The atmosphere has been tense in both cities ever since the new batch of refugees were shot down out of the sky. Natives and refugees alike will note that things are steadily growing worse and worse... until suddenly, the tension snaps. Chaos erupts on one seemingly ordinary night and will continue until early March, when it all comes to a head. The question is, as always... what will you do?
You may submit an AC-eligible thread set in either Olympia or Wyver for 1 OLYMPIA REP POINT OR 1 WYVER REP POINT respectively, HERE or HERE, so long as the thread involves your character complying with their faction of choice's goals and responsibilities.
As a note, faction compliance in this case refers to actions that benefit the faction in the long term. Meaning that while citizens might be revolting against one another temporarily, assisting their fellow people and business will be considered as faction compliance for the purposes of submitting REP. (For example, raiding the palace in Olympia would earn 1 Wyver REP, whereas helping put out the fires in the palace would earn 1 Olympia REP.)
You may write threads and prompts in both cities, but ICly, they should take place on different days.
Please also note that travel between factions is heavily scrutinized during the events of this log. If your character travels between cities, please report it here. EMBERS IN OUR BLOODLINES
CHAOS ERUPTS. The city hasn't been exactly peaceful for some time — discontented grumbles have been directed at anyone who exhibits even the slightest amount of pro-Wyver (anti-Olympian) sentiment — but now, the tensions have not simply worsened: they've outright snapped.
It wouldn't be unusual to start your day to the sound of breaking glass. Perhaps it's a neighbor's window, or if you're truly unlucky, it's your own. Regardless, it's clear that there are a number of people who decide that violence is the answer. Well-armed shops such as The Sharper are left alone, but The Silk Wyrms, The Wyvernest, and other smaller businesses aren't so lucky. Visit the tailor, and you'll find that someone has broken in and slashed many of the in-progress custom orders; at the dragon cafe, someone has set many of the miniature dragons loose in a bid to purge the city of anything tainted by Wyver's influence. Many shopkeeps are fearful that the culprits might return. They're offering good silver for anyone who will retrieve stolen goods, round up the missing dragons, or find proof of who the culprits were — and for protection in case the culprits return. Linger, and you'll be in a position to potentially stop a repeat attack when the rioters come back with torches and bricks.
Members of the Royal Guard have their hands full with the fights breaking out to attend to every instance of violence against the businesses. Shouting in the squares escalates into bloody brawls — and if you spend any time outside, you'll soon see why. There's a strange mist in the most populated parts of the city, which you may recognize as having similar effects to the waters of Flona Cove that lower one's inhibitions. It spurs those who would usually agree to disagree into shouting matches, and influences people who would normally shout into throwing punches. Members of the Guard, usually a mediating force, are joining the fray themselves.
Even you aren't immune to the mist's effects. Whether you're protecting your home or place of employment, chasing down vandals, rounding up escaped dragons from the dragon cafes, or even just observing what's going on with someone else, you're likely doing it much more aggressively than you typically would... but then, this level of aggression seems to be becoming Olympia's new normal.
SINNERS TO PLAY AS SAINTS. The theaters are miraculously untouched, but The Life and Death of Nithor the Exalted is no longer being put on. Instead, passers-by are being pulled onstage to play out other scenes from Olympia's glorious history. Those who don't want to play along don't have much of a choice; those orchestrating the scenes have people out in the crowds to bring people up by force if necessary.
The base scenario is simple enough: the noble Olympian puts the pathetic Wyvern in their place. Perhaps it's a fight scene: the Olympian comes out on top, of course, and the crowd roars for blood. Wyver weapons are only props, however, but the Olympian weapons? They're very, very real. Or perhaps it's a callback to when the Olympian people marked captured Wyverns with brands to assert their dominance — there is real fire, and real brands, on stage.
If you pass as Olympian, you may be pressed to perform. If you don't want to really hurt someone, you'd best learn how to fake it — refuse to play your part, and the crowd will very quickly turn against you. If you're too obviously not Olympian, or if they recognize you as someone who went off-script last time (and they have very good memory), you'll likely be pressed into the role of an unfortunate Wyvern. Hopefully your co-star is gentle...
