Difference between revisions of "Save Ferris"

Revision as of 18:32, 16 February 2010

Refugee Enclave - Comorro Station - Comorro Station - 23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC) A model of efficiency in both design and use of materials, the refugee district of the Comorrite Hub consists of a series of cavernous nooks and winding tunnels tucked away from the bustle and activity of the main residential community. The twisting passages lead to various cartilagenous caverns that have been converted into "hole-in-the-wall" habitats, home to multicultural families displaced by the Casparan Rift. The otherversers are a tight-knit, stick-together people, and often connect to each other's homes and share in the responsibilities for raising and caring for the young. 23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)

It's a fairly quiet afternoon in the refugee enclave aboard Comorro Station, all things considered. With the downfall of Zar Hideg Fekretu, tensions have lessened to a certain extent. Still, denizens remain understandably tense even after a year in Hiverspace. Will they ever be able to return home? What will home be like, if that day ever comes? Or is *this* the best they can hope for in the way of a home anymore - life aboard a living starship who has expressed on more than one occasion the desire to be rid of all these extra inhabitants.

So, yes, it is relatively quiet, but it isn't altogether calm. What tranquility exists is shattered by the cry of a female human who comes running out of a hovel, shouting: "Ferris! Where are you?" The woman looks around, frantic, seeking the source of her own immediate concern.

Toromok clops through the refugee enclave on his regular patrol, and his ears twitch in the direction of the woman's frantic call, and a turn of the head spots the source of the call, and he starts to head towards her, his tail swishing a bit more rapidly than usual.

Leaning against one of the many organic walls in the enclave is Miklos. The Aukami watches with green glow in his eyes as the normal activities take place, children playing, people going about their business. At the outburst he begins to push off the wall, but seeing the horseman headed the woman's direction he waits a moment longer.

Naoi is coming out of one of the hovels that line the wall, the caves a home of a family that waves at her as she departs. One she happily returns. Of course, when that scream goes out, it is more then enough to freeze her in her tracks, attempting to pinpoint the source.

Redmask stalks through the crowded quarter with his scarf drawn up on high so as to cover his snout. The Wormhunter's golden eyes scan the area warily; one hand sneaking under his robes to clutch at the hilt of a hunting knife. The Demarian's ears start to turn back at the woman's call, but it's just one more shriek in the daily cacophony.

Subhan is positioned somewhere near whatever can be considered the center of the enclave, the artistically inclined Lomasa sporting drawing pad and pencil. Observing one refugee in particular, the Baroness sketches away, apparantly to absorbed in her work to notice the shouting immediately.

Volidana is walking into the enclave, four year daniel, holding lightly to her hand and skipping along as his eyes search for other children with whom he has come to play. At the sound, Volidana grips her son's hand more tightly, searching for its source.

The distraught woman, wearing threadbare garb of silk and lace and speaking with an accent that her ilk might recognize as Fastheldian, continues calling out the name of the missing child. As she hears the clopping of Toromok's hooves, she turns and then jerks back a bit, eyes widening. Apparently, she is not yet accustomed to the strange aliens who make up so much of the station's population. She seems ready to turn and run back inside, but she's clearly torn - she looks around, desperate, and calls again: "Ferris!"

Toromok clops up near the woman and offers a nod. "Comorro security, madam. May I be of assistance?" he offers politely.

Naoi does not spot the woman first, no, but Toromok? Toromok stands out, and using that as a guide, she slowly joins him at his flank. Quietly, of course, until she notices that response. "Mistress, please stay calm. We need to know who or what Ferris is, and where you saw them last. Calling for him will not likely work, for if he was lost, then he would not be so close to your home."

Miklos simply continues to watch, eyes still glowing that neutral green color as he pulls a PDA from pocket and begins typing at it.

Redmask also spots Toromok, and decides that he will keep his distance from the alien for a little while longer. His walk does bring him closer to Subhan, and entirely without knowing it he has walked right into her view.

Subhan is at first bothered by the intrusion into her line of sight, but the break brings her back to a state more attentive to reality. First she finds Redmask, upon looking more closely at him, per say, to be an interesting subject, thus sparking the desire to draw him over her previous subject. The page is changed, and she begins sketching anew. However, it also brings the dillema of the missing Ferris to her attention, a frown furrowing at her brow. At least comfortable enough with Demarians generally to approach, she steps up to Redmask and looks up to him with a sidelong glance, "Ah- An unfortunate predicament, yes?" She comments. Of course, this puts her developing drawing of him in view.

"Ferris is my sister's son," the woman says. "My nephew. I have to keep him safe until we can get back home to Fastheld. I was so tired, though. I overslept. I forgot to lock the latch! Now he's gone. How will I explain it to Natia when we get out of this place? What will she think of me?"

Volidana spots the security chief much as Naoi has but hesitates for just a moment looking to her own son. then apparently deciding she cannot stand by with the woman in distress approaches

"Can you provide a description of Ferris, madam? We will begin a search immediately." Toromok asks. "It is unlikely he can leave the station so we will find him."

"Of course, m'lady." Naoi responds, attempting understanding. "The officer here is right though, we have a name and know we need to know what to look for. We will find him." Miklos continues watching, pushing off the wall now to head slowly in their direction, "So many ways to have left the station..." he says softly, almost to himself.

"Tch." Redmask replies to Subhan, though his gaze is on the other Fastheldian woman. "If she failed to protect the kit then she deserves to be punished. The kit likely is fine, the young need to be given time to find their own feet." He finally glances over the rough fabric of his scarf down at Subhan. "...Human female." He remarks to her. "You are...taking my likeness."

"He's a little boy," the woman says, holding a hand at about waist height to her. "Black hair. Blue eyes. He looks much like his father, may he dwell forever blessed in the Light."

Toromok pulls out a PDA and enters in the description of Ferris. "We shall find him, madam, worry yourself not." he says with a reassuring smile.

