Side Quest: Tomb Raided, Gair's perspective.

(Castor ArendtMateus) a number of mechanical things: there's obviously a Few of us so I'd ask as a courtesy that you keep posts concise as you're able - obviously it's not for me to limit your prose but a bit of chatscroll is not out of the question with our number
(Castor ArendtMateus) when i ask you to roll for something - which i will do on several occassions during this shindig - it's gonna be a standard /dice party. 500 and up is a success; 0-499 does not make the cut
(Castor ArendtMateus) at my discretion i will add a positive 250 to your roll if you have a relevant role/expertise
(Castor ArendtMateus) there's going to be some investigation and some combat ahead of us - during investigation periods, feel free to mull around, talk to each other, investigate things which i will indicate with waymarkers
(Castor ArendtMateus) during combat, wer'e gonna stick to a strict order that i am deciding at this very moment is based upon the order i've got you all listed in my party tab, so me/badguys > lucas > robyn > l'maadja > gair > maximillian
(Castor ArendtMateus) also occassionally to help transition us from one phase to another you will see two macros come flying at you:
(Castor ArendtMateus) [Something is happening!] <se.6> <se.1>
(Castor ArendtMateus) [You can resume the roleplay.] <se.2>
(Castor ArendtMateus) the first means STOP POSTING EVYERBODY GET DOWN
(Castor ArendtMateus) the second means post at your leisure :>
(Castor ArendtMateus) gonna drop a ready check and then we will roll
(Castor ArendtMateus) Awesome! Tomb Raided commences... [Something is happening!] <se.6> <se.1>



(Castor ArendtMateus) The broken stone and crystal of the Gauntlet hums in low frequency where the wind moves across its surface. As the shuttle docks carefully in the lee of a few twisting spires, nothing greets the disembarking expeditioners but a barren expanse of rock. The drop on either side is - precipitous. Distantly, the party can make out Spoken-made structures clinging to rock faces and in the protective shadow of stone arches.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Castor has asked a number of expeditioners to assist him in investigating this site, supposedly home to a former VIth legion encampment. Stepping off the ship they've taken from the Voyage, he turns to address the rest.

Castor ArendtMateus: “Right. Spooky, out here - but that aside, we’re not here to take in the scenery. Find the camp; find what caches they left. Sky rat that told me about this place didn’t know what the VIth was working on, only that it’s been dead around here for a few weeks at least. Stick close - there might not be an eye three-eyes left, but that’s no excuse to get careless.”
(Castor ArendtMateus) [You can resume the roleplay.] <se.2>

Robyn LannerBalmung finds this place considerably more foreboding than the last part of the Sea of Clouds he'd been sent to... But things can't possibly go any more badly than they did then -- right? Right. So, he's ready for action.

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "Right." Maadja comments. "There's bound to be something of interest in this camp I'm sure. The expedition has little resources as it is, so even scrap metal would be useful I'm sure."

Gair Brandt: "Nothin' worse than triclops scraps, there's always some twelvesdamned mine or buried magitek murder machine..."
Lucas NevinBalmung listens with his entire attention as Castor speaks, but his eyes are swiftly drawn to the drop only a few fulms away as he begins checking his weapons. "You're like to find more than scrap," he says to L'maadja.

Castor ArendtMateus gives Maadja a terse nod. "That's the idea. But whatever we can come across - even murder machines - will have value to the right buyers."

Maximilian AndersonBalmung lets out a stretch of his arms as he steps off the ship. “Ngh.” He softly grunts before letting his arms drop down to his side as he looks over at the rest of the group. “I’ll take whatever we can find.”

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "A fair point. Although, we could always turn such a machine into our use. It wouldn't be particularly difficult to engineer them."

Gair Brandt: "So don't bust 'em up too much," Gair nods toward Castor and lifts two fingers to his brow in a casual salute.
Maximilian AndersonBalmung: “Or even scrap it and repurpose the parts for other things as well.”

Castor ArendtMateus: "I would leave that to Master Fathi and the Father's discretion. For now - let's get the lead out. This place gives me the heebie jeebies."

Lucas NevinBalmung doesn't seem keen on bluster, nor on theorizing. He's scanning the ground they've landed on. "How are we getting off this rock?"

Castor ArendtMateus: "By the shuttle, Lucas." Castor points to the shuttle, nearby. Look at how it shuttles.

Lucas NevinBalmung turns around and looks behind him. Ah.

(Gair Brandt) *Is the shuttle for all of two seconds*
(Castor ArendtMateus) god bless you ))
(Robyn LannerBalmung) (( scooty puff.... ))

Castor ArendtMateus: "Right then. We move. Stay close."

Robyn LannerBalmung: "Don't need to be told twice..." But he may need to be told not to look over the edge. Urk.

Castor ArendtMateus: "Bloody barren place. Don't know what could take the imperials out here."

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "Who knows?"

(Castor ArendtMateus) [Something is happening!] <se.6> <se.1>
(Castor ArendtMateus) Standard issue tents, their uniform elegance marred by being left unattended for so long, whip this way and that in the breeze. The chain brand of Garlemald is woven into the side of the largest - undaunted, so far from their borders. Nearby, a defunct vanguard, its central chassis opened and parts scattered at its feet.
(Castor ArendtMateus) (A) - A cluster of tents stands here, gathered in the shelter of a great pillar of crystal. A common area?
(Castor ArendtMateus) (B) - A disabled and disheveled magitek vanguard. Left here in the streaking storms of the Sea of Clouds, its oxidized alloy chassis shudders under its own weight. Its internal compartment hangs open, and the parts scattered at its feet - fastening bolts, contacts, as well as more valuable transistors and foci - suggest that someone has carelessly reached inside.
(Castor ArendtMateus) [You can resume the roleplay.] <se.2>

Castor ArendtMateus: "Ghost town. Let's see what we can find."

(Castor ArendtMateus) direct yourself to whichever point catches your character's interest - and let me know in your emote what you'd like to examine! ))

Maximilian AndersonBalmung: “It’s less so what the region directly provides, indirectly it’s hidden and it’s close to other areas. A forward camp I’d assume.”

Castor ArendtMateus: "Likely, aye. Might've thought the VIth was more concerned with - other matters. Stay sharp, even so."

Robyn LannerBalmung looks between the abandoned tents and the vanguard before he decides to help investigate the former. Carefully...

L'maadja SheccaBalmung mostly has interest on the Vanguard (B). Looking at the opened compartment in thought. "Interesting that they would just leave this here. You'd think they'd be more careful with their toys, but this is the best thing I could hope for."

Gair Brandt: "Well, I ain't no engineer, but I know weapons..." Gair moseys on over toward the downed Vanguard (B), warily having a look at the state of it's armament.

(Castor ArendtMateus) (A) - Both the large, branded tent and the central area seem worthy of some investigation. What draws the expeditioners' eyes?

Lucas NevinBalmung pushes forward through the crowd. He gives the vanguard a long look -- perhaps a longing look -- but instead he first heads to the tents (A) with Robyn. "I /am/ an engineer," he answers Gair, "but there might be something useful in here." He pokes his head into the tents.

Maximilian AndersonBalmung decides to walk directly towards the Vanguard (B) His auburn eye locking onto it as he carefully looks over at it from top to bottom. “These are not what they would call advanced. A standard model really. Mass produced. Either they didn’t have an engineer at hand to fix it or they were pushed away and decided it would be best to leave it behind.”

(Castor ArendtMateus) (B) - The vanguard's left cermet drill has also been damaged, the drill head of that arm having been shattered with surpassing force. A stenciled service number on the android’s armor suggests that it once served the VIth legion’s third cohort. Both its inner workings and the weapon itself merit a further look.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Gair, Maximillian, and L'maadja - please roll!

Robyn LannerBalmung (at point A) sees Lucas is already investigating the tent proper, so he turns his attention to the rest of the site, keeping his eyes peeled for anything of interest, no matter how small...

(Castor ArendtMateus) Robyn, please roll!

Random! Robyn LannerBalmung rolls a 389.

Random! Maximilian AndersonBalmung rolls a 487.

Lucas NevinBalmung walks right into the tent, gun drawn, pushing the flap aside in a swift motion just... in case. Just in case. Is anyone hiding in this dilapidated tent?!

