Na-Wa avoids big white cats flat hand and sniffs the air around the big white cat, it smelled like no animal. But the big white cat did not want to harm Na-Wa, if it wanted to it would have used his big flat hand.

“Na-Wa no knows guns or traps, Na-Wa knows how to hide in bushes and to make stuff hide with tree branches.”

 There's no indication that the oversized robot cat minds too badly when Na-Wa ducks aside from his slow swipe, and the big hand just settles down on one hip as the visor that serves the giant in place of normal eyes contemplates the simple stalker.

 "Could be being useful Nawa, youbet." he declares, looking up for a moment and then sweeping a different hand through the air, indicating the land outside the city, "We are going to have fascisti - skullheads - coming. They will have guns, many guns." - a sigh, and a shrug follows, as though at the unfairness of life in general - "We will have guns also, not so many. We are needing to make places for us to hide to shoot from, places to make it harder for them to come towards us where we do not want them to come. You are knowing what I mean?"

"No, I don't think he is knowing what you are saying at all pussycat... you know Na-Wa... there are people in this war you just know wont see a single day past its' end. You are knowing anybody like that Nebress?"

clearly mocking Silvermasque while speaking to the psi-stalker...

"I could probably think of a few people Matyss. Perhaps Na-Wa... he seems weak... and small... this war is huge and devastating. Entire cities have been destroyed and this pale skeleton of a man believes he can make a difference. Na-Wa my friend... I can offer salvation if living with your futility proves too much to bare".

 "You know is funny." 'Masque remarks cheerfully, eyeing (or at least visoring) the two Gargoyles as they crack wise, "I was just thinking we will be having need to find volunteers for all night watches and the digging out of septic tanks."

 He huffs on the silvery claws of his upper-left hand, then brushes the knuckles of the same hand across the mercenary-barred set of triple stripes on one shoulder without any particular comment, just removing dust, "Perhaps I should be picking volunteers based on their cleverness, da? - maybe pick those clever enough to unhelpfully flap lizard lips at wrong time?"

 A bright and gleaming flash of yet more mounted vibro-weapons set in the hydraulic vice of his jaw follows the last comment, and he chuckles, looking between all four of his companions, from silent mage-'borg to the two nondescript gargoyles, apparently considering them as individual soldiers rather than generic demonkin for the first time "Or perhaps not - what is it you two are doing, Matyss, Nebress? - Are you being gunmen, mages, cooks?"

"We are soldiers. Not unlike yourself I suppose... in that regard at least..."

Both gargoyles are clearly armed with giant guns and melee weapons. They still havent specified if they are warlocks or not however...

 'Masque chuckles once more, a resonant and not entirely uninfectious sound, "Depends upon who is asking - but Soldier is close enough. Let us say I am someone who shoots big guns, but is clever enough to have foxhole ready for when bad people shoot them back."
 That would be as opposed to the average adventurer then.

 He indicates the guns, the blades... "Are you having any special skills, heavy weapons, demolitions, combat engineering?" he inquires, since he's having no luck finding out what resources are available for the defence of the city from any of the officers he's tried to contact.

   In order to walk inside the building, Oksana is forced to retract her wings.  The blade-like feathers seem to telescope into each other, resulting in a dense pair of wings on her back.  Each one still extending a couple feet above her shoulders and behind her.  If her body were not solid metal, she would surely tip over backwards from the weight of the metal wings.  Each of her footsteps clangs heavily on the concrete floor of the garage as she walks up to Fanel and Deacon.
   "Corporal, we're here as ordered..."

Callie parks her PA in a relatively clutter-free space in the shop, stretching the kinks out of her shoulders as she clambers out.  Under Van's direction she applies herself and her not inconsiderable skills to what she does best: building, repairing, and upgrading equipment.

Those who had not worked and fought with her for the last few weeks would think the young woman had no worries at all as she keeps up a upbeat, friendly banter as the work goes on.  Her friends and companions, though, can see that the strain of waiting is taking its toll even on Callie.

   After gaining a brief magic lesson from Photios, Lotus heads out to meet up with either Magnet Man or Braga - whomever she can find first.  Her helmet is back in place on her head by the time she steps back out into the street and she marches over to her hovercycle.  Starting it up, she presses the button on her helmet-radio.  "Braga, this is Lotus, what's your twenty?"
   As soon as he gives her his location, she'll be on her way there.

 Rumbling unhappily at the strangely silent Gargoyle duo, 'Masque turns his head (though he hardly needs to really) to see what it is that's exciting them, and seems to sigh even more heavily at the combination of what little of the town centre antics are visible and the snatches of radio chatter he's picking up on his rather more than infantry-issue communications suite...

 "I think we are having been forgotten..." he remarks at last, shaking his head at the seeming incompetence of every member of the Tolkeen forces that's achieved a comission, then turning the little computer screen in front of him around to show Obidiah and the two Gargoyles.

 On it are several different sketched-out plans for entrenchment and defence of the area, escalating from 'digging holes and waiting' up to 'maginot line' depending upon the amount of mines, automated guns, ferrocrete, labour and time available.
 There's much use of lanes of fire, staggered cover, routes of maneuver, terrain alteration... Though there's a big '?' over the 'magical assistance' column he's put off to one side, it simply not being something he's qualified to judge on. "Anyone having ideas?"

After completing the construction of his Circle of Travel in the Church basement, Photios heads outside and moves to rejoin his platoon. Not quite sure on what exactly their orders had been he hops up onto a rooftop and takes a look of the town and the current activity.

