❪ event ❫ khalo? can you hear me?

[natha]

In normal circumstances, this would have been near the time in which you're called upon to greet the newly awakened. Unfortunately, I speak to you to inform that we must postpone that — there is trouble on your horizon. What, I cannot see for sure. We shall continue to monitor the situation, however — we - ... we — [feed cuts off.] OLYMPIAN PRESERVATION     The city of Olympia is preparing the send-off of its most prized artifact: the heart of the ancient dragon, Ysverai. In doing this, they've transformed the palace court into an exhibition detailing the centuries-old war between Wyver and Olympia. Sculptures of Nithor the Exalted and his men and women in clean, white marble, while their armors are polished in perfect gold. Among Nithor are the sculptures of stallions in all shapes and sizes that also aided in the great war. Further in the exhibition, one may also find other artifacts of much older weaponry, rusted by its time in the earth, and items found from a time when humans feared the dragons. The Royal Guard has increased its numbers in wake of such a public event, particularly because the heart will be in display also. The heart is not what one might expect it to be: about the size of an average human, the heart's core is surrounded in stone, a red glow emitting from its still beating core. If that were not unsettling enough, one might also find that lingering around this particular exhibit will have undue affects on one's inhibitions. You'll notice your heart has fallen into sync with the organ, and your more selfish desires will come forth. Things that have long been buried will rise up and place you in a state of unease, encouraging paranoia about your companions intentions. Allow it to fester, and one will carry this feeling with them long after you've left the scene. It's probably a good thing this is leaving Olympia — perhaps it's a source of so much conflict you've endured. It's easy to become mesmerized by all the historical artifacts that are present in Olympia's exhibition. Some even seem mystical or, like Ysverai’s heart, to hold unspeakable powers. Others are just a little eerie. Either way, Olympia prides itself in its generosity and their grand displays, and so refugees are urged to learn more about their artifacts by spending the night in Palace Court. Though, someone should probably mention that there are rumors of strange, almost occult things happening around these relics at night. People speak of armored soldiers casting shadows that have the ability to walk on their own, or gemstones that catch the moonlight in a certain way and show you visions. But those are just silly ghost stories, right? TALL TALES OF KHALO VILLAGE     Because of Khalo's proximity to Wyver, it's no surprise that they would catch wind of the peace talks between Wyver and Olympia. In response, for the first time in centuries, Khalo Village has willingly granted passage to outsiders — but visitors will immediately find out that one cannot just simply walk into the village. Visitors will need to inhale the smoke of a fyrra herb in order to enter the premises without falling into slumber. Khalo is notably different than what refugees are used to. Visitors, specifically refugees, will find that they are exceedingly accommodating. The Khali are very intrigued by the outsiders, thus they're treated with much respect and given instant access to some of the best lounges and fyrra the village has to offer. In exchange, the village is interested in hearing about your journey thus far. Whether it be through a conversation with another individual or the Khali themselves, they'll very likely to have been eavesdropping and recording the tales of their exploits. Why, exactly? Perhaps it will not be immediately clear, but if you happened upon a venasou, a tamed Khali creature, it may have guided you to their Enchanted Library. Upon entering the library, visitors will notice that it is quite the happening place — but not because it's occupied by the Khali, but because there seems to be an assembly of magical quills seemingly writing on their own. The quills are mostly undisturbed by the intrusion and will not stop writing even if parchment is taken from it; it will simply produce another piece of paper and continue its tales. If you happen to read the parchment, you may notice that there is a daunting similarity between your story and the ones being written here. Tales of Thesa birthing new races and sending them from the sky, for example, are very popular in Khalo Village. They mark July 15th as the day in which the Moon Goddess, Thesa, created more people in her image and brought them to El Nysa as saviors. The coincidences don't end there: