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The Ghostly Gambit

Pain and Fear, a Prelude

The time passed, above the foundry, feeling the heat...

The time passed, listening to the noises below - to the forging of weapons and armors, to the repairs, to the singing, to those toiling and those dying - to the frantic movements of the doctors...

And the sounds of embers dancing close to her.

It was early - too early. Few hours had passed since the rebels met once again, but it was already dark, dark night - a trait of winter, northern no less. Never enough sunlight, and night quickly came, bringing cold. Not that it was cold where Kanti stood...

Until she heard the voice. Young, exuberant, like always. Not in pain or hurt like it so often when when they first met... "Kanti? Kanti, is that you up there?"

Kanti: Kanti unfolded herself from the position she had settled herself in, giving herself a small shake, the ash that had settled on her slipping off her, revealing a tracery of small burns on the surface of her skin, from the hotter embers as they had landed, an overlay to the scars that swiftly vanished as Kanti concentrated on it, leaving her skin unblemished

...or horrifically marked, depending on how you considered things. Kanti stared at her arms for a few moments, then stood.

They'd sent Fiona to her, or Fiona had come on her own?

"I'll be down soon ..."

Kanti glanced over the edge, down at the girl, then jumped, spinning in the air, the coat the madam had provided her with flapping behind her as she fell.

She landed in a small burst of fire a few metres from Fiona, and straightened herself.

Fiona: Fiona watches her as she lands, always so impressed...

By Kanti's grace. By Kanti's power...

"How... are you, Kanti?" She says after a moment, reaching her hand to the Fire Aspect tentatively... "Feeling any better? What was with this idea of going to a roof? You should be relaxing!"

It had been Fiona's idea that Kanti relaxed, after all... to heal, to prepare for their next fight....

Kanti: Kanti hesistates, then lets Fiona touch her. No matter what Moon had said about that, Fiona knew already, Fiona wouldn't hurt her for it. Not that she didn't deserve to be hurt for it... didn't she?

It was Mistress who told me too though... I was doing it for Her It must be right then? Right?

"I was relaxing," she starts defensively "I was meditating on the roof. Moon took me up there! I ..." she paused.

Can I lie to her?

"I'm feeling much better."

Fiona: Fiona caresses Kanti's arm, trying to read the Dragon-Blooded's features....

"Moon? Good... I think... what did you talk about?"

So strange, as usual.... that Kanti was the only one she felt at ease with. That Kanti was the only one there that terrified her so, to speak openly...

Kanti: Kanti lets out a small sigh as she feels Fiona's hands carressing her, stepping closer to the young solar ... hoping for what?
More touches?
Sunlit glow?
The warm feeling?
That she'd press for confession?

"We talked about my past, about the time before the Vestal..."

Fiona: "About... your past?" She looked puzzled. They had never mentioned that before... "Good. I thought you would have said some... bad things. What did you talk about your past?"

Kanti: she knows!
she knows what I said!

Kanti spends an agonising few seconds debating whether to tell or not...

"... I told him about Sarah." she whispers.

Fiona: "... You did? And what about it? What did he say?" Suddenly, she begins to turn Kanti around, looking for scars, for any signs of...

Kanti: Kanti lets herself be spun without protest, the act of admission cowing her even more than she usually was.

"He knows what I did to her. He was so angry... he squeezed my hands then towered above me...the rage boiled about him....I thought he was going to rip my throat out..." she carries on in a low whisper, as Fiona spins her.

and for a moment, I almost barred it...invited him to bite down.

"Then he left me up there... he seemed angry, and hurt, and it was all me..." she finishes in the same low whisper.

The guilt of that hurts...
...and that pain thrills.

Fiona: "But... he did not hurt you, right..? No, I see he didn't..."

She holds Kanti's hands... "Don't... don't get like that! He will forgive you... you had no choice... none at all, right? It was what the Vestal wanted... and then, you even, even..."

".. you even hurt me..."

So much...

"I wish I could give you bliss... but not right now. Just..."

Kanti: Kanti grips her fingers lightly, not squeezing, but obviously not wanting her to let go.

"I know I did....I'm sorry...I tried to make it better afterwards ... but I can't argue with Her...and with Sarah... She said it would be Maera if I didn't....I couldn't let Maera touch Sarah...could I?" She looks at Fiona for a forgiveness that isn't all hers to give, her face lightening alittle at the mention of the bliss, before fading again as Fiona says she can't.

Fiona: Fiona holds them, and there is... forgiveness, on her eyes. Or least, an attempt at it. Forgiveness, but not full. Some fear. And understanding. "No... no, you shouldn't. Anything is better than Maera. anything!"

