Golden Lore

[coolpool2]

Sacha observed the others in the room, some seemed to react greatly to the goblin's gun, while others barely paid attention to it. It didn't care too much for the firearm, magic was is more dangerous, and it does not need much concealing. Not to mention that almost anyone could use some form of it. Sacha's core was safely hidden in its hoodie, if it came down to it Sacha hoped he wouldn't know where to shoot. Sacha wondered why the first thing he did when he woke up was point around a gun, and where he got one in the first place.

Its arm stretched out to absorb a slice of bread. Sacha still felt fairly full from last night. Thanks to its physiology it had no ill effects to drinking, but it still got drunk... somehow. It would have to do some science to figure out why, but there is a low supply of slime test subjects that would be useful in such an experiment. The last three times Sacha tried to experiment didn't go so well. As it looked at the others in the room, Sacha decided it would try and find out what had happened the other night. First, it would try and figure out what was wrong with the strange lady. "Hey, are you alright lady? Also who's Hafford?" The slime asked, wondering if it should take another slice of bread. "I'm Sacha by the way."

 

[Requiem]

As Cassandra broke down inside of the bar, the swelling silence of the street outside became more pronounced. The bar was empty, but the street itself was not.

"We're dropping the veil around the bar in a moment. I need all officers to understand this. The suspects are to be taken into custody unharmed, but if they fight back, you are allowed to use open shows of force and aggression to get them to back down." The Porian Police Chief, Selendra Macintyre, floated amongst the squad cars and assault vehicles. Guns were trained on the bar, as well as magic meant to incapacitate. Even still, the magic wielding officers spread amongst the force had no qualms with putting their suspects down permanently for what they had done, if necessary.

"We want all six of them to come with us peacefully." The Chief was an Aasimar, and a rather angelic one at that. No wings like some of the old legends told of. They had lost those long ago, but some form of flight was still available to every Aasimar with enough practice. "Any officer who unnecessarily abuses the force lawfully given to them by the Empire will have to answer to me. We all know what these six bastards did, but the real crime would be to kill them before facing true justice."

Selendra floated past an orc, their eyes locking for a moment. They'd met before, but did not know each other well. Kargin? Congor? Kraden? It was something like that. He was a good officer, a good citizen from what she had heard of him. She wanted to smile, but chose not to. She continued down the line of cars and stared at each of her officers, letting them know that she meant what she said. They were an instrument of justice, not vengeance.

As the Chief floated away, a young woman in dark grey clothes (were they rags or a suit?) and dyed black hair appeared behind the Orc. She rested a hand on his shoulder and wasn't surprised to see that he recoiled instantly at her incredibly foreign touch.

"You think you know what the people in that bar did last night. All of you think you do, but as you can see, I'm only talking to you." And she wasn't lying. It wasn't as though time had stopped, but that she and the Orc were unnoticeable. Free to speak. "Kagrin Gru'ul, an honorable Orc from an even more honorable family line forgotten long ago, remembered only by the Golden Lore. The stories I could tell of your ancestors and the parts they played in those ancient Iterations... almost makes me wish my job wasn't so close to being finished." She sighed, perhaps not so contentedly.

"Kagrin, you won't remember me or my touch. You won't remember any of what I've said except for what I say next: The Last Iteration will need your help. They did not attempt to assassinate the Emperor. They did not murder his family. All they did was drink until they passed out, allowing their bond to fully form. You can be accepted into that bond, but they'll need your help to make it happen. They are innocent and you help the innocent.

"Underneath the bar is a lab. You and the Last Iteration must make it into that lab. Everything depends on it." She leaned up towards the Orc and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll tell your great grandpa that you said hi."

In a sudden puff, the woman danced out of existence. Kagrin's body had moved back to where it had been before she touched him. It was as though no time at all had passed. Only one thought remained in the Orc's mind. "They're innocent and we need to make it into the secret lab underneath the bar."

"Veil is going down! 3! 2! 1!"

Click.

- - -
​

A sudden burst of noise of all kinds blew into the bar. Car engines, shouts, and to the well trained ears of Malone, the jangle of guns. Pistols, rifles, assault rifles, the works. The crackle of the presence of magic made the hairs on her neck stand up.

"What the hell is going on?" She asked. The emotional breakdown of only a few minutes ago left her entirely. Instead, the receptionist became a cool, calculating soldier.

"We have you surrounded! Come out with your hands up peacefully or we will subdue you with force!" The amplified voice of a woman burned into the bar. An Aasimar, if Malone was right. It was as though the voice was amplified through magic, but there was no way to be sure without going outside and she would not be doing that.

A helicopter flying close overhead added to the sudden cacophony. "Diarmuid, the TV." She nodded towards the bartender. "All of you get ready for a fight. They're not taking us."

