Log: Checking on Supply Lines
Wed Jan 28 19:19:20 2009
Beatrice comes posting into camp from along the supply lines. Her owl soaring above and a bit ahead of her.
--[ Along the Ghenesh pathway(#3014RJ) ]---------------------[ Somewhere ]----
Snowy weather in a forest.
Clustered here are Aryn, Meric, and Sadie and Beatrice and Robin. Also
here are Kirie and Raine.
--[ setting, places ]--------------------------------------[ Exits: None ]----
Kirie sits near the fire, watching Raine with clear curiosity. Her face is otherwise hard to read. Maybe eager for a challenge, maybe amused that their group seems to have a pet giant. For now, she just watches.
Beatrice comes posting into camp from along the supply lines. Her owl soaring above and a bit ahead of her.
Aryn sits very quietly near Meric. She is subdued, or still conserving her strength.
Meric is drinking saki nearby Aryn. He seems calm enough.
Sadie is standing with her back to the fire, watching the darkness.
Raine hulks by the fire, allowing himself to get lost in the dancing flames.
Robin, pulling a long fur-trimmed red cloak around herself, crosses over to warm herself by the fire for a few moments. "My lady; my lady; my lords," she murmursin greeting.
Sadie says, "Mistress Robin, good eve."
Beatrice dismounts and hands off her horse to a groom, heading over to the fire herself. "Good evening, Miranda, Aryn, Meric, and Kirie, here's a pleasant surprise." She nods to the others she does not know. Up close, she looks weary.
Kirie bows her head politely to Beatrice, but says nothing. Instead she hugs her knees to her chest and watches Raine out the corner of her eye.
"Dame Beatrice," Meric says by way of greating before he goes back to drinking his sake in small sips.
Raine lifts his head to the new arrival but stays quiet himself.
"Very pleasant, Dame Beatrice," Robin remarks, with a quick dip of her head. "Is all well?"
Beatrice is brought a message from her batman as she's just warming her hands. Lifts her brows at it. "Mm, perhaps not. It seems there's a lack of answer from one of our supply stations along the route home to answer. May just be a signal fire out in the cold but..." she shrugs. Very possibly not. By now her owl has swooped down to land upon her arm. "I don't suppose any of you are fresh enough to volunteer to go back and have a look?"
Meric sets his bowl to the side and stands, stretching his stiff arm. "I'll go."
Beatrice clearly was hoping for this answer from Meric, and looks grateful.
Robin says, slightly surprised, "Of course. Shall I fetch horses, or is the distance not so far as to require them?"
Beatrice mmms, and finds a small map under her cloak. "It's actually the second-nearest station, but you'll reach it much faster on horseback..." she shoes the map to Meric. "The supply line has several station where the wagons can stop to change for fresh horses as needed. This one is back about four miles, where our camp was yesterday."
Sadie moves to stand next to Meric.
Meric examines the map as Beatrice shows him where the station is. "So there should be men there and fresh horses. Who's in charge there?" He looks over to Robin and shakes his head. "I will run it on all fours so I don't need a horse."
"Very good, my lord," Robin says, with a nod. "One less, then."
Raine watches the group, "Will go as well. No horse needed."
Beatrice mms, "A Corporal Jess, if memory serves. Dependable fellow. All part of the chain of command. They're," she nods, "Aware of the problem and sending their own scouts back, but I suspect you'll get there ahead of them. Our supply lines are more-than-usually sensitive here due to the nature of the terrain -- which is to say, everything unfamiliar is a possible source of plague."
Kirie shifts her gaze from Raine to Beatrice and lifts a hand, "I will go, if I will not be a burden. I do not need a horse, either."
Beatrice's 'They' encomapasses the regularly military types. Benedict is probably too busy to take notice of this; possibly he's asleep.
Beatrice says, "I'll be taking some Sunriders and traveling along more slowly and checking on the station nearest to us to make sure there is not some problem there as well, but I'll try to catch up with you."
Meric nods and looks at the rest of those gathered. "Fine fighting group if I do say so myself. If there's any trouble we'll have it dealt with by the time you arrive." He looks back to Beatrice. "Corporal Jess. Understood."
Robin keeps track of each non-horse requiring volunteer, which, it would appear, covers nearly everyone /except/ her. Well and good. She starts to ask a question, but, upon Meric's remark, subsides again, evidently satisfied that he's covered the matter.
Beatrice nods, "If you see him, tell him 'Terpsichore' and he'll know I sent you down. Recall I have no official standing, but have been advising the lines. Off with you all! I have to reprovision and will set out directly."
