[closed] INTO THE WOODS.
At Ramir's request, Hellboy has accompanied her into the jungle, looking for clues as to this rising cult of Ryba. It's dangerous stuff, cults, particularly when those cults have a penchant for sacrificial mutilation: missing villagers can only spell disaster for the recruits themselves down the line, so it's best to nip this in the bud as quickly as possible.
Hellboy is worried about the missing half of their team, but until the storm dies down, there seems to be no better way to pass the time than walking around in creepy jungles looking for possible cannibals.
THE RESCUE.
After Hellboy's warning and the necessary preparations, it's time to rescue King and Ramir -- and as many captured Nalawi as you can. The camp is by one of the largest estuaries on Pu'ulai, camouflaged by native flora and hidden in the shadow of the volcano Nalalona. The cultists have removed King and Ramir's magitek jewellery, but the tracking beacons are still active, making it easier to find them than without.
The well-hidden camp is creepy, filled with ramshackle tents and poorly-made effigies. There's a pool in the middle of it all, filled with brackish, murky water. Ramir, King, and a small number of terrified-looking Nalawi are all bound, kept on the far side of the camp.
The cultists are all dressed in hooded black robes, doe and stag alike. They are all without their Gifts, but that does nothing to temper their ferocity at intruders into their camp. Despite their diminutive size, they know the forests better than any ALASTAIR recruit, and are suited to blitz attacks on any would-be rescuers; they may pop out of the underbrush in small, seemingly endless waves. They also have sharp hooves and the stags' horns are dangerous, capable of goring anyone who doesn't get out of the way of a charge.
The cult is surprisingly large, so it may take some time to defeat them all. Whether you want to spare them or destroy them is up to you -- but it's clear that the cult has no plans for mercy whatsoever.
EXPLORATION.
Now that the cultists have been dispatched (one way or another), the camp is free to explore.
If any cultists are captured for questioning, they'll speak in gibberish and violently lash out at anyone who comes too close. The only thing they'll say that makes any sense is that Ryba is hungry -- Ryba the devouring one has eaten all the lesser gods in the world long ago, and now she needs more.
All around the camp are various effigies (poorly crafted from dried kelp), shark's teeth, and other junk of the sea. There are tents scattered around that may be explored; they are filled with mundane paraphernalia such as books, combs, and other trinkets of sentimental value. If one didn't look at the horrors outside the tents, it might be confused for a refugee camp.
The pool in the middle of the camp is filled with black water and disembodied Nalawi eyes, its concentrated magical energy more potent than even the water out in the ocean. There is a single doe in it, floating face down, the latest sacrifice before the cultists were interrupted; not dressed in their black robes, she is one of the missing villagers who was not so lucky. If she is turned over, it can be seen that her eyes have been gouged out.
The surviving kidnapped villagers are badly shaken up but have no answers as to what happened other than they were captured by what they refer to as a "death cult." Apart from some slight hunger and dehydration, none of them are injured. They're just glad to be alive, and ask to be escorted back to the Pu'ulai temple.
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epidemiology2016-05-09 06:34 pm
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Hold up, don't do anything stupid. There's more of them than you think.
[ They're in and out of the camp, disappearing and reappearing like little cloaked ghosts from the undergrowth. Their height and knowledge of the jungle is a serious, really unfortunate advantage. She half turns her head, not quite toward Achilles, just to be able to direct her voice back to him a little more discretely. ]
Did Hellboy find you? [ No, stupid question, she immediately replaces it with another: ] How many of you are there?
vague hand gestures at numbers
A small band of us have encircled this location. Worry not - no matter their numbers, these vile traitors will fall to my spear as wheat falls before the scythe. They have not even their gifts to protect them from this black fury which fills my heart.