(OOC: So pretty straightforward, Stoney's cop character is on y'alls side. What exactly all of you did while passed out is still not clearly known to your characters, but the city of Poria sure as shit thinks you all attempted an assassination on the Emperor and his family. The Emperor's wife and children died in a massive explosion, but the Emperor was unharmed, fancy that. All of you have been blamed for it. So, there's plenty of ways for this scenario to end, but you have a goal, you have a man on the outside backing you up, and you have a desire, one would assume, to not get arrested or killed. But hey, that's on all of you to make happen!

This is when it gets fun!)

 

[Tirin]

Satisfied that he would have his breakfast within a few minutes, Kanin leaned back and relaxed, still having a sip of his whisky every so often while continuing to peruse the thoughts of the five others in the room, looking over their actions as well. Though he hadn't expected the unfamiliar human woman to contribute to his comfort, he was pleased by the bread she tossed onto the table - and took nearly a third of what remained without thanks, scarfing it down as though afraid it would be stolen from him. That provoked a suspicious thought - he had never seen the woman in the Brigand's before, but she seemed quite familiar with the place. Her thoughts jarred him, and for a moment his hand dipped into his jacket as the notion that she was a police or government plant crossed his mind; the only way to deal with that was quickly, and without mercy. But... she was even more confused than he was about how she knew it all, and in his experience it was very, very hard to fake confusion to a telepath. Impossible, in fact - he'd let her live for now, but kept his guard up. There was something more to this meeting than chance, and he didn't intend to be taken by surprise when it was revealed.

He had little choice. When the veil fell but a minute later and dozens of armed, angry minds phased into his perception alongside the clacking of each of their weapons, Kanin's eyes went wide with shock. Without missing a beat, the killer sprinted from the table and into the kitchen, vaulting the counter on the way. "Diarmuid, get some bleach and drain cleaner, now." He growled, a terrifying wildness in his eyes making clear that this was no mere request. "Make sure that the entrances are all covered, and get ready to fall back when they come in. There a basement? 'cause I'm not betting my life on going upstairs." He grabbed a fork and stuffed some of the bacon in his mouth straight from the pan, chewing it quickly enough to avoid burning his mouth as his mind raced over all the information he had and began collecting more from the men and women outside. The police were here, they wanted him (no, wanted all of them!), had plenty of guns, plenty of magical power to throw around... he swallowed the first piece of bacon as an observation stuck, his mind quick to dissect it for an idea. Under the circumstances, it had to be.

The magical field around the Barroom was strong - exceptionally so, no doubt in large part because of the firepower the cops had brought with them. Normally he'd have little chance of fooling five people with his magic, let alone dozens... but his odds were greatly improved by all of the power he had to draw on. If his plan worked, they'd get a solid thirty to sixty seconds more to improvise, a considerable advantage under the circumstances; if not, draining most of the field would at least prevent the police from making good use of it, and leave him mostly unhindered afterward. Kanin took a second and third piece of bacon, gulped them down, and walked out of the kitchen. "I'll distract them. Don't forget those supplies I asked for. And for fuck's sake, you'd all better start thinkin' quick, because I've got a feeling," it was, of course, a near-fact lifted from the officers, "that we're all already considered guilty."

 

[Jeroth]

Diarmuid smiled as the bacon sizzled and eggs fried. He could have chopped the bacon and tossed it into the omelette, but that was too much work for a greasy meal. Flipping them, he was caught off-guard by the female voice: “Dire Mud, there’s gotta be more here, right?”

Diarmuid was irked by this - A woman who he had no idea about was calling Dire mud, but was also rummaging through his kitchen. While he was going to reprimand her, he was caught off-guard.

“Hafford?” He raised an eyebrow, glancing at her before a spark of grease spat onto his hand. Pulling back, he let out a small yelp and held his hand over the grease burn. His attention turned to the strange woman who was just eating bread by the slice after rummaging through his fridge.

“Muddy… Hafford’s not the name of they guy who owns this bar.”

Her heavy breaths caused him to open his eyes in alarm. It was way too exciting of a hangover day. Leaving the stove for a hot second, Diarmuid found a bucket and placed it in front of her, in case she was about to spew. “Deep breaths, deep breaths. Hafford doesn’t own the bar. It’s Magnus.” He gently pat her on the back once or twice before abandoning her to check up on the breakfast.

Scooping up the eggs with a spatula, he placed them onto plates before he heard a kerfuffle in the main bar. The usually calm and composed Kanin had a hint of wildness in his eyes, growling out for bleach and drain cleaner. “Uh, yeah. We do. Both. Well, the stuff and yes, we have a basement. It’s rig- DON”T DO THAT! YER GONNA BURN YOURSELF!” He could watch the elf stuff his mouth with bacon straight from the skillet as he let out a loud groan.