Break a leg. Literally, as the case may be.
CRITICAL CONDITION. With all the chaos, it's only a matter of time before people start to seek medical attention. However, along the way to The Sanctuary, they'll be faced with an almost insurmountable barricade. It isn't immediately obvious who put it up, but it's clear that nobody will be getting through it without significant effort.
Approach, and a voice will ring out warning you to keep back. It's one of the employees at the clinic; she has a crossbow in her shaking hands, and if pressed, she'll admit that they put up the barricade to keep out rioters. She understands that there are people who need their help, but the decision was made to keep themselves and their supplies safe so that when the dust settles, they can set out en masse and help more people than they could if they were raided.
If you're accompanied by someone with grievous injuries, or if you're terribly injured yourself, you may be able to convince her to let you in for a quick patch-up, but they're not giving any medicines out. If you need more supplies, you'll have to figure out another way of getting it — either by overpowering the woman on watch and raiding the clinic yourself, or distracting her so that other members of your group can sneak in and take what they need.
Making matters worse is the gigantic vulture-like creature, much larger than the birds in Murkwell Hollow... and much meaner. This beast doesn't wait for eye contact before it attacks: it swoops down out of the sky when people are gathered at the barricade, snatching up anyone it can grab in its talons, fixing on whoever's closest. However, if someone who killed a vulture is present, it pursues them with relentless determination. If not dealt with, it will attempt to eat the dead and the injured without discrimination. It can be driven off with high difficulty using weapons, magical abilities (except fire, which doesn't affect it), and the terrain to your advantage. It will retreat before it can be killed, presumably so that it can regroup and harry the next batch of people to get close to the barricade.
As it retreats it will drop feathers that can be sold to the Institute for study for 100 silver; one feather per character, please. Sales can be reported here.
PALACE BURNS. Chaos reigns for the better part of a week, and toward the end, it escalates past the point of rioting in the streets — the violence reaches Empress Simwe's palace. In the gardens where Olympians and refugees alike had lit lanterns in unity and remembrance mere weeks before, one careless (or perhaps not so careless) flame catches, spreading to the rest of the grounds and to one of the palace walls. The members of the Royal Guard, already stretched thin, are too preoccupied with trying to contain the blaze to stop anyone from pouring in through the breach.
It's an opportunity that looters and dissidents do not pass up.
Follow them in, and you'll find the elegant surroundings being torn apart. Many of the rioters are those who have it out for Simwe and are hunting for her. As she's nowhere to be found, they settle for the next best thing: setting torch to her portraits. Portraits of the late emperor, on the other hand, are left untouched. The vandals are incredibly vocal in their displeasure with Simwe's policies, and almost fanatical in their opinion that life in Olympia would be much better if Simwe had perished in her husband's place. They turn to violence when the frightened maids and other servants don't have the answers they want as they leave a trail of fire in their wake. Will you use them as a smokescreen for your own venture, or will you intervene?
Further inside, the sticky-fingered will find furnishings, clothing, jewelry — anything that isn't bolted down is fair game. In the library, the gilded titles of priceless books glitter on the shelves; in the wine cellar, Simwe's personal collection of extremely fine vintages waits to be sampled; a mirrored room furnished entirely with pillows is draped in lacy underthings; fragrant salts and bottles of perfume sit in a steam-filled bathing room; in the treasury, looters are hard at work squirrelling away silver and carrying off golden baubles. Nobody looks too closely at anyone's face unless given a reason to, but in the morning, heads will certainly roll. You could make off with your own treasure from the palace with none the wiser, or you could stop one of the looters — maybe it's even a fellow refugee — and turn them in to the guard to help restore some order to this night of chaos.
In the depths of the treasury, there is a group trying to get past a sealed door. They're an unpleasant, volatile lot, and they make a lot of noise about how if they can just get their hands on the heart of the legendary dragon, they'll be able to wipe Wyver from the map once and for all and put someone competent on the throne. After multiple failed attempts, they start offering a reward of 50 silver to anyone who makes an attempt at opening the door.