Volidana prompts "when is the last you saw Ferris How much time has passed

"Ah... please call me Subhan, if you'd like." Subhan doesn't quite understand the reason behind being referred to as 'human female', as displayed by the slight deepening of the furrow to her brow, "Oh, ah- would you rather I not? I fear I found you quite aesthetically interesting." She pauses her sketching for a moment to look better at the gathering around the woman who's lost her child, "Oh ah, well. Yes, I suppose. I ah, fear i've never dealt with children of my own kind. Infant animals many times, though t'is quite different I imagine." Yes, the Baroness seems a little bit flustered. Just a little.

"May he only know it's peace forever," Naoi agrees with a faint smile. "Black hair, blue eyes... any distinctive marks and what was the clothes he was wearing when you saw him last?"

"Subhan." Redmask replies to the baroness, as if testing out her name. He does seem to have gotten better at picking up on human emotions, and his own brow furrows in reply to hers. "You are a human female, yes? You have the extra fleshy bits on your front. They are quite silly." He tells her flat out before shrugging. "You can continue to take my likeness if it's what you want. I don't care." A shadow of a grin can be seen peeking over his scarf. "In fact I am flattered."

"Pray to your light that it wasn't the slugs that took him," Miklos says as he looks to the group from the corner of his eye, "He'll never be the same again after an incident like that."

The distraught Fastheldian woman's eyes widen and her mouth falls open as she hears what Miklos says. Tears come to her eyes. Then a mechanized female voice can be heard from a speakers overhead: "The slugs, as you say, did not take him." Comorro continues: "The boy departed the refugee enclave and found his way to the lift. Sensors indicate that he was last in the gearclanger hub, near the waste chute." This doesn't seem to have a favorable effect on the caretaker. She sags, thumping back against the wall of the hovel.

"Oh well, yes. I am, rather.. i've ah, never been referred to in such a manner, however." Explains the former Baroness. Her sketching resumes though she's a bit distracted by the continuing problem with the missing boy, glancing up regularly to keep an eye on the distraught woman, "Ah- Would you like it when i'm done? I rather don't mind, though I might be bold enough to ask if I might be able to draw you again sometime."

Toromok's ears twitch up at Comorro's pronouncement, and his face takes on a bit of concern. When he looks back to the woman, his reassuring smile concerns. "There are not many places he could go from there madam, so I feel we shall have him soon. Miss Naoi's question is a good one, however, can you recall what he was wearing when he departed?"

"Miklos!" Naoi hisses in response to his helpful commentary, an admonishment already rising to her lips that is stilled by Comorro's timely intel. With a grim expression, she nods at the woman and turns to follow the clue provided to them. "Have faith woman. We will get him." Though she bears no weapons, she does not let that stop her from heading quickly to the dangerous chute that leads to someplace even worse.

"You may keep it." Redmask replies to Subhan, though his attention is on the goings on around the woman, and then up as Comorro speaks. His grin only widens. "And if you wish to draw me again you need only find me." He steps forward as Naoi heads past. "Ho! One-eyed warrior! You are going to the hidden place, yes? I should go with you. It's no coincidence that a true warrior stood in the presence of this announcement."

"Gray tunic and brown trousers," the woman says to Toromok. "You *have* to find him. I cannot go home to Fastheld without him."

Volidana doesn't seem particularly pleased by the news either, though she does take a mo moment to turn and glare at the aukami "If that is where he was last seen that is where the search should begin. Let me return my own son to our ship that i might aid you better. I'll meet you by the chute shortly

Toromok nods to the woman. "We shall." He turns and starts to clop off after Naoi as he heads off to find the lad as well.

Naoi pauses for a moment, a thin crowd passing her as she looks to Redmask. "I cannot promise any glory, friend Demarian, but it is good deeds we go to. A life is precious in these times, in -any- time and I will not turn away your mighty arm or your attuned senses. Please, join us." Subhan is glanced at, and recieves a smile. "M'lady Lomasa, will you be staying? You are the most diplomatic of us, I believe, and we may need you... but it could be dangerous."

"I- Oh. Ah, I am?" Obviously Subhan hasn't considered herself in that light, the drawing pad settled against her chest and the pencil stuck in her pocket. The furrow of worry marring her brow remains, deepening even, "I-- I shouldn't wish the child to remain lost or what-have-you, though I do fear my usefulness may be quite of less value than you apply to it, Mistress Cloth."

"An excellent idea!" Redmask replies to Naoi with a firm nod. Without another word he stoops next to the short Lomasa and wraps a strong arm around her waist before hefting her up and throwing her over his shoulder without any attention paid to propriety or comfort. "Danger is no object when you have a true warrior, burning with that spirit which animates all great deeds, there to protect you! You wanted to draw me, draw me at my finest!" And off he goes.

"Anyone that cares is never without value," Naoi responds, turning back for the elevator. "One woman, one man, with enough heart can change the worl--" Redmask claiming Subhan is met with a blank stare. "Yes, let's... go."

Miklos smirks at the admonishment, "Then to the waste area," he says before heading that direction. "And it doesn't help to sugar coat things, Miss Cloth," he gives an admonishment of his own, "False hope is worthless."

Gearclanger Hub - Comorro Station - Comorro Station 23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC) Only authorized personnel, approved by Comorro herself, are allowed access to the facilities found in this neurological center along the Yaralu's starboard sensory cluster, just below the dorsal spine. Yaralu-spun protective webbing stretches between gray-green rib supports. Glowing symbiote orbs hover above hatches that lead into the ship's navigation vestibule, weapons operations, waste management, and engineering. Tangle cannons are aimed in the vicinity of the engineering, weapons, and navigation doors to hinder hijacking attempts. No such security measures appear to have been taken for the ship's dump. 23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)

Subhan can probably be heard coming, for while not as loud as her initial cry of startlement, the woman continues to emit a quiet whine of worry as she's carried unceremoniously into the area, thrown over Redmask's shoulder. She still has a hold of her drawing pad in one arm, while the hand free of burdens, burdens itself with a handful of the Demarian's fur as she clings, trembling just slightly. She's not even thinking about the embarassment of being carried this way, even, too flustered anyway to be particularly bothered by that small aspect.

Naoi comes in behind Redmask and Subhan's rear, expression surprisingly flat despite the strange compliment of fellows that she rides with. Of course, she has a mission in mind. Something important indeed, a helpless youth close to a dangerous precipe.