"Mistress... left her to care for me one night... "

"I... suppose I shouldn't even complain... mistress wanted me to keep my virginity... least I wasn't like the other one.. Maera had her bleeding through... bleeding on the inside... "

Kanti: Kanti accepts the small forgiveness, and the understanding, shivering alittle inside at the fear she sees, but she can forgive Fiona that.

"I'm...I'm sorry. I know what it's like ... to be in her care ... "

I remember the time after the son of the Shield Goddess.

Fiona: "And nobody should be left like that." She says, still holding Kanti's hands...

"The... white tedy I use... the dress now. You've never seen the scars she left in me..."

She takes a hand away, touching hr belly..

"But she isn't here, right? We shouldn't waste our breath on her."

Kanti: Kanti nods to her, her mind still on Maera, and the things she did to sarah, feeling somewhat better after Sarah's agreement about Maera.

"No, she isn't."

Kanti nods and looks to flames of the foundary, visible through the windows, the people standing around them

"Would you like to go inside?"

Fiona: She looks inside, feeling the cold... feeling it so much colder, there.

Looking up, Moonlight coloring half of her young face, flames coloring the other half, she sees the night sky... her warm amber-brown hair transfixed into something heavenly for a moment. Colored like the twilight. "No. We should meet mis... the Dark Angel, and Moon!We should do something!"

"I'm not staying idle in the middle of the darkness again..."

Kanti: Kanti smiles at the beauty in the young girl before her, letting her delight show on her face, keeping it there even when Fiona says they should find Moon and mistress.

"...I can't. Moon said I wasn't to look for him ... that he would find me."

and I don't want to find mistress... she admits to herself, guiltily.

Fiona: "Hmmmm.... so he did."

Fiona walks with Kanti inside, drawing the looks of the workers.. at first, shje comes closer to Kanti, scared, and then sees it is not the same thing. Those are not lustful looks, making her seem something so much lesser, ready to hurt her... not the sort of looks Maera would give them, or the Vestal on a darker mood...nothing like the looks they receved in the red-lantern district.

It was looks of praise. Of admiration. Even the whistling felt playful.

"I think I will go look for them... can you wait for me here?" She asks, the admiration ramping her smile up once again.

Kanti: Kanti nods once.

"I'll wait for you here."

Then she watches her go back out into the cold and the darkness, before turning back to the fire, and the people around it, watching them smiling and talking and laughing.

She wasn't sure she belonged here, not alone.

The Ghostly Gambit

Many hours have passed since the start of the rebellion.

Most of the flames already extinguished in the time...

The sky clearing up, showing moonlight and stars. Selina, Kanti and Fiona are not wholly used to it – so dark, so soon. In other places, it would still be twilight, or at least, a dark-blue sky... but, in the Northern winter, the night comes fast, and Luna and the maidens take the sky. All around them, the noise of the medics tending to the wounded, of the soldiers, now a term to anyone who can hold a weapon, working around the clock, of the smiths repairing weapons in the foundries...

But something seems wrong in the air.

The singing of the workers begins to dim.

It gets... colder.

Fiona: The young Solar rushes, turning around the corner where Moon and Selina stand...

“Dark Angel! Moon!”

...and eeps, turning back embarassed, as she sees the two figures together in the shadows of the moonlight...

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Seventh Moon: Still holding Selina's hand as she stands, Moon's head turns towards the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps. His eyes were already waiting for Fiona when she comes bolting around the corner.

"Naw. Ya kinda a lil' late for that." He grinned at the girl, feeling a touched relieved at the distraction. "Whatcha need darlin'?"

Fiona: Turning around, she blinks... and her mark appears over her face, illuminating the alley... and showing how much her mind had imagined something else /entirely/ in those darkness.

She blamed the Dark Angel - her sillhouete looked naked anyway!

"Wondered where you had vanished to. Worried.... It has been hours, Moon. When are you planning to do... whatever you will?"

Selina de Windia: The Night is coming, coming to smother us all.

"It's going to end soon, one way," Selina says softly, taking in the ambience about them, not shivering in the night air even though she does not have her currently-buried greatcoat. "Or another."

It reminds her of the last time she crossed blades with the Bishop's forces. Before this war. When she spoiled an entire invasion by herself.

You will join your comrades tonight, Parishioner.

"Whatever he was planning to do?" Selina asks, looking to Fiona then Moon. "First we have some business to take care of."

Fiona: She looks around, then... so others cannot hear.Making sure she will not be heard.

"Say... one thing I had to ask..."

"I remember you speaking of him in Windia, of the sword being with him... when we met there. But... what about Millia? And Cedric? And... how well did Alex manage to get away...?"