ABOUT THE DOOR: The inner treasury door is enchanted to stand up to all manner of assaults, both magical and physical. Any attempts to dispel the enchantment will fail, but characters are welcome to make attempts in exchange for cash. While minor force will be harmlessly absorbed by the shields on the door, anything of great strength will be reflected back at its point of origin — so be ready to dodge!
Whether you help the Guard put out the fire, steal from the palace, try and get past the enchanted door, or make attempts to stop the looters, your actions may have consequences later. Please report any significant actions you take here.
NOTE: Characters are welcome to steal a single minor, setting-appropriate item from the palace. Mod approval is not required. Any items of greater import in the palace are locked in a vault and inaccessible.
BLOOD ON MY HANDS LIKE THE BLOOD IN YOU
FOR GLORY. Meanwhile, in Wyver, the holiday celebrating Nithor's death may have finished, but the spirit is still high. The citizens, eagerly awaiting the results of the contest from earlier in the month, congregate at a large stadium in the East End on the morning of the 21st and encourage refugees to join them — not only will the contest winner be announced, but there will be a series of physical trials to select Wyver's best and brightest.
This yearly event is considered the true end to the holiday. They honor those who excel at the arts — whether they be standard arts or the art of combat — and with these trials, they will honor those who excel on the battlefield. King Shanrian himself speaks to kick off the festivities, holding a distinctly human skull in his hands the entire time he's in view.
 Everyone, join me in praising the winners of our citywide contest! I was, heh... quite delighted with the meat jelly dish submitted by citizens Clair and Frederick. Such creativity! Meanwhile, dear Shenya loved hearing the beautiful music provided by Diva and Tani Umenosuke. And as you all well know, his vote is my vote.
Now I speak to you on a more serious note: I encourage all of you to join the legacy of those who helped bring down the mad and oppressive Nithor. I ask you all to join the trials. Show the world that we are a people of honor. For we do not seek glory, but fairness, liberty, and truth. Citizens, do you have what it takes to represent your home?
Signing up is simple. Interested parties are to submit their name at the registration desk, and by high noon, the festivities will kick off in full.
First up is a tournament — to thin the numbers down and ensure that only the best of the best make it to the end, participants are matched to a fight until one side is incapacitated. The air is thick with excitement, and bouts continue all day and through the night. Vendors have set up temporary stalls to sell food, toiletries, pillows, and blankets for those who don't wish to miss even a moment of the action.
If you're participating, you will take part in three fights before the finalists are determined; if you are not, you will be free to watch from the audience or, if you're acquainted with people who are fighting, to go behind the scenes to assist them by bringing them water or medicine between matches or even just give them moral support. Either way, you'll notice a slight shift in the air as time goes by.
Midway through the preliminary matches, the atmosphere changes from enthusiastic to outright bloodthirsty. Observers who were content to see a knock out will call for blood. People will start to clamor for the losers to lose their lives, and audience members will find themselves itching for a fight. One wrong look and the fighting might not just be constrained to the ring.
Make it through to the finals, and your trial will be more focused on teamwork: after all, the assassins who took down Nithor had to work together to get their job done. Finalists are paired off to face a variety of beasts, some from Wyver, some from Olympia, and some from other, far-flung parts of the isles. There is no set number of winners — anyone who performs well will be honored with a prize of silver at the end — but the beasts are ferocious, and it will take coordination and exceptional skill to make it out unscathed.
Either way, it's sure to be a spectacle.
HEARTY DIETS. The city's atmosphere does not become peaceful with the conclusion of the trials. Wherever you turn, the people around you seem to be more combative than usual - and in this city, that can be quite the feat.
To mark the end of another successful set of trials, the shamans of the Altar of Volkkra make dragon's blood, which they partake in for one of their rituals, more widely available to the public. Most drink it straight, although there are some who take it mixed in with other drinks. Either way, the effects are the same:
Drinking dragon's blood will feel like drinking liquid fire. It will burn the entirety of its way down and leave you with a presence in your chest that you will carry with you for three days before wearing off. It is a warmth that seems to imbue you with the strength and confidence of the dead dragon. The adrenaline will minimize any great pains, and you will have the sense that the path you choose is right.