Random! L'maadja SheccaBalmung rolls a 330.

Random! You roll a 83.

Castor ArendtMateus >> For a supposedly unbreakable substance, the cermet that makes up this drill appears to have provided as much resistance as wet talc. That said, there's not much to be gleaned from it - a broken weapon is just that.

Robyn LannerBalmung finds himself mostly wondering how they could have started much of a fire on rocky terrain like this. But that's not particularly helpful to the investigation, so he keeps his thoughts to himself.

Maximilian AndersonBalmung lets out a nod as he looks over it. He takes his time to examine what was left behind. “It is as I expected.” He turns over towards the group. “This is just a chassis. The core is gone which is the more valuable part of these. All this is just a shell. We can still use it, of course, if we make our own core to make it operational.”

Castor ArendtMateus crouches nearby to the fire across from Robyn, an expression of unease on his face. "Nothing but wind. Like they all got up in the middle of evening mess."

Robyn LannerBalmung thinks very hard. "Something...chased them away, you think? Something that could make them call for a retreat so suddenly."

L'maadja SheccaBalmung taps her chin in thought towards Maximilian. "They were smart enough to take it at the very least. Oh well. Fashioning a core shouldn't be too difficult, but it'd be safer if we could get it back to the main camp of course."

Lucas NevinBalmung exhales in a gust when he finds the tent empty. He holsters his weapon and begins poking around, picking up mildewy documents and parsing them one by one. "There was a fight in here," he calls out to Castor and Robyn. "Or a hasty retreat. Maybe they got spooked -- last record I can find is from a few moons ago."

Castor ArendtMateus: "Moons," Castor echoes, nodding to Robyn. "But what makes a squad of legionnaries turn tail and run?" He rolls his shoulders and turns to the group by the vanguard. "Theories?"

Gair Brandt thuds a boot on the drill and shrugs, musing aloud. "Busted, by somethin' that made this tough 'lil drill look like eggshells."

Maximilian AndersonBalmung: "Probably something more important came up. They took the time to remove the core after all."

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "Something hard then, of course. Rock or metal. They could have engaged with something and retreated back here, and made a hasty exit."

Castor ArendtMateus: "Could be any number of things, magitek or plain magic. Clearly, it saw some action before they deactivated." He glances to Maximillian and nods, slowly. "Someone had their ease in taking the thing apart, then."

Lucas NevinBalmung pushes his way back out of the tent with a handful of documents, none of them looking particularly important. "They had time to take all the sensitive shit with them. Which means they had /some/ warning, whether it was internal or external." He looks around the camp with his hands on his hips. "Anything out here?" he asks Robyn.

Robyn LannerBalmung: "Nothing unusual." Robyn glances over the campsite again as he speaks, but nothing new jumps out at him. "Nothing that explains what happened here, at least."

Gair Brandt: "I couldn't see them retreating with a vanguard, though...they'd just as soon abandon it 'an turn tail, I'd think."

Lucas NevinBalmung glances over his shoulder at the vanguard (B) and decides to take a closer look at that, too.

Castor ArendtMateus: "Certainly they'd value their skin over the heart of a mass-produced war machine."

Robyn LannerBalmung doesn't want to be left alone out here, so he also joins the other group.

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "But they did. The battle damage and remains could be because they didn't have the resources to repair its damage regardless. That could be why they took the core and left it here."

Maximilian AndersonBalmung: "And the core is the hardest part to manufacture anyways. I'd do the same in their position. The chassis is whatever really. Bunch of scrap metal placed together."

Lucas NevinBalmung crawls up to dig around inside the chassis with the ease of no small amount of practice.

Castor ArendtMateus worries at his lip. "They had some very conscientious architechti stationed here, then." Castor huffs and turns to watch Lucas look over the vanguard - and then crawl inside. "Good grief," he murmurs.

Gair Brandt 's lips tug to one side and he lifts a shoulder in a faint shrug to L'maadja. "You lot know better than I."

(Castor ArendtMateus) Lucas, please roll!

(Lucas NevinBalmung) Random! 622

Lucas NevinBalmung: "I'm going to give myself tetanus for this," Lucas murmurs with grit teeth as he pokes around in the machina's guts.

Castor ArendtMateus: "Then stop poking around and let's go. What we came for isn't here.

Lucas NevinBalmung: "Why would they just take the core?" he asks, hopping back out.

Lucas NevinBalmung: "It's like they wanted the machine disabled. The core isn't that valuable by itself."

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "So others wouldn't be able to use it I imagine, or they have another vanguard elsewhere."

Castor ArendtMateus: "Because it's valuable? Because the rest of the thing is an utter metal menace?" Castor grimaces. "I'm not even sure I'm willing to haul that hunk of junk back without a few draught chocobo bearing the weight."

Maximilian AndersonBalmung: "Theory is the Vanguard has been damaged. Core is the most valuable part of the machine, rip it so no one can just hop in and go for a joy ride and depart."

Maximilian AndersonBalmung: "Damaged or at least need some repairs from the most recent battle it has seen."

Lucas NevinBalmung: "Yeah, yeah, I know. But --" He cuts himself off.

Robyn LannerBalmung folds his arms over his chest and nods along to the conversation, as if most of it isn't going entirely over his head.

Castor ArendtMateus: "But?"

Lucas NevinBalmung: "A core isn't /useful/ by itself. And it's not that valuable, not to Garleans. Someone specifically wanted this machine non-functional."

Lucas NevinBalmung: "Whatever. Let's go."

Castor ArendtMateus nods slowly, cautious. "Right, then."

Lucas NevinBalmung: "It's good scrap, if nothing else."

(Castor ArendtMateus) [Something is happening!] <se.6> <se.1>
(Castor ArendtMateus) The traverse along the wind-scoured earth ahead leads towards what looks like an obelisk of some sort jutting straight up out of the island’s surface. Castor looks to the rest of the party, “We’ve found what we can here - and not a lick of whatever these three eyes managed to dig up. Let’s press on ahead.” He leads the way with his eyes warily scanning the horizon - and all notice after a moment’s march that there is a change in the air.
(Castor ArendtMateus) There. Cresting around a nearby floating boulder, a flock of brilliantly colored toco toco - cawing up a storm, as it happens, though the sound is lost on the wind until they draw nearer. Their flight pattern is beautiful, and as some might notice, frantic. The cause for their distress becomes apparent a moment later - a great Death Gaze, mandibles dripping with venom, barbed tail hooked high as its leathery wings ride on the draft of the flock.
(Castor ArendtMateus) As the chase reaches the island, the toco toco suddenly scatter in a panic all around the party (B) (D) (C) - with the Death Gaze (A) still bearing down behind them!
(Castor ArendtMateus) Combat begins against the flock of panicked toco toco and the Death Gaze! Fortunately, their attention is mostly on each other - the huge cloudkin snatching smaller prey birds out of the air left and right. Castor draws one of his pistols and fires it in the air, clearing a number of toco toco away with frightened screeches. "Damn bloody birds! Let's clear these things out!"
(Castor ArendtMateus) Lucas is up first - [You can resume the roleplay.] <se.2>

Gair Brandt: "More *fucking* birds," Gair laments as the combat pops off.

L'maadja SheccaBalmung reaches into one of her pouches. "Keep them mostly intact if you could. I could use all their parts."

Lucas NevinBalmung draws his firearm and quickly aims at the closest toco toco (D), firing off a rapid shot.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Lucas, please roll! Robyn, it's your turn!

(Lucas NevinBalmung) Random! 195

Robyn LannerBalmung tries not to wonder too much what L'maadja needs those parts for -- and instead readies a cast, aiming to drop lightning upon the Death Gaze's head.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Robyn, please roll! L'maadja, you're up!

Random! Robyn LannerBalmung rolls a 737.

L'maadja SheccaBalmung doesn't have much to fight with that she's comfortable showing off quite yet. Instead, she pulls out a knife, flicking it towards the mouth of the Death Gaze.

(Castor ArendtMateus) L'maadja, please roll! Gair, get these fucking birds.

Random! L'maadja SheccaBalmung rolls a 311.

Gair Brandt steps forward, seeing the primary threat of the Death Gaze. He cocks back his offhand, a jagged bolt of dark aether forming in his grasp that he hurtles toward the Death Gaze!

