PM to join "So...I could die? And your point?"

[Shadyn]

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82nd of Winter, 515 AV


Shadyn stood amongst the Alvads who were staring at the mysterious door. Many of the more daring ones had entered the previous day. Shadyn might have done so as well...but had decided that given what he had seen going on during his visit earlier this season and since the 60th when he got back...he was more than willing to let someone else take the leap into the unknown.

The door was an oddity...something his time in this city had been slowly getting him accustomed to...but still...this was unusual. And the rules...they were not the sort of thing that welcomed entry.

Except for a harebrained fool like himself.

"Well, Xarrt, you ready to explore?"

Shadyn....are you sure that you want to do this? You have no idea what could happen...

Shadyn shrugged. "Yeah, I know. Let's see...worst case scenario. So...I could die? And your point?"

Xarrt eyed him for a moment, then ruffled his feathers approvingly. Shadyn smiled and led the way towards the door, the people parting in front of him. He waited as an powerfully built Akalak strode through the door, several weapons strapped to his body.

And then he entered. There was a split second sensation of being suspended in space...but it was so minute and brief that he barely registered it before he found himself in the middle of a rather hectic war-camp.

"What the heck is going on here?"

A passing soldier with his arm in a sling gave him a chillingly haunted look. "Undead. Like nothing I have ever even HEARD about...hordes and hordes of them...fighting, killing, swarming the lines....and we don't even know why they are here or where they are coming from! They are...monstrous..." The man shuddered, then walked off abruptly, distractedly...

Shadyn stared for a moment. And then he saw a familiar shadow winging its way over the camp, and he waved him down.

"Xarrt...this is going to be incredible! They are at war with undead....isn't that awesome?!"

Xarrt blinked, apparently not quite sharing his rider's enthusiasm. Okaaaaaaayyyyyyy...sure. Right. So...I a presuming from the stupid grin on your face that you are planning something?

Shadyn stroked the handles of his Talon swords thoughtfully. "Perhaps, Xarrt...perhaps...."
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[Shadyn]

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Xarrt stared on confusedly as Shadyn tossed the contents of a stout supply wagon into the street. [/i]May I ask what you are doing?[/i]

Shadyn hefted another large bundle, invigorated by the exertion. "I decided" -- another heft -- "that my skill with weapons" -- he grabbed and tossed a box onto the growing pile of supplies -- "is far too little for me to be in a full on battle. I like to make my own tactics...not hurry to do orders that I am not comfortable doing. Now, I need to get back to work before someone in charge notices me and drags me into this mess before I'm ready."

Once he finished emptying the wagon, he walked back and forth in the bed of it. It was essentially a box set atop two axels. The wheels were solid oaken disks, made from cross-layered planks; the axels massive wooden posts worn and oiled to a glistening slick shine. He scratched his head, making various gestures with his hands as if pointing things out to himself, then jumped down and began sorting through the goods he had just tossed out of it.

His head popped up as a group of four men approached. The lead one addressed him. "Hey...what are you doing with our supplies?"

Shadyn straightened, his surprise only showing for a moment, then drew himself up to his full height with a ram-rod back and imperious gaze. He didn’t like having to do “official” business in Common…he was a decent orator in Nari, but in Common he had to speak both more simply and more slowly than was preferable. Still, he knew how to pick a good cadence that made his speech seem merely calmly self-possessed rather than haltingly inferior. Hopefully none of these men knew what real quality rhetoric sounded like. It was fortunate he merely needed to play the part of a warrior – which he was, more or less – and not a public official. Simple and straightforward speech would not be considered unusual in these circumstances. "Finally! You are woodworkers here for these woodworking materials, yes?

The man, a stout human in his late fifties and of grizzled appearance, nodded. "Yes, we are. And...you are?"

“A warrior who needs help on a special mission.”