"Sorry to ask this now, but.."

... but Kanti was around before.

Seventh Moon: The look on Fiona's face was priceless when she turned back around and Moon counted help turn a smirk towards Selina. Suppose they were pretty predictable, but it made him wonder just what exactly everyone else thought of the two of them.

"We do?" he answers the Windian, the smile becoming a quizzical look. Moon scratched the back of his head as he waited for an answer, shifting in his coat against the sudden cold. Whatever they had to do, he hoped it wouldn't take too long. If things were going to get started, he needed to get back to the Pack and make sure everything was going like it should have.

And he had to go find Kanti.

Selina de Windia: "Cedric was sick the last I heard of him, Millia was fine. I don't recall the rest right now." She says off-handedly, then looks about, wondering where Iria is. "Where has our dear friend the Captain gone to, I wonder?"

And the rest of them.

"We have to kill the Parishioner, Moon." Selina replies slowly. "That is the only way we will win now."

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: Opal appears, coming around the bend of a hallway, each hand in the voluminous sleeve of her opposite. Her white, pearlesent robes were undeminished by the constant cloud of noxious polution that constantly hung over the place, looking like she had just come from a fresh bath.

She came into view of the general assembly, and arched an eyebrow slightly. "So, we have a busy night ahead of us, then?"

Fiona: "Opal!"

Selina's answer was curt, and that was all about it. Not that she really cared. Fiona supposed. Did it for her mistress, like the Vestal had said... a mistress that was probably so like her own. For a moment, Fiona saw Selina as the Lover's Maera. So easy to bring her in that image...

Waving to the Jadeborn, Fiona walked closer to her...

Selina de Windia: "The Parishioner is a deathknight. Barr is a mortal. Tell me which one you think is more dangerous." Selina says with some exasperation, looking at Fiona now. "Besides, I am not facing him alone. You can bet he won't be alone."

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: She smiles at Fiona, the swell of emotions she saw as Fiona greeted her with warmth brought an unexpected smile to her face, and blocked out her superhumanly apt perceptive abilities.

"Hello, Fiona. I trust you are well this evening?"

Seventh Moon: "That's what ya got them for!" Moon snapped, waving a hand towards Opal and Fiona. "And a whole fuckin' army behind ya. That's about as alone as a workin' girl durin' the shift change atta foundry. I'm goin' after Barr. I owe the fucker."

Fiona: "Same as earlier, Opal." The golden chains rattle around her arms, as she listen to Selina and Moon's discussion.

It was just not for her to interfere...

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: She removed her slender hands from her voluminous sleeves, and placed them on Fiona's shoulders, standing behind her in a rather protective manner. She patted one softly, an unspoken agreement that they probably shouldn't get involved in this.

Selina de Windia: "Fiona ain't a fighter. Opal ain't either. No offense to either of them." She really didn't need this right now. Even Vorpal would bend her stiff neck if the matter was more important. "Can you tell me of anyone else who is so I don't have to go naked, trying to shield sorcerers on my own?"

Wouldn't it figure if I was stuck with the bitch-queen-of-the-boil.

The din of conflict comes to her, faint, in the distance. "Something bad is happening in the Industrial District. We'll deal with that first."

Seventh Moon: "Eh?" Moon's ears twitched, the skin drawing tighter across them as he strained to hear through the pulsing rush of his own blood. He took the change of subject where he could get it. Be damned if he was going to talk through that again. "Where? I don't hear anythin'"

Selina de Windia: "Walls of the Industrial District. That way." She points, then begins walking at a fairly brisk pace. "It just figures something like this would happen..." The Windian drawls disgustedly. "Maybe the bastard decided to attack us and save me the trouble of going to find him."

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: "And what would you have Fiona and I apply ourselves to?" She asked, calmly. She wasn't one of the Warrior Caste, that was true. She devorced herself from her pride and attempted to take no offense in the comment Selina had made. A few strands of her ivory colored hair blew into her face, and a hand left Fiona's shoulder to brush it away.

Seventh Moon: "That'd be nice of 'um." Moon grunted, letting her get a few paces ahead before he started after her. Sticking out an arm, he scooped up Fiona without missing a step as he passed, swinging the little Solar around onto his back, and kept his pace beside Opal instead.

"Comfortable ride, darlin'?" he asked, looking back over his shoulder at Fiona with as much of a smile as he could muster at the moment.

Fiona: "Yes!" She giggled, her hand trying to keep some balance on his wild hair. It felt like being with an older brother...

... which took some of the fear away. She had not heard anything.

Just like in the day in the lybrary....