(Castor ArendtMateus) Gair, please roll! Maximillian, your turn!

Random! You roll a 825.

Maximilian AndersonBalmung draws his blade from it’s scabbard, slicing down over at the nearest toco toco (D).

(Castor ArendtMateus) Maximillian, please roll! Ready yourselves for the response!

(Maximilian AndersonBalmung) Random! 394

(Castor ArendtMateus) /p Lucas manages to pin one of the screeching demons dead to rights - but there's so bloody /many/ of them. Just as they swirl around Lucas in confused, pecking frenzy, Robyn calls a bolt of levin dead from the gray sky - it strikes the Death Gaze in a dazzling display, provoking agonized shudders and a vicious cry of revenge.

(Castor ArendtMateus) L’maadja’s knife follows - though it only grazes the edge of the hard mandible, the beast remains unfazed as it turns its attention towards the expeditioners. Gair’s bolt of dark energy crashes into the creature just as it prepares to charge, however, momentarily throwing it off its balance.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Maximillian strides forward with decisive slashes, cleaving through pesky avians one by one - but a conventional tactic can’t seem to match them for numbers. The death Gaze howls its frustration and beats its wings, attempting both to clear the flock and to send the party spiralling backwards with a mighty gust!

(Castor ArendtMateus) Everyone, please roll!

(Maximilian AndersonBalmung) Random! 377
Random! You roll a 436.
(Lucas NevinBalmung) Random! 633
Random! L'maadja SheccaBalmung rolls a 341.
(Castor ArendtMateus) Random! 408
Random! Robyn LannerBalmung rolls a 193.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Everyone but Lucas is hit by the Death Gaze's Wing Buffet - you decide how badly. The second round begins with the cawing and pecking of the smaller birds growing ever more inescapable, and the Death Gaze poised to strike out with its tail, despite some significant wounds.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Lucas, it's your turn!

Castor ArendtMateus stumbles backwards, caught by the headwinds and thrown to his knees. A momentary reprieve from the pecking horde streaming above, but nevertheless cold comfort to be found in the hard, cold earth. He levers himself up on an elbow and lets off another shot from his pistol, trying to catch the Death Gaze in the underbelly.

Lucas NevinBalmung digs his boots into what small amount of grit he can find for purchase on the rocky ground. He continues firing at the toco toco behind him (C), as though trying to get them to scatter.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Lucas, please roll! Robyn, more magic please!

(Lucas NevinBalmung) Random! 25

Robyn LannerBalmung is sent tumbling back by the force of the buffet, knocked head over feet before he finally falls prone to the ground. Fortunately, he hasn't quite lost grip of the blade in his hand, and the focus hasn't been knocked too far either; unfortunately he's too disoriented to react except in blind panic, and sends a scattering of lightning bolts upon the tocos nearest him.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Robyn, roll away! L'maadja, show us what's in your pouches!

Random! Robyn LannerBalmung rolls a 117.

L'maadja SheccaBalmung was a fairly lanky, thin sort after all. The buffet of wind not really getting much resistance from the cat. Throwing her over onto her back, and making her slide against the stone some. Luckily she's wearing a thick coat. Breathing out, and hopping to her feet, she reached into her pouch again. Pulling out a vial which she tosses instead. A fairly weak dose of a paralysis potion, but hopefully enough to slow the Death Gaze down.

(Castor ArendtMateus) L'maadja, roll please! Gair, death magic seems like it's working!

Random! L'maadja SheccaBalmung rolls a 386.

(Gair Brandt) The best death magic is B L O O D L O S S)

Gair Brandt 's turban flies away with the wind to show a gilt black helmet underneath, the man himself tumbling back onto the ground. Only catching himself with the plunge of his sword into the stone beneath him. His ire drawn, he charges back in to engage the Death Gaze. Making wide hewing swipes for it's tail, it's feet, anything that will bite!

(Castor ArendtMateus) Gair, roll at your leisure! Maximillian, show us some swordplay!

Random! You roll a 984.

(Castor ArendtMateus) (( fuq ))

Maximilian AndersonBalmung is pushed back onto his back, causing him to slam down onto the ground as he grits his teeth from the impact. Quickly he picks himself up onto his feet as he slashes the air in a horizontal fashion sending an wave of aether with a pull of the weapon’s trigger.
(Maximilian AndersonBalmung)  (( Whoops forgot to add to where. Death Gaze (A) ))

(Castor ArendtMateus) All good! Roll away, and brace for the next round!

(Maximilian AndersonBalmung) Random! 830

(Castor ArendtMateus) Between Lucas and Robyn’s desperate but exceptionally loud displays of marksmanship and fizzling lightning, the toco tocos seem discouraged, if not actually hurt. Gair’s forward charge is assisted by Maadja’s dose, which seems to slow the creature if not actually paralyze it - enabling both his vicious cuts and Maximillian’s aetheric slash to vivisect the creature!

(Castor ArendtMateus) The toco tocos realize, a moment later, that the greatest threat is dealt with. Still, the two at the rear of the party have troubled them enough, and they make a show of a few more vindictive pecks for each of the expeditioners before they beat their wings skywards, cawing all the way.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Combat has ended, but everyone please roll!

Random! You roll a 658.
Random! L'maadja SheccaBalmung rolls a 750.
Random! Robyn LannerBalmung rolls a 269.
Random! Castor ArendtMateus rolls a 133.
(Lucas NevinBalmung) Random! 7
(Maximilian AndersonBalmung) Random! 167

(Castor ArendtMateus) Poor Robyn, Castor, and Maximillian take almost the worst of the avian punishment - almost, because Lucas is utterly savaged in some fashion by vindictive cloudkin.

Castor ArendtMateus makes a show of flailing his arms and legs somewhat helplessly at the attacking swarm - eventually they leave off, but only when he is covered in feathers and thin scratches. Elegant. He staggers to his feet and pants. "Fucking. Birds," he echoes.
Gair Brandt wards himself with an arm and perhaps too accustomed to making bird noises, imitates an angry chocobo call. "WARK! WARK! Piss off!"

Robyn LannerBalmung had resorted to wildly waving his sword about in dealing with the toco menace, and only stops once he's sure they're gone. That done, he carefully, carefully, gets back to his feet. "Was that-- all of them?"

Castor ArendtMateus: "Dangers of the Sea of Clouds," Castor opines bitterly. He turns to take stock of the rest, brushing a multi-colored feather out of his hair.

L'maadja SheccaBalmung swatted at the flying by birds. "Blegh - They're getting in the way." She huffed, before looking at the body of the former Death Gaze. "I should see what I can salvage from that. Hopefully not too much of its internals were damaged. Its mandibles look fine..."

Lucas NevinBalmung is wearing so many capes that the birds manage to wrench him around by the tails of them, twisting him several different ways at once. Mayhap if he were a little bit smaller, a little bit lighter, they could have ferried off with him. It takes an excessive amount of flapping and squawking of his own to get them damn birds to lay off -- a truly dignified showing by Lucas Nevin, Engineering Overseer. "I'm fine," he snaps before anyone can ask. The curly mop of his hair is in exquisite disarray.

(Castor ArendtMateus) The Death Gaze lies lifeless, leaking vilekin blood on the ground. Chopped up, electrocuted, and aetherically poisoned by Gair's magic - it is not a pretty sight.

Maximilian AndersonBalmung waves his arms about in order to shoo away the vicious attacks from the toco toco “Freakin’ Birds!” He shouts out as he is pecked by the swarm around them before they dissipate away from them. “Bugger off!” He looks down at him with a soft sigh of disbelief.

Castor ArendtMateus has at least the courtesy not to point out the others' dishevelled appearances. He breathes a sigh. "At least they're gone. We're all fit to continue, I hope?"

Castor ArendtMateus: "If it all it takes is a few birds to spoil our morale, I have slim hopes for this expedition."

Lucas NevinBalmung: "I'm fine!" he says again, plucking feathers out of his hair. He doesn't get all of them.

L'maadja SheccaBalmung observes the Gaze's body, reaching into one of her pouches to pull out a small kit filled with surgical supplies. "I'll only be just a moment." She states before going to cut open the creature with a scalpel. "I need to see if there's anything good still ticking for the taking."

