R.E.B.O.R.T. stands behind Sypher, crosses his arms, and looks down the bridge of his faceplate. He leans in slightly for dramatic effect.

Beloc stands quietly in the background and watches the receiving party for any sign of aggression.

The chief lets out a low whistle. "I reckon anyone with the stones to pull what you just did would have to be something of that sort. I'll make this quick then sirs and ma'am, what do you need, and how can I help".

Clarke pipes up. "Warrant Officer Clarke. He is who we're here to see, chief. Munitions division".

Chief Kimble nods. "I'll fetch em. Probably in his rack at this hour. And probably best if you wait here. If you're pulling some sort of black op, the less the crew see's you the better. Loose lips sink ships and all that". Chief gives a courtesy salute and exits the cargo space.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:40, Sun 16 Dec 2018.

As soon as Chief Kimble is out of sight, Shiaran whips around to Sypher, her right eyebrow raised in question.

Beloc looks over to Shiaran. "You think he's up to no good? The last thing we need is an alarm raised."

Sypher shakes his head.  "No.  He's telling the truth.  He'll do what he says.  And Shiaran didn't lie.  The truth is always more powerful.  Nothing to see through."

About 20 minutes pass before the door swings back open. Chief Kimble enters, followed by a man in his early thirties. His uniform isn't completely on, and is comprised of unlaced boots, trousers, and an undershirt. A few days scruff sits on his chin, and his hair is a complete mess. Pillow lines streak up one side of his face. As he enters, he stretches lazily, blinking the sleep from his eyes, before looking around and at the party. "Ok chief.. So you wanted to -yawn- show me some stow aways.. What's this got to do with me? I work with the big guns, not the brig".

Clarke steps forward. His voice sounds a bit sheepish, almost as if he's unsure of how he'll be received. "H-hey.. Willard. How's uh, how's life on the ship?".

Whatever sleepiness remains on Warrant officer Willard Clarke's face rapidly goes away. "James? What in the nine hells is this?" he demands.

"These people, they're one of those special teams. The kind that do the stuff we don't get to do or know about. And right now, they need access to the ship's fantail.. and some jump rigs".

Willard's face sours. "The fantail with jump rigs? That would land them right in the keep.. where Elm and the King are supposedly holed u-"". Willards face lights up and his eyes go wide as he finishes his sentence. "..up. They're infiltrating the keep. From above. Bloody hell they're a death squad". He looks at Shiaran and Sypher. "You're gonna rid us of that worm, Elm, aren't you?".

Shiaran keeps an absolute straight face.  "The less you know of our mission, the less can be tortured out of you if we fail."  Then she winks at Willard so rapidly, the man is not even sure it happened.

A wolfish grin spread over Willard's face. "Well.. great. The man's evil, he ties up resources, and he has an admiral in pocket because we all hear he's the reason we have non-engagement orders. This ship could do immeasurable damage to those ground troops outside our walls, but every request is met with denials. Their ships over their heads would be the first little slice of hell we drop on them. I take it too, that I was right in my assessment on you all, and that the crown has found Elm guilty or treason or something, because that's exactly what every red blooded service member thinks of the man. A traitor to his country, sabotaging this war for whatever kind of deals are in his favor. It shouldn't have taken us 10 years now to be beaten back over and over into a corner like this".

As Willard speaks, an edge of anger seeps into his voice. The man, like many you've met, genuinely hates Count Elm.

"How soon do you need to get back to the fantail? I can have the jump rigs supplied to you in minutes, as well as any munitions you might need. Just promise me you'll end this. I can't say for certain, but my gut tells me with Elm gone, this war is gonna be short lived".

"The sooner the better.  We trust James and through him, you, to get us where we need to go the most efficient way possible.  Our goal is to win this war sooner rather than never, too."  She says the last with a gentle hand on Willard's forearm.  The gesture carries no implication, and she relies on the natural effect of her gentle hands to have its calming, trust-inducing effect such as all women have on men.

"We can manage that then. Follow me". Willard sets off out of the space, followed by Chief Kimble, who breaks off from the group to go grab supplies. Willard leads everyone down narrow corridors barely big enough for two people to pass one another. The paths stretch on and on, following the contours of the outer hull of the ship. A brisk 5 minutes later, the party finds itself standing on the aft most sponson of the Luminaire. The scene is reminiscent of the first time the core group met Silas, save for the area of the sponson is larger, and an enemy ship isn't raining down murderous cultists. A red crystal orb gives off a faint crimson light over the hatch leading out. There are no other sources, so Willard keeps everyone in the general vicinity of the light.

"Alright, here you go. It's going to be hard to see down there to hit your mark, so I have chief grabbing a few things for you". Right on cue, Chief Kimble steps through a hatch onto the outer deck with three junior sailors in tow. They go along the full of the party, handing out goggles and harnesses. "Being who you all are, I take it you don't need instructions on how to use this stuff. But.. for my own peace of mind: the harness will arrest your fall. It has one charge, and only lasts for a moment. Use it for a HALO jump. High altitude, low opening. Just pull the orange strap to activate the ward within. The goggles are self explanatory. They can see through all but the blackest of magical darkness, so cutting through the ink of night shouldn't pose a problem. They use some sort of green lenses though, so everything is shades of emerald. Hope you don't mind. I've been requesting the newer generation of the things, but operating budgets are tight. Which, speaking of, I'd appreciate if you could figure on a way to get this stuff back to me somehow. The captain will chew a chunk out of my ass if gear is missing on the next audit. Other than that, any questions?".

R.E.B.O.R.T's interest appears to lie with the goggles. He peers through the glass from both the back and the front while Beloc tries them on.

