spoken with the Poncy Man and the arrangements for Irranhu cell have been made. I am leaving him to deal with the logistics. How goes the affairs on your end?”
Meg blinked, eyes moving away from Sevari to looked at the woman who had just entered the room. A fancy pancy sort, in her opinion. But... "Who're you?" she asked, unable to stop herself. At least the Ohmes-Raht had been a familiar if somewhat intimidating face. The woman stared back at Meg, maintaining her professional demeanour, before looking past her and at the rest of the company. A few she looked at a bit longer, as though she were assessing them, though her gaze lingered longest on Jaraleet. Finally, although her eyes flicked back to Meg for a moment, she began speaking to the group as a whole.
“My name is Janelle.” She said, introducing herself as she bowed her head. When her head lifted back up, her stoic expression was replaced by a sly, little smile. “I am a benefactor for Samara cell, but I hope you all will come to see me as your new best friend. From what I could hear from the stairwell, I understand that you need a distraction? I’ve already made an arrangement with our mutual friend. Irranhu cell will be conducting a strike on a weapons depot, which should draw their forces away from the palace. I have… personally funded the operation.”
At the tail-end of her explanation, she stared at Sevari from the corner of her eyes. They were grave and intense as if to show him how far she was willing to go. With a slight turn of her head, she faced everyone again and asked, “Any other questions?”
It clicked for Nanine where she had seen the new comer before when ‘Janelle’ gave her name. Years and years ago, back in Daggerfall. A rich, intense, noble girl. Aries, back then. They had never interacted, class being almost everything in Breton society, but it was interesting that she was either lying or chose to change her name. Now wasn’t the time to mention such things, though, and Nanine kept quiet, watching the following back and forth.
“We’ve settled on a plan. I’ll strike out with you to oversee Irranhu cell,” Sevari turned to Aries, “It’d be best to keep you out of the thick of it.”
“You suggest that seeing over the diversion would keep me out of ‘the thick of it?’” Aries asked rhetorically.
Sevari frowned and sighed, “We’re advisors. We advise. Hassan will go among Irranhu cell. You and I both know their penchant for taking liberties with our help. You pushed an arrow of theirs through my lung last time we offered a hand to them.” He said, still remembering the gods-awful pain of it, “Unless you’re going to strap a breastplate on yourself, Poncy Man’s spies have designated an area we may overlook the raid from a distance.”
Aries listened intently to what Sevari had to say and ruminated on the its wisdom, but she found her eyes wandering over remaining members of the Samara cell. They were all standing there, watching the two of them discuss this in front of them. Her eyes fell back on the Khajiit, critical and uncompromising. Though he stood a full head and shoulders over her, she stared back up at him, thinking back on the time he had made his intentions and allegiances clear in the escape tunnel a few days ago.
“I appreciate your concern.” She said. “Perhaps on a more auspicious day I would have accepted, but we’re short on victories, Sevari, and clean hands do not beget dirty work. Do you want to know what the burden of duty is? Watch from the shadows while I set the example.”
Mazrah watched the exchange between the two newcomers passively, not really understanding the intricacies of what they were talking about. She liked the redheaded woman’s attitude, however, and looked at her with approval. “That’s right, no more hiding,” Mazrah said and flashed Aries a smile.
“Zealotry and recklessness it is, then.” He shrugged, “You act like a foreign dignitary wasn’t attacked and then a prisoner transfer convoy ambushed with all hands dead never occurred days ago. But, so be it, be Hassan’s burden.”
“You act as though you’re still on my side, but you’ve already made your feelings about that abundantly clear.” She remarked dryly, her gaze transferring over to Hassan. “Hassan, take point on Irranhu; I will accompany Samara.”
He unfolded his arms, “If we are all in agreement of the plan, then I will take my leave. I have things that need doing.” He placed a hand on Latro’s shoulder, “Good luck.”
Jaraleet watched Aries’ entrance into the room in silence. It didn’t escape the Argonian assassin the way that the woman’s gaze carefully scanned the room, nor the way that her eyes had seemed to linger on him the longest out of everyone she had set her sight on. “Sevari, if you would wait a moment longer.” He said to the Khajiit before he left the room. “I think I’ll join the others who are infiltrating the palace. I’m not the best in a stand up fight, so I’m not sure how useful I’d be in helping with either of the distractions. That is all.” The Argonian said, deciding to hold back on asking the Ohmes-Raht about who was their newest benefactor. There were far too many questions in his mind for him not to be, somewhat, wary about ‘Janelle’ and her intentions.
Having resigned herself to sulking after Nanine had laid out exactly why she was going to have to dress up like a fucking child’s doll, after all, Mazrah suddenly realized she’d almost forgot something -- or rather, someone. While the conversation continued, she got up from her seat and squeezed her way behind the chairs of the others towards the door. She stepped outside for a few seconds and returned holding the hand of a rather surprised looking Redguard woman.
“You wanted mages, right? Here you go. She can help. Her name is Maj and we’re friends,” Mazrah said bluntly and gave Maj’s hand a little squeeze.
Maj was indeed surprised. Brought in while she was trying to eavesdrop through the heavy doors, ear pressed up against it. Several staff trying to shoo her away from what she was obviously doing. Unprepared for the attention of a large group of people that Maz rightfully had grown to respect and care about. A huge mix of faces as her eyes swept over.
Clearing her throat, squeezing Mazrah’s hand back before stepping forward. “Maj, Maj Noor at your service.” Sweeping bow, a flourish of her deep green cloak, the small stature of Maj bent back up at the waist wearing a full toothy grin. Dark black hair loosely tied to the side, uneven bangs falling over her eyes. “Aye, I’m a mage. A master of crafting the perfect distraction with a penchant for wanting to fuck with the Dwemer, properly. Frenzy, fury, you name it and I can cast it. When my imagination isn’t enough I back it up with conjuring real nightmares.” Selling herself, her voice loud and entirely confident.
“I’ll help get your friend back,” Maj promised, “If you’ll have me.”
“Glad to have another mage. We’ll need all the help we can get, so welcome aboard Maj. Before we disperse to prepare for all our roles, is there anyone else hiding in or around the building, waiting for dramatic entrances?” Nanine asked, dryly. “I’d prefer if we knew all that we had at our disposal before we got underway with preparations.”
“You can be honest, I’m the best surprise so far tonight,” Maj replied.
Meg couldn't help but crack a smile at the newcomer's words; if anything, she seemed like the cheerful sort, what with her words and smile. She was, however, ready to leave, seeing their plans for rescuing Sora were finally determined.
"I'mma head off then. See y'all in the mornin'." Lifting a hand in small wave, she waited only a moment before taking her leave, needing some fresh air... and perhaps a bottle to accompany her.
Judena looked between the two new women, writing as she did. “Thank you all, every bit of effort will go toward the safe return of Daro’Vasora. Latro, I am very pleased to see you alive and by our side once more.” She spoke with a firm resolve more so than how she felt prior to her confession. “There will be time. We will make time and a sanctuary for ourselves once we are whole. I-”
A rise in emotion in the back of her throat shuttered the elder Argonian to stutter, she swallowed patting at her chest feeling the wedding band in its usual place, the lump dissipated. “I will be found continuing lessons with Anifaire, use this time to collect resources, faculties and prepare. Please remember even if I may struggle to remember this conversation, I believe in each of you and I believe in us.”
