EVENT ★ THE USUAL SUSPECTS

[futurologists]

THE BARRIER As promised, Arthur has the means to unlock that first, crucial step to saving the ALASTAIR recruits: unveiling the runes maintaining the barrier. He has sequestered himself in a rented room in the inn down the road from the prison; he’s at a good enough distance to keep his concentration unbroken, but near enough that he can reach the runes in question. The recruits are told to be ready, to wait for his signal before they take action. The signal comes just after the stroke of 5 on the town’s clocks, at what would be dawn in a world of less darkness. There’s a shimmer in the air around the brick building of the jail, like the surface of a bubble. Then suddenly the runes are there: glowing bright green, flaming into existence at various points along and within the barrier. There are at least 30 of them along the outside. They’re etched on walls, scribed into doors, carved into the very ground. These have to be destroyed first to make any progress, in any way the recruits are able to. Once these all have been broken, erased, or scattered (and some of them are cleverly hidden or out of reach -- have you checked the topmost brick in the clock tower of the jailhouse?), the first defense of the barrier has fallen. Then the jailhouse itself can be rushed, but magic is still hampered until every rune is destroyed. From there the runes can be found every few feet in the walls, ceilings, and floors of the jail, and only once each one is broken will the spell be completely lifted, magic and abilities restored to the area, and the inmates considerably easier to break out. The recruits aren’t the only ones that can see those runes, though. The jailers are quick to react, and some spring to the defense of the runes while others rush to sound the alarm, calling even more armed guards to the area. Even city guards start to show up in response to the alarm -- there’s definitely a time limit on this venture. Dispose of the runes, rescue your friends, and be out of the area quickly, or you might just be overrun with armed, angry opposition. THE ESCAPE By the time those in the cells are finally brought out, it’s pandemonium. The guards, jailers and city guards alike, might not have been able to stop ALASTAIR’s recruits from destroying the runes and bringing down the barrier, but they’re determined at least to stop dangerous criminals from escaping into the city. And these criminals were due to be hung, so they’re not looking to take anyone down peacefully. They’ll be going for the killing blows. The best chance will be to rely on numbers and scatter. In ones and twos and threes, people should be taking to shadowy alleys, slipping around corners, even dropping down into the sewers, if they have to. Anything to thin out and disappear. The most capable and destructive fighters are asked to stay as long as they can, giving the bulk of the rest of the escapees time to disappear into that unending night. THE COOLDOWN Those that helped free their friends probably won’t run into too many problems in the following days, unless you run into a guard with a few injuries and a long memory. The ex-prisoners, though, are another story. They were in there long enough that the men and women who guarded them know most of their faces quite well, and since they’re out of prisoners to guard, what else do they have to do but take to the streets and search? Ex-prisoners should play it carefully, then, if they don’t want to end up right back where they started. Guards are more than happy to cause an immediate fracas should they spot anyone that belongs in jail. That’s not to say you shouldn’t go out at all! Just, you know, take a disguise with you. As if anticipating the rising demand for them, all local merchant shops seem to be stocking up on scarves, shawls, and bulky clothing. Isn’t that nice? Most of them don’t really care what anyone did to end up in jail, they just want to share in on those ALASTAIR-paid wages. If spotted, townsfolk have varied opinions of the escapees. Some are mistrustful and bitter, and will immediately alert guards upon realizing who they’re dealing with. Some of them really don’t care. They’re tired of the darkness, tired of the conflicts, they just want to get on with life. One old man in particular seems to inexplicably love all ALASTAIR recruits, the ex-prisoners in particular, and will insist on buying a drink and playing a game of chess with any of them he runs into. The goblins, of course, have pretty good opinions of anyone on the wrong side of the king, and will be your best bet for finding lodging and food. Some of them might even think of you as a hero, or at least a roguishly charming vigilante. Spend your post-breakout time well, and try not to make any more enemies.

Comments

jailbreak a, sort of, im moving this to the outside homie

[30ft]

[ The only help Diane can provide is making herself useful outside of the prison, alternating between holding off guards so that others could escape and transporting the injured back to town, as per Levi's request. In the darkness, it's easy to miss people slinking away in the dead of night, but with Lancer, he's all too easy to spot. He's moving slowly, for one, and clearly injured.

Diane is anything but subtle in her fighting, but she has made enough progress that she can spare a moment for him. She rushes over, and in one fell swoop, reaches down to lift Lancer by the scruff of his collar, raising him to eye-level. ]

Someone landed a good one on you, didn't they? Where should I take you?

[ She has no idea how fast he can heal, or whether he needs medicine vs. some sort of magic vs. time. ]

gross what a godmoder

[riastraid]

[ If he were hugely concerned about this, he'd have tried to slice off her fingers clean off the bone as soon as she'd reached for them. But there's no need to be a violent spaz, and he just lets out a disdained grunt as he's lifted off the ground. (Like a dog caught out in the rain, if we have to go that route.)

Why.. this..... ]

Oh, it's you.

[ Hey there? He'd wave, but at this distance she might notice at this distance that he's not alone. Cradled in the one arm is a figure, dark and wet; Lancer's got a fresh stab just above his collarbone, but the vast majority of the blood seems to be the other woman's. An Order member, probably. His expression is staid, both at the pain and his passenger's condition. ]

—Mm, mine's not as bad as it looks. I don't know if she'll make it, though.

