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Amelia mostly kept her opinions to herself, especially now that her plans of getting any sort of paperwork done and equipment calibration in her office were delayed. In truth, she was fairly curious of the locals, wondering what sort of different cultural and potentially medical discoveries they've made that could separate them from the average human. There's plenty of assumptions and speculations, but considering that its been all but confirmed that a civilization thrived in this planet meant that the possibility of scientific discoveries were almost assured. That said, the orders of simply gathering samples and avoiding the local inhabitants were fairly standard, but that didn't mean much for the medic. She's had her fair share of rougher ops during her time in the Special Forces, so this should be a walk in the park. Of course, she's trying not to jinx anything, but it's quite hard to take a civilization seriously when they're about a millennia or so behind in terms of technology.

Following the team silently to the armory, she made her way to her own locker. Fairly standard affair to be perfectly honest, though she could go for a bit of customization in its appearance. Signing in with her biometrics, the locker hissed and expanded, revealing a tri-fold design that placed her rig at the center and equipment on the side panels. First was the Vanguard-class Rig, customized and calibrated down to the minute pressure for the recoil dampeners and fall compensators. The Rig station moved into place as she stood, fitting the sleek exoskeleton around her. Magnetic locks sealed around her limbs and joints for ease of movement while the helmet wrapped around her head, leaving the face plate open. Meant for protection at all times, the helmet defaults to completely sealing the wearer's head. However, the interlocking plates and locks underneath the smooth surface can usually unfold and compartmentalize to fully expose the head, usually by lightly pressing around the correct sensors in sequence to begin unlocking the helmet itself. Would she do it? Not likely. Years of combat has made it muscle memory to be as armored as possible, especially now with access to the advanced technology Pathfinders are subject to. The jets were the last thing she needed to make sure that were working, mostly by having it rescan her entire body to make sure that proper propulsion was made during any sort of high intensity movement.

The hand grips on her palm briefly hummed, signaling that her neural implants and the Smart Links are ready to calibrate. Grabbing the Thunderbolt, its smart link immediately connected, several prompts appearing in her HUD to show the weapon's current state and tuning itself as it scanned her biometrics. The internal changes of the rifle may seem subtle, but due to its ability to properly suit itself to its user by recognizing behavioral patterns when it comes to handling the gun makes it that more streamlined despite its bulky and heavy appearance. From preparing to eject a magazine and adjusting the position of the slot for ease of reload to the gyroscopic barrel for consistent accuracy in various positions, the Thunderbolt was meant to be the cutting edge rifle for frontline skirmishers. Not to mention the neural targeting software that can accurately predict bullet impact and trajectory at longer ranges makes it unparalleled when it comes to firefights. Once the rifle had finished reorganizing its internal machinery and properly synced into her own neural network, she holstered it onto the magnetic locks on her back.

The Tundra took a longer time to sync and calibrate, thanks to the software that required a full Rig scan in order to prepare for real time adjustments when it came to the high speed maneuvers the Rig was equipped to accomplish. Choking the barrel, turning on the positional correction and gyroscopic sensors to adjust the barrel for a full 360 degrees of freedom in all directions when fired required a bit of time to perform, but it wasn't particularly long. Compact and sleek, the Tundra was holstered onto her right thigh for ease of access, her mag locks clicking.

The SLG-50 Predator was the final weapon, the massive pistol requiring very little maintenance thanks to its simplistic design. To most people, the recoil was unbearable without a Rig, and even then, recoil compensators were needed to accurately fire this pistol. Holstered to her left thigh should it be necessary as a fallback weapon.

With her weapons ready, she loaded up her standard medical supplies in her wrist compartment. Thank god that they were fairly minimalistic in size or else she'd have to carry a bag around while zipping in the air. Same goes with her ordinance for the Halo trophy system on her right shoulder, each loaded into the compartment where the third arm can load itself with the proper grenade using mental commands.

When her systems gave the go ahead, her entire rig hummed and glowed a dim sapphire glow, silencing itself once she began to walk over to the rest of her team, making secondary checks on medical supplies and sample equipment just in case she missed anything. "All ready on my end," she said, giving a lazy two-finger salute.
 