specifics about your home world might be found in the writings if you search deeply enough — but it's not without its exaggerations. These stories are given all sorts of poetic and literary forms, from short stories to limericks, biographies to something similar to haiku. If asked, the Khali will inform visitors that the enchanted library has access to vague parts of your memories, and thus it is duty-bound to record. The Khali have not seen stories as strange as the ones being made by refugees, which is largely why they are interested in them. NOTE: This is entirely optional! You may make up your own "stories" (fanfiction) and it could be as accurate or inaccurate, or as serious or silly as you'd like. While tales of the Thesa's descendants are still being written, visitors of the Enchanted Library might find intrigue in the more complete works — KING AND KIN. If one is willing to delve deep, they may also find parts of Wyver's past that have been removed from their own archives. These pages will recount the tales of Shanrian and Rasyc. Though a lot of the narrative seems to divide at certain points in the story, it becomes obvious with some quick reading that Rasyc is not only the son of Shanrian, but that he glorifies the Wyver of old, more bloodthirsty and brutal than it is today. Unlike his father, he does not take kindly to Olympia and the threat they will always pose for their people. He has not forgotten Olympia's past sins and he believes that, in his foolish quest for peace, the king has gone soft and no longer possesses the real will to fight. His present voice in affairs of state is not a loud one, as he chooses to speak in whispers and move in the dead of silence. In these quiet murmurings, he boasts of his unwavering belief in the power and dignity of his people. Of how they should all return to what they once were — the kingdom, its citizens, and naturally the father who he had once admired greatly. Though perhaps it can be argued that any estranged son would wish the same. It's difficult to pinpoint what becomes political and what is and always will be more personal for him. But, it hardly matters. It's clear that Rasyc will stop at nothing to achieve his objectives, even if it means never returning to place he calls home. Even if it means turning his back on his own father, Shanrian, King of Wyver... DRAGONFIRE. While tales of the Thesa's descendants are still being written, visitors to the Enchanted Library might find intrigue in the more complete works. In particular, tales of Ysverai, the last of Wyver's great high dragons. Ysverai is most commonly known for being slain by Olympia’s past king and legendary hero, Nithor, but here in Khalo he is depicted in another light. Ysverai is known to the Khali people as a wise being, old as the first inhabitants that walked El Nysa. The creature spoke in the common tongue to the early settlers, guiding them to refuge when his kin began to dominate the land at the cost of its own isolation. It ultimately becomes a tale of sacrifice, for its stand with Nithor became a testament against the Olympian Empire's long reaching influence. At the bottom, there is a quotation: Your hearts will fill with greed and malice the moment my own stops beating. Take care in the Eye of the Storm. Find strength in one another, before it is too late. It seems to end there. Refugees are naturally allowed to question the natives. However, keep in mind that many of their replies will seem more like speculation than fact. But maybe that can be fun too? If you have no interest in the library and the tales they've woven, feel free to explore any of the other areas of interest. Khalo Village is thrilled to be open for you all. THOSE THAT SEEK PEACE, AND THOSE THAT SEEK --     The morning of the 20th is marked by fairly dismal weather. The sky is overcast and a downpour seems imminent. Regardless of the poor forecast, those who signed up to assist in this mission will be required to come early in order to receive their briefing. Members of Group A: ▸ Jon Snow (song_of_ice) ▸ Daenerys Targaryen (dorzalta) ▸ Loras Tyrell (triplerose) ▸ Terra (earthy) ▸ Alisaie Leveilleur (adelphoi) ▸ Solider: 76 (personalwar) ▸ Ardyn Izunia (daemonized) ▸ Mai(maipokerface) ▸ Olivier Armstrong (wallsofbriggs) ▸ Atsushi Nakajima (gekkajuu) Members of Group B: ▸ Kale (kaleorbekaled) ▸ Diana Prince (wondie) ▸ Pheonix Wright (objectionattourney) ▸ Revolver Ocelot (shashka) ▸ Frederick (pebblestone) ▸ John Sheppard (impavid ▸ Ianto Jones (torchwoodteaboy) ▸ Lena Oxton (quevarly) ▸ Allura (quintessent) Due to the rain, members of Group A will have to immediately stop by the checkpoint at the East Watchtower. Additionally, the Royal Guard and Knightryders are