[30ft]

[ you make dog jokes yet claim to hate them... i'm onto you. ]

It's nice to see you too.

[ She'd continue giving him a hard time, but he's hurt. Not only that, but he's attempting to take care of someone else, the sight of which had initially escaped her, but now, her eyes widen, and she cups the both of them with her other palm. ]

Where should I take her? [ And him, too, though she leaves that part unsaid. This guy probably had a massive amount of pride, given from their previous interaction, and how he brushes off what would normally be considered a serious wound. ]

[riastraid]

[ i made a dog analogy, it's categorically different

Anyway, he does have a pretty stupid amount of pride, and in most cases a Servant couldn't even be hurt by 'standard' weaponry. But he's weaker than he's been in a long time, and that's something he'll just have to get used to—in the meantime, he can appreciate that she isn't pointing out his sloppiness.

He lets his grip on the injured woman slack a little, leaving her supported but leaning back into Diane's palm and making himself comfortable. ]

I dunno, there's probably a healer or a morgue around. [ v helpful, this guy ] You don't see a way out from up there?

[30ft]

[ We hope you enjoy yourself on the Diane Express, First Class service back to Chantes.

Diane looks down, moreso at the injured woman than at the smartass on her palm, trying to asses her injuries. Yeah, they were pretty bad. Still. ]

Don't listen to him. We'll get you back in good shape.

[ Maybe. Though she did look like pretty much a goner. She looks at Lancer now. ]

There are some healers stationed at the inn, but they've got their hands full right now. Still, that's our best option. Hang on tight!

[ So yeah, she's made a few trips already, and when she breaks into a run, it's a trail she's mapped out before. ]

[riastraid]

[ To be honest, it's not like he can do much else but buckle down and hope she doesn't drop them or get the sudden urge to clap or something. This woman's life is literally in the hands of a sprinting giant, which is not... incredibly comforting. But he's got on arm wrapped around their injured passenger and one holding fast to Diane's ring finger, like a subway rider might hold a rail. So they should be good to go.

And it is (relatively) smooth sailing; they're well on their way to one of the safehouse inns, enough so that he sneaks a peek from between her fingers. He could probably make one good leap and land over there. So he preps to do so, gathering the injured woman up in his arms—

but then the devil, aka a flock of faux-Canadian geese shows up. A huge, startled V-shaped formation honks to life, bolting into flight from a rooftop as soon as she gets close.

Anyway, long story short: enjoy a face full of feathered wasps, Diane. ]

[30ft]

[ What the fuck.

This is the actual worst luck, and she didn't even get a flock of dignified animals stopping her cool guy salvation mission, but some off-brand Canadian geese.

I refuse to write a long description of how these geese catch her off her game, but in summary, she yells in complete surprise, falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes, and both Lancer and the injured woman go flying through the air. ]

Argh! What the hell?! Get away from me!

[riastraid]

[ Ah.......

Well, it's a good thing he was holding onto nameless NPC-chan, because otherwise she'd have just flown out of the equivalent of an airplane's dashboard. So instead they just go sailing through the air in a rain of feathers, and even Lancer's stunned for a second. Incredible.

But! Because he's stupidly overpowered, he does manage a wobbly landing, feet staggering across the cobblestone until he can find his balance with a spin. One of the extremely alarmed inn caretakers stares at all this in disbelief because a giant lady falling to the ground will draw that kind of attention and it's incredibly stupid, why did i write this

The injured Order lady gets unceremoniously (but gently) deposited in the woman's arms as Lancer quirks up a brow. Without missing a beat, ]

Yo——you okay? [ He has to shout, partly because of the distance she sent them flying, partly because those geese are fucking pissed and loud. ] Wow, you really set 'em off...

[30ft]

[ There's something about being assaulted by flocks of flying things that is really setting her off lately. It's happened way too many times-- as if the collective animal and tiny humanoid species all decided to take up the hobby of humiliating her.

As such, she's not in the best mood, and with a loud yell of utter misery, she reaches into the air and squeezes.

SPLAT goes the tiny goose in her fist, its blood trickling down her palm. ]

I am--! [ She reaches out and slaughters yet another closer to the ground, this time letting it rain on her good friend Mr. Lancer. ] SO TIRED... [ She reaches for another, but misses this time. ] Of these shitty flocks ruining everything!

cw: gore, animal death

[riastraid]

[ So much for the gentle giant trope. ]

Hang on, hey——!

[ He's interrupted by a really unappetizing squish and... goose viscera. Just what he.. wanted.... Ah. There's definitely something dripping in his hair, gross. Lancer peels some birdflesh off his cheek with a slightly despairing frown, watching as a bunch of feathers float down in a sad mess.

He's got a strong stomach, and this isn't going to like, haunt his dreams or somesuch. But he tries to play nice with animals when he can, so. Might be a good time to step in. He jumps again, bounces off her kneecap, up her arm—and grabs anchor onto her bangs, hanging there and peering into her face intently. Instead of shouting, though—he breaks into a lopsided smile, ignoring a bird that flies into the side of his head, veering off in some random direction with a squawk. He carries on with completely casual conversation, business as usual. ]

Wow—you've got really nice eyes from here.

[ does he care about being cheesy as fuck, apparently not ]