Unfortunately, there is a downside. The dragon blood will keep you restless until the effects wear off. Confidence will turn into mindless arrogance. If you and your companion both drink the blood, you will butt heads because you will believe the other is wrong. Additionally, you may experience the need to hoard. The shamans say it is a trial you must endure to learn not to overindulge, but to someone who has never drank before, the feeling will be overwhelming.
Dragon's blood isn't the only variety to partake in. This time of year, the blood of a variety of monsters can be found to drink; it's said that consuming a creature's blood will imbue you with that creature's power. Whether this is true or not remains to be seen — some insist it's a rumor, while others swear its veracity — but fueled by the confidence the dragon's blood has drawn out of them, the natives are very insistent that you try it out, and some may even challenge you to a blood-drinking contest.
There are some who say that they've managed to procure the blood of Olympians, and that ingesting it will sap the strength of the Olympian people and bestow it upon Wyver instead. Some Wyvern natives aren't willing to allow the blood of their most hated enemies past their lips and would instead use Olympian blood to paint out scenes of their destruction, either on the walls like the murals or on charms from the Altar of Volkkra, as it is said to have the same effect. If you're offered some of this "paint," it's probably better to accept. After all, refusal would be very un-Wyvernlike, and you wouldn't want to be marked as the next target for someone hoping to procure Olympian blood, would you?
FANNING FLAMES. Since the trials, natives have lit bonfires throughout the city as a way of showing support for their favorite contenders; the belief is that as long as the flames continue to be fed, the contender will continue to fight well. Even now that the trials are over, the flames burn bright. These contenders are Wyver's hope of victory over Olympia, after all; isn't it better to keep the fires ablaze until they've brought the Olympians to their knees?
But it isn't just wood that they're using for kindling. This time they want a more personal offering. Many of the natives will shed their own blood to throw into the fire, and still more roam the streets in search of people to feed to the flames. You might find yourself one of their targets if you've been too noticeably traveling between the cities on a regular basis, or if you've made the mistake of donning the Olympian colors of white and gold even in a subtle way. Perhaps you come off as a loyal citizen of Wyver, and they've tapped you to assist them with feeding a person to the flames — If you refuse, you might face scrutiny yourself.
Chaos is on the rise. It's a bastardization of celebration that has long since gotten out of hand, although few seem inclined to try and contain it. Those who do are mainly shouted down or silenced by other means, and if you're looking to assist them in quelling the unrest, you'll have to be subtle lest you wind up facing the citizens' ire.
Luckily, there is something to provide a distraction: a gigantic vulture-like creature, much larger than the birds from Murkwell Hollow, has come to hunt . When it descends, it makes to grab anyone with its talons, with one exception — if anyone who killed a vulture in Murkwell is nearby, it will ignore the others and focus its attempts on tearing them apart with a relentless, single-minded determination. If not driven off, the dead and the injured will become its next meal, and it has no qualms about diving into the flames to snatch up bodies, as it's unharmed by fire. It can be driven off with high difficulty using weapons, magical abilities (other than fire), and the terrain to your advantage, but will retreat before it can be killed so that it can regroup and make another attempt at snatching up bodies later.
As it retreats it will drop feathers that can be sold to the Altar of Volkkra for experimentation for 100 silver; one feather per character, please. Sales can be reported here.
BEASTLY EXHIBITS.The shamans of Volkkra, perhaps under the influence of dragon's blood, have their own way of dealing with the unrest. Throughout the week, those protesting the chaos start to vanish, and either from rumors or direct observation it will soon become obvious why: they're being brought to the main Altar of Volkkra, all the way up on Namarak Summit. If you have been attempting to calm people down, you might just find yourselves taken; otherwise, you can tail the shamans to the summit to find what's going on for yourself.