Using a pair of tongs, he swiftly grabbed the remaining pieces of bacon and tossed them onto a plate before flinging open the cabinet beneath the sink. The drain cleaner was there as he rushed the breakfast plate and drain cleaner out to the bar, grabbing a piece of bacon to stuff into his mouth as he went to the supply closet. Opening it up, he searched the bottom and there was a handle of bleach - a necessary requirement for the bathrooms in the bars. He hurried the jug out to the bar, placing it on the counter and retrieving another slice of bacon.

“Sorry!” Diarmuid yelled before skittering into the kitchen and opening the fridge. No Pig’s Milk, but there was some milk that was used for white russians. Grabbing that and a handful of utensils, he brought it out to the bar as the nimble halfling hopped onto a barstool. The metal forks and knives clattered together as they were dropped onto the bar. Forcing some of the eggs into his mouth, he kicked off the the stool, letting it fall. “There’s milk, but no pig’s milk. You’ll have to make do.” He went back to the supply closet as he began to push the supplies to the back. With a name like the Brigand’s Barroom, it wasn’t just to attract the rowdier customers. When it was first made, it was used as a smuggler’s den and had a few routes underneath of the basement. Whether time was kind enough to the paths, Diarmuid didn’t know. At the very least, they could hide there from… well, whatever Kanin was afraid of. His nimble fingers felt the floorboards as the lip of a trapdoor could be felt. He needed it open now.


THWOMP!

Luckily the wood was sturdy was the door was flung open with ease. “We have an exit!”

 

[coolpool2]

Sacha tensed at the sudden sounds. The vibrations from outside the bar told Sacha just how many officers there were. The firepower they brought started to make it nervous. That amount of weaponry and magic would tear right through the slime. "What the? Why? What's going on? I don't want to fight. I didn't-" Its thoughts were jumbled as it struggled to comprehend the reality of the situation. It had always been a pure and honest citizen, doing things like obeying the law, not causing trouble, and definitely not eating people. "No. Not like this. I can't let them. I can't go to prison." It thought as it dived behind a booth. It wouldn't allow itself to be captured. Sacha doubted that even if it tried to tell them it was innocent, they wouldn't trust it.

It had to fight, or escape, preferably the latter. Its body temperature steadily cooled as its mind raced. Two dense layers of ice formed around its core, with small holes to allow for fluid flow. They wouldn't be able to hold off much, but if they deflected a bullet it could save its life. In its mind Sacha wished that it had brought its grimoire. It could be used as a magic focus, and it needed it to use most of its spells.

Sacha calmed itself down, one couldn't panic if a fight broke out. It surveyed the situation. The elf had jumped into the kitchen, from what he said it was clear that he intended to make some gas. That or clean a sink. It heard the Halfing opening something before talking about an exit. In a fluid motion Sacha moved to take better cover inside the kitchen.

 

[Chlegyr]

Kagrin had not watched the treaty signing at all, despite his best efforts. Tuning into the national news on the crappy TV whose sound only worked on one side,that time had instead found him sprawled out fast asleep on his sofa, still in uniform after returning home from another night shift at the station. Fully intending to watch the ceremony through to the end, slumber managed to claim him whilst the speaker prattled on with the pomp and ceremony. While others celebrated or commiserated, whilst world history had been made, Kagrin was unconscious. It had scarcely been three hours since he'd stumbled in through his front door and collapsed on the worn and springless mattress, but In the timeless gulf of dream, Kagrin had no appreciation for the time between the signing and when he was awoken. As he soon was.

Awakened by the rumble of his phone, the stock ringtone pierced the thin veil of sleep and dragged the still sleep deprived Orc into the waking world. Bleary eyed, it took Kagrin a short minute to connect a few things together in his mind. Firstly, he'd missed the ceremony, he was halfway through kicking himself in disgust and disappointment when he started paying attention to the half noises and sights on the television. Secondly, and perhaps most importantly, the Emperor's family was dead. Scenes of the destruction drained the blood from his face, as his jaw hung open. Adrenaline quickly overtook fatigue, as he scrambled into action attempting to find where he'd kicked off his shoes. His gun and his badge were carefully laid down on the nightstand, next to a picture of his mother, and he wasted no time slotting the gun into his holster and pinning the badge to his shirt in a now familiar and well practiced manner.

Only when the ringing stopped, did he think to check his phone. He didn't need a second order certification in clairvoyance to know that was probably the station, but what surprised him was a missed text, and a call from his mother. The text was a simple call to a bar nearby he knew of, though he didn't recognize the number, and put it down to some drunk dialing in the digits wrong. He frowned as he put the phone away, finally finding his shoes and slipping into his force jacket.