Robyn LannerBalmung isn't exactly looking pretty himself, but he looks to Lucas with extreme concern as he sheathes his sword. "Er-- Are you... Do you need any...?" But he doesn't know how to finish that without being snapped at...

Gair Brandt snorts and rumbles out a laugh. "Least it wasn't a damn griffin, speakin' of..." From his belt he plucks out a knife made of some curved talon and holds it up to Castor before tossing it to him grip-first.

Lucas NevinBalmung shakes it off like a wet dog. "I'm fine," he repeats himself a third time, a bit more calmly to Robyn. Look, he's holding it together.

Robyn LannerBalmung is fairly reassured by that, actually. He nods with a smile and takes a moment to dust himself off.

Lucas NevinBalmung: "Is she just going to --" he trails off, watching L'maadja open up the bird. "She is. Okay."

Castor ArendtMateus only sighs at Lucas. He catches the talon-knife with a surprised sound and turns it in his grasp. A moment's consideration, and he scoffs. "Quite the trophy - my thanks. I think I'll keep it stowed on the ship, though." He glances to Maadja at her labors, a grimace coming over his features. "Er - what are you looking for?"

Lucas NevinBalmung accepts this.
L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "Anything, and everything. Some blood, an organ or two. Some of the mandible, maybe some bone. I don't get access to creatures like this too often you see."

Castor ArendtMateus: "Uh... huh." Even if he wants desperately to ask why, he elects not to. "Well, be quick about it. The last thing I want to do is be here when the carrion eaters show up."

Maximilian AndersonBalmung: "Maybe she wants that too."

Gair Brandt: "Maybe the whole tail, ain't those things got venom?"

Castor ArendtMateus: "Nice work, by the way, the lot of you. Fearsome stuff. I liked the levin." He looks to Gair. "And the - whatever it was you did."

Castor ArendtMateus: "Haven't seen that technique many places, mister Anderson."

Lucas NevinBalmung seems content to watch the miqo'te work from a distance, with an expression of absolutely fascinated disgust.

Gair Brandt: "Or is that scorpions..." Gair trails off, the comment from Castor illiciting a hasty explanation. "...Thaumaturgy."

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "It's secreated out from a gland. So that's all I'd need. Not the whole tail."

(Castor ArendtMateus) The gland, fortunately, seems untouched by the internal damage inflicted either by lightning or by what is Definitely thaumaturgy.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Also swords. The swords didn't get it either.

Maximilian AndersonBalmung looks over at Castor with a slow nod. "Aetherical Charged Ammunition. Common in Ishgard."

L'maadja SheccaBalmung does make quick work though. Taking what she can at the very least. Some blood, the end of the stinger, and some random organs. Tossing them all into a single bag, wet with viscera. "That'll be enough for now." She nods, returning to the group.

Castor ArendtMateus purses his lips at that. "I ought to catch up, then. Hate to think I've fallen behind the masters." He glances to Maadja as she returns. "That so?" He looks displeased by the sight of the bag, but only nods. "Let's keep moving, then."

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "Can't create without materials. I'm sure you can understand."

Gair Brandt: "Hell of a showin' from you lads, though. Glad the poison' an' levin is on my side," Gair shudders.

Castor ArendtMateus: "Very well put." He still doesn't look thrilled, but he turns on his heel and prepares to continue along the island's course.

Robyn LannerBalmung follows along without another word. Still a little too bird-rattled for conversation...

Castor ArendtMateus: "Abandoned camp. Bird attacks. And not a single piece of Allagan tech in sight - "

(Castor ArendtMateus) [Something is happening!] <se.6> <se.1>
L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "Least we got something out of it."
(Castor ArendtMateus) With no shelter from the eternal gusts of the sea, this stretch of the island seems to have been stripped bare of even the most durable weeds springing up through the cracks. The only thing left to stand among the rock and crystal is what appears to be a graven pillar, a pylon (A) stretching towards the indifferent sky perhaps twelve films in height.
(Castor ArendtMateus) Drawing closer, it is plain that this allagan relic is host to a sight altogether more gruesome: three wind-torn corpses, strung up by their hands to the surface of the device. Advance decay has obviously set in, but a number of things are still obvious: two of the corpses bear the telltale third eye in the center of their brow. All have had writing carved savagely into their chests - Garlean script.
(Castor ArendtMateus) Some distance away is a strange device of Garlean design, tall as a hyur and standing on a tripod (B). It faces the empty expanse of the Sea, unattended in this place of death.
(Castor ArendtMateus) [You can resume the roleplay.] <se.2>

Castor ArendtMateus: "Gar..."

Maximilian AndersonBalmung: "You just had to say it."

Robyn LannerBalmung visibly pales as he takes in the sight, eyes widening. "What... Why...? Why would they...?"

Lucas NevinBalmung steps up to (A) with a great degree of trepidation, squinting at the script carved into the bodies. "What the fuck," he whispers quietly to himself.

Castor ArendtMateus grimaces over his shoulder at Maximillian. "Call me a jinx." He wordlessly steps towards the relic and the device beyond.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Second verse, same as the first! Get close and look at what you want!

Gair Brandt: "More hazards, shall we?"

Gair Brandt rumbles a rueful laugh as he steps up to the pylon and device.

(Castor ArendtMateus) The pillar, and its gruesome adornments, stand stoic amidst the scene. Who dares approach? Both the bodies and the pillar itself merit a recokning.

(Castor ArendtMateus) This machine looks something like an observatorium telescope - if observatorium telescopes had clear magiteknical origins and about three times as many bells and whistles. The scope itself - as well as the sea it faces on - could bear investigation.

Robyn LannerBalmung tries to avoid looking at the bodies directly; he wants to investigate the pillar itself.

Lucas NevinBalmung pales visibly at whatever he sees on the strung-up corpses hanging from the allagan pylon. His expression goes ashen, mouth open.

Gair Brandt: "Now what have we here..." Gair steps up to the pylon, his nostrils flaring to take in the scent of the nearby air- of all things.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Robyn, Gair, Maadja, and Maximillian, please roll!
Random! You roll a 427.
Random! Robyn LannerBalmung rolls a 789.
(Maximilian AndersonBalmung) /dice
(Maximilian AndersonBalmung) Random! 364

Lucas NevinBalmung inspects the bodies in a more general sense. He looks for signs of rank, identity.

(Lucas NevinBalmung) Random! 822

Castor ArendtMateus >> The aura here is thick with umbral wind - not enough to be dangerous, but certainly enough to hamper the effectiveness of other elements. Even so, there is a potent connection stringing from the pillar nearby to the sea beyond. It goes beyond sight, but the flow seems suspiciously intentional - directed. There is an eerie sense of being watched.

Gair Brandt pivots his stance and turns around, his gaze darting to the skies. A sour expression on his countenance.

(Lucas NevinBalmung) Lucas drags his hand down his cheek, still deeply unsettled by something. "These people were executed. Look, here:" He gestures at bullet wounds densely focused on the bodies' torsos.

(Robyn LannerBalmung) Robyn comes close enough, perhaps unwisely, to trace his gloved fingers over the inscriptions on the pylon. "Coordinates...?"

Gair Brandt: (Reposting for posterity in party.

(Lucas NevinBalmung) "They were executed /recently/ too. After the site was abandoned. They haven't been out here all that long."

(Gair Brandt) Gair pivots his stance and turns around, his gaze darting to the skies. A sour expression on his countenance.

(L'maadja SheccaBalmung) messes around with the machine, getting close to it, and nodding to herself. "If I had to guess, it's used to measure aether." She tells Maximilian. "And if i were to do... this..." Maadja says lowly, beginning to mess around with the dials and buttons. "It seems like it's still in working condition, I'm sure there's a way to get it to start."

(Castor ArendtMateus) The surface of the pillar is gross, Robyn. Castor steps over to Lucas, scrutinizing the corpses - his brow furrows.

(Castor ArendtMateus) "Poor blighters. Mark that. Pure bloods, too."

(Robyn LannerBalmung) Good thing he's wearing gloves, then. Still, he'll want a good wash once he's back at camp...

(Lucas NevinBalmung) Lucas looks at Castor with obvious unease. "Who's this a warning /for/?" he asks.

