[RG RP] Lambs of Stranglethorn

[ImagenAshyun]

The grenade lets out the spray of false fog. Only a few guards catch on, but the rest are too focused on the slaves to notice.

The boats are soaked from the row to shore. It'd be difficult to light them on fire so easily unless the fire starts from the inside.

[Kage]

Krest removes more of the armor. He hated the weight, despite it being only leather. He drops the gloves first, the red somehow angering him before he stood back up, only wearing the leather chest, legs, boots, and wrist armor. He stood for a second, trying to figure how he would get on the boat itself. Then he thought of it. He walked out to one of the boats, his hand on his sword as he looks at who ever and what ever amount of guards are on the ship.

Who's in charge here? He glanced about, his look angry. I heard there was a stow away on board. I'm here to check under the boss's orders.

[ImagenAshyun]

Peacock and Peahen hear the disguised Krest. They look over to him, Peahen especially glaring. "And just who are you?" Without the uniform red gloves donned, he can be quickly assumed to be an intruder.

[Kage]

He blinks a bit. He didn't expect there to be another higher up close by.

"Oh Fel it all!" Instead he takes the chance to lean over, pulling out the two daggers from his boots and ran at the first two guards, moving to impale there throats and continue on the boat, determined to set it on fire.

[Krilari]

The Swordsmistress sits high upon her perch, legs kicking idly as the combat below catches her attention. While a hand would flicker closer to her blade, she managed to keep herself from acting on habit.

"How unfortunate..."

[Zenethen]

Barregis Jones rolls his shoulders, and fires a shot off at the first sentry, striking the man's shoulder. He quickly reloads, the second sentry ducking and trying to hide behind cover before receiving a shot to the chest. Jones smirks slyly at his work, and sneaks out of the bushes. He moves forward to the one he shot in the shoulder, and kneels onto the man's wound. "You're going to tell me what the operation here is, or you get to join your friend on the trip to hell." Jones says as he pulls a revolver from its holster and holds it to the sentry's forehead.

[Kage]

Krest continues up the ship, a spinning ball of daggers as he cuts up anyh other guard in his way. He pants only slightly, going into the ship itself.

Where is the hay, or a bed, or anything.. He growls a bit, looking around before going deeper into the ship, still looking.

[Beltharean]

A body jerks, and a mind falters. The Forsaken’s eyes dim flicker; A machine rebooting, a computer restarting. His inner mechanics being pulled into the reigns of one most similar to he who had raised him. Necrotic energy poured through every fiber and in turn every fiber responded. Tressian’s new plaything turned to face a nearby sentry as the clamour of fighting begins to break out, “Looks like something’s going on... Stay here with the slaves.”

After any discussion, he would break away from his post and head in the general direction of the fighting. The construct would however, after being lost in the throng of the shackled, turn toward the forest. Arching his path around, his feet take him to it’s edge, heading toward his new master. Now united, master and servant, Tressian speaks with his mind as much as with his mouth, “Bind my hands.” The creature nods. Gloved red hands take rope to black-clothed wrists. They exit the forest, the Forsaken presumably having found an escaped prisoner. He would prod Tressian forward, moving ever toward the sounds of conflict.

[Kage]

He keeps searching, feeling somewhat lucky that no one has bothered to follow him under so far. He eventually does find a bed, and then it hits him. Flint and steel isn't enough to start a fire fast enough. He needed something to light the fire instead. A flame that might have already been lit. He stood there, thinking as fast as he could before he figured it out. The lamp. Well, a lamp. The room was lit, but he didn't know if it was by a lamp or not. But should it be, he would take it and break it over the bed, using the lamp oil and flame to burn the bed, and let the flame spread.

This better work.. Should the flame work, this is what he would say, and the first thing he would do is find his way out of the boat. Perhaps there is a window in the room. If so, he would shatter it with a near by chair and dive out into the shallow water, feet first of course.

[ImagenAshyun]

(New rule: Limit 4 posts per player between Checkpoints. This does not count my response posts in between.

And screw 7 days, I'll just have 7 Checkpoints. I seem to be falling asleep before midnight much more often.))


[CHECKPOINT 2: A guard sees the chaos and starts shooting a flare for the ship away from shore. The next Checkpoint will be the arrival of the Mongoose.]


The Foul Medicine is off shore--one would have to swim very far in order to reach it. Nevertheless, Krest has successfully lit one of the smaller boats as several guards are felled.

Peahen steps away as Peacock loses himself in a crowd of sentries. He turns to the controlled Forsaken then to Tressian, unaware of the new "slave" due to the chaos. "Get the slaves south of the shore," he commands.


The sentry held up by Barregis pleaded for his life. "Please! I'm just a hired hand! Red Glove! This is the Red Glove! We're just taking prisoners, but no killing, I swear!"

[Kage]

Krest lands in the water, looking about. Chaos was going on, but he seemed to be free at the moment. He tried to shake himself dry before walking back on the shore, again posing as a higher up, but picking up the gloves from a nearby dead sentry.

Best it work this time.. He stays away from the boats, moving to go near the slaves. He finds some of the larger men and moves close, whispering into his ear. I'm here to help, try and get the other fighters in your group to get ready to revolt, it'll allow me to buy you guys more time. But don't let the children get involved. He throws a punch into the surprised mans gut before patting his back. He needed to keep up his act after all. The punch wasn't too hard, just enough to let the man know to bend over. He looks to some of the guards near by and starts yelling random orders. Get these slaves out of here! Round them up and don't let any get away.

[Zenethen]

Jones looks down at the sentry's face. "You get to live today." He leaned forward, mask covering his face, and his breaths could be felt on the man's face. "You saw nothing. You were hit by a concussive shot, and were knocked unconscious. If you mention my presence, or don't act straight, I will personally hunt you down and kill you and your entire family, down to the last woman and child. Got it?" He says before smacking the sentry on the temple with the butt of his revolver, likely knocking him cold for quite a long while.

Jones slides the revolver back into its holster, and grabs his rifle, moving forward and into the bushes, looking for a suitable tree to climb and snipe from... He finds one, and begins to climb it after looking around and assuring himself that no one is nearby.

[Krilari]

Camillia plucks a flask of whiskey from her person, taking a few swigs from the silver casing. Afterwards she brings a hand totally grasp the hilt of her blade.

"Time to get to work."

She bound from her perch, clasping to each branch on the way down.

[Beltharean]

Nodding his consent, the Forsaken pushes Tress away from the now-flaming boats, off toward the northern edge of the encampment. They take their place in the midst of a group of prisoners; Tressian's bindings are undone, and he begins to work at doing the same for others nearby. Likely metal shackles, he would attempt to freeze and then shatter them. His Forsaken companion stands guard as he begins to unbind the prisoners. Each would be equipped with a shard of arcane ice to defend themselves.

[Zenethen]

Barregis Jones finds a suitable area to overlook the encampment from atop a tree, and readies his rifle for sniping, his aim following the trail of smoke coming from the ships. He sets the rifle carefully against the tree's branch so that it does not fall, and reaches through his equipment, assembling a small mortar-like object, but more for grenades than mortars. He begins loading smoke, mist, and flashbang grenades into the mortar, each one flying off with no particular accuracy.

After a suitable amount of grenades have been shot off, and he hopes it to trick these people that it's a full-fledged assault, he grabs his rifle and readies his aim, silently picking off any stragglers unwise enough to start going away from the large groups of them. He does check his targets, however, to see whether they are friend or foe, and continually reloads.

(However many stragglers -do- get picked off by sniper fire is up to DM.)