Over R.E.B.O.R.T's shoulder, Oro is able to see:

• 3 atomizers - commonly found in perfume bottles
• 1 small glass container - as close to spherical as possible
• spool of thin metal wiring
• thin sheet of conductive metal

The list continues a bit more but becomes a bit more mundane as it goes.

Oro peruses Rebort's list. "Hmm. Well, I can say definitely where to find the first two items, though I doubt anyone here wants to draw the short straw on where to purchase them at midnight".
This message was last updated by the player at 00:51, Mon 05 Nov 2018.

In canine form, several yips and barks come from the druid, but no one is able to make anything out. Except for maybe Apache. Beloc growls quietly in defeat and quickly shifts back to humanoid form.

"Given our current predicament, we could always leave them a silent donation."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:02, Fri 09 Nov 2018.

"I suppose you could go that route. I was thinking more along the lines of courtesans. They're bound to be working this hour, and undoubtedly would have perfume bottles they'd part with for a fee".

Beloc shifts uncomfortably in his armor. "I hadn't thought of that, but certainly an option as well. Rebort, how long do you need to craft this device of yours?"

R.E.B.O.R.T. pauses for a moment to process the request. "With the proper components and Shiaran's assistance, one hundred and thirty-six minutes." After a few seconds hesitation, he adds "Give or take", but it's unclear why. Perhaps to indicate a measure of uncertainty, or just to seem a bit more 'human'.

"We've but a little less than six hours until sunrise. Uncle Oro, perhaps you could bribe the courtesans while the rest do their part?".

Oro nods. "I suppose if it's my own idea, I should do the leg work. I'll be off then" he says, before slipping out of the door silently.

Sigurd looks over Rebort's list. "The wire.. hmm. I don't know where we'd get a spool, unless shorter lengths would work. There's probably enough wire hanging the picture frames in the room to manage that. The metal though.. I doubt any smiths are welcoming guest at this hour..".

"Tear apart one of those fancy ovens? They have sheet metal sides from the looks of them. There was one in the back of this place. A few of the crates downstairs were metal too. Probably nothing seriously thick. Extra housing to keep the rats our or somethin'".

"Yes, shorter lengths will suffice. The plating is meant to serve as a foundation to embed the atomizers and hold them steady, so it should be fairly thin in thickness and something we can cut into strips. The wiring is simply a means to bind the various components together around the stasis unit. The stasis containment unit is meant to be fragile so that it ruptures on impact, forcing the liquid through the atomizer and dispersing it over a wider area."

Over the course of the next two and a half hours, Oro returns with the perfume bottles fully intact and empty. The rest of the supplies have been gathered, and using what he could scrounge for tooling, Rebort is hard at work fashioning and shaping his cryo-grenade. The perfume bottles are relatively thick, designed to withstand a drop from a countertop or nightstand.

Leukos returns and sits on Shiaran's shoulder, purring softly in her ear, no doubt speaking to her.

The rest of the group have been doing their part for preparations, with the scouting party finding the supply depot where an airship will lower its cargo wenches to on-rep. The depot was lightly guarded, with seemingly only three guards and a control officer manning the communications console. Loads of crates sat bound in cargo netting, giving the impression the hard work had been done earlier by far more than the three guards. I wouldn't take many people to hook a wench to the eyelets at the tops of the cargo netting though, which would explain the light security currently.

The soldiers back at the mock counting house have all for the most part sobered up, having been given plenty of water and time to rest their eyes.

Clarke walks over to Sypher, extending out his hand. His face looks a little pale, and his voice starts to crack a few times. "Here, sir. It's a lieutenants emblem. Should help you out if you need to exercise some authority. I um.. I noticed none of you wear your rank, or even a uniform - well, except for Miss Shiaran's coat, so I reckon that might make things a little more difficult for you from time to time. Just uh.. please, return it when you're done with this Elm thing".

On further inspection of the insignia pin, there is a name etched on the back. It says "Alphonse Clarke".

Sypher tosses the emblem slightly and puts it in a pocket.  Then he salutes Clarke in serious fashion, a show of respect.  "If all preparations are made, we need to head out.  Time approaches for that resupply."