Sadie shifts. One moment she's there, another, there's a big bag wolf with a large ruff.
Meric shifts himself and is thus standing a large gray wolf with his scar still plainly evident on his face. "Everyone ready to go?" he questions in a rough, growling voice as he looks amongst the group.
"A moment, my lord," Robin says, and makes haste to fetch a mount. Fortunately, her horse has been tethered nearby, and she's able to make quick work of retrieving it. The campaign has still not made an equestrian of her, but at least she's growing less obviously uncomfortable in the saddle.
Raine looks to Sadie and then Meric. Sme disgruntled thought washes over his face as he falls forward to land on his front paws. A silver wolf standing near as tall as a horse.
The night is dark, the moon is bright. The winds blow but not too strong, and there are no clouds, and consequently no snow.
Aryn shifts to wolf also.
Meric waits until Robin is mounted, watching her until she is and then looks back to the others. "Well, the sooner we go, the sooner we get back." And with that, he takes off at a run, weaving through camp and out of it.
Kirie looks over the assortment of Weirs, including the largest wolf she's ever seen. Her face is unreadable as she folds her hands in her sleeves and glances about to see if she is the only one going who is /not/ covered in fur.
Sadie takes out off after Meric.
The group runs along at a nice fast clip, now snow seems to bother the running wolves or the horse. Or Kirie for that matter. They make good time in getting to their destination and don't slow until there's just shy of the supply depot.
They are likely very near where the station should be, but there is no sign of the fire in the dark. However, the faint scents come to those with keen senses of a not-too-distant char up ahead, in a low point amongst the lightly forested hills. Also up ahead, but a bit more distant so not yet overwhelming, are the scents of the remains of the great battlefield of yesterday.
Sadie growls.
Meric echoes Sadie with a growl as he smells the scent of char and soot. "Bad news ahead," he says as he keeps leading them on at a considerably slower pace than the run. Best to err on the side of caution.
Raine however is silent and still, blending into the snow. Alert amber eyes dancing over the darkness ahead.
"Indeed, my lord?" Robin says -- keeping her voice low, of course, but just enough to be heard. She, of course, hasn't the same sense of smell as the Weir, but even she can discern the absence of fire.
Kirie keeps near Robin, if only to remind herself that she's not running with a wolf pack. And run she does, showing no trouble keeping pace with the rest of the group even though she's on foot. One hand remains tucked under her robe and the other rests on the hilt of her machete.
Sadie slinks along, a shadow on the snow.
From the rise above where the camp should be, the tent can be seen, cleanly visible. There are horses nervously pawing the ground. The campfire has been extinguished, but the light of the waning moon and the snow-brilliant stars illuminates the men in the dress of the Amber military huddled together. One is attempting to re-kindle the fire. Perhaps it is as simple as that.
There may be movement inside the tent -- it is hard to tell.
Meric comes trotting along with the others, though he seems edgy as he draws near and stops a few feet away. "Corporal Jess?" he calls to the group trying to restart the fire, eyes glancing to the horses due to their nervousness.
Robin brings her horse to a halt as they approach the camp, dropping down into the snow and quickly finding a place to tether it. Thereafter she follows along after the Argus, loosening her blade in its sheath, and glancing back and forth to either side into the darkness.
As one, the faces of the dozen or so military men down at the supply station turn their gazes up to the rise where Meric and the others are.
Raine has shifted back to two legs, bringing up the rear of the group.
(Sadie had to go)
None of the men answer the call for a 'Jess', not yet. Perhaps they are stunned by the appearance of the Weir?
There is, however, one lanky fellow wearing a corporal's insignia
Meric looks towards the others a moment. "Raine move out to the right a bit just in case. Kirie to the left." He shifts back to human form so he has access to his weapons. "Corporal Jess?" he questions as his eyes settle on the one wearing the Corporals outfit.
Kirie nods sharply to Meric and slips off to the left, keeping low and quiet with her hand on her sword's hilt.
All twelve men continue to stare at the approaching party with the same expression on their faces. Is that a whisper of noise from inside the tent? Finally the one in the corporal's uniform nods, once. "Well met," he says finally.
Robin, unbidden, moves to back up Meric, although she keeps far enough back from him that there is no risk of her being caught by a suddenly-drawn weapon. Her eyes flick from face to face.
Raine snarls a growl at Meric, perhaps that is the polite weir way of saying 'no.'. However he does leave the rear to take up a stance at the front.