The elf props the goggles up on his forehead and looks back at Willard. "One question. How long before the drop?"

"Should be there any minute now if not already. The ship remains stationary almost directly over the keep. The bulk of her sits forward of the structure below. We're a literal shield right now in case artillery rains down. So, that puts our hind end sitting on a sweet spot for your drop".

Sypher and Shiaran put the harnesses on and arrange the goggles around their necks for easy access.  Neither says anything unless asked specifically about the fit or equipment, hearing all that is said and taking it all in.  Sypher focuses on the big picture and the goal; Shiaran the details.

As the Whiteraven siblings suit up, so does Beloc and R.E.B.O.R.T.

Beloc looks back at Willard, awaiting the signal to drop.

With preparations made, Willard guides everyone over to the edge. He pulls the pins holding a section of railing on and removes it. He motions to the younger Clarke. "Oy, Catfish, give them a once over and make double sure those harnesses are secure". The young soldier winces at his childhood nickname. "Come on Will, don't call me that". Willard chuckles. "That's "Chief Warrant officer Will" in uniform". Willard sighs but manages a smile. He goes by each member of the drop team and gives them a once over, tightening a buckle here and there, and taking care to only point out a semi-loose strap on Shiaran's harness to allow her to grab it herself. "Good to go, drop team is green".

Chief Kimble steps forward, walking up the line and shaking everyone's hand as he goes. He stops as Sypher who is in front, and looks back at everyone. "Godspeed, soldiers. Don't stop til you have his head on a pike. We're all counting on you".

Willard steps forward and places a hand on Sypher's shoulder. "On your signal sir". At a nod from the young paladin, Willard ushers you one by one in rapid succession over the edge.

As you begin to fall, you feel a rush in the pit of your stomach. Goggles equipped, you can make out the outlines of buildings. Aiming for the northern wing, Sypher, Shiaran, Rebort, Beloc, Garyl, and Sigurd lean into their falls, steering towards the target area with one Leukos diving as best he can to keep up. The entire area is very dimly lit, and will most likely be patrolled by guards wearing the same type of goggles, which explains Willard's idea for low opening on the fall arrest. Behind you the city sprawls, with the occasional flicker of light down on the streets and bright beams from the searchlights near the southern most walls where most of the battles still rage on.

A circular courtyard lies in the center of the north wing, surrounded by diamond shaped towers connected by walls that makes up actual structure. On the left and the right of the wing are very wide parapets. All three spots would make good landing zones, with the parapets being more advantageous, albeit more difficult to aim for.

Please indicate which of the 3 landing zones each character aims for (in a post or via PM/messenger is fine). The central courtyard is diamond shaped like the walls around it, and spans 150' x 200'. The parapets are 25' wide. Large enough to make a landing, but with a Reflex Save to steer and line up correctly

Shiaran, who leapt first to take tactical lead, aims for the left parapet.  Sypher follows.  The Whiteravens land without a sound.  Sypher draws the First Blade while Dhiaran shucks her harness.  Then she draws her bow and knocks a soft arrow tied to a rope, while Sypher follows suit.

Shiaran takes the lay of their LZ while Sypher helps others landing successfully on the tower.  Shiaran notes any who may be off target, ready with a featherfall and the arrow to pull them in.

Garyl lands silently behind Sypher and Shiaran, touching down silently in a crouch. He clutches his service pistol tightly, leaving his rifle slung across his back.

Seeing the evenly split landings, Sigurd opts to stick with Rebort and Beloc. The trio glides down onto the far right of the courtyard, landing near a set up stairs that will take them up onto the walls. The stairs and one other set on the opposite side of the courtyard are the only means of getting up and out it seems.

Having touched down in two teams, the individual groups have managed to stick close to one another. Multiple armed guards were spotted on the way down. Their loyalties remain a mystery, and it isn't far fetched to imagine any figure they find skulking in the dark may be fired upon. Somewhere between the two square towers is Elm's personal residence.. and the other, the supposed location of the royal family.

In the growing list of "somewheres" too is the party of Oro, Gazra, and Kallium. No one has seen hide or hair of the assassin and company yet, with no clear birds eye views of where they may be hiding or if they've made it at all yet.

A chill wind blows as a full moon begins to peek out from behind a heavily clouded sky. The added illumination makes viewing through the goggles appear bright. Not unbearably bright, but much more noticeable than before. None of the guards in view seem to move or stir. The air feels tense, as if the keep itself sense the coming fight..

Sypher and Rebort's sixth senses suddenly begin to go haywire.




Light conditions now allow for use of low light vision effectively for characters with the ability
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:05, Mon 14 Jan 2019.

Sypher holds up a closed fist with his head down and eyes closed.  He continues to concentrate on his paladin senses as he speaks.  "These guards...don't hesitate.  Kill shots against vampires."  He goes silent to think and feel out his enemy.

Shiaran's voice is a whisper in Garyl's ear.  "Garyl, how are you armed?  Be precise."

R.E.B.O.R.T. lands softly, but before he can even cast off the harness, he holds up a hand in warning. "Multiple undead entities detected." He pauses for a moment to ascertain more information.

"Three targets. Vampires. Relative strength, moderate."
This message was last edited by the player at 12:30, Tue 15 Jan 2019.

Beloc quietly draws his silvered blade, releases his shield into the air, and begins scanning the area for hostile targets.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:56, Fri 18 Jan 2019.

Garyl whispers back "I've got my service pistol and a light machine gun. She isn't the most accurate rig but I can lay down a blanket of cover fire in a pinch".
This message was last edited by the player at 18:29, Wed 23 Jan 2019.