epidemiology | EVENT ★ WELCOME TO PERDITION'S REST

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EVENT ★ WELCOME TO PERDITION'S REST

ARRIVAL

Recruits leave Oska at midday, with about 10 minutes of final warning given from over jewelcomms. Then the white mist rises as rifts open, and Oska is left behind. When they arrive in the new world, they’ll find themselves aboard a train, specifically seated in the coach traveling compartments. The other passengers -- humanoids with muted skin tones and bright eyes -- have already been notified of their arrival, so although there will be a good deal of curious staring, particularly from children, no one is going to be very alarmed at the strange, eclectic assortment of aliens that suddenly show up on board.

It seems that, for once, recruits will enjoy a peaceful arrival. The dusty scenery flashes by placidly outside the windows, the rumble of wheels is constant and soothing, and there’s even a snack cart that makes its way around (the snacks aren’t free, though -- recruits are provided a modest sum of Qorral currency, and the locals are already interested in getting in on it).

BAD COMPANY

The first sign of trouble appears about two hours after arrival when there’s a faint BOOM and each of the train cars gives a little shudder. That would be the rear train car’s back wall being blown open. The other passengers know exactly what this means, and some lock themselves into traveling compartments while others haul out previously put away shotguns and pistols, ready to do what needs doing.

And what needs doing is to fend off the troupe of bandits that have decided that this train looks ripe for the plucking. They board from the gaping hole they blew in the last car and begin shooting their way up the length of the train, robbing as they go, but they also circle out on their horses (mechanical and only vaguely horse-shaped four-legged contraptions that easily keep pace with the train) to provide an armed and unfriendly escort. They’ll shoot through the windows if anyone looks like a troublemaker, and are old hands at ducking to the other side of their horses to use them as cover from any return fire.

The conductor and all present passengers would really appreciate a hand from any recruits who feel like stepping up. Those not quite ready to engage in a shootout can always keep the civilians locked into the compartments company. They, especially the children, might need some calming words (and the sage advice to keep away from the windows, and stop making faces at the bandits).

The bandits put up a pretty good fight, but will eventually be driven away (hopefully without having snagged too many ill-gotten goods from the hardworking citizens of Perdition’s Rest), and peace falls back over the train. The passengers will be a bit frazzled afterward, though, and no one can quite ignore that whistling sound caused by the missing back wall of the final train car. It’s a long two more hours before they reach their destination.

WELCOME TO PERDITION’S REST

A dusty wooden sign swings on rusted hinges overhead as the train pulls into the station: PERDITION'S REST. The engine finally stills with one puff of smoke, and as the passengers begin to disembark, recruits will find a small group awaits them.

The Mayor, his aide, and the sheriff are gathered just outside the train station, and once everyone is more or less off the train and conveniently gathered, the Mayor will clear his throat for attention.

"I'm guessing y'all had a long ride here, didn't you?" He addresses the crowd calmly, with the kind of voice that doesn't need to be raised much to be heard. "Heard about them bandits.They ain’t gonna trouble you here in town, but best mind your wanderin’. I'm Mayor Mordecai Jones, and Perdition's Rest welcomes your company. You'll find our businesses hospitable and our services ready. We're a quiet place, keep mostly to ourselves and don't bother none. You'll do just fine here if you abide that."

The aide waits quietly as the Mayor speaks, while the sheriff eyes the gathered bunch with a resigned wariness. She, and a few other locals who would be willing to speak up if asked, are of the opinion that they've gotten by just fine for 30 years without anyone's help, and they don't figure they need it now. But they'll tolerate the meddling, so long as everyone plays nice.

Mayor Jones's speech draws to a close with a last note that trouble can be brought to him or to Sheriff Rosamund Holladay, and he, his aide, and Sheriff Holladay break the meeting without further ceremony and head away.

Welcome to Perdition's Rest. It's recommended that you look around a little, familiarize yourself with the place, and find lodgings. It's going to be home for a while.

OOC NOTES

Welcome to Mission: Perdition's Rest! This mission will last for around three months, currently slated to end in mid-December. Depending on developments, this schedule is subject to change at our discretion.

