True Progress - RPLOG
From Rusted Promises
Participants
Date
15/2/476
Log
A large foreign escort has been placed by the Holy city of Shralesta, and they've sent a ship specially to cross the borders in the most discreet way possible. From the note, it seems that they want to deliver something of unimaginable value to Firmament, but are trying to avoid the bandit filled roads along the way. Three priests stand in front of the entrance to the ship in polished heavy plates, screening the people who are taking up the bounty they're giving for this task.
Sidewinder heard rumors of such an escort, and despite not being welcome in Shralesta itself, he still feels some connection to his home. As such, he makes his way to the docks and coughs softly to get attention. "Ah'm here f'r the escort mission." He doesn't give his name just yet, and his rather non-descript appearance and demeanor make him practically invisible to most who would be looking for 'special' type people.
Garma laughs to himself as he wheels his cannon behind him, the complete opposite of discrete, flexing for any woman he passes and offering slaps on the back for anyone friendly enough to greet him. He's heard of some job that no ones hired him to get in on, he may as well see if they'll hire him for whatever he's not being asked to stop, it must be important. As he arrives in front of the priests he offers his hand and then says "Hey there your holiness, I heard you got a job? Mind if I push in, I promise not to dissapoint." with a flashy smile.
The priest in the middle doesn't say anything, standing with his hands rested on his hammer as he peers from behind the daunting visage of his mask. His head does seem to be turning slightly from Garma to Sidewinder though, a small grunt coming as the raven explains that he's from Shralesta, but without any words, he stands aside and motions to the two slanted planks that lead onto the ship, where more heavily armored priests can be seen working swiftly to resupply and repair the ship for their trip.
Sidewinder moves past Garma and slips onto the ship, not saying anything else. The raven makes his way to wherever the priests guide him. His eyes scan everything, taking in each priest, each job, each movement, for future use. The unremarkable man finds a seat and takes it, sitting down and getting out of the way as soon as possible.
Saibh isn't entirely sure she's up for this job at this point, but for the time being she'll go along for the ride, if the price is right. Though that said, when she spots a familiar face, albeit one she's still convinced is as few walls short of a house, she wonders just how thorough their screening process for hires is. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she makes her way towards the ship
Garma shrugs and wheels his cannon onto the ship, moving himself and it to a location that they won't have to worry about getting in the way before he starts to polish it up. He inspects the crew, trying to gauge just how fit and able bodied these folk were.
It's not much longer before the three priests guarding the boat pick up their hammers and climb up the sturdy planks before pulling them onboard and keeping them somewhere safe at the side. Someone raises the ship's anchors up and sails billow down, and with the help of complex air math, the ship is sailing off at full speed ahead. The one who was busy screening applicants wanders into the cabin for a moment, returning without his helmet and hammer, in place for a pair of swords. He's a cougar with white eyes, the black brushes along his muzzle the most visible. He looks at the three non-priesty people on board with a tiny smile on his face...except he's not quite looking in their direction. "Good, we have people to escort the precious cargo back to Firmament. And you all don't seem too special either." A storm builds in the distance as he continues to give his short briefing. "We've designed a rare firearm that we would like to deliver to Firmament, in interest of our longstanding relations, and their fight against the shadow. But we don't want to let anyone else know about the weapon design. It's something powerful enough to cause the deaths of thousands...if bandits should ever get their hands on it."
Sidewinder perks up quickly when he hears what it is they're guarding. His eyes sparkle, and a grin crosses his beak. *Now* he's interested. He nods to Saibh with a smirk, "See, Ah ain't all crazy. Shralesta dun got lots 'f guns y'all here in Firmament ain't never seen b'fore."
Saibh raises an eyebrow at the description, then shifts from side to side like she wants to ask a question, but keeps stopping herself. Anyone that knows her might be guessing that it's not nice. She stops and leans against the railing before finally asking, "A design like that aims for the user then?" she glances to Sidewinder, jerks her thumb towards him and says, "Otherwise it'll be no different than business as usual." Knocking the back of her boot against the railing's support, she then says to Sidewinder drly, "And I'm sure there's a lot of things you've not seen out this way. Sobriety is a rare treat for example"
Garma raises an eyebrow and stops polishing his cannon. "I hate to say this but you might as well not even bother delivering it then. If you're worried about bandits getting it, just wait till the shadow are gone. It'll be loosed on those cliffside folks by the army." he says and cracks his neck. "But if you're goin through with it, I'll be sure to keep them bandits off your prize."