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: She frowned a bit at Moon as he picked Fiona up and carted her off. Right. Like she was supposed to keep up with the winged Abyssal or the swift Full Moon. She looked up, shook her head, then, headed after them.

• Finally, Opal and Moon hear... something
  
  Quite a characteristic sound....
  
  Clanging, shouting, the patter of feat. Hard as it is to believe, it sounds as if some daring soul has started circus in the district! A festival of life to ward of the cold press of the night and blast away whatever lingering shadows of darkness remain clinging to the earth! What a noble endevour!

Selina de Windia: "Oh this's just great." Selina snarls, the flat glossy black of her scythe's blade coming into being as she grasps the weapon tightly, with both gloved hands. "Fucking figures it happened while we were gone."

The gem at her throat suddenly gleams, and a whirling pattern of wind surrounds her. She dips briefly into the flows of the world around her, and they become visible. "What the hell is he coming at them with?" The Windian growls.

Seventh Moon: ... the hell?

Moon's pace slowed as the sound finally reached his ears and he squinted down the road. Wasn't quite what he had been expecting to hear. People didn't have festivials all that often on the best of days around here. Sure as hell sounded like they were having one now though. It made him smile a little. Hey, if you got nothing to loose...

The Dark Angel must have mistaken it for something else though, so he let out a sharp whistle behind her.

"Darlin'! Ya can slow up. Ain't nothin' ta worry about."

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: The woman had finally lost it.

Opal arched one of her brows toward Selina, for Grey obviously confirmed her own perception that what she heard was a frivolous display. Humans were fond of them, of course, but she did have to admire how they could dance in the face of death. Why would Selina take up arms against that?

"Mistress Selina, I think you might be overreacting to their festivities. Its inappropriately jovial, to be sure... but it doesn't warrent such a conclusion!" she finished, eying Selina's weapon.

Selina de Windia: "He stole your ears" She says flatly, looking over her shoulder at them. "There's an attack going on there, not joymaking. Come with me."

With that, she breaks into a run, taking to the air, the beginnings of her anima licking the air about her, all shadow and grey-cloaked green edges.

Fiona: Fiona watches her go, her fingers holding tightly to Moon's hair...

"Is she always this paranoid?"

Seventh Moon: "But, it's just! Aw shit..." Moon sighed as Selina bolted ahead before the protest could even leave his lips. Moon huffed slightly, shaking his head at Fiona's question. "Sure the fuck seems like it sometimes darlin'... sure the fuck seems like it."

He shot Opal a wearisome look and a shrug. If nothing else, they should probably be there to stop her before she could go bursting in on a bunch of cheerful drunks and scare them all back to wherever they had risked crawling out of.

"Hang on kid." Moon called back to Fiona, his hands coming up to close over her slender arms. Bending at the knee, the muscles in his legs twisted a bulged a moment as the silver mark upon his circle awakened, opening like a third eye on his brow. Then kicking up a layer of dust and ash, he streaked after the wayward Abyssal, scarily touching ground as he rushed to catch up with her.

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: Well, at least Moon agreed with her still. And since there was no disuaing Selina as to the obvious truth of the situation, it was probably best to just keep up with her and stop her from hurting any innocents. She hadn't known she hated celebrations so. With nimble, swift strides, she keeps up with Grey as they persue the Windian.

• As she gets close to the Industrial District's walls, she sees them. Overhead, hundreds of Hungry Ghosts, rushing to the walls... trying to tear wards apart.
  
  In truth, those occupying the Boil were relying most on fear - as the rebellion was showing, the 'Black Cloaks' were just a tiny percentage of the city. Parishioner's demons were a good check that was hidden until today, but Selina and Moon were taking care of that problem well - as did most of the miscellanious higher powers on the Boil. Of course, she had no idea how many were left, but they were dangerous... but less than those numbers. They had stopped the graveyard from rising... but now...
  
  All the ones killed in the rebellion earlier? On both sides, pehaps? Pehaps aided by decades of dead on the Boy's Field?
  
  Who knows... but they were many. And salt and wards would only last so long, with the handlers that directed them...

Selina de Windia: Distraction.

That's what this was. Maybe she was playing into his hands. Or maybe it was a softening for a follow up wave, something that would roll over the entire district. Whatever it was, she had to try and stop it.

Would be a shame if we lost because of a distraction.

Selina flies a bit faster, gaining speed, looking for a good point to attack, throw them off guard. Perhaps she should even shift now...

It will certainly gain their attention.

• The people at the walls do their best.
  
  Salt.
  Wards
  Anything that can be thrown down and will explode.
  
  But it is still just a few guards, even though she sees people mobilizing behind her...
  
  And Opal and Moon sees people running past them, frantic....