"But we were told -- "

Shadyn waved them off, and decided to add temptation to the ploy. Excitement, adventure, and importance almost always drew men into doing things they otherwise would not do. The promise that they would facilitate a special mission of great value to Alvadas would certainly sway them at least somewhat. He loaded a hefty dose of battle-hungry enthusiasm into his demeanor…which was not terribly hard considering that he himself was greatly anticipating his latest adventure. "This is IMPORTANT! I fight and kill much undead. You help, you play a part in my victory. Now, two of you to take the big saw, cut the wagon in half. Another person to work on using some of the wood from the back part to..." he paused as he thought of the words he was looking for, then decided to stick with what he knew, gesturing to the hitching spars, “make that area stronger.” He waved to the fourth man. “I’m still working on what I need you to do."

Their eyebrows went up, and a few words were exchanged between them before they began moving again. While the first three men started working, the fourth man from the rear with a swarthy complexion and heavily braided sandy brown hair stepped forward. "Excuse me, but I'm not going to be doing any hack-job on some wagon. I'm a shipwright and ship's carpenter, not a wagon maker!"

Shadyn glared at him and stepped closer, his boots making him stand a few inches taller than the man, and his katinu lending him a good deal extra bulk. He made grand, sweeping gestures to emphasize his words. "And you expect to be doing…? Make me a skiff so that I can row, row, row my boat merrily, merrily, merrily into the undead down Alvadas's roads?! Are oars weapons? Or is land things better?! To win must hurry, questions have no time.”

The man -- a Sevfra -- frowned, cast his eyes down, and took a step back. "Right...yes. I'm...sorry."

"Is fine. Mr. Ship’s Carpenter, you work with the ropes. Take the most largest coil…rope coil. Cut off about...ten feet. Cut rest into two parts. Tie big loop at the end of each of those parts. Tie the other end of each to a branch of that –” he pointed to the T spar. “Use the short rope for me to hold onto." Shadyn suppressed a grimace as he realized that he had sped up to much a spoken far more poorly than he liked.

The Sevfra though for a moment, then nodded understandingly. "I see. Two tow lines and a deck line like we use for walking on decks in foul weather...am I right?"

Shadyn smiled, and nodded as if he knew what the man was describing. "Exactly. Now, quickly!” _________________________________________________________________

A little over one bell later, and the last reinforcement board was nailed in place. Shadyn rose from where he had been sitting atop some of the remaining supplies and surveyed the work, Xarrt too striding around the job. This was mostly for show...he knowledge of woodworking was limited to what his logic could deduce. It looked great to him. Xarrt also gave an approving nod. He walked over and gave a curt nod to the men.

"Excellen!. This will do. You do greatness. Finished here...go ahead with the supplies."

The men each gave their own thanks and departed carrying various woodworking supplies and tools. He turned and smiled excitedly to himself at what he had just pulled off. He hadn't been entirely bluffing...after all, being an Endal he had, on occasion, found it necessary to pull rank to settle disputes and complete tasks in his home city. This was only slightly different.

Before Shadyn could leave, however, an angry Isur male strode up to him yelling. "What the petch did you do to my cart?! Do you realize how much this cost?"

Shadyn turned on his heel, and shot his most "annoyed dignitary" look at the Isur. He added an exaggerated sigh before he spoke. "Do YOU realize who you are addressing?"

The Isur stopped in his tracks and eyed Shadyn. A smirk played across Shadyn's lips. Right now he was certain his decorated Endal clothes, noble bearing, and glistening Talon sword handles were playing to his cause. Eventually the man spoke. "No...I don't. Who am I talking to?"

"I am Shadyn (Xarrt). Known from East to West for my deeds. Your wagon for supplies before I saw. Now is chariot for great victory!” Here he stopped, both to let the words sink in, and to mentally translate what he was going to say next to achieve the proper impact. Failing to come up with anything sufficiently powerful in Common, he decided to keep it simple and stick with what he said, which seemed to have impressed the Isur. Either way, he had no intention of waiting for the man to draw him into further conversation one way or the other.

With that said, Shadyn jumped up onto the "chariot," winding the achor rope about one as Xarrt picked up the loops in one swoop and slowly jerked the chariot into motion. He was thankful for thinking about a safety rope...the initial jerks would have thrown him off otherwise.