well-prepared with extra cloaks for those who may require it. They also will provide basic refreshments such as water and bread. People are encouraged to take what they need prior to their departure on this mission. The checkpoints are a bit far between, after all. Members of the envoy will also be encouraged to utilize this time to become familiar with one another. Maybe some introductions are in order? You never know who will end up having your back... For both groups, the paths will be relatively straightforward with evenly spaced checkpoints along the way. The only issue seems to be the downpour, really. The rain is unforgiving and the roads easily become unstable and increasingly difficult for the carriage to be drawn through. Hence, there may be more than one occasion where you will be expected to lend a hand in prying out its wheels from a particularly pesky (and muddy) pothole. Or perhaps you will be called upon by a fellow guard to assist in getting a particularly stubborn creature out of the path ahead of you. Seems like it may be a longer journey than you expected. Dirtier, too. While weathering the conditions may have been a bit tiring, this journey isn't too bad, right? Well, maybe not. GROUP A. Once the carriage gets through the worst of the terrain and finally manages to depart from the watchtower, it won't be long until the group is met with a physical roadblock. A large tree trunk will be set down the center of the road, acting as a blockade. But, before the group can react or begin crafting a plan around this obstruction, the carriage will be attacked without warning. At first, it's unclear where the attack comes from or from whom, but you don't have the leisure to deliberate this. You hear one of your fellow guards mention something about bandits frequenting these parts, but maybe there's more to it? Either way, your task is clear: protect the artifact, Nithor's skull, and fight the bandits off. You'll be encouraged to try and capture them so that they may later be turned and questioned by the authorities. GROUP B. With clear motives to restock and collect a few more materials for the carriage, it's evident that the envoy will appear restless to arrive at the second checkpoint. However, despite their unspoken delight at seeing the South Outpost from a distance, it's clear something has gone awry. There will be several hooded figures awaiting them right where the mud path meets the cobblestone of the Outpost's road. Soon, several more of these figures will come to flank them from both sides. While they seem like bandits, at least from their physical appearance, there is something far more polished in their movements. They will be attacking the envoy in concise, practiced formations. For those who are more perceptive, it becomes obvious that they are moving around and acting as decoy to one central figure. This member is likely the "leader" of their group, but no matter how one may try to close the distance between themselves and this mysterious leader, someone will constantly get in the way of that. The fighting also seems to act as a distraction since by the time everything is cleared up... only two things are missing. The leader of this group of bandits and more importantly — Ysverai's heart. NOTE: Those RNG'd to thread out the capture and questioning of the bandits will have starters below. For everyone else that signed up, you will still have the opportunity to capture the assailants even though they were not selected to thread the interrogation; you are free to make up your NPCs with the same basic guideline: they will not reveal their motive or their organization. You may turn them in to authorities (Wyver or Olympia or otherwise) or find creative ways to get rid of them. FINAL OOC NOTE     To reiterate: you may use this log as a general mingle for everything from the May Outline, including all Khalo Village activities. In other words, your top-levels don't necessarily have to be related to the prompts written here. An AC-eligible thread in which your character participates in anything mentioned in the May Outline and/or Khalo Village location page may be submitted for 2 REP POINT FOR EITHER OLYMPIA OR WYVER. SUBMIT THE THREAD FOR OLYMPIA OR WYVER HERE OR HERE RESPECTIVELY BY June 10th 11:59 PM EST. For those who participated in this month's plot-related portion, to receive IC recognition for it, a summary of the thread must be submitted HERE by June 8th 11:59 PM EST. Please direct all queries to the question thread below. Thank you, and have fun! QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● lore ● map ● npcs ● bestiary taken ● atp/emp ● application ● rep/acp ● quest bulletin calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