"We don't care. We have no parts in the conflict. But if the Creators are to come down upon us, we must be prepared to handle them, or at least put up a good fight. We simply have faith that Firmament will do what's right." The cougar sighs and shakes his head. "These designs come from studying Creator tech for so long...it's power will give us a chance against them." The storm rolls in as the cougar speaks, though he's distracted by the lightning more than what's on hand. "If there's anything you want to ask now, ask before we have to shout it to one another through the rain." It's already starting to drizzle lightly. Oh, and you can call me Captain Reinhardt, or just Reinhardt. I needn't know your names."
Sidewinder looks more than a little annoyed by Saibh's comment, and he stands slowly, eyeing the woman. He takes a step towards her, then looks around and thinks better of whatever he was going to say, deciding to sit back down. "Ah'm *really* startin' t' dislike you," he offers instead with a sneer. To the head priest, he nods. "Ah'll do whatever it takes t' keep th' gun safe. Y' have mah word, Cap'n."
Saibh shifts her stance and watches the bird step towards her. The only thing she does in response is stifle a yawn and shift her stance to get more comfortable. After the comment though, she makes a dismissive gesture and says, "I think I'll live. Settle down either way, I'm sure they've got rations on the boat for morale." She tilts her head curiously towards Garna after, particularly the uh.. cannon. Right then.
Garma groans as it starts to drizzle, throwing his open jacket off his body and draping it over his precious tool. "Alright then Captain Reinhardt, we'll be on the lookout." he says with a rather half assed salute and a smile. He takes note of Saibh's interest in his weapon and laughs to himself. The girls are always checking out his cannons.
The lynx points to the cannon and smiles, even as another priest seems to cast some sort of air spell over it to keep it dry. He's about to speak when the storm gets worse...even as two massive shadows loom in the distance, having been allowed to close in under the cover of rain. And then all tact is lost as Reinhardt 'looks' into the distance, even as the lookout climbs down from the mast to yell for all arms to deck, and weapons to the ready. The ship's broadside cannons are manned by more people even as the shadows approach, clearly ships of at least equal size to the battered warship you all are in. "They're here...the other Shralesta ships. FIRE AT WILL!" He yells out to rally the group, the ship going at full speed even as it zooms in between the other two ships. The one to her left is decimated by burning tar and cannonballs, even as misaimed cannonballs zoom past in return fire. The ship to it's right though, manages to fire several grappling lines...a boarding party of opposing priests clambering across, outnumbering the ship's men two to one.
Sidewinder grunts as he stands quickly, his short bow in hand before he even finishes standing, an arrow nocked and ready to let loose at anyone who gets near the ship. He fires arrow after arrow at the armored intruders, scooting backwards towards the precious cargo.
Saibh steps away from the railing, then looks to the captain and calls out, "So who did you steal this heap from really?" drawing her little handbow. Setting a bolt she then says, "Or are they the rogues? Either way I think when we survive this we'll need to discuss our contract a bit"
Garma hops into action, throwing his jacket off the cannon and prepping it with some explosive rounds, this outta show em. He lets loose his blast into the boarding enemy, hopefully theres no friendly fire but, it should teach them a lesson if not knock them off the ship entirely... hopefully, never can tell with explosives.
Some of the boarding party is pelted by arrows and then blasted to the creators with explosives, armor providing little protection against being blown off the scaling ropes. Even as the sounds of thunder, rain and metal against metal hit the air, the enemy's numbers have dwindled down to two thirds of the men on board, and already they're fighting with less conviction. Reinhardt moves around running people through as the whole ship is filled with combatants. Suddenly, as the barrage of arrows and explosive rounds get too much for the boarding parties to handle, someone closest to the starboard side yells out. "THEY'VE GOT SHRAPNEL! GET DOWN!" It's too late though, large bits of flotsam and wood are fired from cannons, meant to kill more men than to do actual damage to the ship. Many of the priests are blasted, even the last of the boarders. Garma gets things the worst, being closest to the edge, small blocks of wood that look like the broken legs of a chair pelting him, while the other two don't get it any much better as well, with splinters and little pellets flying, along with the occassional large piece of wood.