[His own godlike strength may be dimmed under the heavy pall of this curse, but still his spear is as an extension of his arm, of the beat of his heart. His size too tips the scales toward him: the Nalawi can slip like shadows through the bristling underbrush, but once he roots them out he can overwhelm them through brute force.]
no subject
[ Too bad she doesn't have much beyond this knife. Well, at least she's got that, it's an improvement over what she had five minutes ago. Her hands, still held behind her back to imitate still being bound, clutch at the hilt of it. It's with a whole lot of reluctance she says: ] We gotta get King and the other hostages outta here before anything else.
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[In swift silence he tries to discern the captives from the darkness that he may assess their numbers. A few Nalawi who are bound and hunched nearby have noticed him: they try to keep the incipient relief from creeping into their expressions and keep their eyes forward.]
I with spear and you with knife shall fast undo the ropes which bind the hands of all held here. Then while they withdraw from this accursed place I shall slaughter those who brought such wickedness to be, for death is the only justice they shall find.
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Yeah, all that.
[ Even the slaughter, although she doesn't want to think too hard on that one just yet. She's pissed enough that it currently sounds like an excellent idea, and she'd really like to keep it that way. ]
Except I'm supposed to be here, you're not. I can keep them thinking everything's fine a little longer. You wanna keep an eye out while I start cutting? They realize what I'm doing or sound an alarm, then I'm gonna need you to jump in and help.
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There is reason in what you say, daughter of Jolanda. Then in the shadows shall I remain while you complete this business, until ripens the time that I may sow retribution.
[Whispering thus, he settles into silence and keeps his eyes keen that he may detect the cloaked movement of the renegade Nalawi who flit about the forest as do shadows upon a wall.]
no subject
So, with a quick nod, she slips away. She works quickly and subtly, moving only when she's sure she's not being watched, sidling up next to a hostage and keeping their hands out of sight, back to back, as she works through the ropes. Each one gets a hissed whisper not to move. Progress is good, but good luck can't keep up forever.
Maybe one of the cultists finally noticed that Ramir's shifting position way more often than she should, or maybe she finally slipped up and someone saw the flash of a knife in torchfire. Either way there's a shout, and then the gig's about up. The hooded deer move swiftly, some moving to surround the hostages and some leaping to subdue those already free. Ramir scowls and keeps working on the one she'd started on. ]
Your move, Achilles! [ He knows, she knows he knows, but she makes it official anyway as the last of the current set of ropes frays away under her blade. ]
no subject
So too with the next, who lunges at him with the blade of a knife flashing in the thin moonlight: Achilles pushes her back with his shield, which although roughly hewn from wood serves its purpose here, and runs his spear through her stomach, spilling guts as dark as the cloaked night. As vicious as these Nalawi may be with their hearts whetted upon desperation, Achilles stands more than a full head above even their tallest warriors. Thus, he converts his size to raw power and wields this to his advantage.]
no subject
She does have to stop, at one point, when one of the cultists decides she's a better target than the crazy spear-wielder over there. She darts a glance over at Achilles when she sees the cultist approaching, but that dude looks pretty busy. This guy has a spear of his own though, and Ramir's really not eager to try out spear versus knife.
So she wraps an arm around each of the Nalawi she'd been working on cutting free and lifts them both (staggering only slightly under their combined weight), and slinks backward toward the trees behind them. If he follows, she decides, she'll circle around to Achille's side, wipe this guy off on him.
He does follow. So she groans, grits her teeth under the self-imposed deer-burden, and nudges her knife into one of their hands to finish cutting while she works on moving them. Hopefully Achilles isn't too busy over there. ]
no subject
So the night lurches on, drenched in blood and smelling of panic. By the time the last of the captives has slipped into the safety of the trees beyond the camp, the son of Peleus has slain more than a dozen of the dark-cloaked Nalawi and their ruined bodies litter the underbrush, nothing more than food for carrion birds. Throughout the encampment, others of the rescue crew clash with the cultists and capture them for questioning, but here in this corner the shadows fall still for now.
His gaze whips around, seeking Ramir once more.]
You are the last of the kidnapped to remain in this foul place. Will you not take this opportunity to claim freedom as the others have?
[His voice presses urgently, making clear his intent: he does not wish for her to stay here.]