Sorry ma', you and dad just stay home, stay safe. It'll be over soon.

Barging out his door, and onto the cold corridors of the apartment block, he scarcely made sure to lock his door before charging out and down the stairs. Frightened faces peered out at him from cracked doors, and some who had been partying in the open spaces outside watched him go with a sense foreboding, the grim faced officer, running to the station with his eyes hidden by the shadow cast from his cap. As the sun poked over the horizon, Kagrin reached the station, finding it a hive of activity as heavily armored officers rushed to and from SWAT vans and others barked orders. As he arrived, he was swept up by a short woman he recognized as a secretary, he'd apparently been chosen for some operation.

Hurried into a briefing room, and hastily told that the primary suspects for the assassination of the Emperor's family had been located at the same bar that the wayward text had directed him towards. His mind boggled at the coincidence, and the blood ran cold in his veins. No time to ponder the possibilities now. Suiting up with a bulletproof vest, he joined the officers as they drove their way down through empty streets towards the dive bar the villains were holed up in. Imagining a siege, he was very surprised to find the place abandoned aside from the waiting officers outside. Taking but a moment to join his fellows, he flicked the safety on his .45 and aimed the barrel towards the door. The improbably angelic Aasimar gave a rousing speech to the assembled men and women, and Kagrin could not help but nod at the wisdom and justness of her words.

A split second later, the being came to him. He remembered nothing of the meeting or of the words that were exchanged, only a horrible lurching feeling, being displaced somehow. Only a thought echoed within his mind, one that made the certain righteousness of his actions evaporate into a morass of doubt and guilt. He knew they were innocent, he just knew it. He also knew that them reaching the basement was imperative, more important than even his life at this point. The thought was irrepressible, unquenchable by his knowledge of his duty and the orders given to him by the superior he admired and respected.

Duty, honour, obligation, all of these words threw up giant flaming barriers to the action he knew he now had to do. He looked up and down the row of officers, comrades and friends he would willingly sacrifice to defend, and how much he was about to betray that trust. He looked to the Aasimar as she sounded her demand for surrender, and knew she would likely soon be giving the call for himself to be apprehended too. If she or anyone else caught a glimpse of the Orc's face, the distraught, nearly demented determination on his features, perhaps his next move would not be so surprising.

Whispering the guiding words of his father "Do good.", he inhaled deeply, vaulting over the car door he was using for cover and sprinting at the bar faster than he'd ever tried to do before. Ignoring the shouts of surprise and orders to return, he only hoped he could dive through the window before the hail of bullets and magic could fly and the place reduced to rubble. His boot tread gripped at the parched, cold ground, as he braced his forearm forwards to shatter the glass, paying little heed to the damage such glass would do to his arm. He only hoped that those on the other side did not immediately eviscerate him.

(tl;dr Big Orc cop jumps through window.)

 

[Tolvan]

Upon hearing the commotion outside the bar, Nyria tensed. Unsure of what was going on, and still confused by her fractured memories of the night before, she allowed long-dormant instincts to take control. Water from around the room flowed into her open hand, forming a spear of glimmering ice. She scampered behind the cover of the bar, holding the spear at the ready, as half a dozen icicle shards condensed around her, floating in place.

 

[Easy]

This not being Fortune's first time at the rodeo, so to speak, he didn't quite react with the same level of panic as the others did when the veil dropped. In fact, he relaxed a bit with mixed feelings of relief and resignation. The other shoe had finally dropped, though it had turned out to be a whopping big one. He took the glass of milk absentmindedly with one hand while texting on his cheap flip phone with the other, sending a message out to several key underlings. It read:

"hey honey tell the kids we are waiting here w company. plenty of food so bring friends!"

Now just to stall the bastards for another few minutes until the cavalry arrived, and he could dip out in the confusion. Vikona seemed to have the right idea with the chemical bomb, but then, in an unbelievable stroke of luck, a lone officer suddenly charged in through the window in what had to be the single stupidest display of zeal and would-be heroism that the goblin had ever seen, even from a cop. His little green form reacted instantly, covering the space from the bar to the window in just a couple of frog-like leaps, and was squatting on the orc's back before the big policeman had even come to a full stop, tickling his inner ear with the barrel of his gun.

Perfect. A hostage situation could keep the pigs at bay for hours, let alone the few minutes he needed here. He briefly considered kicking off his boots so he could grip properly with his feet, but decided against it and instead wrapped his legs as far around the young orc's chest as they would reach.

"Lissten up," he hissed into the officer's left ear, while still pushing the barrel of his gun into the right. "You's gonna step up sslow an' sshow your face t' tha' window, got it? An' handss up too, big boy. That pretty lil' vesst y'got iss a bit better f'r me th'n you right now, oh yess. Niiicce an' sslow, c'mon, less' move 't."