Selina de Windia: No, no!

That isn't going to work.

Selina arcs down, lands on the ground in front of her companions. She gestures toward the chaos ahead of them with her weapon, the scythe's blade gleaming faintly, absorbing most of the light which touches it. "Now do you believe me? Anyways, there's a mass of ghosts trying to break through the walls. It's probably a distraction or initial wave for something else."

Fiona: A mass...?

"Do we still got time, then?"

"If it is a distraction, then the big ones are up to something else.... did they have anything big with them? Like the nightmare lord, or an Exalted...?"

Selina de Windia: "None I saw." Selina replies, looking back over her shoulder as she swings the scythe back into a two handed-grasp. "Like I said, let's go and see how to deal with them."

Seventh Moon: About the time the first person went dashing by him in the other direction, Moon knew he had been wrong. If they had been smiling or staggering drunkenly, if they had been laughing and chasing each other, then it would have been a festival. But celebrating people sure as hell didn't run around with terror on their faces.

But from what?

Moon skidded to a halt in the middle of the street, clutching Fiona tighter before she could go flying off his back. As people began to stream around him, he closed himself up for a moment. Eyes, ears, nose; shutting off every sense. And when he pried his eyes open a second later and an ocean of sensation came rushing back to greet him, the veil tore away.

And the sky was filled with wailing dead.

"Holy shit" the Lunar breathed, eyes growing wide. They were gathered up thicker than an ash storm, throwing themselves at the iron fence that was the only protection the entire district seemed to have right now. Not good. This was really not good.

He stepped back as Selina landed in front of him. "Yeah, great. You were right. So why the fuck we standin' around here for? Lets do somethin' about it."

Fiona: "Wait!."

She says, coming down from Moon's shoulder with a regrettable lack of grace, the chains around her arms rattling a bit...

"Dark Angel, Moon... you remember it, right? Earlier? The butterflies? I could clear a whole street with them."

"I still haven't learned the spell I asked for... to deal with something stronger. But I can destroy lesser crowds, probably easier than you do."

"I can help protect them...”

"... and, if they are a distraction... you all can do better than that. Kanti is on the foundry you left her in, Moon... get her, get the big ones."

I can't touch them yet...

Selina de Windia: "The ones will arrive soon...or have already arrived somewhere else." Selina tries to think where it is they would go. Who they'd want to off. If they wanted her they could have done her and Moon awhile ago. Maybe some of the others?

Seventh Moon: Moon looked over at Fiona a moment, then back and forth from Selina to Opal. He remembered the butterflies well enough, how they'd reduced a bunch of those blackcloak bastards to something that looked like it fell out of a butchers wastebasket. It seemed a damn better solution than trying to wrestle down every last one of those fuckers.

"If it's somewhere else, then we gotta find where." he said, answering Selina. He pointed upwards vaugely. "You can fly darlin', get up and try ta see whatcha can see. I'll go get Kanti."

Gonna have to sooner or later anyway.

Moon put a hand on Fiona's shoulder and looked over at Opal. "You two keep here and try ta stop this shit from gettin' worse."

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: She nodded her head toward Moon, a deeply concerned frown on her face a she looks back over the crowd... she could have sworn...

But that doesn't matter now, does it.

Fiona: She is about to begin to run, but stop to look at Opal, "What can do you do to help me with them? I have seen you create that ward before... what else can you do?"

Seventh Moon: Nodding back to Opal, he returned to Selina and tipped his head to the side, the sliver flecks in his eyes spinning as he watched her evenly. "Good on it, darlin'?"

Selina de Windia: "Yeah yeah." Selina says, wondering just what she has to do. "I've gotta put an end to Parishioner...if I can find where he is. If he's not just sitting where he has been all this time."

She had begun to wonder if Vorpal had even gotten her message, on and off for awhile now. There had been no word back, and no showing of anyone.

Maybe they'll come after Parishioner is dead, won't that be hilarious.

Or maybe they're all dead and we're doomed.

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: "Many skills do I possess, Fiona. However, I do not think such are applicable to our immediate predicament." She idly brushed a few strands of stray, white hair from her finely featured face, and bent her mind to the problem at hand. "I might be able to help my Lady Selina with the Parishioner, if he roots his power within objects of power." Her brow knits delicutely as she considered.

Selina de Windia: "Maybe I'll try and sneak in. Can't take anyone with me then." She muses, almost to herself. "Not unless some of you lot are good at slinking around without being seen or heard."

In that, the Pale Angel would probably do me little good.

Seventh Moon: Moon glared hard at the back of Selina's head. He'd have smacked just about anyone for brushing him off like that. One time he'd damn near mauled one of the Pack for less. But then, of course, she wasn't one of the Pack. Or someone he was going to smack any time soon.