Toromok clops towards the Waste Management hatchway, PDA tucked in his belt and his face in a expression of concern and at the same time, determination to find the lad, because once Comorro mentioned where he might have gone, his heart skipped a few beats, despite his success in keeping this fact from the distraught woman.

"Hoof demon!" Redmask bellows after Toromok once he, his cargo, Naoi and any others have caught up. "I am Wormhunter Redmask Lightspear of Clan Thunderstrider and I have come to assist you!" Upon coming to a stop he crouches down and sets Subhan on her feet, clearly expecting her to be able to stand on her own immediately. "Don't worry, I am responsible for this one's protection."

On the deck next to the waste chute is a small brown leather shoe.

Miklos trails in with the others keeping silent for now as he simply scans the area with eyes that shift toward a deep blue. "There," he says spotting the shoe.

Unlike expected, Subhan is a bit unsteady - though this can be considered a great improvement from when she first arrived, when fainting was the order of the day, this is still quite a lot more excitement than she's accustom to. Instinctively she reaches for Redmask so that she might brace against him, like she would Norran were he here, looking perhaps a bit pale, "Oh- Oh dear. One's heard of brave scribes and artists immortalizing the glory of battle as it occured, though certainly I never expected to be one." She breaths in a faint tone.

Toromok spots the shoe laying on the deck, and drops down on his front legs to allow him to pick it up and examine it. "Curious... I hope this is not a sign of what I suspect." he says with a frown, and raises back up.

From the levimodules walks Sandrim, wearing a set of ringmail from his home world. "For the love of," he is saying to Volidana, who travels with him, "all that is good, why don't they just do the smart thing and, I don't know, put a blockade on the entrances to this place? Seriously, everybody knows where it is, and it would keep kids from walking in."

Volidana returns breathless and sans child but she has apparently brought help. Her aura deepening almost purple as she notes the Commander and the shoe

"Yes, I suspect it is" Naoi responds-- her tone now firmly tinged with concern. "I think we know where young Ferris is, then. I do not think this leaves any doubt that his curiosity has led him to a dangerous place, but we have the means to recover him. So let us not tarry. I hope someone has some skill in tracking." Without waiting for a confirmation, she is gripping the chute's filthy rim and sliding down on her back, paying little mind to the grime that stains both her hair and her formerly pristine robe as she slides down into the unwelcoming warzone that is the Regent's territory.

"I had considered using the tangler gun on the boy," Comorro intones from speakers overhead. "However, the impact might have caused some damage to his small body if he was pressed against the bulkhead."

Redmask plants a hand firmly on Subhan's head in what is surely meant to be a reassuring manner. "And now you have your chance! There is no greater glory for an artist like yourself than to capture the warrior's spirit!" He doesn't move towards the chute until Subhan can stand on her own, but the experience of watching Naoi leads him to another comment. "Hurr. You may rest on top of me, if you don't want to get anything on you. Females are fickle in such things."

Miklos frowns, his eyes shifting toward a darker hue of their same color and he follows down the chute after Naoi, "I'm with you, Warrior princess," he calls after her.

Subhan flinches gently with the firm placement of paw to her head, being far more used to the gentle manner in which well, everyone treats her. Overwhelmed, she's quiet for a time as she takes in the area, barely registering Redmask's comment, to which she only manages, "Ah- Oh. Yes, please."

Volidana sighs "Like I've figured out why anyone does anything around here, including myself" as she prepares to follow the others down

Toromok steps back a few paces, looks at the chute, and after making a few mental calculations, gallops forward and leaps, folding his legs up tight beneath his large body and bending his torso forward so he can slight down the somewhat cramped chute as he follows Naoi down.

[ Sandrim stares at the chute wryly. "Everyone so /eager/ to jump into the Shadow's grasp," he says, before a look to Subhan. "Well, if you're staying here, you're smarter than the rest of us." And thus he goes to follow the rest of the foolhardy adventurers down the tubes. Comorro's tubes, of some sort.

"Then we will go!" Redmask informs Subhan, at least giving her a little warning this time before she's swept up again. At least this time the willowy baroness is cradled in his arms and not thrown over his shoulders as he stalks towards the tube. "They are not hunters. They will not know how to find the kit."

"I- Oh." And up Subhan's swept up, cradled in the Demarian's arms - certainly a more dignified manner of being carried, though she still can't help but emit a little squeak midst it all, "Oh. Oh my. I- I suppose you're quite right, Master Demarian. Ah." At a loss for much else to say, she instead slips her hand in her pocket to make sure her pencil's not fallen out, and discovering it's still with her, takes a firm grasp on it.

Waste Management - Comorro Station - Comorro Station 23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC) A cavernous gray-green chamber, about half the size of the station's docking hub, with massive whale bone-like ribs providing support. Rough steps of web-shrouded bone lead down to a lake of festering sewage and discarded garbage. The dump smells like a hundred kinds of waste products, rotten food, and dead animals. The chamber's normal inhabitants are parasitic creatures that hover above the trash lake, using tentacles to snatch up bits of refuse into their toothy maws. A rather large, rickety-looking duct can be seen about three feet above the surface of the lake, in the port bulkhead. 23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC) Sun Jan 10 18:06:16 2652

As the would-be rescuers arrive in the great dump, the little boy known as Ferris is splashing his way toward the bulkhead with the duct opening from it and leading to the Forgotten Quarter. "Stinky!" the boy observes, gleefully. He starts climbing the wall using the rusty handgrips. As his feet emerge from the quagmire, it becomes obvious that one of his shoes is missing. The remaining shoe matches the one found in the gearclanger hub. He bites his lower lip, apparently focused on reaching the entrance to the duct so that he can find out where it leads.

Splash! Splash, splash, SPLASH! That large one would be Toromok, obviously, but the first would be Naoi and she breaks through the filthy water like some avenging sewer creature, blonde hair tinged with filthy green black, sludge slowly running down her face. When she spots the young boy, though, her eyes widen and she surges forward in a great motion, her right arm swing toward the lad, a physical expression of her psionic will. Before she can bring it to bear though, one of those blind parasite's tentacles wrap around her arm and with a great surge, pulls her free of the lake and toward the painful demise of sharp teeth. The boy is momentarily forgotten, forced to fight for her life, gripping the tentacle and using it as a base to change her posture and plant one boot right into it's nose.