 

[Requiem]

Kanin's mouth burned with the sudden appearance of the freshly cooked bacon. The top of his tongue was charred, leaving the taste buds rough and raw. He wouldn't be tasting anything for a day or two. The insides of his cheeks also hurt from the foolish decision to eat the food so quickly.

As the Elf dealt with that and began working with the bleach, an Orc plunged through the window. It was a cop. Fortune reacted instantly, ready to take care of himself and no one else.

"Kagrin?" Malone asked. "I... I'm glad to see you, but..." Her head throbbed once again with knowledge that she shouldn't have. She'd seen the Orc, known him well... but not in this life.

"Fortune, we don't have time for this. Kagrin, give him your vest or we're gonna be here ten minutes longer than we need to be." She pushed through the pain, letting her mouth go on its own. She raised her arm towards the open window, then snapped her fingers. A thin strip of light, some sort of physical light-based construct, covered the broken window.

"I don't have time to explain, but I think he's on our side. My fuckin' mind won't let me think otherwise." Malone stumbled to the TV near the bar and switched it on.

"What you're seeing now is footage from moments ago as a police officer, an Orc whose identity we have not yet ascertained, jumped into the Brigand's Barroom just before Porian law enforcement would have broken their siege and arrested the suspects. Whether this officer is in league with the suspects, only time and investigation will tell. And it appears that one of the suspects has some form of Light Magic as they are now barricading themselves against the police. This doesn't seem like the actions of an innocent group of people, folks. Eye in the s-"

She shut the TV off. "Fuck those guys." Malone dragged herself along the bar, knocking down stools in the process. She continued to clutch her head. "Whatever we're gonna do, we better do it fast because I don't have all of the answers yet. We can't... stay here..."

 

[Easy]

"Our sside? He'ss a cop." Fortune retorted. "Might be on your sside, pinky, but uss gobbos can't trust 'em. sSoon's I turn my back he'll be sshootin' up ssome unarmed lil' green kidss, right copper?" He snatched the cap from Kagrin's head with his free hand, and nudged him again with the gun. "C'mon, up we go. On ya' feet, porker."

Then, as if by afterthought, he glared at Cassandra. "An' the name's Miless. Rhymess wif' smiless. Don' forget 't."

 

[Tirin]

Though Kanin was pained by the burn he didn't make it known, and had no regrets in any case. He took the bleach and drain cleaner from the counter (and some large glass bottles as well) and was walking to the front door when an orc burst through the window. He tensed for only the briefest moment, quite unprepared for the threat with his hands full, and... continued on his way as Fortune got to handling the problem. Setting down the chemicals for but a moment, he proceeded to pull the switchblade from within his pants pocket and slash around the left arm of his jacket, pulling it off and then cutting it into a few strips with a precise, practiced hand. He proceeded to empty each of the glass bottles, and filled a few with drain cleaner and the remainder with the bleach before resealing them. If he recalled correctly, Poria PD usually breached through the latch (in his experience, the best way to go about it), and so he tied the filled liquor bottles together around the inner doorknob; when they shot through the lock, they would also spring his trap, and whoever was first through the door would get a lungful of chlorine. Worst case scenario, they'd shoot the hinges instead - but even so, he'd be able to break the bottles himself from the kitchen.

It was then that the narration of the siege cut off, and Kanin turned to stare daggers at Cassandra. "Turn that fucking TV back on so I can do a better job. All of you get out of sight of the door - 'specially you, fuzzie, can't have you screwin' this up." The words were an order rather than a request, and he waited only just long enough for it to be heeded (all the while drawing in magical energy) before shouting "D-don't shoot, I'm surrendering!" He then opened the door (remaining out of view, of course) and projected an image into the minds of all of the police out front, one of a shaky suspect stepping out from the shadows of the Barroom before the door was shut and locked behind him. The suspect was nondescript by design, used to cut down on the energy Kanin used; rather than forcing every officer to see someone in particular, each saw a different man with his hands up, pulled together by the thoughts each had of what the surrendering suspect may look like. He would only need to hold the "illusion" for twenty to thirty seconds at the most, and so focused intently on doing as such while drawing deep, measured breaths from the air alongside every last mote of mystical might, walking behind the counter and watching the TV for the force's reaction. The more chaos he could sow before they entered, the better.