Xion arrives at the church a few moments after the order was given, and awaits Avery and the others.

   "What the fuck is the matter with these incompetents?!" Lotus responds aloud after she hears Avery order her to "wait" at the church.  She had already left in search of the simvan sergeant.  Now she was on her way back.  "I'm on my way back there now, sir" She transmitted back to the lieutenant.

 The moment of silence stretches out for what seems like a week as the large Tiger-borg looks from Golem to Gargoyle and back again, hoping for some tiny spark of sentience to light their eyes...

 ...But he seems to be dissapointed, and so simply gestures to them and Na-wa to follow along as he folds the computer back away again, having achieved nothing but theory, received nothing much but silence and gained a new appreciation for just how improbable it is that Tolkeen is going to manage to put up credible defence against the hellstorm that's surely coming.

 With further to go than the others, and a variety of speeds to take account of, he's a little later than most to turn up, but not impolitely so.

Hearing the report come over the radio, Callie looks over at her winged compatriot.  "You think they want us to go over there as well?"  Without really waiting for an answer, knowing that Oksana is even newer at this than Callie, she walks over to where she'd parked her SAMAS suit in the workshop and keys the radio.

"Lieutenant Tyirrak, sir, this is Callie.  Sgt Jack asked Oksana and myself to assist 3rd platoon, but they've been asked to meet.  Do you want us to stay here in the workshop, sir, to go with them, or to do something else?"  From her overuse of "sir" and general nervous tone you can tell she's not certain she won't be met with a sarcastic answer.

The minotaur joins Lotus when she sarrives, waiting for th eothers to arrive. He leans to Lotus and speaks quietly so only she can hear... intentionally

"Methinks there are too mnay chiefs and not enough indians in this little parade..."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:34, Sun 12 Aug 2007.

Braga arrives followed by Thresha and Red Talon. The other two simvan are talking between themselves. It is clear they do not include Braga in their reindeer games.

Before long, the entire platoon is together, standing in front of the church facing the Lieutenants Xion and Drake.

"Sorry to pull you guys off the trench and whatever else you were all doing - but now that the meeting is out, I have a bit more direction with what the fuck we are going to do to make sure the CS doesn't run over us when they get here. This building behind me I understand has been cleared out already by Mithas and Lotus. Our job is to turn it into a battle station. The underground bunker is going to become our hospital. I need a few people to make that change - and I need the rest of us to fix defenses and weapons to the church for the coming battle. You guys aren't a bunch of grunts - so tell me what can you do for me. And remember we are all gonna be here when they get here - so don't hold back... your lives are on the line."

"Best thing I could do is continue stockpiling scrolls of destructive and protective spells." Karnon says, "If enough are made, we can equip those with lesser magical talent with powerful attack spells."

 'Masque spends a few moments thinking this one through rather than simply speaking out, but when he does it's simple enough and to the point, straight from the mind of someone with more actual 'being shot at for money' time than most...

 "Is pretty clear if Coalition is getting line of sight with big guns on town, town is being flat. Could be worse if they are having few big missiles." he begins, setting out the most obvious problem before indicating the settlement, "Even church and few other buildings make better targets than bunkers, unless we are having good magic tricks, youbet."

 He lets that sink in for a moment, then half-turns to jerk an upper-right claw-tipped thumb at the land sloping away from the town, "I am thinking we would do better to disperse fire, dig and flash-vitrify trenches for mobility under fire, use revetments and abatis, mines and post-holes to slow down skullheads for us to shoot up, best as we can."

 "I can handle plotting bases of fire, traplines, all the rest, and if we can get Firefly squad we can make things plenty hot for unwelcome visitor, but I am knowing less than bupkuss about what magic-boys can do to help us along..."

"Get to it private Karnon. ANd I like your thinking 'Masque, but these buildings are our last resort - and this one will have wounded in the bottom. We will likely be set up outside of town - but these buildings may be all we got once the shit hits the fan. But I have opther men for that, I will get you a quote on what exactly we have to work woth from Firefly Squad - and we can go from there."

Meph looks to Karnon when he is assigned his task. The shifter walks over next to Karnon.

"I believe I can assist you. I also wanted to talk to you about the summoning of outerworldy help..."

   "To be honest, I've never spent much time preparing for battles - just winning them.  My specialty is taking control of a situation after the shit has already hit the fan.  I can lay some traps and such, or help the Cat-bot dig his trenches.  I would also like a chance to run through some drills - make sure we have fallback cover when we eventually have to retreat to the church.  I'd hate for the boys to be stranded in a foxhole with hot plasma flying overhead."  Lotus' tone is annoyed and sarcastic although all her points sound valid.  It is likely she prefers not to be in charge of planning.

 Even with his preference for large numbers of small, lightly armoured bunkers over one big, not-very-hard-target, Masque is a good enough military engineer (after his fashion) to work with what the team has rather than what it would like... He skritches momentarily at his hip through the oversized BDU's he tends to wear when not kitted out for all-out war, and hmmmm's resonantly through his voder.

 "I guess we could be bracing individual sections of building for compartmentalisation and using deep-piled rubble on lower parts, to be soaking up worst of incoming fire... Upper floors we do not want to be putting anything we would miss in, but maybe rifleman or two, early on... I am guessing is time to be stockpiling sandbags and maybe digging up ferrocreter if we are having access to one?"