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CLOSED STARTERS

[natha]

ARDYN IZUNIA

[nysan]

[ The hooded assailant Ardyn pursues is seems to be one of intense focus. He is quick, nimble, maneuvering between his fellow bandits with careful precision — and necessary precision. It becomes abundantly clear that the man’s primary task is to escape with Nithor’s skull, as he targets only the guards around the caravan.

He slits a guardsman’s throat before he could cry for reinforcements from the ongoing battle, throwing open the door of the prize carriage. The glass casing surrounding the skull shatters shortly afterward, leaving the thing exposed and easy for the taking — yet the bandit’s hands still around it. He swallows.

Whatever will that brought him here seems to have left him when face with the artifact, and being consumed in whatever thoughts it has brought on, he leaves himself more vulnerable than he realizes.]

[daemonized]

[It is easy enough to avoid the body of the fallen guardsman, a quick step over him as his boots make contact with damp ground, Ardyn's grin wide and his focus squarely on the bandit before him. It becomes obvious what his focus is, with only a moment of keen observation -- he is going for the skull, and something in Ardyn's chest bursts with excitement. How novel, that this man thinks that he can outrun him.

But he needn't even use his magic, he needn't even warp close to him to catch up. The smashing of glass and the skull is exposed, but hesitation blossoms in his target, and it is just enough for him to close the gap -- the sword he holds in his hand is gleaming in grey sunlight.

Ardyn leaps forward, blade flashing. A kick at the back of the bandit's knee is all that he does right now, for he figures skewering him in too might be too hasty, if he wants to harvest a few answers from this man.]

What's the hurry? Stop and chat a while.

[nysan]

[ The expectation to be skewered then and there overwhelms the man for a moment, his chest rising and falling in quick intervals and his hands raised around the sword like he would have made some attempt to stop it with them. But longer he gazes upon the blade the more he comes to still, accepting his position. He raises one hand, reaching to remove his hood with the other. ]

You do not seem one for idle chatter.

[daemonized]

[Ardyn's smile is often sharp, angled like a predator's. It is no different this time, a cold thing, acute at the edges. Nearly as sharp as the edge of his blade, a gleaming longsword, brought close to the other's neck. A gentle pressure, but a threat nonetheless.

His eyes track over his features, his expression.]

Hmm. You'd be surprised just how talkative a man I can be, when presented with the right topic. What of yourself?

[nysan]

I suppose it depends. For instance, if my conversation partner plans on killing me... I may not.

[ His expression is mixed — one that would like to be difficult to read, but has far too many tells beneath the surface to be so. His jaw is set tight, lips thin, but his eyes continue to dart between Ardyn and the shattered glass behind him. He takes a deep breath. ]

Are you going to kill me, Ardyn Izunia?

[daemonized]

[Ah, and how a brow hikes up at that, the mention of his name passing by this stranger's lips.]

You have me at a disadvantage. I don't have the pleasure of knowing who you are, after all. How very embarrassing.

[But Ardyn has lived too long to not read those little tells flitting under the man's expression. A taut jaw, an anxious look from his prize back to himself. He wonders if this is a man who will dart away like a frightened rabbit as soon as an opportunity presents itself.]

As for your question, that depends on you. Are you going to run off like a thief in the night, with your grand prize in-hand? It would be my duty to stop you by any means necessary.

FREDERICK

[nysan]

[ In all the chaos, keeping track of one specific person's movements is no simple feat. Frederick, however — with his experience as a Shepherd — will be able to identify one hooded figure picking their way through the battlefield whose movements seem a little... shall we say, suspicious.

While many of the other "bandits" are busy harrying the carriages and their escorts, this particular bandit seems to be moving in such a way as to put some distance between themselves and the action. They duck and weave through the battle, but not once do they actually engage any of the combatants — in fact, they even slide on their knees under one bandit's sword before making a break for it.

Frederick would be well within his rights to pursue on horseback. And should he do so, the pounding of hoofbeats cause the hooded figure to look over their shoulder. There is a flash of piercing golden eyes before the bandit lets out a guttural curse and flings a throwing dagger in his direction in a bid to send his horse off course. ]

[pebblestone]

[ His time doing largely menial work at home and on the streets means that his reflexes are duller than what they were months previous, that he notices the hooded figure slip away from the rest seconds later than he ought to. But he is a knight still, even if not one of the realm any longer, and he has a duty to uphold justice wherever he goes

And stealing definitely does not fall into the categories of just behavior.

Wheeling his horse out around the fray, he gives chase, silver lance in hand and ready for action. (Perhaps it had been too much, to go out in full armor and fully armed, but one can never be too sure when trouble might strike. And clearly, trouble had struck.) ]

Stop right there!

[ Naturally, the figure does no such thing and instead turns, a dull flash of light all the indication Frederick gets of a blade flying his way. He yanks on the reins sharply; his horse whinnies as the dagger pieces flesh, but it's a shallow wound and not enough to stop either of them.

As he nears the figure (because even the most quick-footed person is no match for a horse) Frederick swings his lance, putting just enough strength behind the swing to (try and) knock his assailant over and onto the ground. ]

[nysan]

[ There are probably some people on this planet that could outrun a horse.

The bandit, however, is not one of them. Frederick and his horse catch up to the bandit in no time at all, and before they're able to hurl another dagger his way, the lance is already swinging. The weapon catches the bandit in the stomach and they're smacked off-balance, right into the ground.