Meric decides to do things a little differently. "There's something wrong here," he whispers to the group with him. "Corporal, there's a command word that you know from Dame Beatrice. What is it?" His eyes flick to Raine, but now is no time for petty squabbles.
Keen senses reveal there is DEFINITELY someone in the tent. Hissing something at the men. Doesn't exactly smell like them, either.
There is a hiss from inside the tent; words whispered? An urging-on. A moment later the one in the corporal's uniform answers, "Not... regulation. Not to tell... for you to tell." Then, "Have some tea."
Meric considers for a moment. "Aryn, see if you can sneak around the outside where they can't see you and check out the tent, would you?" His voice is low so it doesn't carry to the 'soldiers.' "No, see, that's not how it works. You give me the word so I know you're who you say you are." His hand is slowly inching up to his shoulder and the hilt of his sword.
The words directed at the 'soldiers' are considerably louder than those spoken to Aryn.
Aryn creeps around the outside of the tent, a low, dark gray shadow.
The corporal's reply is all the prompting Robin requires for further suspicion. She takes several careful steps out toward the right-hand side of the group. Starlight glitters coldly on the crystal-encrusted shield.
Raine rumbles, "Hell with this. Lets just kill them all." His fingers curling to crack knuckles, as he lumbers toward the man.
To Aryn: 'The person(s) inside smells Gheneshi.'.
"Amber military," the corporal says, slowly and evenly.
Aryn creeps back toward Meric, passing him a few whispered words.
You paged Aryn with 'the voice inside the tent, male, low, warns: Prepare to defend yourselves. Make no further moves.'.
A hiss from inside the tent, and the soldiers make to rattle their weapons a bit.
Meric growls at Raine. "Stop it, Raine." But then he listens to Aryn's words and nods. "I thought so." He draws his sword. "Aryn and Robin, think you can take the tent?" He starts forward and moves to Raine's side now. "Kirie you've got the flank."
To Aryn: 'Inside the tent the person said: Jess -- Have some tea. Put your swords down and drink with us.'.
All twelve men move as if by instinct to protect the tent. They are a lot closer to it than the others. But the corporal repeats, reasonably but still evenly and slowly, "Have some tea. Put your swords down and drink with us."
Kirie quietly draws her machete, though the silver blade flashes in the moonlight. With a quick motion she reverses her grip on it and holds it backward. To Meric, she murmurs, "I am a slayer of beasts, not of men. You had best be sure of this before you ask me to kill Amber's soldiers."
Aryn rumbles, very low, "What, tear it down over their heads?" She creeps back and listens at the tent, then comes back to whisper, "Meric, whoever or whatever is inside, is telling the man outside what to say to us."
"Listen to him, Kirie. What kind of officer would offer tea to someone he doesn't know? Besides, there are Gheneshi in the tent whispering commands," Meric answers over to Kirie. "Good work, Aryn. Stick close. You're right about the fighting."
Robin's blade comes out of its scabbard with the faint scrape of metal against metal. "An' it be necessary, my lord Argus, you may consider the tent to be dealt with. It may be, however, that they suspect /us/ of being plaguebearers. Ought we not to at least offer the countersign?"
Aryn whispers to Meric, "If that water for the tea came from a contaminated well....it is the last thing we should drink."
"Terpsichore," Meric offers out towards the wood be soldiers, just to satisfy Robin's qualms. "Still, offering tea to someone you don't know and listening to a Gheneshi pretty much says they aren't who they should be." He continues forward at a slow enough clip, sword ready.
Raine is walking toward the corporal with malicious intent. Rumbling a deep growl, his fingers curled like claws. Under the moon he looks more like a monster than a man, the wolf within him hungry for blood.
"Terpsichore," Jess answers, slowly. Evenly. "Have some tea."
Kirie remains with her blade at the ready but apprehension clear in her eyes and stance. "We must be sure. My lady will be displeased with us if she sends us out to check on an outpost and we destroy it."
The twelve soldiers, Jess included, present arms when Reine approaches.
Aryn whispers, "Meric. Meric. Didn't they say.....the disease makes people passive and...likely to follow orders blindly?"
Aryn whispers, "At the briefing today. Didn't they say that? We shouldn't even stand here. They might cough or...sneeze on us."
"Stop!" Meric says as he reaches out towards Raine and attempts to grab ahold of him. "Stop! Aryn's right! Don't touch the tea, but don't kill the soldiers. Back away."