 

[coolpool2]

Sacha choose to let the others deal with the orc. The less it got involved, the better. Nothing wrong with being a bystander to avoid making enemies with the wrong people. It was starting to wonder if the strange lady just thought she knew everyone from the way she acted. So far she seemed to think she knew all those she came across so far, and yet they didn't act like they knew her. People don't introduce themselves to those they already know. Unless they have memory loss, but what are the chances of that? It was curious, did she hit her head too hard? Or was there something else behind it? The others were rather curious as well. The goblin's gun was likely not just for show, judging from how quickly he decided to take a hostage. The elf seemed dangerous. He must have a lot of confidence in himself to try and fake surrender like that. It was also exciting to meet a less common species like a dryad for the first time. For some reason Sacha felt like she had met a dryad before this morning, but quickly ignored it. She also appeared to be a fellow user of cold magic. The halfing wasn't very noteworthy. Sacha put aside its curiosity for the moment, for now it had to focus on escaping.

Sacha stayed put where it was. It readied itself for what would happen in the next few minutes, ready to flee or spring into action. With the hostage situation, and the chemical bomb, someone was going to incite something very soon.

 

[Chlegyr]

Now, being immediately captured and a gun pointed in his ear was one thing, perhaps something that could have been completely expected given the circumstances. Kagrin groaned as the goblin leaped onto his back, the shards of glass grinding between his vest and the sawdust and alcohol sprinkled floor, truly a wonderful smell. What was an even more pleasant experience was the gun pressed into his left ear, whilst a steaming drunk goblin slurred half formed threats into his right one. He could smell the reek of spirits on his breath, even before he'd opened his mouth. Were it not for his training, he may well have begun to panic. Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach, threatening to overflow.

Looking around briefly, he spotted some figure far off doing something nefarious with a bottle of bleach, and some kind of dryad maintaining a wall of ice daggers in the corner. None moved to stop the goblin, and instantly the regret rose a little higher. These did not look like innocent people, and the thought that he might have been mistaken somehow flooded into his mind. If he was, and was somehow aiding the murderers that killed the Empress and their children, it was worse than simply dying. He would have been betraying all he stood for. What would his father think?

He decided to calm down and shut his mouth until he got a more accurate picture of what was going on. He was prepared to call the goblin out on his bluff, realizing as well as he that a single shot fired would spell the end of whatever holdout he was planning on staging (without heading into the basement like he knew they had to), when the strange elf seemed to greet him like she would a good friend. The same feeling of overwhelming improbability that first appeared when he matched the name of the bar to the text in the briefing room seemed to rear itself again, momentarily ignoring the cold barrel next to his face.

"H-how do you know my name?" He managed, grunting with the effort of raising his head to stare intently at her. Tempted to simply shake the goblin off, he realized the drunkard might actually fire in surprise or spite well before he got the chance to get up. Hearing the demand for his vest, as well as the elf demanding he give it up much like an exasperated mother might try and negotiate between two children throwing a fit, he never got a chance to rebuke it.

sSoon's I turn my back he'll be sshootin' up ssome unarmed lil' green kidss, right copper?"

Anger filled him, the accusation downright filthy in Kagrin's mind. "Say that without... urk... a gun to my head..." He slipped out of the vest, rising slowly to his feet as he did so, getting a better look at the small green inebriate currently pointing a 9mm at his face. Throwing the vest to the floor in spite at his feet, he scowled, before looking around and trying his best to commandeer the situation.

"I have very little idea why I'm thinking this, but all I know is that you-" He articulated animatedly, his arm waving around the bar and the various occupants within. "Need to get into the basement and now." Settling back to the goblin (whose features seemed bizarrely familiar somehow), he scowled, letting his tusks slip further out of his mouth. "If you want to shoot me instead, you better hope you don't miss."

 

[Easy]

Still riding the big policeorcman piggyback, Fortune rolled his eyes at the stupidity while pulling the officer's hat over his own head. God, but this one was slow. It was bad enough that he didn't even realize that when accused of being the sort of person to shoot unarmed goblins, he'd responded by reinforcing that very allegation. But interpreting Fortune's taunt as a demand for his vest, and then trying to take that vest off while a hostile clung to his back and held a gun to his head, that was practically primordial.

"sStop 't," he hissed, prodding him a little more with the gun barrel for emphasis. "fFirsst off, I know 'ss hard for ya', but ya don' take orderss from th' human. Ya take orderss fr'm me. Yer th' hosstage, I'm th' bosstage, okay? Y'just follow my lead an' efverything'll work out nicce. Or I sshoot you ffirsst an' her ssecond, sso juss' do 't." As far as the average observer could tell, this was either dead true, or a champion bluff. For a telepath like Kanin, however, the honesty of the statement was clear as day, although there were certain related matters that the little goblin seemed to be avoiding thinking about altogether.