Kita listened quietly to what Dylan said back to him.

The elevator began to descend as Kita spoke, and Dylan couldn't help but grin at his bubbly excitement. "Guess we'll know in due time," he said. "Who knows? If these aliens are in their medieval period, they probably don't even know what cancer is, or have any knowledge of more advanced medicine aside from rubbing herbs on wounds."

Still, he frowned as Kita shared some of the many concerns he had. "I've kind of been thinking the same thing, but..." he crossed his arms. "Drones take too long to become operational, and you've seen how it is with the PACC. Sending us in was the best bet they had, given how we've been trained for this, and we're the fastest method to getting at least some idea of the situation we're dealing with better than any drone. For now, though, we'll just have to see how it goes. We stick to standard operating procedures for the time being, until we get an update, at least."

With a shrug of acceptance, Kita took to remaining silent. The elevator stopped, and he followed everyone out and into the armory. It was spacious and packed with high-tech, and most certainly, expensive gear. With practiced steps, Kita went about his preparatory routine and walked to his station. Kita performed the quick thumb, and retinal scan then punched in his passcode. The locked compartment whooshed as the pressurized and airless room began filling with air. Once complete, the door automatically parted, revealing Kita's custom rig, a High-Performance Body Enhancing Combat Power Armour (HPBE-CPA). It was a mouthful to say, so Kita referred to it as his CPA. The sleek, futuristic, familiar look of the suit made Kita smile fondly. He had spent many hours customizing this piece, and he had paid considerable money to have engineers and mechanics upgrade it. He saw it the same way he saw his first car: with fondness and protectiveness.

Kita finished a cursory scan of his suit and found nothing out of place. He took off his jacket and hung it on a hook inside the compartment, leaving him only in his cyro-suit. Kita opened up a drawer in the compartment and took out a bit more casual, comfortable, but professional clothing. He went to the bathroom and changed. As he returned, he laid a hand on his CPA, causing the armor to scan his hand and identify his vitals. When Kita was allowed access, the suit opened up along the arms, legs, chest, and face. All Kita had to do was turn around and backstep into the rig. he did so, and as soon as he did, the suit closed itself, leaving him sealed inside.

"Welcome back, Pathfinder Kita," resounded a machine voice inside his head. Kita smiled, "thank you kindly, love." It had taken him a while to get the suit's AI to call him Kita. The AI was only able to perform certain functions. They were nowhere near Katerina's level of intelligence, but he still personified it and gave it a feminine voice that spoke only in French and Japanese, much to Kita's delight. She also understood English but didn't speak it. Kita named her love, and she only answered to the equivalent English, Japanese, and French words.

As the suit had encased Kita inside, the lights and his HUD powered on, and he walked out of the compartment into the main armory area. Kita looked left and right, and seeing enough space; he began stretching inside the suit. While stretching, he had his suit's camouflage system take on the hue of his surroundings, causing the suit to mirror the room and moving with Kita, making his armor blend with the environment but not overtly so. When he was satisfied everything was in working order and acclimated to the suit, Kita walked back to the compartment and keyed open his weapons locker.

Swiftly, Kita grabbed his katanas and attached them to his back in a crisscrossed fashion. Next, he grabbed his pistol and Izanagi sniper rifle, a personal favorite of his. The red dragon chibi on the side bobbled as he moved the rifle. At the moment, having his sniper rifle on him was more necessary than either his automatic rifle or coilgun; those were for different situations, and now, his team already had enough mid-rangers, and they had no need, yet, for his coilgun. He magnetically attached his pistol to his left thigh and rifle onto his back, as he had his swords. Kita rolled his neck and arms. He looked around the compartment and at his HUD, then nodded to himself. With one final look, he exited.

Stepping out of the compartment, Kita locked the door and put up the previous security measures. Once finished, he walked to the science station, grabbed sample-making supplies and some packaged snacks — his water canteen was already full — then pocketed them in his suit's small storage spaces. Checking himself one last time, Kita confirmed that he was ready.

Alright, let's do this. Kita turned to Dylan awaiting his lead.