You can view the dossier here, which contains information that is ICly known to all characters, no matter their arrival time. You can find locations here.

Please direct all questions pertaining to the mission to the dossier page to keep questions and responses in one place for easy player reference. General game questions should be directed to the FAQ.

The Bounty Board will be updated this weekend, so keep an eye out! Remember you can also request bounty missions or submit player plots at any time.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[While Rey had seized her staff, Achilles had raised spear and shield, and for the shield's broad shadow and strong layers of finely wrought metal he is grateful, for off of it the bullets ricochet to leave his flesh preserved. For one who has never seen a gun fired or heard the deafening crack of the bullet flying from the barrel, the sudden onslaught of the bandits seems like the strike of a storm during which almighty Zeus hurls his thunder and lightning. Whether it is arrows and spears that rain down upon him or bullets, battle is no stranger to him, and so he clothes himself in courage to do that which his limbs know best. Even the motion of the train is not so very different from the sway of the chariot hitched to his immortal horses Xanthos and Balios, and with his nimble feet he easily keeps balance as he moves.

His shield is broad enough, and the car narrow enough, that with it he can block the bandits' advance toward the front of the train. Over his shoulder he calls to Rey, whose features evoke a sense of familiarity which he has not the time to place.]

Stay behind me, that my shield might offer you protection as well! I shall ensure that no more of these vile thieves come near.

[So speaking, he lets fly his spear. Its pitiless bronze head pierces the chest of the bandit who leads the way up the aisle and he is swiftly collapsed of strength, his dark blood blooming across the front of his shirt and spilling to the floor where his body is sprawled out. This is a dangerous tactic on Achilles' part, for he has no sword with which to follow this attack, but his fleet feet carry him down the length of the car and his shield protects him from the deluge of bullets as the bandits' shock turns to rage and fear. With his shield, and the sheer force of his body, he pushes the thieves back so that he can retrieve his weapon from the body in which it is embedded.]

[ At first, she opens her mouth to argue, ready to reason that she can handle herself just fine and she doesn't need to cower behind anyone else's shield, thank you. But it's a good plan, and Achilles doesn't wait for permission to execute it. She watches with wide, wondering eyes as he slams bodily through the bandits and wrench his spear free of the one he had felled so easily.

Rey can still remember the way her breath and hands trembled when she shot the stormtrooper who'd started shooting at her first, the way she flinched away from the predatory whisper in her mind that commanded her to kill Kylo Ren. These were the things that would lead her down the road that she feared was inevitable, courtesy of the bugs' invasion.

Instead of arguing, she pulled the strap of her staff over her chest and turned around to usher civilians up towards the engine room, taking it upon herself to crowd them backwards while Achilles held the line. Once they were into the next car, she would feel better about turning to join him—Han's blaster, after all, still hung at her hip; it would make no difference if she had to stay far behind the shield.

But for now, she busied herself with preserving life rather than ending it. ]

[Achilles cannot remember the face of the first man he slew when his ship paused on strange shores that he may sack the cities of men en route to Troy: the unfortunate man whose blood his spear drank first from among all men is but a droplet in the great heaving sea of lives he has felled. Nor can he recall a time when his hands rattled round the haft of his spear and his breath quivered upon his lips, for never has he hesitated in the bloody jaws of war. He was born to be a splendid warrior, of greater skill and strength than his father, and so this role he rose to fill as easily as water fills the channel that has been carved into the earth by water that has flowed before its time.

With the polished haft of his spear in his hand once more, the remaining bandits have little time left in the world of the living. Faster than the thieves can pull the triggers he catches one in the gut, spilling forth a glut of blood when he shoves his foot against the writhing body to pry free his spear head. With a groan the man collapses to gasp his last breaths beside his felled comrade.

Then Achilles must duck behind his great shield as the bandits retaliate with gunfire. One of the bullets ricocheting from his shield, however, lodges itself in the arm of a fleeing passenger who now cries out in pain.]