The bandit's hood slips, just enough for him to get a good look at their face. She — for it is a she — scowls at him and lets out a snarl. One hand comes to rest over her stomach. That smarts, and if she wasn't winded, she'd be making a break for it now.

Instead, she tightens her grip on the handle of her knife with her other hand. ]

Tch. Do you make a habit out of running down people who are trying to avoid battle?

[pebblestone]

[ Not so strange to see a woman under the swathes of fabric. There are women in the Shepherds, after all, and it was a woman Gangrel had by his side who aided him in his elaborate scheme to take the Fire Emblem for himself. Her gender does nothing to stay his hand but there's no further.

Especially not when there's information he wants to know. He pulls his horse to a stop, eyes narrowed. ]

Do you make it a habit of fleeing the scene after an attack?

[ Not very chivalrous, in his opinion. (Not that she cares, he suspects.) But now that they're both here, might as well cut straight to the chase. ]

Who sent you? Why did you attack us?

[nysan]

[ The bandit laughs.

And then, haughtily, she tosses her head and turns to look to the side — most likely, she should be looking straight at him, but evidently that isn't a concern to her. She shifts the arm holding her knife a bit so that it is hidden under her cloak. ]

As if I would tell you that.

[ But turning away from him is something of a foolish move. The cloak she is wearing is embroidered with the insignia of Mythi's Fangs, and turning her head gives Frederick a full-on view of it. From the way her shoulders go tense, she seems to realize it a second later, but just in case he hasn't noticed, she plays it cool. ]

Not for nothing, anyway. Information has a price. [ She takes this opportunity to look at him head-on again, hiding the Fangs insignia on her hood. ] Why don't we make a trade? Since you're— [ She sneers; apparently, she is not enthused by the idea of trading the heart for the skull. ] —into those.

[pebblestone]

[ The symbol means little to him, his knowledge of Wyver largely limited to the stories and rumors that filter through the Olympian marketplace and the scant handful of trips he's taken there. But he has a good memory, and decent enough art talent that he commits the insignia to memory for later discussion.

For now, he contemplates the woman's offer. Bargaining has never been his preferred tactic of choice - he's a soldier and not a politician, after all - but if that's what it takes. ]

Very well, if it's a trade you want. [ Once more he hefts his lance, though this time he points it straight at her. ] The information for your life.

[ Then he dips his head, almost courteously. The lance, still held high, never wavers. ]

I hope you don't think I'll spare you simply because of your gender.

JOHN SHEPPARD

[nysan]

[ While most of the bandits remain close to the carriage, still fervently engaging in battle with those in the envoy, one bandit in particular seems very keen on preemptively making their escape from the scene. This bandit moves quickly. Hardly even giving pause to the concept of leaving their post or their companions behind. If anything, they seem to have something else in mind entirely— a different task or another plan. This seems to especially the case as they manage to get a far, but still near enough to see the action from a distance.

If John takes his time approaching them, he will notice that this individual seems to be trying to signal something to a specific person in the group. Maybe a partner? Maybe their leader? But with how messy things have become, it’s difficult to pick apart who they’re trying to communicate with exactly (or for what purpose). Even their motions will seem curious. Almost too subtle to even be a real signal to anything.

Either way, it’s clear that’s this bandit a little more than distracted with the battle. If John watches them carefully and approaches at the right time, he should catch them off-guard. After all, they certainly didn’t expect any of the guards to possess the ability to pinpoint their current position in the shadows. ]

[impavid]

[ The rain is abysmal not just for how wet it leaves everything, but also for visuals and tracking.

The whole thing has already gone downhill, because of course it has, but once he spots one of the bandits making a break away from the path John has a sinking sensation it could get a lot worse. They may have lost the leader for now, but there's enough fighters among them to stay alive. If the bandits signal for reinforcements, though they could do more damage. It hadn't... felt like their intention, it had been set up more like a distraction to grab the dragon heart, but on the off chance there's still more to the plan they can't let any of them get away.