"Now, turnss out we're all gonna goin' th' basement anyway, but first-" without removing the gun, he pulled Kagrin's ear with his other hand, directing him to the now-broken window, ignoring any protest or complaint. In what would seem like an uncharacteristic moment of sympathy, for those who didn't know him personally, Fortune also took this time to lean forward and speak quietly into his hostage's other ear, just loudly enough to be audible over the din of chopper blades and sirens from outside, and much too quietly and from too far away for the others in the bar to hear. "sSorry, bruv," he said, "but 'ss th' only way I c'n think've sso we both get out 'f here. sSo juss' do what I ssay, an' we c'n both be back in our own beds t'morrow." Then, at the window, he looked back up and out as if the whole thing had never happened.

"LISSTEN UP, COPPERSS!" He yelled, from behind the orc's head and chest. "OFFISSER BIGSSHOT P. ORC HERE THOUGHT 'E'D BE A HERO OR SSOMETHIN', BUT LUCKY FOR HIM, WE AIN'T SSO HASSTY! NOW EFVERYONE JUST BACK UP OR 'E'S GONNA GET 'T, ALRIGHT? NOW, YA GOT 'TILL NOON T' GET ALL A' THESSE COPSS 'N' CARSS OUTTA HERE, OR I SSHOOT 'M DEAD! AN' DON' TRY NOTHIN' FUNNY LIKE RUNNIN' IN HERE, OR I SSHOOT 'M A LOT SSOONER!

"NOW, GET LOSST UNLESS YA WANNA GET ANOTHER INNOCENT LIL' ORC MAN KILLED ON TH' T.V.!" This done, and with no sign of ever climbing down from Kagrin's back, he nudged the orc away from the window again.

"'Course they ain't leavin', but they'll prob'ly sstart callin' th' phone t' negosshiate 'n a couple minutes." He said, to the bar's other occupants. He switched the gun to his other hand, making sure not to take it away from Kagrin's head for even a moment, and then reached down by his boot to take Kagrin's own sidearm from its holster and pocket it. "Now we c'n get t' th' basssement."

 

[Chlegyr]

Though obviously in a disadvantageous position to say the least, Kagrin was determined to not let this goblin get the better of him. Unfortunately, it became painfully obvious that this was some kind of hardened criminal type, willing and able to gun him down in cold blood and not lose an iota of sleep. His skin crawled with barely restrained rage as he thought of being at the mercy of this mob scum, used like some bargaining chip to extend his reign of terror for one more day, his fists clenched at the indignity of it all.

Begrudgingly, self preservation and pragmatism became a priority over hard headed pride. "Passenger" well attached to his head, he shuffled forwards to the window, doing his best to keep his head down so as not to catch the gaze of any of his fellow officers. He was downright startled at the apology, seeing as it was such a breakneck change of pace from his previous comments. Perhaps he'd read the man entirely wrong from the start? He sighed, incredibly doubtful that he'd be getting much sleep any time soon. The fatigue began to creep back into his bones, and he very much wanted to wake up on that crumb infested, ratty old sofa about now.

"I'm sorry." He whispered out to the doubtlessly watching scrum of armed officers and cameras beyond, though he doubted they'd notice. The ones he was truly apologizing to likely wouldn't be able to pick it up. Once the goblin was done, and off his back, he could do nothing as his own piece was taken from him and deposited wherever that bastard thought was appropriate. Having a gun pointed at his head was sadly a novelty that was decidedly growing thin. He did his best to calm his nerves, and moved into the bar, swiftly picking out the others in the bar, but otherwise ignoring them.

 

[Requiem]

"We've got five minutes." Malone looked down at her watch. It was nicer than she remembered. More expensive and better taken care of than she was used to. Was it even her watch? "We get down to the basement now or we don't get down there at all." As she finished, the electricity in the bar cut out. The TV went black, taking their eye in the sky with it. "Electricity's gone, but you can bet they'll try to call our phones."

She headed through the kitchen towards the back door, instinctively moving towards the stairs to the basement. It almost felt like muscle memory to her, as though she knew the bar like the back of her hand. She skipped down the stairs two at a time, intentionally avoiding the second to last step and the crack which weakened it. As she made it down, she snapped her fingers again as she had before. A crack of light popped an orb into existence. Though the electricity was gone, Malone's light orb more than lit up the room. She directed it to rest next to the bulb in the center of the room.

"Now I can't say for sure, this is where my head gets... foggy. There's something down here we're supposed to find or go to... I just don't remember what." She racked her brain in an attempt to will the information they needed into existence. "I've got nothing... Kagrin? You ran in here for a reason and we're down here now. What the hell are we supposed to do?"

 

[Jeroth]

To Diarmuid, time seemed to be moving too quickly: An orc officer leaping through the window, Mr. Pigs’ Milk leaping onto his back and holding him as a hostage, the dryad holding a spear of ice, Kanin seemed to be setting up a defense with chemicals, the slime was… well, a slime.