Sqauwk! Splash!

Naoi disappears beneath the sludge once more.

Toromok lets out a loud whinny of displeasure as he lands in the reeking muck, his landing sending a huge set of ripples through the lake of muck before he surfaces once again. As he spots the boy, he tries to call out to him. "Ferris! Your aunt has sent us for you, please, come over here!"

Miklos hops down from the tube, feet quickly gained beneath him as he looks around. And as the warrior woman is pulled into the lake his eyes widen, one hand reached toward her and a concentrated effort on his part to pull her back, or at least relieve her of a sludgy drowning.

Redmask splashes down soon after Toromok, his nose wrinkling with distaste as he splashes down into the waste pit. He throws back the edge of his cloak, having used it to shield Subhan from any bits of muck that might be flung her way.

unfornately, a ride down a shoot is not easy for a one armed vollistan nor is the splash at the end and she takes a moment to pick herself up out of the sludge

Subhan can predictably be heard to give a startled cry at their mucky, and somewhat abrubt landing, the Baroness turning in against Redmask to hide her face to his fuzzy chest. Helps that she's being carried in his arms, "Oh- Oh dear. Ah- Ah thank you." She sputters in her cultured accent, not yet daring to look at the new surroundings.

And last of all comes Sandrim, the Fastheldian man letting out a roar as he splashes down. "Ugh! Hate this place! Kid! Where are..." He looks around, does /not/ spot the submerged Naoi, but does spot the child about to go to deep, dark places. "Hey! Come over here! I've got something neat to show you? Want some candy?"

Umishi slides down the duct and lands on her feet ears flat to the side as she takes everything in "I won't ask why that child is going toward the forgotten quarter.."

The kid wriggles up over the edge of the duct, but then looks around at the commotion of the grownups splashing into the dump. "Fun!" the boy proclaims, waving merrily. And then he disappears down the dark chute, crying "Wheeeeeeee!" as he vanishes from sight.

As the boy falls down the second chute, Naoi is dragged from the muck with Miklos' strong telekinesis, stinking of foul and mysterious soup and as alien as 'any' of the other sentients currently in place. Her momentum is rolled down through a roll, ending not far from Miklos, reaching for his robe to help herself back to her vertical stance. "Thank you, Miklos... ah, bloody days, did he get away?"

Toromok lets out a curse that probably only another Calzonite could understand as the boy vanishes down the chute. "Indeed he did, and now we must venture into the lion's den." He pulls his tangler pistol, loads a fresh ammo clip, readies it, then returns it to its holster as he heads towards the chute on the far wall, keeping an eye out for the creatures of the lake, ready to show them just how much pain a hoof in the face can be.

Miklos nods his head toward Toromok and the chute, "Yeah, that way," he says softly as he tries to help the priestess to her feet, "Don't go unti you're steady," he admonishes gently. "Get oriented first."

Redmask laughs richly upon seeing Naoi pulled out of the muck. "And now you can suffer no worse indignity!" He replies heartily to the warrior while pushing forward towards the open duct with Subhan still in his arms. "I envy you, surely you are charmed for whatever is to come ahead."

Toromok gets up to the duct, and with a heave from his large arms, pulls his large body up into the duct as he pulls his legs beneath him, using his arms to pull himself through.

Sandrim hisses as he paddles through, following Toromok into the duct. "Seriously. Can't we just wall this off or set up a guard?"

Naoi simply shakes her head at Miklos, "I am fine," Though her stance does not read that, clearly still sore from earlier wounds. Still, she is already heading to follow those that go before her, though not with a quick glance back to make sure that everyone is not only accounted for but also uninjured.

Volidana nods "thank the gods daniel does not do things like this

"Oh quite charmed, I assure you." Subhan squeaks in a highly nervous attempt at a joke to ease her delicate sensibilities. It really doesn't work, though slowly she turns her head to peek out at the filthy surroundings as they surge forward. At least, thanks to Redmask's noble, strong nature, she doesn't have to trudge through the muck.

Umishi whiskers twitch and she starts to hop across the lake on any trash island she can find to get to the other chute

Miklos Gyrferen follows closely behind Naoi, keeping an eye on her and an eye on where he's going.

Forgotten Quarter - Comorro Station - Comorro Station 23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC) The purple-gray walls of this chamber are part of the fossilized husk of the original Yaralu that grew to become Comorro Station over the ages. Lost to time, disconnected from the rest of the sentient starship's neural network, this section is home to vagabonds, criminals, and reprobates who want to avoid the harsh justice of the station's sometimes draconian security measures. Drug dealers, black marketeers, slavers - all of them do their best to make a living down here despite occasional efforts by Comorro to end their activities. 23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC)23:32, 16 February 2010 (UTC) Sun Jan 10 18:44:40 2652

Toromok slides out of the duct and gets his legs back on solid footing as he looks around for any sign of the young boy, a hand going to the grip of his tangler gun as he watches also for any potential trouble. "Not the place I'd rather be at the moment." he mutters.

Naoi follows Toromok to the ground, wiping an across her face to try to clear her vision. Growling, blinking, and disoriented, she keeps her bearings enough to get out of the way of others that may choose to descend, stepping to the side and looking for the young boy that they continue to pursue.

Umishi is now out of the chute and wiping herself off as she looks around.

Redmask descends afterwards with Subhan, again shielding her with his cloak before he feels that he can finally set her down. "Ah, there is no place I would rather be." The wormhunter comments to Toromok. "A warrior goes where the danger is, that is where his spirit may flourish!"

The kid, heedless of the dangers posed by the place known as the Forgotten Quarter, leaves mucky tracks on the ground as he toddles toward the beckoning glow of the incinerators. A mangy-looking Lotorian and a scar-faced Hekayti stalk toward Ferris, blocking his progress. "Where thizzzz one be going?" the Lotorian inquires. The Hekayti tilts his horned head, hoofs thumping on the ground as he moves in a slow circle around the child and says, "Burny place not so good for little Outverser." A Gankri bounds over from the vicinity of the junk maze and says, "Akazar's gonna want that one! He's little! Oh, the places they can go! Akazar's gonna be happy!" The Lotorian beams: "Yezz, yezz! Little one good for uzzz."