The Lunar blew out a long breath. "Yeah, well, just do whatcha gotta do. Try not ta get anyone whose supposed ta be on our side fuckin' killed while ya doin' it." He jabbed a finger against her arm, smiling wanly. "Means yaself too."

Patting Fiona's shoulder one more time, he waved slightly at Opal, walking backwards away from the rest. "I'm gonna go get the kid. Just keep shit together best ya can, a'ite?"

He didn't bother waiting for an answer, turning away and leaping onto to the roof of the nearest building. Answers took time and that was something they sure as hell didn't have.

Fiona: She nodded to Opal, and nodded to Moon. She smiled to both.

"Just... stay alive, alright? Please. We can always fight them again. If something goes bad, run away. If something goes bad, we will go and rescue you!"

Like...

... like they never did with me.

Biting her lip, she ran off then, her essence sight turning in to look at the ward matrix around the walls, to any point that is weaker, a point where they would break through... and meet obsidian death.

Selina de Windia: "Good luck, hope you don't need it." Selina says to him as he leaves, unaware of his state. Not that he needed as much good luck as she was going to soon. Barrs would go down easy, even if he had a retinue. Moon had learned since Spire, she figured. Hoped.

The Windian looks to Opal with a gauging manner. She'd never seen the woman sneak around, had she?

No.

Doesn't mean she can't, but...

"That round arse doesn't move silently, I take it?" Scanning the mountain folk up and down, reading her stance and the rest with a critical eye, her tone is a bit dry with that sentence. "Well, you can help Fiona regardless, Opal. Unless you can stand off and do something. But I've no way to communicate with you over distance."

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: "I am move stealthfully if I am called to, Mistress Selina. Perhaps not with your great deftness, but I am proficient. If you desire I stay with Fiona, however, I shall bow to your wishes and attend her." She slid her slender hands into the voluminous sleeves of their opposite, trying not to hrumph at Selina.

Selina de Windia: "You'll need a bit closer to mine if you want to get anywhere close." Selina says, furrowing her brows at the pale woman. "Unless the Parishioner is a careless fuck. Tell me what exactly you can do."

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: "I can divorce him from his ability to regain Essence and cut him off from his Hearthstones, specifically." She eyed the woman serenely, merely shrugging her shoulders a little bit. "Not to mention I can tie up any bodyguards he might presently surround himself with while you attend to him."

Selina de Windia: "He may have Terrestrials, Nemissaries, or Demons. Can you deal with those?" That hearthstone ability would be useful, but she'd have to keep the deathknight off of her for it to last. "Would this include inhibiting his ability to use the essence regaining crystals of the dead?"

Not normally useful outside of the Underworld, but you never know...

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: "From /any/ means, Mistress Selina." She said calmly. Why was it so important to her that Selina value her services. She frowned slightly at that... no, this wasn't the time for introspection. "Ghosts and Demons are a non-issue. You've seen me deal with them before. Terrestrials are also no problem." She idly glanced toward the ruckus.

Kanti: Kanti is standing outside the foundary Moon left her atop, wrapped up in the coat she was given, the cool air making her breath frost up. She'd tried to stand inside, in the flames, but the looks people had given her, the way the laughter stopped, that had been too much, and so she'd left.
To wait.
For Fiona.
For Moon.
For anyone.

Selina de Windia: "Fine then. Wait a moment, I'll go take a look to see where we'll be going." Selina demures, then spreads her wings and lifts into the air. Once she gets high enough, she scans the city -- as much as she can see -- and tries to decide where she ought to go.

• Selina watches the Boil at night.... on a surprisingly clear night. She sees the Boil... most of the energy calmed already. Outside of the walls, on the Boy's field, she sees traces of necromancy... the same ones she can see on the graveyard, where it was stopped. And then... there is Highlane.
  
  A miasma of ghostly presence hovers around it, and it is hard to make out... but there are lights within, rising to the sky.
  
  Sapphire Sorcery, in a ritual that is calling too much ambient essence.
  
  The path to it, of course, lies through the Hungry Ghosts, the half-abandoned streets, the fiery houses, and into regions the enemy still holds sway... something Selina can, of course, just fly above... and into the miasma around Highlane itself.

Selina de Windia: Highlane, is it then?

The Windian descends back down to the ground, and sighs. "You are going to have to walk, but of course, I have to as well. Flying is too easy to be considered. Especially on a cloudless night like this."

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: "Very well, Mistress Selina. I shall follow your lead. To where will we be going?" She asked, arching a slender eyebrow, her voice toned as if where there shall be having a pleasent evening meal.