It seemed everyone had been talking about the basement and what to do next. While they were taking their time to discuss it, Diarmuid sloppily ate the bacon and eggs on his plate as if they were his last meal, chewing quickly before swallowing them down. His eyes were glued to Miles and the officer that he held at gunpoint as it was tense. His arms were raised up as he ate - a bizarre sight, but it made it easier for him to harden his arms to protect from gunfire if anything where to happen. Once his fellow suspects agreed upon the basement, Diarmuid was ready to guide them before the strange woman cut ahead of him. It was… strange to say the least. She even avoided the second to last step. How did she know about this?

“Anyway, follow me! Avoid the second to last step!”

His tiny legs scurried down the stairs, leaping over the last two steps before landing. The orb provided an ample source of light for him to start searching.

“I’m not Kagrin, but I’ve heard rumors of tunnels being built here.”



The halfling was placing his hands against the stoneworks of the basement, trying to find anything uneasy or unnatural.

 

[coolpool2]

Sacha was still upset at the lack of answers and the growing number of questions. With no other good options, it decided to follow the others down the stairs with caution. Avoiding the second to last step, Sacha looked around the basement.

With its face emotionless, it carefully watched the strange lady as it kept a safe distance behind her. There would have to be a great deal of questioning later. Sacha wasn't sure what to make of her anymore. Something about the way she acted felt suspicious. First was the way she acted, even if she knew everyone from the last night, there was also the fact that she knew a cop, without explaining why. Who just happened to be the cop that suddenly jumped into the bar. The convenient magic barrier could be chalked up to coincidence. Overall she seemed very eager to lead a group of accused criminals. Sacha was aware that it was just being paranoid, but it had to wonder if the lady was some sort of secret government agent. It was very unlikely, but the doubt lingered in Sacha's mind. For now it would have to cast aside its suspicion, if she really was to be trusted, time would tell.

In a quiet voice the slime spoke up, “If there are tunnels I might be able to help. That being said I... um, don't do things like this often. But I might find something.” It slowly moved around the room, occasionally tapping the ground and walls. Its sight range wasn't very far, but it could see through walls and objects to an extent. As it looked around it careful listened for noise that would indicate a hollow passage.

 

[Tirin]

Though his elven eyes weren't inconvenienced by the darkness, Kanin cursed the police when the power was taken out. They couldn't have known why specifically he wanted to watch the proceedings from the outside, but limiting the information they all had to draw on was a damn good move; he would have to do much the same if he was to evade capture. He quickly became thankful that the cop hadn't heard his name yet - he'd have to die if he had (or did in the future), and that would only add to the mess further. He couldn't let the human woman, or for that matter anyone else, reveal that information, and suggesting the use of aliases would no doubt make sense to most of them. It certainly would if backed by the threat of death.

With no view of the outside, Kanin's illusion could no longer serve them effectively, and so the vision of the shaking suspect suddenly disappeared from the eyes of the police surrounding the Barroom. That plan abandoned, he followed Diarmuid, Cassandra, and Sacha down the stairs to the basement, hopping over the cracked penultimate step. He took a very brief look around the magically-lit room for signs of an exit, but was for the moment much more concerned with information security, and abruptly turned his gaze to Cassandra and Diarmuid. "The two of you know my name. The cop doesn't, and I very much intend to keep it that way. So as far as all of you are concerned, my name's James, and our goblin friend is Miles. I'll call any of you whatever the hell you want, but if you slip up and use my real name, I'll shoot you dead - and I'll have to kill the hostage, too."

The grimness of his tone made it evident that he really would murder any of them, and without remorse, were they to make such a mistake - though he didn't want to. His piece said, Kanin went to searching the no-doubt leaky basement for one of the tunnels the diminutive bartender had claimed were present, listening for affirmation from all of them while mentally reaching out to Fortune to inform him of the agreement. As a seasoned criminal, he no doubt saw the necessity of remaining anonymous in circumstances such as these. "So long as we're all together, you're Miles and I'm James. I told the ones down here about it, and that I'll be happy to kill 'em if they fuck it up. If the cops can't get our names or what we look like, getting out of this should be easy." Implicitly, that would mean killing the cop somewhere down the line anyway, but he suspected Fortune wouldn't complain about that; they could hardly make an officer of the law swear to protect their identities, so why bother trying?

 

[Easy]

While Fortune didn't react visibly to the missive, internally there was the mental equivalent of a nod while he thought back: Should be a fight out there soon. Don't panic. Truth be told he was starting to get impatient now that it turned out there wasn't going to be a convenient back exit after all, but reminded himself that it had only been a few minutes since he'd first put the word out to his crew. Not wanting to give either the orc or the human a chance to get the drop on him, he resisted the pointless urge to check his phone again, keeping his gun trained on the orc all along.