"Oh.. oh my." Subhan murmurs as she's set down, the damp state of solid ground penetrating the scant protection her slippers offer and eliciting a disgusted quirk to be added to her overwhelmingly worried expression. Her drawing pad remains clutched tightly to her chest for the moment, pencil gripped in a white-knuckled grasp, "Y-you enjoy places like th-this?" The former Baroness queries of the Demarian, clearly not understanding how /anyone/ could enjoy a place like this.

Squish. Despite the drop, a slim-lined humanoid silhouette lands lightly at the bottom of the chute. Fine leather boots get soiled by the assorted unmentionables that have followed various travelers down here from the waste disposal above, and as Thayndor Zahir straightens, his lip curls upwards at some unpleasant scent. With his thumb, he flicks a fleck of dark brown pungent something from his cheek, and plucks a melon peel from the shoulder of his cloak with thumb and forefinger. "Eugh," he mutters, and only then does he look towards the group that's already arrived.

Sandrim follows Toromok through, keeping close to the Aukami. "Just... this place isn't very..." he says slowly, not quite finishing any sentence as he scans for the boy.

Miklos Gyrferen follows down after Naoi, once again easily landing on his feet. It doesn't take him long to recognize the trio, "Leave that one alone," he command, his voice for once forceful and commanding as he hurries in their direction.

"You missed a spot," observes the ghostly form of Zolor Zahir as he materializes near Thayndor.

Toromok spots the muck-prints from the small boy heading off towards the incinerators, and he clops off in that direction at a good pace. As he spots the young boy ahead, and those around him, he calls out to him. "Ferris! You must come with me now, young one, it is not safe here." he says, hand on his weapon as he approaches the group. "Your aunt is quite worried."

The trio with the child look momentarily impressed by the call of the Aukami - until Miklos disappears in a shimmering cloud of blue-white light and becomes much less of a concern.

"No! DO NOT TOUCH HIM!" For such a tiny woman, Naoi's roar is that of a lion. She stalks forward after that great denial, not daring to sprint, fearful of causing a sudden attack from the toughs that had gathered around the youth. "We can make a deal for this young one. Let us speak to Regent Akazar if you do not have that power."

"Certainly it smells bad. It is wet, and it is uncomfortable." Redmask replies to Subhan, his grin growing as he yanks his knife free of its sheath. "But I would expect nothing less for a den of monsters." He has developed quite the maniacal grin, all of his fangs on display as he stalks towards the group and the boy. "It is /perfect/."

Umishi makes a mischivous grin, eyes focus on the Gankri slaver and using what psionics she has..Tries to make him hear an insult toward him from one of the other slavers.

Ferris looks up at the scary Hekayti, shivering at the ugly scars. His gaze turns toward the beady black eyes of the Lotorian as the slaver leans close. It suddenly seems to dawn on the lad that he is in some measure of danger now. Very quietly, just above a whisper, he says, "Want to go home." The Hekayti rumbles: "Lord Akazar going to give you good home!" The Lotorian swivels his snout to regard Naoi, then lifts a paw to silence the Hekayti: "What deal? We listen, yezzyezz!"

Toromok looks stern at the trio. "His home is back with his family, and that is where he is going." he says simply. "Come, Ferris."

Subhan's eyes widen as she witnesses Miklos' dissapearance, the trembling already present only incresing it's intensity. So much for drawing out things, "Oh. Oh dear. Oh-oh." She murmurs, incredibly flutered and ibued with fright. Slowly violet eyes focus on the child named Ferris, a tentative cry calling out to him, and surely drawing attention to herself, "Oh, c-come now Ferris. Come, and-and I shall t-take you home."

Sandrim :frowns as he approaches the group, a hand always near his sword, not having noticed the disappearing Aukami himself. "This can end easily," he agrees quietly, looking toward Naoi, then the trio. "And quickly, I hope. There is nothing the three of you want to keep you away from him?"

"Hmm? Oh," says Thayndor, mildly, several steps behind the confabulation. "Thank you." He brushes the other shoulder of his cloak, and a lug nut made adhesive thanks to a green mucus-like substance is peeled away. It adheres to his hand. He has to shake it several times before the lug nut falls, loudly, to the ground. Only then does he look to his right -- where Zolor is, at least to him -- and his expression sours. His jawline works a little bit, and he returns his attention to the group before him just in time to see Miklos disappear. "Where have I seen that before ..." he mutters. Perhaps out of habit, he stalks towards the far end of the group of Outversers. Continuing on this path, he'd begin to circle the slavers.

"What did you call me?" the Gankri growls, snarling at the Lotorian. The mangy slaver swings his angry gaze toward the Gankri: "Can't you see I'm trying to make dealzz, yezzyezz? Don't got time for stupid babbling!" The Gankri pulls a knife from a sheath at his waist: "Make time! Give you extra mouth for tongue to wag from!" The little boy turns to run, but the Hekayti clutches him by the shoulder and tugs him back.

"Horned demon!" Redmask declares, leveling the tip of his knife towards the scarred Hekayti. "You will regret laying that hand on that human kit. We are not, you and I, much for talking. Our warrior's spirits call out to one another. Set the kit down, I will face you in combat." His golden eyes roam over the others. "I am Wormhunter Redmask Lightspear of Clan Thunderstrider. You are outnumbered by skilled warriors. Grant the challenge or be destroyed."

Several Outversers are facing off against a trio of slavers who are currently holding the little boy, Ferris, as a potential servant of Lord Akazar. The Gankri and Lotorian in the trio are bickering, and the Gankri has pulled a knife. The Hekayti is holding Ferris by the shoulder to prevent him from escaping.

Naoi was creeping forward until the Heykati's hand drops on the boy, freezing him into place, and the conflict between both the Lotorian and the Gankri suddenly becomes hostile, snarling in irritation. Still out of range for any way to stop this, she attempts to interject. "Name your price! A token for each of you, and something for Akazar as well." She is still unaware of Miklos' disappearance, or Thayndor, though she does glance toward Toro to check to see if he is ready to make a move should Ferris be threatened. "Perhaps a human for a human?" Redmask's glorious speech goes over her head, and maybe even right over her offer.