Robin nods, at that. She raises her sword slightly, sidestepping forward toward the tent. "Dame Beatrice did indeed so remark," she says. "A 'herd mentality', I believe were her words."
Aryn's teeth show in a silent snarl, vividly and unexpectedly bright in the darkness of her form.
The twelve soldiers are still presenting arms -- pole arms, knives, a sword or two.
At that point all those with exceptional hearing can hear the low voice hissing at them from inside the tent, "Go on with lighting the fire."
All twelve put their weapons away and go on trying to re-light the fire.
Raine turns on Meric as if he were the enemy or a threat. Knocking the man's hand from his shoulder with a powerful swing of his arm, "Don't." Raine warns, with a growl. But Meric has succeeded in keeping the soldiers safe from the monster, for the moment.
Aryn whispers to the others near her, "Fire the tent. I can do it, if you will give me flint. Burn it at the edge. Drive the controller out. I don't think the men here will fight, but if they do, order them to fight that thing. Maybe they will obey."
Around then, the keen of hearing will pick out the very distant sounds of an approaching caravan. More soldiers of Amber will soon be here, to change horses, to perhaps stop for tea.
Meric growls at Raine and moves to put himself between Raine and the soldiers as he looks to Aryn and nods. "Do it." He glances to the soldiers, but he's not making threats to them now and they're busy with the fire. Still, he keeps eyeing them and the tent. He hears the sound of the approach. "Quickly. Someone needs to flag down that caravan and get them to wait."
Robin takes another step, and another, and another -- by now she is well out from the right flank of the group, circling around toward the tent. If some of the soldiers choose to face her, well and good. If none of them do, all the better.
"STOP THEM," comes the voice from inside the tent, and as one the soldiers turn from the fire they've just lit to Aryn. As one they advance on her.
Kirie watches the battle beginning to unfold with growing distaste, "I will see to the caravan." Her machete returns to its scabbard and she darts off in the direction of the travelers without waiting for Meric's leave.
"Remember the call sign!" Meric yells after Kirie. Before he watches the soldiers. "Robin, Aryn, keep drawing them towards you but don't get too close."
Aryn darts around the soldiers, and tries to grab a flaming brand in her jaws, and flee with it toward the oh-so-flammable canvas tent.
Aryn darts around the soldiers, and tries to grab a flaming brand in her jaws, and flee with it toward the oh-so-flammable canvas tent.
Robin has to make a quick decision, and so she makes the obvious one, rushing in toward the soldiers, shield up, in an attempt to interpose herself between their weapons and Aryn. Better for metal to be poked at than flesh, even quick-healing Weir flesh! "We must take them alive!" she calls out; "they are ill, not enemies!"
Meric waits till the soldiers are past and towards Robin and Aryn and then positions himself towards the mouth of the tent. Should Aryn succeed in setting it alight and driving the Gheneshi out, he'll be waiting.
It is at this point that chaos breaks out -- twelve soldiers acting as one to fall on Aryn and stop her from setting the fire to the tent. Which means there are twelve men, Aryn, Meric, Raine, and fire all on top of one another in a fight! And the figure inside the tent appears....
Out on the road, Kirie is able to spot the approaching wagon in the distance, coming up the open land near where the camp was, along the shadowpath.
Aryn is hell on wheels in a fight with humans, whatever she may be with wolves. So much for silence: her snarl is high-pitched, half hysterical, utterly feral. She's biting all around her with a chomp-chomp-chomp, and the tent is burning a little faster every second, and some of what's burning smells like hair or fur.
RPG: Meric challenges a difficulty of 10, using his Force plus PHY-ST SKL-AR. Meric almost succeeds.
RPG: Raine challenges a difficulty of 11, using his Resolve plus SKL-MA. Raine succeeds.
RPG: Robin challenges a difficulty of 11, using her Wits plus BLD-PT BLD-OB. Robin succeeds.
Meric gets trampled by the soldiers but somehow manages to free himself from the cluster by scampering backwards. He does, however, look quite beaten up and it seems he got somehow burned by the flames. Right on the arm. Now he's got to figure out where he dropped his sword.
RPG: Aryn challenges a difficulty of 9, using her Force plus BLD-WE. Aryn fails.
Kirie heads right for the caravan, staying out in the open so they see her coming. Last thing she wants to do is make them all nervous and stabby. As she gets closer she lifts an empty hand.
It is then that the figure inside the tent bursts forth. Flames are licking at the canvas of the tent, though not catching too quickly, but there is a knife-slice and the side opens near the flames. A powerful hand from a cloaked figure reaches out and SNATCHES Aryn inside... it's possible she's dragged across or through the fire so it may scorch her.