They could also do with more information, and it's... easier for John to get that where there are less people to disapprove of his tactics. He pulls out his tracker, tilting it toward himself to disguise the glow, and keeps a steady grip on his dagger as he carefully follows the little dot on his screen. It's moving quickly, which means either they're desperate to save their skin or they have something specific in mind. The downpour at least means it isn't quiet out, masks some of his movements, and once John's close enough to put the tracker away he's not surprised to find whoever it is really is signalling someone.

For what, though? It's a toss up. It could be for help. It could just be an exchange of information. Sign language? Just some kind of visual pass-code? John would love to watch for long enough to gauge more, but watching might well mean an army of bandits descending on them. So he watches long enough to try and memorise at least part of whatever the pattern is, then quietly moves up behind the bandit.

One hand moves to clamp over their mouth, in case any of the others are in screaming range, and the other brings up his dagger to their throat. ]

Hi.

[ His voice is soft, barely above a whisper as he tries to vaguely get a sense of if there's a weapon strapped to this person he should get rid of while simultaneously trying to haul them around behind some cover. Just in case whoever they were signalling has a ranged weapon. ]

[nysan]

[ By the time bandit realizes that someone’s closed in on them, it’s far too late to react as freely as they could or would have. The hand clamped over their mouth is tight and the dagger at their throat obviously less than ideal. Though as their natural reaction would dictate, they’ve placed a dangerous hand right between their neck and the blade John wields. Obviously, also not ideal.

But, despite being caught bloodied-palmed, their eyes still seem to gaze upwards at the fighting and their present formations. Then they smile in spite of it all, not that it’s visible behind John’s hand.

If John feels around, he can probably feel several weapons strapped against her back beneath her cape and hood. She supposed this is where she curses her lack of attentiveness. But this was one way to play decoy, right? She presses a tight hand over the blade, enough to allow a fair amount of leeway as she tries to trip John up with her feet.

Her legs are surprisingly nimble. But, what is probably stranger are the noises she makes trying to speak beneath a clamped hand. ]

[impavid]

[ He feels the bandit squirming to trip him, feels the hand moving to try and grab his blade and gives a growl of irritation. ]

Oh no you don't. We're going to have a little chat first.

[ None of that, now. Whatever it is they're trying to say he can't make out, but that doesn't matter. He shifts his weight, trying to avoid their feet and managing with a slight stumble, then moves to try and topple them both to the ground so he can pin the bandit down. Then he can make sure they can't reach anything more easily. ]

[nysan]

[ Considering he sniffed her position out easily enough, it only makes sense that he is capable in this regard too. Despite the best of her abilities, it looks like John still has the upper hand at this proximity. But that doesn’t mean that she relents. She continues to struggle against John’s lead in this situation. It’s their tangle of legs, however that eventually gets the best of both of them.

They end up tumbling straight towards the muddied ground. The momentum and sheer force of her back hitting the ground is enough to cause her to wince upon impact. But she’s trained enough to react in spite of the pain. She instantly brings her knees up, attempting to dig them into his calf as he falls forward.

While her mouth was freed in the process, calling for backup wouldn’t really do much for her. Not here, not now. If anything, it would probably be a wrench in their plans at this point. But these are thoughts she keeps to herself as she continues to fight against his attempts to pin her to the floor. She grits her teeth. ] Is this your idea of a chat?

With those manners, no wonder you couldn’t get anyone else to come with you.

[ But he's right that she doesn't have access to her own weapons like this. ]

[impavid]

[ He grits his teeth as she struggles, eyes narrowing as he fights -- her? -- back down, struggles to get his dagger back to her throat. ]

There's a reason I'm divorced.

[ This is not the time for sass, though, she's not nearly intimidated enough and she needs to be. So he moves to try and press his weight more aggressively into her too. ]

Now, we can do this the nice way or the unpleasant way. Your call, but you should know I'm normally the bad cop in these scenarios.

SOLDIER 76

[nysan]

[ Soldier 76 wouldn't be wrong to have targeted him - in terms of movement, his actions were notably suspicious. He had stayed behind as the others attacked the convoy, unmoving but watching. And he doesn't make a move until hears word that the heart has been seized from the other group.