Toromok is indeed ready, and he doesn't look willing to deal. "You will let the child go, or face the consequences." he says sternly. "I have no time for dealing with riff-raff, and that boy does not belong here. Release him. Now." His tangler gun is released from his holster and made ready.

The Hekayti smacks the Gankri upside the head, grumbling: "Pull yourself together." He shoves the boy toward the Lotorian and says, "Mind him." The Hekayti then turns his attention to the Demarian. A thump of fist to chest as he takes a step forward and says, "The she-ship's law has no place down here." He eyes the Calzonite. "You fire that at me, none of you leave alive." His gaze drifts toward Redmask once more. "I accept your challenge, Outverser. Best me, the child is yours. Fail, and I take your women as well."

Sandrim looks aside toward Redmask. "You," he says quietly, "are a fucking moron. Has nobody ever told you this?" He looks to the Hekayti. "The women aren't his to give, and the child isn't yours to take."

Umishi raises a brow and cocks her head to the side at the impending duel. "None of my women are present." Redmask replies to the Hekayti, lowing his snout some so that only his golden eyes peer over the edge of his scarf. "I am the only one of the people here. You take from the others what you can, that is the iron law." The Wormhunter reverses his grip on the knife so that the blade points downward. He seems ready to go, but then Sandrim speaks and he glances over towards the human. "What is moron?"

"I wish I were there to place a wager," the ghost(?) of Zolor Zahir observes to Thayndor. He moves, unseen, behind the Hekayti and then looks toward the Demarian. "An even match, really. The Hekayti knows the terrain better here, however."

In the shadows, near the way out of the Quarter, is a subtle shift as a smallish figure cloaked in black slides along the greyish walls. Marisa takes note of the gathering of people and stops in her tracks, eyeing them with a frown and trying to find a nice vantage point from which to observe in silence.

"The ... he understands the politics of the blade better than you do, Sandrim," Thayndor says, inclining his chin towards Redmask. "Let the ... let him fight." His shoulders square and his nostrils flare -- caution. He peruses the area around the slavers, standing a ways off from the Outversers' right flank. Never once does he look at Sandrim or at Redmask. "We'll deal with the consequences as they come." He tilts his head, sizing up the Hekayti. "What does that know that we don't?" he quietly asks. To the others, it's not readily apparent to whom he's speaking.

Subhan is clearly ill suited to be here, and yet somehow she finds the courage to move through her immense fear and the confusion it can bring. As such she has the good sense to get out of the way - or as much out of the way as she can. It's hard to tell how vast an area the impending fight will cause. Without thought she moves closer to the Lotorian and Ferris, unaware, in fact, that she's nearing their position. Instead, wide, violet eyes focus on Redmask and the Hekyati, pencil set to paper and steadied as best she can before she starts to chronicle the goings on through her drawings.

The scarred Hekayti shrugs, perusing the muddy females. "Not so impressive, anyway. Lord Akazar might think them too scrawny. Likes 'em with more meat." He takes a step toward Redmask and raises his fists, prepared to engage the Demarian in battle. [ Sandrim glances toward Thayndor. "By the way, the fucking moron goes to you as well," he says to Thayndor. "Politics of the blade my ass."

The Gankri and the Hekayti are oblivious to Marisa's movements, but the Lotorian who's currently clutching the little boy by the shoulder narrows his eyes upon spying her movement in the shadows.

Toromok keeps his pistol at the ready. "I suggest that you give me no reason to do so, Hekayti." Toromok says evenly. "Let us say that it shall ensure fairness in the competition." he says with a nod to Redmask. "As for our state of life or death, that is not for you to decide."

"Sandrim, stop. Please." Naoi responds, "This is better then we could hope, even if it is out of our hands." At the Heykati's summary of her and Subhan, there is only the twitch of her lips. "I am unfit for slavery as an Lotorian's harem girl. I am not sure how I feel about this, but no matter." The Fastheldian turns toward Redmask. "This is your chance, Redmask. Light bless you, and good luck. Watch for the headbutt."

"What does the Hekayti know?" Zolor chuckles, speaking only to Thayndor. He walks toward the entrance to the junk maze, pointing to a series of platforms that rise above the wreckage of the Yaralu's ancient innards. "Archers, I suspect. But...not archers. They have some other name. They do not use bows."

Redmask shifts into his own stance, holding up his knife in his back hand with claws leading in the other. "This is not the first thing with horns that I have faced." He replies to Naoi, though his golden eyes are focused on the Hekayti. "Though often horns are reserved for stupid animals that roam in herds because they prefer their own stench above the clean air." He stutter steps forward, trying to draw the Hekayti into a strike.

The Hekayti is all too willing to oblige, driving a hammer-like fist toward the Demarian's snout.

Sandrim looks toward Naoi, raising an eyebrow, but then shakes his head, moving to the side, away from the fighters. "Mmhmm," he says quietly, quietly trying to circle the ring as it were, just a bit closer to the kid.

Thayndor Zahir smiles. "You haven't changed a bit, Sandrim," he says, absently, watching the fight. "I'm glad you've had no important steps in your personal development since last we met. I'd have hated to miss them." Thayndor flicks one finger from left to right. "To them, our lives were theirs the moment we stepped down here," he explains. "As far as they're concerned, offering our 'women' passage out of here with the child is already a precious gift to us ..." His gaze flickers up, then back to his own eye level -- head never moving. Then his eyes seek Naoi's first, and Sandrim's second. Quietly, he shifts a little further away from the group, into the shadow of a pile of rubble near the entrance to the junk maze. Only when his face is concealed in relative darkness does he look up more obviously, seeking among a series of platforms that rise above Comorro's most ancient and desiccated crevices.

Among the platforms, Thayndor sees confirmation of what his ghostly uncle suggested: The underdwellers of the Forgotten Quarter have a few sniper teams armed with rifles, scopes trained on the Outversers as they move around the main chamber.

Redmask weaves away from that punishing hammer blow, grinning all the while as he keeps his focus on the Hekayti. He turns, putting his weight behind the knife as he slashes out towards that outstretched arm. His aim is simple and consistent with his life as a hunter, to cut those muscles and tendons and make the arm all but useless. Or, alternative, to just shed some blood.