Sidewinder squawks out in pain as he's pelted all over with little bits of everything. He gets up after hitting the deck just a moment too late, drawing another arrow to his bow. With a wince, he fires at the person manning the cannon that fired the shrapnel. Not just one arrow, but a swift succession of them, as if warning the next guy with that bright idea that they'd better actually finish the job next time.
Saibh covers her face at the cry of grapeshot, pausing for a moment to poke her finger through a hole in her coat. Slamming her fist against the railing, she calls out, "I'm taking the cost of that outta you all" before bringing her crossbow to bear and taking careful aim, taking a moment to calculate a beneficial wind spell, something to help her guide her bolt just a bit better. The shot can come after, once she's hopefully sure it'll hit
Garma curses and staggers at the rather low brand of cannon fire provided by his opponents, glaring as he forces himself to get with it. Everyone here is a priest right? He'll be fine, sure... just fine, he's just gotta keep with it. He was made for this, and his injuries don't impact the performance of his equipment. He pushes himself to quickly ready a more potent barrage, aiming it into the remaining boarding party. It's not quite as forceful, but it's rigged for some scattered flames that should prove hazardous to the ropes and bandits themselves.
Sidewinder's arrow finds it's mark through armor and coronary tissue first as he takes out the dirty cannoneer, though Saibh's arrow finds it's mark just seconds too late, splitting the raven's arrow in two as it does. The enemy warship is starting to retreat with what's left of it's men, but Garma's cannon fire takes that away from them, severing the ropes and sending many retreating and attacking priests both into the depths, where they struggle to swim in their heavy armor and the tumultous waves of the storm. Clear from all distraction, the ship sails ahead right as the clouds start to clear. Reinhardt seems unscathed from the fight apart from scratches from grapeshot, though many of his men are not as lucky, and there is much tending to the wounded. The ship seems to be heading to land, though there doesn't seem to be any cities in sight, only the endless dunes of a desert. "We'll have to paddle out in a smaller boat...leave the wounded behind. We'll head to Shralesta this way by caravan...and hopefully we'll be able to sneak into the city as traders.
Sidewinder slips the hood of his cloak up, leaving only his beak to be seen. "What if *we* are among th' wounded, Cap'n? Mah arm got hit with some 'f that shrapnel. Ah c'n still fight, but not at peak."
Garma groans once more as he hears he's leaving the priests behind, giving himself a look over and 'tch'ing at the wounds. He can leave em in and risk infection or take em out, but either way he's gotta deal with this using his piss poor medical knowledge and wheel his cannon through sand. He's not staying here to die, he'll have to push on. He pulls out his basic field medical kit and does what he can manage to clean it and then sighs, asking one of the priests their opinion on the injuries before preparing to wheel his cannon onward.
Journeymen flush out of the cabin, two of them quickly stopping to tend to Garma's and Sidewinder's wounds, making sure they're healed as quickly as they can with the help of ointments, quick removal of grapeshots and bandages, along with some dulling potions applied. They might not be fully healed, but they certainly won't be able to feel any injuries...too much. Reinhardt points to the caravan that is waiting for them. I guess it's just the three of us. Good though, sneaking into the city is going to be difficult anyway." He unclasps his massive suit of armor to bare his chest, walking into the cabin for a few seconds before returning in peasant robes. "Let's go. We'll make it to the city by nightfall if we take the caravan now. And- If either of you want to back out now's your chance. The ship will take you back. And I will be dead the next day."
Sidewinder snorts softly from under his hood. Between the black cloak, the black raven feathers and the dark of night, save for his beak, the bird is almost invisible now. "Ah never back down fr'm trouble. Ah said Ah'd protect th' cargo, and Ah will."