Selina de Windia: "Toward all the mess of that sorcerous ritual the old bastard must be casting. Unless it's a decoy to get my attention -- we can account for that possibility." Selina really doesn't seem happy at the thought. But then, if he's well defended, making lots of bright shiny lights would not overly endanger him. Unless that's what he wants her to think.

"Maybe he's calling up Zsofika." The Dark Angel's manner turns caustically sarcastic, though it's not directed at anyone present. "I won't complain. It's been awhile since I've had a good lapdance."

Seventh Moon: "Kanti!"

Moon landed with a puff into the heavy layer of ash that coated the foundry rooftop. He swept his gaze back and forth across the building, searching among the flowing banks of ash for the Terrestrial he had left behind here. The one he'd told to leave him alone, then promised to come back for. "Kanti! Where the hell are kid?"

Kanti: "Kanti! Where the hell are ya kid?"

Kanti was instantly made guilty...she'd been told to wait there and she'd moved. She bit her lip and then called out

"I'm down here Moon. ...Sorry."

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: She scowls a little bit at Selina. "The Messenger Soul of the Prince Upon the Tower is nothing to be flippent about, Mistress Selina." She merely shook her head, and turned her thoughts away from the Dark Angel's cavalier attitude toward the very serious matter before them.

Why did they all have to be so casual about all this? She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as she felt a headache coming on. Its going to be a long night.

Selina de Windia: "Oh I'm being quite serious. She can give a better one than me, according to one...god thing I met once. Surpassing the Dark Angel is not something to be looked at lightly." Selina says grimly.

With that, she sets off at a trot, toward Highlane. Looking at the egresses from their current district, thinking of edging around instead of merely plunging straight through.

Exceedingly Sublime Opal: She repressed a sigh and followed after smoothly running Dark Angel, hoping Fiona would be alright by herself. She bit her lower lip, and forced herself to think about their immediate goals, and not about the twank of pain that twisted her heart when she thought about Fiona being hurt. Moon said she could take care of herself, as could Kanti... but that still made her mind flash back on unpleasent memories best left in the past.

Grey: Down here ?

Moon looked down over the edge, picking out the little figure among the shadows at the base of the building.

"Stay there!" he barked, though wondered to himself the next second where exactly she was going to go. Heaving himself up over the lip of the foundry roof, Moon's coat whipped through the air as he plummeted down to the street beside Kanti, landing on bending legs with a stone-cracking thump.

"Hang on..." He breathed as he rightened himself, face flushed as he dizzied from the rush of air. His face wasn't smiling like he knew it should have been. Nor was there any disapproval in his eyes when he looked at her. Just empty on both. Unwilling to feel much of anything about her right now. Dusting off ash that had somehow clung to the shoulders of his coat, he held a gloved hand out for her. "C'mon. We got work ta do."

Kanti: Kanti just noded as he told her to stay put, not even considering where else she might go, her eyes tracking the dark shape as it fell towards her, wondering just where he'd land.

...his eyes are dead to me....

Kanti shivered slightly and took his hand, letting him lead her where he would. At least he wouldn't make her hurt people, just kill them.

"Yes, Moon."

Grey: Scurrying to and fro, they crawled through filthy and flame and ruin. Like rats in a boneyard, they picked and scavenged off the dead and the lost. Bodies of friend and foe alike stripped clean and the ghastly prizes tucked away into bolt holes as they ventured out for more. Many of them got caught. Mostly those who were too brave or too foolish to heed the warning they'd been given. Those who weren't killed on the spot would face hours of agony at the hands of inhumanly skilled torturers, but they'd never talk. There was nothing they could say. They had orders, but they didn't know the plan. It had been too vague when they had heard it anyway. Their frustrated interrogators would break their necks and raise their bodies to join the ranks of the walking dead.

But there were always more creeping through the catacombs of the quite city, plundering the dead, raising hell in the alleyways. And they were far from alone. There were people in the cities warren still; those who had fallen behind, who had chosen to stay behind. People with nothing to lose.

Blackcloak patrols soon began to fall further and further back out of the Ash District. It wasn't safe to travel through there anymore. Wild-eyed men and women would come racing out of shadow just long enough to thrust a knife into one of the dark servants before slipping back into the swirling darkness or lean down from the windows of the cavernous buildings to pepper the blackcloaks with heavy stones and sharpened bits of iron. The necrolites sent out to raise the corpses of the fallen soon found that their work had been carefully sabotaged. Bodied with their knees and arms purposefully shattered, their teeth kicked in and their hands cut off to make useless zombies of them. Buildings that had been ransacked and filled with corpses to be used later were lighting up as quickly as the stars overhead, turning the gruesome armories into crematoriums.