Ah! Momentary courage at best, as when the first punch is thrown, Subhan begins to lose her cool - as much as it can be considered that. Only a few quick outlining sketches finished to chronicle the events completed, her hand begins to tremble too much to be of use, and soon she drops the pencil. Even then she's frozen in place, wide eyes focused on Red and the Hek.

The Hekayti throws his arm aside before the Demarian can slice the flesh. He then drives a knee toward Redmask's groin.

Toromok keeps an eye on the competition, the pistol remaining in position as the duel begins. He chooses to say nothing. There is little to say when warriors fight. What will be will be, and only their actions will determine the outcome.

Umishi ears twitch as she watches.

Redmask rolls around the Hekayti to avoid the strike, staying remarkably nimble on his feet. He tries to stay to the Hekayti's outside, to keep his opponent crossed up and unable to marry his greater mass to a strike. But apparently he's concluded that he shouldn't toy around with this one, swiping his knife towards the Hekayti's midsection to try and begin the process of disembowelment.

Naoi spots Subhan's trembling and though her first initial reaction is to turn toward her, Thayndor's curious and subtle look grabs her attention. So, like him, her gaze slowly lifts toward the ceiling, eye narrowing as she considers the heavy shadows amongst the platforms. It is obvious that she is considering them though, thumbs hooked in her swordbelt, the trash slowly drying on her skin and clothes.

The Hekayti's not nearly as nimble as his Demarian opponent and it soon becomes apparent that his luck is running out. The knife slashes the flesh of his abdomen - a deep wound, bloody, but not fatal. Just enough to hurt badly and *really* piss him off. As Naoi predicted, the Hekayti goes for an attempted bludgeoning. He drives his horns in a relentless strike toward Redmask's chest, aiming to impale and then topple the Demarian.

Redmask nimbly steps away from the crude goring attempt. The Demarian's robes flutter like a matador's cape as he steps to the side and goes for a killing blow, his knife slashing at the Hekayti's exposed throat.

"Cousin," says Thayndor, stepping out of the shadows and towards Subhan as the first blood is drawn. "This is all too much excitement for you." A grateful look is cast behind the slavers, to where Zolor lurks -- at least to him -- with that Cheshire-cat grin. "There's no need for you to be here any longer. Let me get you away. Trust our friends to secure the boy." He loosens his cloak and glances to Toromok. "Good man. Come help me get her to her feet." With that, he unslings his cloak and moves as if to drape it about Subhan's shoulders, the sweeping fold of cloth facing the slavers, curtain-like.

Toromok looks back to Thayndor, nods, and starts to back up, keeping the pistol on the trio as he steps back to where Subhan and Thayndor are standing, an arm reaching down to help Subhan to her feet. "She may sit upon my back if that would be of help." he offers.

Subhan manages to stumble back a bit, pencil left to lament on the ground where it was dropped, and possibly be tread on lest the Baroness not find that mysterious store of courage that had welled from somewhere just a bit earlier. It's not likely to be found again, truthfully. Her expression rapidly deteriorates to mix already present fear with upset. Wide eyes manage to tear away from the fight as Thayndor approaches, but she can't seem to manage more than a whimper, and nor does she seem able to force herself to move much more than she already had.

And so ends the bout, with a slurry of crimson that sprays from the breached throat of the dying Hekayti. His hands go uselessly to his throat as he falls forward, thudding on the ground. He flops over onto his back, eyes going hazy, and then he gurgles a final breath as his blood pools around his cooling body.

Marisa continues watching from her spot, eyes sweeping over the outversers and slavers alike. They stop at one spot in particular, the young woman's face screwing up into a frown. In Thayndor's head? A familiar voice rings forth from seemingly nowhere, "Of course you actually show up where I can see you AFTER I've gotten away."

Redmask straightens over the body of his fallen opponent, regarding him coolly for a moment. At last those golden eyes roll over towards the Lotorian and the Gankri. "We had a deal." He tells them, leveling the bloody edge of his knife towards them. "The human kit. Send him over to the hoof demon." That said, he crouches over the fallen Hekayti and starts using his knife to saw away a horn. Need a trophy.

"That would be unwise," says Thayndor to Toromok, quietly, before kneeling to meet Subhan. He holds his cloak up still and keeping it positioned to obscure his mouth. "I will get her safe. You should turn around, take the boy quick as you can, and follow me. Oh -- and look /up/." He then drops the cloak comfortingly about Subhan's shoulders. "There there, cousin," says the Zahir, his hands seeking her biceps to steer her towards the chute at a crouch. "You did quite well. Smashing, really." Something makes his brow knit -- like a gnat in his ear -- and he shakes his head violently.

The Lotorian gnashes his fangs. "Had deal with Hekayti, yezzyezz. No deal with ussezz, no!" He lets his claws dig a little into the boy's shoulders, causing Ferris to wince and cry, "That hurts!"

Toromok looks curiously upward at Thayndor's suggestion.

Umishi ears flatten as the fight ends and she hears the boy cry..refocusing on the Gankri again attempting to initiate round 2 and hopefully get the boy to not be the focus of attention.

Zolor Zahir moves to stand beside the recalcitrant Lotorian. "He just really wants to die, doesn't he?"

The small black-clad blonde smirks as Thayndor shakes his head out, but her attention is drawn back to the action as the Lotorian digs claws into the boy. Marisa pulls her bow from her back slowly and carefully slides an arrow from her quiver, hoping to center her aim on the Lotorian without being noticed. She apparently isn't aware that she had been spotted earlier. Subhan is difficult to get moving, not because she wants to stay here, of course, but paralysis via fear is something terribly difficult to overcome. Certainly the cloak and Thayndor's guidance helps, but even so she's unsteady and jumpy, flinching and tensing at practically everything, "Oh my. Oh- Oh Th-Thayndor." She manages to mumble, tone clearly reflecting her upset.

"Then I challenge you next." Redmask calls over his shoulder to the Lotorian as he continues to saw away that horn. His ears perk as Naoi calls out.