(Castor ArendtMateus) The machine hums to life, displaying its findings on a small magitek display a moment later. Apparently, there is a confluence of wind-aspected aether in this area - to no one’s great surprise. But there is an anomaly, too: a lasting, vibrant, concentrated current which is routed to this site, the pillar nearby, from somewhere… disconcertingly close in the Sea.

(Maximilian AndersonBalmung) He reaches down towards the dials and buttons, pressing them in the sequence needed from memory. “That’s exactly what it is.” Seems he had some prior knowledge or work with the device at hand.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Castor looks to Lucas, equally displeased. "Could have been skypirates. But the script -- " he huffs. "We're missing something."

(Lucas NevinBalmung) "These poor fuckers were rounded up and shot. Tied down and executed, and left as a warning. Not for sky pirates. Not /by/ sky pirates."

(Gair Brandt) Gair sniffs the air again and shakes his head. "This place is steeped in black wind...and it tethers elsewhere in this Twelvesdamned sea of floating islands." A far cry from his usual relaxed demeanor, the highlander's gaze darts over his shoulder more than a few times- visibly paranoid.

(L'maadja SheccaBalmung) "An aetherical anomaly, hm? Guess that's what caused all of this if I had to guess."

Castor ArendtMateus: Castor rolls his shoulders and projects his voice to the two by the scope. "If you're done over there, form up! We need to talk."

(Robyn LannerBalmung) Robyn looks to Gair as he steps back from the pylon, and feels his own anxiety ratchet up a notch. "A black wind--?"

(Maximilian AndersonBalmung) "Pack it up, we can take this with us. Still works and no one's going to use it anyways."

(Castor ArendtMateus) For its size, the scope stows easily enough - retractable limbs and a self-contained sensor unit.

(L'maadja SheccaBalmung) "A good plan. Once we get the data off of it, I could use the parts though. We'll have to discuss that much once we've got it turned in."

(Gair Brandt) "Umbral wind," Gair clarifies to Robyn. "This tether is by design, but to what end?" He motions vaguely in a direction that leads off of the island.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Castor turns to the others with a frown. "What do we know about the pillar itself?"

(Maximilian AndersonBalmung) He lets out a nod over at the Miqo'te letting her collapse the tube as he turns his head over at the group's direction.

(Robyn LannerBalmung) "Here--" Robyn gestures to the inscription. "These look like coordinates, of a sort... Maybe this thing is funnelling aether to wherever those coordinates lead?"

(Lucas NevinBalmung) Lucas looks back at the bodies with an expression that belies an intense nausea. "They're branded as deficient," he says to no one. He speculates: "Populares? No, probably not. Maybe they had a run in with --" He shakes his head. Lucas is, for once, clearly more invested in the human mystery than the technical one.

(Gair Brandt) Gair steps up and follows Robyn's gesturing with his gaze. "Or a ritual? Weren't people executed right here?"

(Castor ArendtMateus) Castor squints - it's all Allagan to him, but he at least nods along with Robyn's hypothesis. "Certainly wasn't intended as a gibbet. Whoever did this didn't want anyone messing with it - and I'm inclined for the moment to listen to them." He stares over at Lucas. "Whoever did this," he continues, "wasn't frightened of an entire VIth legion camp."

(Robyn LannerBalmung) "Are we sure... it wasn't the camp that did this?" He doesn't want to think about why, but...

(L'maadja SheccaBalmung) She motions towards Maximilian. "Is it heavy? Not that I could really help if it was, but one of them could." She motions towards the group. "Lets go see what they've found out. If anything."

>> Castor ArendtMateus: Quick question, Gair knows the direction it leads before it goes out of sight, right? The tether.
Castor ArendtMateus >> Yes - it's heading northwest.

(Maximilian AndersonBalmung) He turns his head back over at the device, quickly he collapses the tube so it becomes portable. He tucks it underneath his right arm as he turns around. “No. I just thought you were going to pick it up as you were messing with it already.”

Lucas NevinBalmung: "What are the odds that the Rovers did this?"

(Lucas NevinBalmung) "What are the odds that the Rovers did this?"

(L'maadja SheccaBalmung) "Once we're back at the main camp, maybe."

Gair Brandt scuffs his boot on the ground and makes an arrow in the dirt pointing vaguely northwest. "Coordinates or no...whatever's bein' directed goes beyond this island."

(Robyn LannerBalmung) Somehow Robyn likes Lucas' idea even less. If this is the sort of enemy they're dealing with...

Castor ArendtMateus: "Kill pure bloods? I doubt it. They might not like Garlemald, but they need their handlers' approval."
Lucas NevinBalmung: "Maybe their handlers are trying to shake things up." Lucas grunts lightly. He's just brainstorming. "The camp was empty when these bodies were strung up. It's more recent."

Castor ArendtMateus: "... Haven't seen anything like this from them, as of yet. This is - " he considers. He's unhappy with the word he chooses, apparently, but he chooses it anyways. "Cruel." He looks to Gair.  "Directed - what could be out that way?"

Castor ArendtMateus: "The only things northwest of here are the sea. Unless - there's another camp."

Gair Brandt: "Not a damn idea," Gair shakes his head at Castor. "Whatever the connection is, it's potent...and..." He darts his gaze behind him. "I feel like I got eyes burnin' on me the more I stand here."

Lucas NevinBalmung hasn't been paying attention. "Do the coordinates line up with your vector?" He nods at the line Gair drew in the dirt.

Castor ArendtMateus shifts and rubs the back of his neck. "... I feel it a bit, too." He glances between Robyn and Gair at Lucas's question.

Castor ArendtMateus: "What did you get from the scope?"

Lucas NevinBalmung: "I'm cutting these bodies down," Lucas say abruptly, pulling a knife from his belt while the others talk.

Gair Brandt: "You're the man with the coordinates," Gair lifts his gaze to Robyn. "Would they lead us northwest?"
Robyn LannerBalmung: "Well--" Suddenly feeling like he's on the spot, Robyn takes another close look at the inscription. "I think... Yes. From what I can read of it, northwest sounds right."

Lucas NevinBalmung , actually, pulls a wrench from his belt, to pry the pitons off of the pillar.

(Castor ArendtMateus) The pitons pull out with some effort. It is gruesome work. The bodies slide to the hard earth.

Lucas NevinBalmung has committed to this action, no matter how macabre. The pitons slowly loosen and fling away under Lucas's focused labor, and he seems, for a moment, like he's going to leave the bodies where they lie. He spends a solid moment grimacing down at them in indecision.

Robyn LannerBalmung did not actually jump. He is not nearly that excited about watching what Lucas is doing.

Castor ArendtMateus: "We're not flying any further than this," Castor supplies to Robyn and Gair offhandedly. "We hardly know the part of the Sea in which the Voyage now lies, let alone beyond these islands."

Gair Brandt nods toward Robyn with his revelation. "Well at least we know where to g-" Deflated instantly. "Fair."

Lucas NevinBalmung: "Then we should send a scout," Lucas supplies, finally bending over to at least lay the bodies out properly in repose. Legs outstretched on the rock, arms crossed over their chest. "Eugh." Lucas spits on the ground, not out of disdain -- it's nausea. It's the nausea, folks.

Castor ArendtMateus: "I still don't like this," he sighs. "We don't know enough. The VIth is measuring aetheric flow to this pillar. Someone - something - hits them, clears out the camp. Then something else comes back weeks later and pins three fresh corpses to the same pylon."

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "Readings from the scope was just about aether in the area. Mostly wind aspected, but there was an anomaly on there to look at. A constant stream of wind aspected aether right at this site. Blowing in from somwehere close too."


Lucas NevinBalmung: "Maybe someone thinks they left prematurely."

Lucas NevinBalmung: "Their reason for leaving wasn't good enough. They abandoned their duty."

Lucas NevinBalmung: "Something spooked them and they got punished for not sticking it through."

Castor ArendtMateus: "That's at the Father's discretion," to Lucas. He sounds as though he agrees, even so. He turns back to give the party a hard look. "Like it or not, this particular mystery isn't why we're here. Their cache has to be nearby."

Lucas NevinBalmung: "Brought back to the site of their disgrace to rot." He spits again. "Let's get to looking, then."

Lucas NevinBalmung: "I wanna look at something else now."

Robyn LannerBalmung: "Me too." Brr.

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "Where could they stash a cache here though? Hm..."