[ The cries of pain behind her made her grimace. She thought of Finn's blank face, the lack of recognition as he introduced himself by purely his designation, and realized all too acutely the kind of people who could wind up on the wrong side of a spear or a blaster. There were a hundred reasons, good and bad.

A stray bullet pierced the arm of a passenger who collapsed then, and those reasons dried up. It didn't matter where they'd come from; they were going to kill people if someone didn't stop them, and right then, in that cart, it was Rey and Achilles left to the task.

Rey whipped her head around and drew the blaster. Fumbling the safety off, she peered over the top of the barrel and aimed over Achilles' head. It wasn't easy. He was huge, she realized, like trying to shoot around a luggabeast. But she steadied the blaster with both hands and fired off two shots. One took down the same bandit whose pistol had taken down a civilian. The other shot out a window and put a hole in the metal horses they'd ridden in on.

She looked over her shoulder and shouted to the escaping civilians, ] Hurry!

[There soars something glinting over his shoulder, like a beam of light poured forth from the sun, and then the bandit drops to the floor collapsed of strength. Achilles has little time to ponder the means by which Rey has done this: there remain two bandits, and he shall take advantage of this opening to skewer one upon his spear while his shield holds off the accomplice's bullets, which dent his splendid shield with their force.

The surviving thief then drops his gaze to the carnage that Achilles and Rey have together made of his comrades, the rent flesh and pooling blood, the slowing breaths and fading groans, and he seems to decide that this is not the hill upon which he wishes to die. Thus as Achilles yanks his spear from the chest of the freshly slaughtered man, this final bandit shrinks in his fighting spirit and abandons courage for cowardice. As he turns, purposing to run to another train car in which he might find better fortune, Achilles thrusts his spear into his back and it pushes through to pierce his chest, bringing the bandit to cough vile blood with his last breath before the son of Peleus flings him to the floor as one might fling a fish he has caught from the stream.

Easily does he then leap over the bodies to pull shut the door that connects this car to the next, that the next wave of bandits will find their course blocked. The latch is not so sturdy as he should like but it will lend them more time to prepare should more of these dastards appear.]

There was the last we shall see of these scoundrels, at least for the time being!

[ A hole burned in the bandit's chest where he lay on the ground; they didn't have sufficient armor in a town like this, a universe like this, to withstand blaster fire, it seemed. She stared down at it, gaze lingering even as Achilles spoke, and despite knowing there was nothing to be done for their incapacitated attacker, wondered if he might yet make it.

That was the unhealthy sense of optimism that helped her survive Jakku. She broke the link between her eyes and his corpse finally, looking at Achilles. There was blood on his face, on his arms. It was everywhere, really. She swallowed thickly, anchoring herself in her efforts to recognize and place the voice.

War was uglier here than it was in the far reaches of space. Survival was uglier than it was scrambling through a forest and leaving the bodies of stormtroopers behind. ]

Don't count on the time being lasting too long. Whatever they came for, they'll be back for it. Especially now that they have to make up for what they've lost.

[He steps over the debris of bloodied bodies once more to make his way back to her, and for the fallen he spares not even the slimmest of glances: they have reached the end of their living days, and shall now dwell in the house of Hades, or whatever grim hall houses the shades of the dead here in this far-flung land.]

Indeed, I should not find myself surprised if their companions, who swarm as do flies to the sweet promise of honey, were to continue this assault although so many of their numbers already lie dead. At present, however, we ought to turn our eye toward those who have been wounded by these strange weapons.

[It appears that he shall purpose to stride up the aisle to where the passengers have fled, some crouching behind seats and others seeking a safer car, as if near the front of the train they may escape the bullets of these bandits. Briefly, however, he pauses to assess Rey's appearance: small and slight though she may be, she is undeniably steadfast.]

It seems that you make not only a fine helmsman, fair Rey, but a reliable warrior too when circumstance so demands it.

[For now with the crackling heat of battle somewhat subdued, he recalls from where he recognizes her face.]