That's when 76 might have caught a glimpse of him. With the mission complete, he whips his head free of the now drench hood of his cloak, revealing his piercing, fiery eyes and hair that seem to match in same blood red. He flashes a toothy grin, perhaps meeting eyes with 76, and proceeds cover himself again, turning tail to run while the others were still occupied - and, haha - killed, even. It becomes clear that his move is calculated, at least - sensing that 76 had been staring, it was his duty, too, to keep him distracted. Running away is a sure way of luring him away from the chaos of the skirmish, and he does so much better one-on-one. ]

Hey hey hey hey! [ He's shouting from from ahead, knowing very well the man is chasing him. ] C'mon, faster, faster! I might really escape, you know? — oh, shit!

[ He's already eating his words; the man catches up quickly. ]

All right, you're fast! I get it, I get it!! [ But he doesn't stop running; he continues to speed on ahead - even when it's become rather evident that this chase will end very soon. ]

[personalwar]

[ Given all of the commotion that's been kicked up by the sudden attack on their convoy, it had naturally stood out as strange to 76 when he spotted one figure remaining on the outskirts of all the action. There's a good group of refugees here, plenty of them proficient in combat, so when the figure he'd been eyeing makes a break for it, 76 doesn't hesitate to book it after him.

He's not one to be goaded too much by pointless taunting, but faster is something he can do. He doesn't know if this bandit has any tricks under his sleeve, but so far he seems to run at the pace of a normal human. This should go fine, assuming that 76 doesn't suddenly find himself without his enhancements again.

76 doesn't say anything, just growls as he lunges forward that last foot and reaches out to grab the bandit by the hood of his cloak and yank him backward. The pull might be enough to choke the guy for a second or two.

Having already gotten a good look at his face, 76 is pretty sure that this man wasn't part of the group that abducted him. He doesn't really strike him as a shaman at all, but that doesn't mean there's no connection here. ]

Where the hell do you think you're going?

[nysan]

None of your — gah! [ He finds himself choking when the tail of his cloak is seized; the cloth that once kept his hood secure now threatens his very life. At the very least he's able to the tug the fasteners free and discard the cloak completely. Once again, his face is in view, but his expression barely falters. ]

That hurt, you know!

[ But he knows it's over. The speed of the man is unlike any Wyver he's known - more like a creation from Evras' labs - and that's not even commenting on the strength he possesses. All he can do now is buy more time. ]

You're not human, huh? [ He gestures toward him, grinning wildly still. ] What are you?

[personalwar]

[ When the cloak comes free, 76 discards it, tossing it aside so that it can flutter to the ground. Now that he's got a better look at the man's face, he puts the details to memory. With the red hair, he isn't exactly subtle. If for some reason this guy gets away, he wants to be able to offer a detailed description of him to anyone who'll bother to listen.

Even better if he can take him into custody, though, so 76 closes the distance between them again, getting right up into the guy's face. ]

Not what you should be concerning yourself with right now. [ He isn't the one who has things to answer to, here. He grabs the bandit by the collar, yanking him even closer as the red slit of his visor stares him down. ] Why do you want the skull?

[nysan]

[ The glow of his visor is distracting; he can only focus on the stern tone of his voice to get any sense of his expression. Seems like a serious guy, not fun at all! Why was he stuck with such a stick in the mud?

His opinion of him changes only slightly when he approaches him. He doesn't recoil; keeps seeded in spot, and even straightens his neck for him to grab him. He grunts as he's tugged closer, unfazed and as compliant as a "bandit" could possibly be, all things considered. With their proximity, Nhays can't help but make out the details of the man's face — or what's exposed, anyway. ]

I'm a thief! That's what we do. [ He's not a very good liar, but it isn't as though he's making a great attempt at being convincing. ]

More importantly, that scar. Yikes!

[personalwar]

[ The fact that this bandit isn't putting up more of a fight is definitely strange, and after only a moment of consideration, 76 has to assume that he did this all as a way to distract him from the rest of the action. He keeps his grip firm on the bandit's collar even as he looks back at the carriage; so far it looks like the rest of the refugees are putting up a good fight. ]

And who do you answer to?

[ Somehow 76 doubts that a regular group of thieves would take on a job as high-profile as this one, knowing the risk that would be involved. There has to be more to it, or at least that's what he wants to believe, if only because that might mean he's finally getting a chance at some real answers.

He begins to drag the bandit back toward the carriage. Once all of this is over with, he intends to make sure that at least one of them is taken into custody. There's no telling how much he can get out of him right now, but with time (and some pressure), that might change. ]