Castor ArendtMateus: "Close by, at the very least. This island isn't much larger." He jerks his head towards the rock formation that dominates the nearby end of the island. Likely as not.
Lucas NevinBalmung: "The dirt's too hard to dig -- this is all rock. They've got it sheltered somewhere above ground." He nods his head at Castor's suggestion.

(Castor ArendtMateus) [Something is happening!] <se.6> <se.1>
(Castor ArendtMateus) Castor huffs disconsolately. “I don’t like this. We find their cache, get what we came for, and leave. Clear?” He marches on ahead without waiting for agreement, only to let out an exasperated cry as he rounds a nearby corner in the rockface. There, over an arched cave mouth leading into the core of the island, is a standard Garlean magitek field - impervious to all but the most serious tampering, or the right code.
(Castor ArendtMateus) A bit of theatre of the mind - this arch, rather than leading to open air, shelters a natural cave ))
(Castor ArendtMateus) A keypad interface is mounted on one of the generators responsible for maintaining the field. Those generators could be overloaded with magic or a well placed strike - to say nothing of the damage such could cause to the expeditioners, or the integrity of the island itself.
(Castor ArendtMateus) [You can resume the roleplay.] <se.2>

Castor ArendtMateus: "Shite."

Robyn LannerBalmung: "Well... I don't suppose anybody knows the code?"

Gair Brandt: "I have trouble gettin' my keys in the hole at home, let alone..." Gair stares on at the field generated.

Lucas NevinBalmung: "All I found in the tent were disciplinary reports and weather patterns."

Castor ArendtMateus: "I certainly don't."

Castor ArendtMateus pinches the bridge of his nose. "Look, right. There's three ways we can do this."

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "Shouldn't just go guessing though."

Lucas NevinBalmung: "No, but --" He waits for Castor to finish.

Castor ArendtMateus glances to Maadja. "Standard for these fields is three entires before lockdown is enabled. GIves us three chances /to/ guess, if we absolutely must."

Castor ArendtMateus: "If we're deft, and we've got enough skilled hands, we could try to separate the generators from the field emitters - we'll need magic and those familiar with engineering for that."

Castor ArendtMateus: "Or, we blow the whole thing up."

Lucas NevinBalmung: "You know I'm good for it," Lucas says. He doesn't specify.

Castor ArendtMateus grunts to Lucas and nods. "Thoughts?" He prompts the others.

Castor ArendtMateus: "For the record, we /can/ guess - we'll only get locked out of the panel if we fail. And sound a klaxon, more than like, but who's around to hear it?"

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "I can try and shut down the generators if I can get access to them." She shrugged. "It should be simple enough to find out by messing with them."

Robyn LannerBalmung: "And if we do get locked out of the panel, can't we just...blow it up?" Might be sounding a bit hopeful, there.
Maximilian AndersonBalmung has beeen there the entire time. Silent as he let everyone talk.

Gair Brandt: "I'm not a dab hand with a wrench or magic, I'll leave gentle entry to our smarter stock."

Castor ArendtMateus: "We can always just blow it up."

Castor ArendtMateus: "Well, let's try the clever way first, then. Lucas, miss Maadja, mister Lanner - as you please."

Gair Brandt: "Should have brought my shotgun for this," Gair laments.

Castor ArendtMateus: "Two of you will need to go through the physical process of decoupling the emitters from the power line. Mister Lanner, you need to dampen the aether flow so that the whole thing doesn't spike."

Lucas NevinBalmung: "L'maadja and I can do the decoupling."

Robyn LannerBalmung: "Right!" It doesn't quite sound like anything he's done before, but he's ready to try it, and has his focus at the ready.

Castor ArendtMateus nods to Lucas. "Your hands at the controls, then."

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "Admittedly, I haven't had much of a chance to mess with these. The experience will be quite welcomed if nothing else."

Gair Brandt claps Robyn's shoulder. "I can at the least keep an eye on the process while you do the work-work. I'll make sure to jump in front if anythin' blows up in your face."

(Castor ArendtMateus) Robyn, Lucas, and Maadja - please roll!

(Lucas NevinBalmung) Random! 266

Random! L'maadja SheccaBalmung rolls a 245.

Robyn LannerBalmung almost jumps at the hand on his shoulder -- but he's appreciative of the gesture, and turns to Gair to give him a quick nod before he turns his attention back to the generators.

Random! Robyn LannerBalmung rolls a 204.

Lucas NevinBalmung settles down on his knees in front of the keypad and pulls a few of his tools out of his belt. He runs his hands along its exterior, looking for where to start dismantling the frontpiece.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Lucas and Robyn (with Gair's help) pass by the skin of their teeth - but if Maadja manipulates that couplet any more, the whole thing will blow.

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "Hm... Guess that isn't the solution. Interesting."

Castor ArendtMateus watches the curtain of light flicker and hum weakly - it wavers, but stays standing with the support of one generator.

Lucas NevinBalmung: "Easy, easy." Lucas speaks more to the wiring in front of him than he does to L'maadja.

Castor ArendtMateus: "Bugger me. Leave it. We don't want to risk an accidental overload."

Gair Brandt | Like an aetheric backseat driver, "More, wait, no- less, less! Whew! No explosions."

Castor ArendtMateus: "The field's compromised, but not down - we either need a really bright idea, or to get exceptionally lucky."

L'maadja SheccaBalmung pulls back, flicking her hands. "Oh well. Worth a try anyway. Garleans have too volatile of machinery."

Robyn LannerBalmung is concentrating very hard on suppressing the aetheric flow -- with help from Gair's backseat driving -- though he's dismayed by the result. "It didn't work, then?"

Lucas NevinBalmung gives her a Look, but doesn't comment.

Castor ArendtMateus >> Gair notices something in the patterns of the flow - there is a familiarity here. A slight tug at his fingers. (Attempting to guess, Gair will have a +250 modifier - but this is still a very difficult check!)

Gair Brandt | Bespeaking not much formal training, he steps up to the barrier. Staring long and hard at it, nearly rubbing his face up against it as his attention darts between those gathered and the generator...
Random! You roll a 770.

(Lucas NevinBalmung) Random! 325
(Castor ArendtMateus) gair, is that an attempt to guess? ))
(Gair Brandt) (Oh, yes!)
(Gair Brandt) (Sorry for not clarifying)
(Castor ArendtMateus) kk! just making sure ))

(Castor ArendtMateus) Gair strides up to the keypad, thoughtful - and then places his fingers to the keys. Four digits; a moment later, the pad chimes, and the barrier deactivates. Castor gawks.

Lucas NevinBalmung: "What."

Castor ArendtMateus: "How did you...?"

Lucas NevinBalmung: "Hey, what the fuck?"

Robyn LannerBalmung stares.

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "Should have just started with that."

Gair Brandt stares at the keypad, then the barrier, then the keypad. Only a mild amount of surprise on his features. "It just seemed like...the code made sense, I think." He scratches the back of his head, not wholly convinced himself.

Castor ArendtMateus: "The code made - " Castor closes his eyes, and exhales through his nose. "We'll talk about it later."

Robyn LannerBalmung: "Well... Good thing we don't have to blow anything up, right?" Haha. Ha.

Castor ArendtMateus: "Very good. Better than I might've hoped."

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "Would have been more fun admittedly. Although, this keeps the generators together. We should take those with us too."

Gair Brandt tilts the visor of his turban up and offers an apologetic smile toward Robyn.

Robyn LannerBalmung smiles back, and even gives him a thumbs up. Good work!

Castor ArendtMateus looks to Maadja and lets out a silvery, surprised laugh. "A prudent thought. With the power off, there'll be no harm in it.

Lucas NevinBalmung is staring at Gair like the man sprouted a fourth head.

Lucas NevinBalmung: "Right." He looks forward, the barrier is down, yes? There's nothing to stop him from just... marching in?