And then...they were off.
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[Shadyn]

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They picked up speed as they rattled down the streets until Shadyn's katinu was flying straight out behind him. The wind was refreshingly cool...much like it was when flying over the mountains of The Unforgiving in the summer.

People became more sparse as he moved further and further away from the base camp. At first there were whole streets that were bustling with people taking care of various jobs, dashing into doorways and corners as he passed, hurling the occasional invectives at him. Soon, there were only periodic groups of soldiers or armed aid workers. And then...nobody.

It was eerie riding through the war-torn streets, blood splattered and pooling in various locations. He checked the sun's position...they were heading west, and it was still before noon. Doors hung ajar on buildings, revealing ramshackle interiors. A solitary man with a crossbow at his side hurried towards the base camp clutching some household belonging wrapped in a scarf. As Shadyn sped past, all he did was step aside and shoot a dark and haunted glance at him before continuing on his way.

Sounds began drifting to him over the rooftops. Men of various races sounding their war cries...and their cries of pain and death. The clash of arms and armor...the tramp of feet. Other sounds echoed too...many of them from the same area, but others from down alleyways and inside of abandoned structures. Hideous, unholy sounds wrung from the lungs of beings with souls fit only for fiends...if they even had souls.

A shiver coursed through Shadyn's body, his hair standing on end. Some of the sounds were perilously close. The singing of his own pulse rang in his ears...then faded as adrenaline took over. He called out to Xarrt.

"We must be nearing the battle...I'm certain we will encounter our foes soon enough. Whatever you do Xarrt, unless I have fallen from the chariot...DON'T STOP!!"

Sure enough, no sooner had he said this then they rounded a bend to face a group of undead at the other end of the street. Several of them were vaguely human in appearance...perhaps at one time they had been some normal race...but no longer. Rotting bodies morphed into unnatural mutations clutched at various weapons. Further behind them loomed a amorphous mass of sludge -- seemingly composed of nothing more than a living mass of putrid half-liquefied biological material -- bearing a protrusion of something that might have been called one massive arm, and another stump that terminated in a profusion of shattered bones. It sensory capabilities seemed to be derived from the various heads that were lodged in its gelatinous body.

Thus, Shadyn did the only logical thing. He wound his arm around the anchor rope, dropped down behind the front panels of the chariot, and yelled his guts out in a strange mix of dread, excitement, and battle-lust.

The humanoid undead thwacked into the front of the chariot and thumped under the wheels relatively harmlessly. One became stuck on the spar for a moment and drove its guisarme into the wood near Shadyn's head before a bump in the road dislodged it and sent it tumbling under the axel. He realized that having the woodworkers reinforce the front was a wise decision.

His rear-facing view allowed him to watch as the few undead that were not in his path gathered in the middle of the street, some making a futile attempt at pursuit before turning back to their roaming.

As the chariot slammed to a near stop, Shadyn's attention returned to more pressing matters. He felt the chariot creep upwards and forwards as he rode into the sludge monster. He cringed as the "arm" with the bone shards curved over the top of the front panel and drove several of the bones into the bed of the chariot with a resounding crack. It drew back to strike again, but the chariot moved forward far enough to entrap the arm under the chariot. Sludge oozed over the wood around Shadyn and he lept to his feet, no wanting the toxic material even to touch him. The scent of it made his stomach convulse uncontrollably. Muffled, guttural growls and groans came from under the chariot for the next minute or so as Xarrt continued to drag them forward. Eventually, the were free of the monster, having left behind a huge smear and various lumps and masses for about fifty feet. Several of the larger masses still moved...Shadyn wondered if it was even possible to kill such a beast.

As their wheels regained traction, Shadyn ducked down yet again as remnants of the slime were flung into the air by the spinning wheels, waiting until the vile shower was finished before standing again. That was most certainly an unpleasant experience...yet...still...he smiled, drew out one of his Talon swords, and gave a war-whoop as they clattered onward.
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