Meanwhile, there are twelve soldiers of Amber, almost certainly infected by the plague, putting up a pretty good fight outside the tent. Between Raine and Robin, each has six to deal with, as Meric is busy trying to regroup.
The caravan slows for Kirie, the wagoneer calling, "Who goes there?"
Being big has its advantages and so when the soldiers try to roll over him. They find it not as easy despite thier numbers. The monster of a man, lashing out with fist, feet, and headbutts. "Aryn!" He curses, damning the weir for getting snatched, inspires him to wade towards the tent.
Aryn can be heard inside the tent now, snarling and presumably fighting hard.
Meric finds his sword after a bit and looks away from the soldiers just in time to see Aryn get snatched. Now, snatching someone's friend doesn't ever go well. Meric charges towards the tent and, if there's a path available, also makes his way towards the tent.
To Aryn: 'You can't quite see your captor, but he is strong and adept at pinning a creature such as yourself. He is trying to keep you down with one arm, grunting, and trying to pour water over your muzzle, probably hoping you will drink -- or perhaps stop trying to bite him in the need to keep your snout shut to avoid the same. It smells a bit foul.'.
Aryn puts up a very fine fight. She never surrenders, even if she never gets a bite in. And if she struggles enough, he won't be able to get the water in her mouth.
The soldiers have several things to worry about: snarling Weir and an enormous mountain of a man. A slightly built youth in fancy armor does not register quite so high on the threat meter, and so the soldiers perhaps may not take Robin as seriously as they ought. This does not end well for them. She ducks under a sword-thrust, brains the weapon's wielder with the pommel of her own blade; whacks a second man aside with her shield, and kicks a third in a place that even the plagued are likely to find debilitating. No permanent damage is done, but none of the soldiers is likely to be troublesome for a while.
Inside the supply tent, a large, cloaked man has Aryn pinned, and is pouring water over her muzzle. There are a very few crates here and a lot of firewood and some bedrolls and spare weapons. It is a tent large enough to sleep six men at a time plus the few stores.
Kirie holds out her hands, showing that she bears no weapon. "I am Magabarai Kirie of Jade. I am here on behalf of Amber, sent here to learn of the plague. The outpost up ahead, it has been infected... My allies are fighting there now." A quick glance over her shoulder, back toward the carnage. "Ahh... What was that..." Turpentine? Harpsichord? "Ahhh... Terpsichore?"
No little girl dancing around is going to out score Raine when it comes to taking down plague infected soldiers. Crack! Pow! Two more fly into the dirt to sleep and will awake with terrible headaches. Grabbing a third by the throat and lifting him up to the Wier's eye level, he considers the morcel of meat before him and tosses him aside. Focesed now on the tent.
Aryn's struggling sounds muffled now. Throttled.
The wagon pulls up short. They've spotted the fire of the rest-stop. They stop to talk to Kirie....
Meric finds his way to the tent, by virtue of getting steamrolled in the initial charge. He looks around, spots the cloaked figure over Aryn, lets out a yell and charges right at the Gheneshi, sword up and ready since he found it.
Robin's path through the plagued soldiers, alas, is quickly slowed. Infected they may be, but these are still Amber soldiers, and their error in underestimating the red-armored Robin is rapidly seen and corrected for. Then, too, there is the fact that /she/ is trying her best to avoid doing them any real harm, whereas they may not operate under the same compunctions. And three-to-one in that situation is poor odds. Fortunately, she appears capable of holding them off for the nonce, if, perhaps, at the cost of some injury to herself.
The Gheneshi keeps a boot on Aryn, whose muzzle is now drenched with foul-scented water, and turns with a roar to block Meric with a great staff. He's surprisingly strong, but not super-humanly so. There is a flash of feathers from inside his cloak, an impression of dark hair and the angry eyes gleaming with fury. But by this time Robin and Raine are breaking through the line of soldiers and getting to the tent as well...
Aryn coughs, sputters and squirms. When the Gheneshi's attention is turned away, she tries to twist and chomp her teeth into his ankle!
Meric pushes against the staff that the Gheneshi is blocking him with. He's using as much strength as he can muster and his face plainly shows he's angry. Still, it's difficult and he can't get in another blow. "Raine!!"
The cloaked figure's boot comes down HARD on Aryn -- gets her a good one in the head. This doesn't lesson his ability to hold Meric off with his staff just yet, but he's not yet figuring for Raine and Robin breaking through the still-struggling soldiers outside.