Interactions: Corrosion Corrosion
 
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"Lady Elanna and I shall work on notifying the court and the college, the rest of you should prepare. We will be leaving in due time... for what I hope with be a peaceful encounter. If there are any changes or new visions, we shall notify you."

Corel nodded, gesturing toward Estella and mouthed a question at her "I'm going. You?" He asked, waiting for her reply before heading off to get his own gear. Cain and Elyscia seemed to have already expressed an interest, so a gang of 4, especially with some prominent spellcasters made them a viable threat. Heading to the Wayfarer's own barracks, he began emptying out his own belongings from a personal chest. He had only been wearing an old tunic, but this situation seemed to warrant a more serious outfit. He pulled over a reliable set of leather armour, and his lucky jacket over the top, the fraying fur around it's edges protesting at it's use again. Might be time to visit a tailor at some point. A hassle at this point, the jacket had several hand stitched runes of illusion magics weaved into the fabric, some of his finest work, and a real pain to replicate.

He also ensured to grab his bow, giving the string a satisfactory pull to ensure it was still taught enough for use, and hid the areas with a simple invisibility charm. Would these things even fall for his tricks, or would they have some way around them? He pushed the concern deep down for now. Best to focus what he could control, and how they were going to approach this potential threat. Head on? Deception? Hide and wait for them to make the first move? Maybe Elyscia would have a strategy in mind. He began making his way back towards her.

Mentions: Corrosion Corrosion (Elyscia) JoUhWrites JoUhWrites (Cain) Pseudo-nim Pseudo-nim (Estella)
 
Time to carve up, I suppose.

Giving way under the sharpness of the knife, Hazel carved free the pelt from the Great Izuchi she had slain only moments prior. It was a lesser beast, but that didn't make it any less of a concern to the guild. Hazel had been stationed out in the Tunmond Wood for some time now; it seems that in the past month or so the endemic life had been jostled by a number of invasive species migrating down from who the fuck knows where--or even why. She was sent out since she was among the better Monster Hunters in the guild, as opposed to the more anti-personnel hunters or social workers of the guild. Still, there were some solid contenders showing up: a Rathalos, Zinogre, and a Chameleos all in this week alone. It was only Nioday!

"Why out here though?" Hazel thought out loud.

Before their bodies finally ran dry, each monster--without fail--would always retreat out to this meadow along the Amcaster River. Looking out, Hazel could see a number of carcasses from the past few days she'd carved up. The guild was to be sending transports to get the damn things out of the way--the place was starting to smell like death--but it's been some time. If it was clearer, Hazel might've made an effort to figure out what was drawing them out here--maybe. As curious as she was, she couldn't imagine where to begin in that regard. Not that she was super worried about it anyway. It wasn't like an elder dragon was fit to show up. She shrugged her thoughts off and continued to carve up her Great Izuchi, maybe she could use the tail for something.

I'm sure it'll be fine.
 
He measured restraint at the prospect of battering Kita's incessant babbling with some lurid repartee though curbed his inclination of hampering the nimble-witted scientist's excitement due to relating some semblance of the enraptured passion to pleasures of his own. Dubravko was eager to conduct his duties as a Pathfinder and found excitement therein, thus he partially admired the sniper-scientist for his winding exuberance. Regardless, he ignored Kita's inviting glance for conversation and left the elevator swiftly, venturing into the Armoury with the other Pathfinders.

"Well, let's gear up and get ready to deploy. Don't wanna keep the shuttle waiting." to which Dubravko signaled his compliance with a brief nod, switching his ever-attentive glare to a specific locker. It was nothing extraordinary except for it being a Tolstovian variant made suitable for Pathfinder application via a complicated integration process of components that exchanged all manual parts for automatic ones. In fact, it was a testament to his engineering skill as a Pathfinder. When Dubravko failed his training the first time this project was his ticket into rejoining for another attempt. He sauntered over to his personal armoury which was installed beside Katyusha's and commenced the incumbent process of gearing up.