Those taken to the main altar are blindfolded and thrust into the labyrinthine halls without a flame to guide their way. Shamans guard the entrances and exits; inside, all light but that of the Eternal Flame have been extinguished. Other shamans, who take part in the rumored experiments, roam the halls with wicked-looking knives in search of new test subjects. If they come across you, you'll need to either fight or run.
It is possible to escape this, either by overpowering them or by using your wits. It's even possible to find your way to the entrance and fight your way past the shamans guarding it — but the when the first person sets foot out of the halls, the shamans call for backup. Menacing shrieks and roars sound from inside the mazelike halls, and strange, mishmashed creatures emerge from the darkness.
They're angry, and they're willing to lash out at both refugee and shaman alike.
ABOUT THE MONSTERS: They are amalgamations of people and creatures from all over the isles, and each one is different. One might have the head of a Duldrum, the torso and arms of a man, and the lower half of a Glowing Snake; another might look like a Wispurr with a second head of an Unlucky Cat grafted onto it, and the abilities to match. The shamans seem to have been mixing and matching the features and abilities of both named and unnamed creatures as they see fit, and they've whipped them up into a frenzy — these chimeras crave blood, and will not stop until their targets are dead, or they are.
They can be killed with medium difficulty using your own weapons, supplies from the Altar, and any abilities you might possess; survive, and the shamans will let you go with 200 silver as compensation, having decided that you've proven your worth and that your strength may be an asset to Wyver in the future. If your character successfully kills a chimera, please report it here.
An AC-eligible thread in which your character complies with their faction's goals for 1 REP POINT FOR EITHER OLYMPIA OR WYVER may be submitted from this log. SUBMIT THE THREAD FOR OLYMPIA OR WYVER HERE OR HERE RESPECTIVELY BY MARCH 14th 11:59 PM EST.
We will no longer be providing overflow posts. In an event where the post hits CAPTCHA, players are advised to move threads to an overflow post on their character journals or create their own catch-all post. These threads remain eligible for AC, AC Rewards, and REP.
1 SILVER = 1 US DOLLAR.
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[Solas followed closely, offering light as they explored the general area.]
We should tread carefully.
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[ Treading carefully is only sometimes Jim's default; he's better at nudging other people to, always the one who ends up springing traps lying in wait. He'd have been an excellent - if curious immortal - redshirt. But it was not to be.
It's hard to make out any signs of other people in here, Solas's light creating odd shadows against the rocky shapes of the walls and ceiling, but Jim forges on ahead, attention primed for anything out of the ordinary.
After long minutes (or more? who can tell), there's a sound-- someone yelling, a struggle, and though it echoes in the winding corridors, it's something. Jim picks up his pace, trying to move fast enough to close the distance between them and whatever's going on without making too much noise as to confuse his own sense of direction.
Yellow light ahead, the telltale sign of a shaman's presence, one figure looming over the other-- ]
Hey! [ It's not a real warning, just shaking up the situation, prompting the shaman to flinch away from the person below. Barely a second later and a zip! of energy hits him from Jim's phaser. He staggers back, face twisted in anger, one hand clutching a long, curved blade. That guy should definitely be unconscious on the floor, Jim knows, but there must be something fueling him. He doesn't change the setting on his phaser, just shoots him again. If anything, it'll push him away from the victim. ]
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In its simplest forms a simple cut can rectify a deformity, or purify a taint from people and objects. However in order to achieve more power, as is so often coveted, lives are sacrificed in hopes of binding demons, or enslaving beasts and people to do their bidding.
[It was about as simple as he could get with it, he could likely give countless examples of it, but much of it would be lost with the other's ignorance of magic. It helped fill some of the silence as they walked, Solas having an easier time of it that Kirk, Elves could see better in the dark than humans though there was admittedly not much to see here.
Once they stumble upon the shaman, however, Solas falls into the rhythm of combat without a word, casting a barrier around the pair of them. Kirk would notice little difference, other than an odd glow with small stray bits of energy hovring about them like fireflies- if he was attacked though, he would feel little more than the impact while suffering no injuries.