(Castor ArendtMateus) [Something is happening!] <se.6> <se.1>
L'maadja SheccaBalmung nods. "We've got quite a lot out of this little venture, even if it wasn't our true target necessarily. I welcome the chance to study more Garlean technology, and perfecting it."
(Castor ArendtMateus) With the magitek field disabled, only the darkened interior of the cave awaits. The chamber that awaits down a short tunnel gleams with light from fading magitek lamps, reflected off the crystalline walls in greenish hues. The walls of this circular chamber are crowded with crates, loose magitek pieces like weapons and fuel cells, and more complex allagan pieces carefully filed away into individual cases.
(Castor ArendtMateus) What dominates the center of the room, however, is far more eye-catching. An allagan machine, by the looks of it - its gleaming surface reflective like platinum, with a dull hum rumbling out from inside of its chassis. It is a bulbous, vaguely man shaped thing (A) with four great arms presently retracted and a diremite’s complement of legs supporting it. A magitek transistor has been affixed to tis spherical ‘head’ and part of its back.
(Castor ArendtMateus) [You can resume the roleplay.] <se.2>

Castor ArendtMateus scans the room, though it's hard to take his gaze off the construct in the center. "... Well."

Robyn LannerBalmung grimaces. "That's...not what we came for, right?"

(Castor ArendtMateus) The machine seems, for the moment, to be dormant. Castor looks back at Robyn. "Maybe?"

Lucas NevinBalmung: "Whatever it is, it's on." He approaches (A).

L'maadja SheccaBalmung: "Perfect for the taking regardless."

Castor ArendtMateus: "We'll clear out the room, first. Take stock. Don't think we could get it on the shuttle, but some choice pieces --" he cuts himself off, and goes back to examining the construct.

Robyn LannerBalmung: "What would we even *do* with something like that?" asks Robyn, genuine curiosity and confusion in his voice. "Ride it into battle?"

Gair Brandt trails behind the group some, casting a glance back to the entrance every once in a while. Belatedly noticing the centerpiece of the operation in this cave. "Oh...what the hells is *that* thing."

(Castor ArendtMateus) [Something is happening!] <se.6> <se.1>
(Castor ArendtMateus) A diode blinks once, twice, on the imperial device’s surface. Then, there is a titanic roar of metal as the thing shudders to stand abruptly. Its arms unfurl, and its four clawed hands flex powerfully as energy fills its singular, large eye. It makes a horrid screeching noise of gears - and the transistor on its back announces it in crisp, if slightly static Garlean ushering forth from an attached speaker.
(Castor ArendtMateus) "[Route runtime has occurred: access violation. Enemies of the em-em-empire,” the spliced magitek titan stutters, “suffer the price of dissidence.]"
(Castor ArendtMateus) [You can resume the roleplay.] <se.2> - and it's fight time!

(Castor ArendtMateus) Lucas, you can take your turn now!

(Lucas NevinBalmung) Random! 458

Lucas NevinBalmung: | Rather than attacking the machine immediately, Lucas does his best to back out of the way of its swinging arms and do a rapid-fire appraisal of its make --  form and function.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Robyn, please take your turn!

Robyn LannerBalmung has his sword out as soon as the thing shudders to life, focus spinning at his fingertips. Constructs don't like levin, right? That's what he hopes, and he casts a lightning strike aimed squarely for its head.

Lucas NevinBalmung: "The legs are weak," Lucas calls to the others. "There's something fucky about them. Magitek, but like. Bio...magitek. I haven't seen shit like this before." He goes for cover, checking his gun.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Robyn, go ahead and roll! Attacks made with Lucas's direction will have a +100 bonus for the round - Maadja, focus up!

Random! Robyn LannerBalmung rolls a 476.

L'maadja SheccaBalmung squints at the contruct, scanning over the entirety of its body. "I won't resort to anything too reckless. Long as we're winning." She tells the group, nodding towards Lucas, looking towards the contruct's legs. "Lets go with this-" She reached into her pouch, before pulling out a small device, holding it out towards Gair! "See if you can attach this to its joint? You're more physically capable of getting in there than I am."

(Castor ArendtMateus) L'maadja gives Gair a bonus to his next attack, cumulative with lucas's - a total of +300 if he makes use of her device and Lucas's direction! Gair, it's your turn!

Gair Brandt 's hand was resting on the hilt of his great blade and instead takes the device from L'maadja. Offering her a nod. "Will do, sister!" He takes the barest moment to look over how it would attatch before he charges in, intent to latch the device to the magiteknical beast's joints.

Random! You roll a 821.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Gair, roll for that! Maximillian, it's your ace!

Maximilian AndersonBalmung raises up his left arm as he still had the device that was picked up earlier by the edge. He places the blade down against his armored arm aiming the sword as if it was a gun towards the legs of the biomagitek construct. He pulls the trigger shooting a burst of Aether towards the construct before the breach opens up to release the spent cartridges, allowing him to reload.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Maximillian, go ahead and roll! Everyone brace for the next round!

(Maximilian AndersonBalmung) Random! 803

(Castor ArendtMateus) The magitek machine rises up on its eight legs and commits its arms to a whirling tornado of death - just before Robyn’s conjured lightning strikes it square in the head, though the magic seems to diffuse somewhat across its surface. Just as it winds up for its strike, however, Gair slide in under a swing and plants the explosive just where two of the legs join the chassis.
(Castor ArendtMateus) There is an ear-splitting sound as the device explodes, and the machine-thing shrieks in reply. “Sedition meets with death!” comes its static rebuke as it teeters onto one side - those legs are disabled. Maximilian’s blade makes swift work of another joint, slicing clean through the complex alloy.
(Castor ArendtMateus) Still, it swings forwards with its clawed hand, attempting to catch Gair in revenge! Its magitek eye glows, and a moment later, a beam of burning light launches forth, aimed at Maadja and Maximillian alike! Castor barks a warning even as he dashes forwards, peppering the thing's chest with ceruleum-laced ammunition in an attempt to bull through its defense.

Random! Castor ArendtMateus rolls a 153.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Gair, Maadja, and Maximillian, please roll!

Random! You roll a 249.
Random! L'maadja SheccaBalmung rolls a 665.
(Maximilian AndersonBalmung) Random! 278

(Castor ArendtMateus) Maadja manages to avoid the blast - but Maximillian is singed, and Gair is battered by a magitek claw! Lucas, your turn!

Lucas NevinBalmung takes a moment to catch his breath while everyone else is busy blowing things up and stabbing and getting shot at. What's up, Overseer? What are you doing over there? Taking cover. Lucas checks his gun, then leans out from behind whatever modicum of shelter he's found to fire at what remains of the machine's weird little legs.

(Lucas NevinBalmung) Random! 213

(Castor ArendtMateus) Robyn, let's see some spellwork on this monster!

Robyn LannerBalmung had heard Lucas' direction a bit too late last time, but this time he's more on the ball; he calls on ice-aspected aether this time, aiming to encase the thing's remaining legs in immobile ice.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Roll for it! Maadja, we could use some quick thinking.

Random! Robyn LannerBalmung rolls a 242.

L'maadja SheccaBalmung did a quick roll out of the way as she saw the eye burning brightly. She squinted up at the eye of the construct, and went back to reaching into her pouch...Pulling out a black vial, which she tosses towards the face of it. Hopefully the black ink would be enough to make it momentarily blind.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Go ahead and roll! Gair, you're up!

Random! L'maadja SheccaBalmung rolls a 833.

(Castor ArendtMateus) we're about wrapping up - sorry if it's taken a little longer than anticipated ))

Gair Brandt is raked over the shoulder by a set of claws, snaking underneath his pauldron to earn a wound from the man! He growls out furiously and surges forward with the intent to grab that arm and grapple with the magitek automata. Intent to immobilize it's armament and create an opening for the other fighters.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Gair, please roll! Maximillian, tear it apart!

Random! You roll a 185.

Maximilian AndersonBalmung is blasted by the beam, burning through his armor and onto his skin. He slams his blade down onto the ground to erect a barrier to ensure he doesn’t get burned even more than he already has. Luckily the device survives the attack. He leaves the sword in the ground as he pulls out his revolver from it’s holster, taking aim and firing a number of shots towards the legs.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Maximillian, please roll!