The dead were use to being lords of the night, but they learned quickly that in the Boil someone else had already claimed that title and was ready to fight viciously to keep it.

Only an hour had past when the first of the Pack began to filter back out of the mire of the Ash District and slip through the iron fence to the safety of the Industrial District. They had listened to what Moon had told him, gotten through the night with only two being snatched up by the dead, and made it out with exactly what they needed. Bundles under their arms, they hurried off to makeshift forges and thaumaturgic laboratories to deliver their prizes.

All across the rest of the Industrial, blacksmiths had been hard at work to sharpen blades and close armored rivets up, but a handful had just been waiting. Waiting for the sight of grinning and grim faced street punks to come through their doors and deposit messy piles of scavenged armor onto the floors of their workshops. Hammers fell and sparks flew as they began to pound new shape and additions onto the plates of iron and steel. Chains, spikes, curling gothic faces, crude black skulls, and inlays of animal bone. They took armor pulled from corpses or out of shop display windows and beat it into something dark and hideous. Something worthy of the dead.

By the second hour, most of the armor was already being hauled swiftly to the warded rooms and runic circles of enchanters and alchemists. Hobbled together laboratories began to bubble with arcane energies and the air filled with the murmur of solemn chant. The delicate threads of mortal Essence began to weave themselves through steel plates and wicked blades dipped into potions and poisons. Subtle illusions to lay down over the black sooted armor, to eat away whatever warm life-like glow remained among it. Subtle enchantments to ease the weight and allow confident and steady motion for those who had never worn an iron stove around their chest before. Steel-mages, the uncertain practitioners of an art which had spawned a god, set aside scholarly rivalry and pooled together their knowledge, soaking grim blades in chemical and ritual. Swords that twisted the air in a hellish heat. Axes that glistened with rime-ice and chilled the air around them. Wickedly curved knives whose weight could barely be felt and seemed more shadow than steel. Weapons worthy of any honored servant of the Bishop.

Not far from where that work took place, the Pack stood clustered around the door to a hastily converted watchmakers shop. They pinched their noses at the pungent scents of boiling chemicals and waited, eager to peek within at the goings on. Inside the newest soul to join the ranks of the Exalted sat on a rickety stool behind a curtain among, while alchemists and harlots both fussed over her with jars of odorless white paste and strung her hair into barrels of black alchemical dye. They made her drink tinctures which tasted like dog sweat and reeked of blood, but turned her eyes a darkly glowing red. They painted her lips and nails, stroked greases across her eye lashes, clipped and styled her long hair. Clothing and armor arrived stranger than anything she'd ever worn. Skin tight leathers polished gleaming. Armor of black iron and bone ensorcelled to reflect vague, ghostly faces. By the time they were finished and held up the mirror, Hanna couldn't even recognize herself. Her skin gleamed like frozen marble, her hair glistened black. The young Terrestrial took a long time to examine herself before her black lips stretched into a wicked grin. Jutting a hip to the side, she turned back as the curtain was pulled away to a sudden flurry of hoots and cat calls from the grinning punks outside the door. With a smile to curl toes and weaken knees, Hanna elegantly raised a black gloved hand and extended a middle finger at them.

As the rest of the armor began to arrive, the Pack plucked out what they wanted from the backs of wagons and headed off with their blackened prizes underarm. Off to small building tucked away in one lonesome corner of the district where two men sat together among a gaggle of children. One was dead. The other was only half dead. Candles burned in a circle around the ghost, their flickering light falling across the wards carved into the very stone of the floor. Manacles clasped over the dead man's wrists, the characters of warding inscribed upon them flaring up in ghostly light every time he tried again to pull himself free of the physical world. Each time he failed. Each time the half-dead man would look up from the circle of children who sat on the floor in front of him with their eyes wide and mouths gapping in awe. The smallest of smiles would touch the half-dead man's face, a little wicked and a little dark and he shake his head disapprovingly. There were some fates even the dead could not escape so easily. The dead man would tremble. The half-dead man would look away, back to the enraptured audience before him, his eyes lighting up as he spun again another tale of mystery and adventure to keep the little ones thinking of anything other than what happened outside of these walls.

The half-dead man's eyes flickered up as the gang members began to arrive and he gestured them into a corner to prepare themselves, not breaking stride in his story. Everyone had a part to play. Twelve Jeweled Skull Rabbit's simply had yet to begin.

The Boil had many strengths that were often missed by those who tried to place themselves above it and look down. Tonight, they were all being put to use.

Yes, botched Awareness rolls. Kinda dorky, but you HAVE to have fun with botches... ^^

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