Sypher, Shiaran, Clarke, Rebort, Sigurd, Garyl, and Beloc move along the dimly lit streets, silently. This particular part of the city is higher in elevation than the outer ring, giving glimpses of the city scape between buildings. Massive search lights patrol the skies in anticipation of enemy aerial attacks, while the occasional foot patrol passes by. Between looking natural and Clark and Garyl still in uniform, none of the passing patrols give a second look to the group. Those who stayed behind will be lead by Oro, primarily consisting of the Tiefling, Gazra,and Kallium. Krem will stay behind with the remaining soldiers to guard the tunnels in the cellar, just in case anyone finally backtracks the party.

Clarke has agreed to get onboard the Luminaire and contact his cousin for supplies, and then break off from there on the condition that when the ordeal is done, Sypher and company will vouch for his being AWOL. Garyl however intends to stay with the group, acting as a guide for what he can.

The main group makes it to just outside the staging area. It's a large, two story, squared off raised platform with a service elevator in the center. Three guards stand outside the elevator. Sandbags line their position and a heavy machine gun nest sits unmanned. More sandbags line the perimeter of the loading platform, with no one visible.

High above, the feint outline of a behemoth class battleship looms overhead, barely visible save for Beloc's elven sight.

"So what's the plan, sir" asks Garyl.

"Clarke, Shiaran, and I will pose as unscheduled 'relief'.  Shiaran and I bear the same rank, but she is quicker on her feet mentally than I am so she will handle the talking when questions arise.  Clarke and I will just stand there and look official and composed.  If things go well, they buy the ruse and go get some rest for a bit.  If not, we subdue them - without killing them or even hurting them if at all possible as these are our men, not the enemy.  Either way, we will get on that ship."

He turns to the others.  "The rest of you will stay just out of sight and quiet.  If our moves become aggressive, come running.  Likely it will be over before you get to us, but just in case these guys are more than they seem, it will be good to have you there.  We have to be in position well before the ship arrives so they don't see any potential disturbance down in the depot itself."

With all in agreement, Shiaran and Sypher make their way up to the three guards. They eye the two of you suspiciously.

"Men."  Shiaran nods in greeting.  "Peaceful evening here?  Better than down there, I imagine."  She tosses a nod toward the lower part of the city.

"Sure is ma'am. Ain't a bad place to be at night. Still though, be lyin' if I said I didn't wanna at least shoot one a' them deaders".

Shiaran gives them a simple smile, intent on keeping them focused on her as an officer, not an opportunity.  "Well said.  Unfortunately, I am not here to reassign you to the front lines tonight, gentlemen.  I'm only here to relieve you for the evening.  Shall we go inside and make this official with the officer in charge?"  She motions toward the door of the depot.

The guards look at each other, puzzled. Then they notice Sypher. The front man gets a sly grin on his face. "Oh I see. Heh, yeah sure ma'am. Funny place to find privacy for you two, but heck, I ain't arguing with a night off".

Shiaran, and thankfully Sypher, make no motion to acknowledge or deny the implied accusation.

The guard turns around and yells to the top of the loading platform "Hey sir! We got some soft hands down here that wanna take over for the night".

A portly man pokes his head over the edge. "Wha?" he calls back.

"Couple of LT's down here wanna take over and rough neck for the night. You care?".

"I guess not. They probably have better bearing and manners than you lot anyhow. Jobs easy enough even the deaders could do it. Send em' up. Be back before shift change, I don't want your sarge cussing at me again cause you pulled more of your shit".

"Can do sir. Enjoy your night. We'll stay out of trouble.. Yeah right". He turns back to Shiaran and Sypher. "Gigs all yours, sir. Ma'am".

"Thank you, Private.  Do enjoy your night off."  She nods at him again then steps past without another thought.  Sypher follows.

Once inside, Sypher and Shiaran find their way to where the comm officer is working.  Sypher enters first and takes up a position off to the side.

Shiaran motions for Clarke to precede her then follows him in.  She gives Clarke a moment to speak if he recognizes the officer.

Clarke glaces over at Shiaran and shrugs, a blank look on his face.

Shiaran walks up to the comm officer.  "We're here to relieve you.  Anything in particular we should know before you head off for some rest?"