His next spell took a bit more preparation, a chill took to the air as he set protective wards on the ground. It was a rather obvious trap, the runes pulsating a faint blue- but that had never stopped others from barreling over the wards in the past and promptly getting themselves frozen. It would fortify their position at least.]
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But there's no opportunity to ask further probing questions - Jim files the information away to be followed up with at a later time. ]
Drop it and stand back, [ Jim tells the shaman in a tone of voice that most, non-blood crazy cave priests would probably obey. He's not the most intimidating looking human to ever exist (by far), but he's more than capable of projecting effective authority when he needs to.
Or, uh, not so effective, it seems. The shaman is woozy, uncoordinated, but still gripping the knife, while the civilian on the ground is making desperate, gasping noises. Jim pushes forward, mindful of the strange flickers of light, putting himself between the shaman and the civilian, giving Solas space to get behind and see if they can be saved.
Phaser's not doing any good, he decides, and doesn't bother firing again even when the shaman rushes him. His plan is to sidestep and grab the outstretched arm holding the blade, but the shaman steps over the runes, and-- ]
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Solas just casually gave the ice block a few light taps with his staff before casually walking around it to tend to the injured individual on the floor.]
That should hold him for a time, but the effect is not permanent. He shall be able to free himself in a few minutes.
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Let's hustle, then.
[ He bends with hands on his knees to talk to the civilian, asking about what happened - basically, what they already know, though he's able to give some context about the priests, and how this is at least somewhat abnormal.
When the shaman starts to twitch around, Jim straightens back up and moves over to him, grabbing fiercely at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and then watching as he - flippin finally - collapses to the ground.
Under his breath: ] Really, that works, and not the phaser?
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Martial combat is not something to be underestimated, despite its simplicity.
[He stands and helps the civilian to their feet, guiding them somewhere that looked to be a good hiding spot for the time being. He doubted they would be able to get past the shamen on their own given what they had seen. He turned to regard Kirk after the civilian was in relative safety.]
Once we have finished our business down here we should circle back to gather any of those we come across along the way.
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Definitely, [ Jim says as he stands up. ] And I want to know more about the history of objecting to this shit. Have you noticed that nobody can remember anything about the immediate political context of the conflict between Wyver and Olympia? [ he says this as they're making they're way further in, keeping his voice low. They're supposed to be hush-hush about all this, though he's still not sure why.
There are more shamans, all of which are aggressive and eager to stick sharp objects into people - and a few more civilians. They're too late for at least one, he expects, judging by the blood they find. He mostly gives up on using his phaser, deciding to save the battery if it's going to be ineffective. He's pretty good at punching people, after all. ]
There's the exit. [ Crouched behind an alcove, peering into the proper hall and towards the only source of natural light and fresh air, which is guarded by a knot of holy lunatics. ] I have a feeling they're all going to need to be subdued if we're going to get any of the people we've come across out of here.
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[Such was a tale as old as time itself, and something he had seen in the past many times. The only way for such a thing to truly end was for one side to swallow the other, even that that would be followed by years of hardship and bloodshed.
His attention shifts to the more immediate matter at hand. That is quite a crowd, he could split them up, see they're impaired, but they lacked the force to subdue so many at once from simple stuns, and he would rather reserve the power required for a wall of ice in case they were flanked.]
I have a spell to impair them, but it will take me some time to cast and for it to take full effect. I will require that they are kept off me, but I can see to your protection beforehand.
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He'll have to think about it later. ]
I can keep them off you. [ Confident. Jim adjusts the setting on his phaser with a shift of his thumb; not quite on 'kill', but amped up from a normal humanoid stun. Even if someone does die, here, he's not going to end up agonizing about it - it's clear these shamans have been killing or facilitating the deaths or torture of civilians, which means they're combatants plain and simple.
He waits until Solas gives him the go-ahead, and then slips away from him, keeping to the edge of the main room, angling to put space between himself and the other man, let him stay in cover for as long as possible.