Raine snarls, hearing Meric call for backup. The last soldier in his path is delt harshly. Grabing the man's head and twisting til a distinct crack can be heard and the body slumps to the giant's feet. The thrill of defeating his enemies leaves him planting a foot on the dead soldier and sounding a horror of a challenging howl aimed for the cloaked figure and advances to the cloaked figure!
Aryn is still now. Very still. And a convenient tripping hazard.
The cloaked figure has knocked Aryn unconscious, or at least dazed, and is pushing against Meric with deadly ferocity. He's also kicking the bucket of foul water in his direction....
Careful positioning, feints ... and then all of sudden Robin's defensive posture is no longer quite so defensive. Having lured one soldier just a little too close to another, she shoves the nearer with an unnatural strength for someone of her size, sending both him and his compatriot sprawling. In a moment they'll be back on their feet, but in that time Robin has ducked past the second -- whose weapon jabs into a weak point in the red armor as she passes -- and in to face the Gheneshi. "It would be advisable," she states, rather cheerful, "for you to surrender, and perhaps you may be treated with leniency."
Meric is right up in the Gheneshi's face as the two continue their stalemate. He does what he can to avoid the water, too. Still, he's waiting on help.
Another bucket! This one was resting on a crate, and the cloaked man sends it hurtling with his staff right at Meric. But this is the opponent he's facing down primarily, perhaps trusting that Meric and the fallen Aryn will keep the others at a little distance...
Meric ducks at the last second, but unfortunately is knocked off balance from the pressure. He flails backwards, leaving Raine and Robin open to attack.
Raine barrels into the cloaked figure perhaps forgeting that he is in the form of a man. For he snaps with his teeth and claw the figure with his hands. The man may have lost his mind as the animal within takes over.
Even over the din of combat, the thundering of hooves and wheels start to fade in until the strength of the horses can be felt reverberating through the very ground. A large drawn wagon flanked by two heavily armed cavalrymen storm into the outpost, followed by nearly two dozen footsoldiers. They flood in to the fray and start to do battle with their plague-stricken brethren, though more than a few hesitate, looking between the sick soldiers and the monstrous Weir.
Fortunately for the arriving 'cavalry', their brethren have been mostly knocked silly by Robin and Raine. So it is a question of getting infected/sick/semi-conscious men disarmed and penned up, and getting the fire under control. This happens outside while Raine and Robin and Meric deal with the cloaked man inside the tent...
Kirie wanders on over shortly after the reinforcements have arrived, just about the time they're getting everything back under control. Hands folded neatly in her sleeves, head slightly bowed, she looks over the chaos and calculates the chances she and the others will be executed for treason or some such fun.
Robin hesitates, watching the cloaked man and his gigantic assailant struggle. To strike the one without hitting the other -- a difficult challenge. And so she elects, instead, to lunge forward in a feinted overhand strike at the man's skull. If it distracts him, perhaps Raine will have a better chance; if not, she can reach him at close-quarters, sword or no.
For a monster, there is nothing more satsifying than feeling the flesh of your enemy tear or the sounds of bones breaking beneath its strength. So it is for Raine as he holds onto the cloaked figure. Turning the thing into an easy target for Robin's blade.
Blood gurgling from his mouth, the Cloaked Man tries one, last desperate attempt before the killing-blow comes. He spits -- aimed for Robin or Raine, he cares not.
Robin didn't expect the strike to actually /land/. Only her surprise at its doing so, perhaps, keeps her from jerking back into the path of the cloaked man's spittle. "Seven Ancestors," she curses. "I wanted him alive."
Somewhere in this melee, when the Cloaked Man is distracted (to say the least) by Raine and Robin, Meric darts in and drags the quiescent Aryn into his arms and then out of the burning tent, into the darkness.
Outside, with Kirie and the infected soldiers and the healthy soldiers, good as her word, Beatrice finally arrives from checking on the other station.
Kirie bows to Beatrice as she approaches, "My lady." Without further comment or any offer of explanation, she stands aside to let the woman take control of the situation.
Aryn remains limp in Meric's arms. This is beginning to look like the sort of habit best broken quickly. Meric doesn't seem to quite know what to do, so he waits.
~
The part about the hilarity was tongue-in-cheek. It's scout-and-smash. No armies were harmed in the making of this log. (er, I GMed, which is why I wasn't in most of it. Also: Sadie wasn't here, really, per Sadie.)