[ Steadfast though she was, there was also no denying the shell shock that she wore as she stared down at the limp and broken enemies they'd so bravely defeated. It didn't feel as brave in the aftermath; in fact, she felt unnerved by the rush of her pulse, the heat in her chest and neck. She recalled the easy bloodlust she'd felt after being bitten by the insects in Oska, and she recoiled from the sensation. That, she decided readily, was the darkness, creeping in. ]

When the circumstances demand it. [ She clung to that phrase like a security blanket. ] And not nearly as experienced as you are. I doubt you needed my help at all.

Indeed I know well the art of battle, and for my strength in spear and sword I am lauded as the best of the Achaeans, but still I can give respect to those who clothe themselves in the courage to fight. You seem to me as one still green in matters of war, yet you raised your weapon all the same and felled your enemy.

[He can see her shock as plainly as if it were a mantle draping her shoulders, after all.]

Within your bosom must be some small blessing of bright-eyed Athena.

[Among his people, men who favor the bow over the noble spear are considered cowards for keeping their distance from the front lines of the clash, yet he does not belittle her for using the blaster in much the same way. It seems to him a suitable way for women to fight, for Artemis of the silver bow is revered as the protector of young maidens: hateful toward unjust bloodshed as she is, surely she would give her blessing to a maiden fighting to defend herself and others.

He has now begun to move toward the passengers, and he expects that Rey shall follow.]

Come now - have any been injured?

[ Numbly, her head shook up and down, affirming her lack of experience in real battle. But, she thought sadly, she was getting more experienced by the day. Her hand tightened around the grip of the blaster, and the metal shifted and clicked some against her palm. Loose parts. She'd have to look over it later and make sure nothing was so loose it might blow her arm off. ]

Who's Athena?

[ She followed after him, holstering the blaster in a hurry to catch up when she felt that she had lagged behind, awed by the raw and weary ache that battle instilled in her. With the blaster stowed, she took the time to stop and meet the gaze of various passengers, asking with her eyes and not her mouth what Achilles had looked for.

They all looked fine, and none spoke up. There were hole through some of the benches, though, and she had to wonder. ]

We won't hurt you. I swear.

[As they check on the passengers, he answers in words as steady and sure as the wine-dark sea beneath calm skies.]

Athena, daughter of Zeus almighty, is revered as the goddess of war and of wisdom: in the bloody jaws of battle she guides spears and arrows true, and grants her divine protection to the Achaeans.

[Toward the back now there hunches a man who clutches at his arm, and his sleeve blooms red with blood seeping from an unseen wound. When Achilles makes to step closer, the man shrugs him off - and tries to mask his grimace as his wound is jarred by the movement.]

Ain't so bad off...I reckon I can make it into town just fine.

[To which Achilles answers:]

Allow me at least to see the wound. I have with me some salves and bandages, and so I may be able to soothe it in the meantime.

[ He's complimenting my shot, she realized. Sometimes when talking to Achilles, Rey felt like she was speaking another language; no, that wasn't right. Usually the idioms of other languages weren't so difficult to parse. This was worse. He was from another galaxy.

It was impossible to forget. The only people who did have context for her own galaxy were Finn, Anakin, and Ren. A sour taste filled her mouth, but she dismissed it.

She was not surprised, necessarily, that Achilles had the necessary skills to patch the wound—he was a warrior, and field medicine must have been far more necessary on a field covered in swords like his. You couldn't just duck behind a tree to cover from sword-fire. Some of the other passengers look frazzled, and she was sure she heard a child crying, but she couldn't see it behind the seats.

She looked down at Achilles, floundering, and finally said, ] I'm going to go check the other cars.

[Over his shoulder he casts her a glance and gives her a solemn nod.]

Very well - go now and see how fare the other passengers. Perhaps our paths shall cross again later.

[So speaking these parting words to Rey, he returns his attention to the wounded man, who has fallen into grim silence despite his earlier protests. Achilles retrieves from his luggage the medicines and bandages with which he shall alleviate the man's suffering. He has with him no tools for surgery, that he may extract the bullet, nor has he anything with which he might clean his spear that he might use its bronze head toward this purpose, as once he mended the festering wound of Telephus of Mysia. Yet what little he can do at present is better than nothing at all.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

EVENT ★ WELCOME TO PERDITION'S REST

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the end?