Jim isn't unnoticed for long. The second he's spotted, Jim fires, hitting the closest shaman to him. The man staggers to his knees and Jim slams a foot into his face, knocking him unconscious, aiming for a second shaman-- a couple are rushing him, but the other few are moving back, calling out for aid, and it's obvious they aren't just praying to some invisible power on high.
An awful sound emanates from a catacomb entrance across from them, and something staggers out. Something with too many limbs, too many heads, and with shuddering, unstable bits of rock floating around it. ]
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All goes smoothly at first, Kirk is holding their attention enough that he goes unnoticed while he prepares his spell. It took some time to draw forth enough of the Fade to warp the area, but once the preparation was complete he summoned a gale confined to the area. The shaman caught in the blizzard would find moving increasingly difficult as they became frozen bit by bit. Kirk would feel little more than a cold breeze himself.
The creature they called forth, however, would only be mildly impaired,the blizzard was more of an annoyance than a true problem.
Solas cursed under his breath, they weren't exactly in the best position for this. There was only two of them, and while the shaman were indisposed at the moment, he doubted they would be able to kill this beast before the spell's effects wore off.]
Captain! Lead the beast back to the halls, we can limit its movements in the confined space!
[All the while prevent themselves from getting flanked at an inopportune moment.]
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It works for a second, but then the chimera takes a swing at one of the trapped shaman, shattering limbs and leaving hunks of iced-over flesh and bone to ooze chilled blood onto the stone floor. Jim swears and fires again, nailing the cat-like head on the beast repeatedly. ] Hey hey hey! Come here!
[ Jim has no particular protective instinct for these lunatics, but they need to control the encounter as best they can, which means focusing the chimera's attention. It takes him getting closer than he'd really like to pull the beast off of the frozen shamans, ducking flying objects and viciously outstretched limbs, but he darts away and leads it back to the mouth of the catacomb. On the other side of the hall, a few civilians are peeking their heads out from behind the altar. ]
Go! [ Jim shouts at them, and then they're in the dark again, being pursued - he has no idea if they're following that instruction or not. He flips his phaser up to the first kill setting and fires - this time getting an enraged, pained noise out of the thing, but it doesn't stop. Bits of rock and ice fly towards he and Solas, followed by the charging creature. ]
If we can knock it out, great, but let's not put anyone in mortal danger, [ he says, his attention firmly on the chimera. ]
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Also the sizeable grean boulder Solas pulled from seemingly nowhere to drop on the beast's head (or what he assumed was its head) did not help its ability to aggressively pursue them. It would only serve to stun it for a moment, but that would hopefully give them enough time to adjust their tactics accordingly.]
I can assure that the people are not injured, but we will be trapped here with the beast.
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That works, [ he says, of being trapped in here. It's fine, he can just shoot the damn thing and be done with it.
You know, hopefully.
The monster crashes into a wall, staggering, but its sluggish state doesn't seem to be making it any less dangers. Jim angles them towards a dead end. ]
Just let me know when--
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NoW! We are sealed in here with it, do not hold back!
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Jim fires, phaser cranked up all the way - it would vaporize a human - and it almost does. Parts of the chimera sizzle and warp, burning from the laser-like beam, but with its opposite arm it brings down a heavy, brutal swing, smashing into Jim and shattering Solas's protective spell. It's in close now, and will be able to swing at the both of them if it recovers. Jim moves with the impact, and in a heartbeat, dumps Starfleet training--
Instead, he jams the crooked knife he lifted off the first shaman they encountered into the thing's neck, shoving it in up to the hilt, and yanking it back out at a shifted angle.
The chimera grapples at Jim as it falls, staggering him, inhuman blood pouring out over the both of them, but it does fall. ]
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Catch your breath, Captain, but keep in mind we are not yet finished. The ones responsible for this aberration still require tending to.
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Wrong or not, it's all over him, and Jim's relieved to see it so still and lifeless, even if he immediately feels guilty at the same time. ]
Parts of this is-- was-- a person. [ Obviously. He shakes out one arm, getting warm blood off his hand as best he can. ] What the hell are they doing here.