Naoi's approach to the side is designed to get her closer, a slow and cautious approach, hoping that his attention is grabbed elsewhere so she can get close enough to the pair and more importantly, the young boy they have under their not-so-gentle watch. She clearly has mischief in mind, that much is certain.

"Yes, that's me," says Thayndor, glancing over his shoulder at Zolor's comment and rubbing at Subhan's shoulders. "You did quite well, cousin. Let's just get you out of the way, dear. Somebody is about to be --" there goes Naoi, creepin' and a crawlin' -- "unwise." He attempts to usher Subhan behind the nearest suitable cover -- a tall enough mound of filth, a conveniently-shaped twist of hullsteel, anything to stand between her and the snipers -- as quickly as possible. As he moves, he speaks calmly to her -- as if this is as milquetoast as doing the laundry. "There are going to be a few loud noises, now, dear Subhan, and you might see some things that would at first glance be upsetting," Thayndor explains. "But I assure you that it's all quite all right. Just remember: This sort of thing is what we all do for a living." He spares her a broad, confident grin. "Okay?"

The Lotorian, surprisingly enough, is the first to perceive the skulking Naoi creeping up behind him. He shoves the boy over to the clutches of the Gankri as he turns to snarl at the woman. "Not even going to give me the chance to accept the big furry one'zzz challenge, nono? Not liking thizzz!" He draws his own knife, putting it to the pale white flesh of the boy's throat. "Cut him just like you did our friend, yezzyezz!" And that's when the rifles open fire from the platforms. The snipers don't gun for Redmask, Subhan, or Naoi, though. Instead, the shots strike clean through the craniums of the Gankri and the Lotorian. Knives clatter on the ground beside twitching corpses as Ferris runs, terrified, toward the Demarian. "Don't let them take me," Ferris begs.

Redmask's ears fold back harshly at the gunshots, but he can't argue with the result. As Ferris rushes towards him the Demarian rises, breaking off the horn with an audible crack before he sweeps the boy up in one arm much the same way he did Subhan. "Hold this." He tells the child, offering him the sundered Hekayti horn. "Hoof demon!" He calls to Toromok. "We should depart."

Subhan is ushered along, a bit comforted by Thayndor's explination and presence, though largely because it provides a distraction. Even with the assurances given, when the gunshots ring out, the Baroness can't help but shriek and close her eyes tightly as she frantically grabs at Thayndor to try and cling to him. Her drawing pad is dropped in the process, some of the pages soaking up a bit of muck.

Umishi folds her hands behind her back as she watches and blinks, "That was unexpected..."

Toromok nods to Redmask. "That we should. Come, little one, your aunt has been quite worried about you." he says, and he looks up at the snipers. Curious, but appreciative, he offers a nod, his pistol holstered as prepares to return to the duct.

"Now *that* was curious," Zolor notes, looking down at Thayndor from the top of the junkpile. "I fully expected them to kill the little sneaky one. It's what I would have done."

"Not if the exit is blocked behind us," Naoi responds, looking up to the sniper's position with the air of someone that's-- well, at a tactical disadvantage with few answers.

Thayndor Zahir glances upwards at the gunfire. "Little sneaky --?" he begins. He inhales, then exhales slowly, letting Subhan grab him but looking behind them towards the exit. After all, his cover was to protect Subhan and him from the snipers /deeper/ into the cavern; he wasn't watching to see who may have crept up behind. "No one in this kind of place is an altruist," he mutters. "We haven't been saved. We're being fought over." Suddenly more alert, he puts his off hand on the hilt of his sword -- his normal sword hand is occupied because Subhan is clutching it.

The smallish blonde's eyes widen as shots ring forth, unexpectedly taking out the remaining slavers. Marisa looks to the direction she thinks they came from, frowning in confusion. She decides not to press her luck, lowerins bow and arrow and sliding swiftly to try and find some better cover. "Does trouble follow you or do you seek it out?" she projects to Thayndor almost irritably, "This is ridiculous, every time I see you something... wrong happens..."

A voice calls from one of the platforms. "Go while you can. Lord Akazar has granted you all a reprieve. In the future, he may require a favor in return. Remember this day. Do not return until you are prepared to make good on that debt."

Umishi blinks, "Now thats VERY unexpcted..regardless..I would run..very very fast.."

Redmask turns to leave with the child, wiping his knife off on his robes before sheathing it. "Surely a mark of respect for the triumph of my warrior's spirit." The Wormhunter replies with clear self assurance, though he's certainly not taking his time in getting to the exit.

Subhan does the sensible thing; Presses her face to Thayndor's shoulder as if not looking will make it all go away. As tightly as she can she holds to the Zahir.

Toromok nods. "Agreed.. we have been given an opportunity to depart with what we came for, I suggest we use it."

Thayndor Zahir's mouth twists downwards into a scowl. "Subhan," he says, straightening. "We've got your boy. Let's go." He looks squarely at the top of the junkpile, at Zolor, and says: "I don't like owing favors to the powerful. They're right; let's get out of here while we can."

"Watch your back, boy," Zolor urges before fading from view.

Naoi slowly backpedals, gaze toward the ceiling.

Marisa doesn't need any more cues to leave - as soon as people are making to head out, the girl slides out of the shadows, bow still in hand, and backpedals slowly after the last to go so she can keep an eye out for anyone following who shouldn't be.

"R-rather t-the child belongs to an-another." Subhan muffles against the Zahir's arm before daring a glance up to him. With the excitement seemingly past, and their safety secured, the Baroness is a touch easier to encourage to move, though it really should be no surprise that she refuses to release Thayndor's arm. Of course, prying her loose wouldn't be terribly hard, as the domestic woman is certainly a lot weaker than he is. A slight delay, as she leans over to collect her drawing pad, one hand keeping it's grip on Thay the while. Umishi walks toward the chute, waiting for others to make thier way up.

Redmask has the young Ferris in town as he climbs towards the exit back to the waste lake, though he does glance over his shoulder to make sure that Subhan is ok, as he is also responsible for her. "Good." He concludes.

"I will," Thayndor says -- to whom, it's not immediately clear, except to him and to a ghost -- and glances over his shoulder once more before tugging Subhan along. He doesn't answer the noblewoman as he passes into the chute.