(Maximilian AndersonBalmung) Random! 416

(Castor ArendtMateus) The machine struggles to and fro wildly. The effect would be disorienting enough on its own, were it not also baring the Garlean imperial anthem through its speakers. The resultant discord is enough to make even Lucas’s best placed shot miss and the machine break Robyn’s ice even as it forms.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Maadja’s ink splatter, however, seems to do the trick - just as another blast bubbles up behind its eye, the thing is blinded, and it turns its beam on itself attempting to shake it off, burning a hole through its carapace-like exterior. Its struggling unintentionally throws Gair off, however, whipping him back onto the hard stone floor. Maximilian’s shots struggle to find their marks with the creature’s erratic movement.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Even so, the mechanical beasts seems on its last legs as it heaves all four arms upwards! “Error! Error!” It bellows. “Xande! Xande! Love for - Xalvus!” Its arms crash into the ground in a dizzying seismic event, threatening to throw or mangle the whole party!

(Castor ArendtMateus) Everyone roll - and then get ready to finish this thing off.

Random! You roll a 897.

Random! Robyn LannerBalmung rolls a 70.
(Lucas NevinBalmung) Random! 694
Random! L'maadja SheccaBalmung rolls a 66.
Random! Castor ArendtMateus rolls a 949.
(Maximilian AndersonBalmung) Random! 130
(Castor ArendtMateus) Gair, Lucas, and Castor Evade - but Maximillian, Robyn, and Maadja are somehow caught out!
(Castor ArendtMateus) Top of the round, Lucas, it's your go!

Lucas NevinBalmung is afforded some protection by his cover, but still he ducks from the blowback. It whips some of the remaining feathers out of his hair. Nice. "Xande?!" Lucas asks no one in particular, running out from behind his cover and taking more potshots -- this time at the machine's eye -- on his way back to the rest of the group.

(Lucas NevinBalmung) Random! 909

(Castor ArendtMateus) Awesome! Robyn, your turn!

Robyn LannerBalmung is once again sent tumbling to the ground by an enemy attack, and lightning sparks from his blade as he hits the ground. He's hurt, but there's no time now to react to the pain; this thing has to be stopped, and with a sudden surge of aether, he looses a levin bolt from the focus in his outstretched hand.

Random! Robyn LannerBalmung rolls a 127.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Maadja, hope you have a trick ready - its your turn!

L'maadja SheccaBalmung lets out a yelp as she's tossed around from the seismic activity. Getting tossed to the ground and against the wall. She huffs out, climbing to her feet, groaning. "Ungh-" Maadja shuffles through her stuff again, pulling out a grenade. "If my aim's good..." Spying the hole he had burned through his own chest earlier, she gaze her grenade a toss, hoping to sink it right in.

Random! L'maadja SheccaBalmung rolls a 179.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Explosive, one way or another - Gair, see it through!

Gair Brandt slams onto the stone floor as he is thrown off, the sword on his back breaking his fall, ouch. Mercifully keeping his senses to roll left out of the way from the slamming arm, then right to avoid another. "Fuckfuckfuckfuck!" He scrambles to his feet and brings his greatsword to bare, grasping the blade like a spear. Surging forward to charge it down and run the beast through!
Random! You roll a 651.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Heroic as always. Maximillian, you're up!

Maximilian AndersonBalmung meets the ground once more. Pecked, burned, and even thrown. He lets out a grunt as he didn’t have his hand on his blade ensuring that there was nothing he could really do in that event. He leans upwards as he remained on the ground, aiming at the creature to take a few more shots at it.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Maximillian, please roll!

(Maximilian AndersonBalmung) Random! 835

(Castor ArendtMateus) Just as the machine finishes its rampage, Lucas sinks a shot right in its eye - prompting a burst of magiteknical fire and what sounds like a truly pained wail from the speaker and the machine itself. Robyn’s bolt careens towards the chassis and spreads across its surface, sparking and adding to the mayhem - just as Maadja’s handheld grenade erupts behind the machine with a powerful blast of sound and fire!

(Castor ArendtMateus) Gair’s desperate charge catches the pained machine right at a joint in its side while it is so dazed and unable to protect itself - while Maximillian puts that aether-infused ammo to decisive use, opening hole after hole in the metal titan’s carapace.

(Castor ArendtMateus) With a last, shuddering gasp of "For the empiiyyurrrrrr..." the machine ratchets down, laying in a smoking heap. Victory, if by the skin of their teeth, is the party's.

(Castor ArendtMateus) Combat has ended! And- [Something is happening!] <se.6> <se.1>

(Castor ArendtMateus) The chamber is silent. Those pieces of Magitek the construct has not destroyed in its fury are left unguarded. Conspicuously, a small notebook rests on one of the crates that had been hidden by the machine’s mass. Perhaps it will provide some answers as to what happened here.

(Castor ArendtMateus) [You can resume the roleplay.] <se.2>

Castor ArendtMateus huffs and rises to his feet shakily. "It's done. Stars, it's dead." Interesting choice of words for a machine.
L'maadja SheccaBalmung dusts herself off. "Managed to pull that off nicely."

(Castor ArendtMateus) The spoils all around await only loading onto the shuttle - and the notebook (B) might catch notice, as well.
Gair Brandt slumps back and falls onto his rear, his weapon left imbedded in the biotechnical horror. "I need...a drink, or ten."

Castor ArendtMateus: "No shite. Bloody monstrosity, that was."

Maximilian AndersonBalmung: "Make that twenty drinks."

Lucas NevinBalmung doesn't seem interested in snappy debriefings. He goes straight for the bounty, grabbing what he can at (B). Including the notebook.

Robyn LannerBalmung slowly, wincingly, pushes himself back up to his feet, and after sheathing his weapon clutches at his arm. "Ugh... We're all okay, right?"

Castor ArendtMateus: "Take stock, you lot. Any broken bones? Any slashes?"

L'maadja SheccaBalmung goes about the cave. Looking at various odds and ends that catch her eye. Pocketing some small things into her seemingly bottomless pouches. "I'm alright."

Maximilian AndersonBalmung rises up to his feet, reaching over to the blade that was on the ground and sliding it back into his scabbard. "I'll get treated after we return."

Castor ArendtMateus: "... If you're sure. No one's getting gangrene on my watch."

Castor ArendtMateus ambles over on shaky legs to begin loading up on stolen magitek, Allagan and Garlean alike.

Gair Brandt looks to his left arm, a streak of crimson trickles onto his armor. Definitely favoring his right to push himself to a stand with.

Lucas NevinBalmung takes some time to read through the notebook before returning to the group. "We need to grab what we can -- we can bring a shuttle to grab the rest, right?" He looks to Castor.

Castor ArendtMateus: "Aye. What did that say?" He glances down at the booklet.

Gair Brandt: "Nothin' broken but my ego, the cut will heal."

Lucas NevinBalmung: "It's in Garlean."

Castor ArendtMateus: "And?"

Lucas NevinBalmung passes the book to Castor.

Robyn LannerBalmung has a bloodied arm from his fall, but nothing seems broken. Pretty good, all considered.
Lucas NevinBalmung: "I don't know; find someone who speaks Garlean."

Castor ArendtMateus takes the book, giving it an intent read. "... came here on a craft of some sort, the Actuator. Under the command of - lux Tuli, an architechtus. Searching for something called a 'shipmind.'" He shakes his head. "It could be bloody code. Come on, let's wrap up."

Castor ArendtMateus: "Those of you fit to carry, carry. If not, get the ship ready. I want off this rock."

(Castor ArendtMateus) [Something is happening!] <se.6> <se.1>
(Castor ArendtMateus) Things are strangely silent as the party transfers their bounty in magitek to the waiting shuttle. For once, it feels as though the wind has stopped; as though the whole Sea is holding its breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.  It is not until the last of the salvage has been loaded and Castor is firing up the engines that the sense of this dread becomes clear. Maximilian and Maadja spot it first - a small black shape, growing steadily larger as it cuts through the endless grey.
(Castor ArendtMateus) By the time the launch sequence has completed, it is obvious. A Garlean cruiser, state of the art, and easily four times the size of the party’s shuttle. Castor is quick to pilot the ship to the cover of a nearby island chain - close enough to observe a garlean squad deploy from the enemy craft, scour the island, and retreat to the ship once more.
(Castor ArendtMateus) hrough the half bell it takes for this process to complete, each of the party members has the unmistakable nervous feeling of being watched. Emblazoned on the ship’s side in proud Garlean script is its name - the Actuator.
(Castor ArendtMateus) That is where we're going to close Tomb Raided! Given everyone's exceptional performance, I'm happy to say that the quest has been completed successfully!