Dubravko was harsh in outfitting himself, with rigid movements and stern grips accompanied by methodical yet swift pulls and yanks. He took out a collapsed HUSMER and engaged it, strapping on the Rig and letting it bloom across his body in a series of mechanical resonations and machine-like whirring. Dubravko retrieved further kit such as advanced webbing that allocated space for housing ammunition and engineering/robotic constructs and utensils as well as recce patrol equipment. A daysack brimming with repair kits and technological components was shrugged on via shoulder straps. He cleared his throat while attaching a personalized helmet to a rung on his backpack so that it fitted snug atop his webbing. He then snatched up his armament; an LJ-21 bullpup rifle and CBIW defense pistol. He clipped on a sling to the LJ-21 and performed a mandatory weapons check. Physically feeling the safety catch, cocking back the handle, pushing down on the breach holding lever, inspecting the chamber, conducting forward assist, then operating the trigger. CHK! All fine. Safety on. Dubravko would then load a 60-round magazine into the rifle and charge the cocking handle. He performed a similar check on his pistol, holstering it on his upper torso before affixing grenades to the straps of his webbing, shoved binoculars into their housing, clipped a shovel to his belt then shut the locker with a slam. He packed rations to spare and other field-related articles. Finally, Dubravko retrieved an old Tolstovian Ranger boonie and adjusted it accordingly.

He revolved to face the Pathfinder squad, keeping the stock of his bullpup rested on his hip; barrel pointed up. His left hand gripped the belt of his webbing and a dim shadow was cast over his features - his eyes concealed beneath the brim of his hat. He then wondered out loud if anyone had a cigarette?
 
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The rest of Alpha was in the process of gearing up, and while he waited for them to finish, Dylan decided to do an inspection on the Grapple attached to his left arm. He readied it, the device deploying and the hook designed to attach to just about any solid surface emerging as a panel unfolded. This device was designed for rapid mobility, and the hook could be fired via a high-pressure pneumatic mechanism with a range of up to a hundred metres, which was also the length of hyper-tensile carbon-graphene nanocomposite cable attached to the hook. The cable was coiled inside the Grapple and ready to be deployed at a moment's notice.

He'd gotten quite good with it during training and field tests, and found it very useful to get to places out of reach of his Rig's boost jets. It could also be used to pull targets towards him such as supplies or equipment, and, in theory, could also pull living targets, though he had never tried it before. Apparently, Grapples had been used in covert operations to stealthily snap the necks of unsuspecting hostiles from afar. Dylan was a tad bit uncomfortable with that prospect.

The young Pathfinder had just finished final inspections on his equipment when Kate came up to him. He paused to look down at her, given her short height (Vance was still even shorter, of course). If he was being honest, she kind of gave him to creeps. Kate just seemed to be emotionless half the time, speaking in a monotone and a blank expression. Her eyes hardly seemed to have any life in them, either. Dylan had read her personal files, as he should have given how he was team lead, and it just contained a whole lot of redactions and black ink. Something that did seem to be interesting was her affiliation with the Kalashnikov Concern, which was a little bit odd.

Still, she was part of his team, and that meant something.

Dylan nodded. "Understood," he told her. Next to him, R3X only tilted his head as Kate leaned down towards him, before barking once.

"Woof!" It was a reply in the form of an encrypted databurst, which told Kate his designation and function as an advanced multipurpose survey platform. R3X also took a moment to sniff the robot on Kate's shoulder.

Dylan only chuckled and gave his robotic canine companion a quick scratch behind the ears. R3X gave a soft whine at that.

Now the rest of Alpha had finished gearing up. They were all equipped with various different weapons, equipment, and Rigs that suited their purpose within the team.

With everyone ready, Dylan nodded at them and spoke. "All right, do some final kit checks and get ready to move," he said. "I want to be on that shuttle and heading planetside in five."

He suddenly remembered something, and he reached into one of the pouches on his kit before pulling out a bar wrapped in nanocellulose plastic. "Oh, and ration bars, guys," he said. "Not exactly the ideal first meal after fourteen—err, twelve weeks of cryo, but we gotta make do. Eat up, we need those calories."

The ration bars we're standard for field operatives, being extremely calorie-dense and yet compact and lightweight. A single bar was enough to provide a day's worth of nutrients. And it was very important, too, given how humans going into cryostasis were required to have empty stomachs to prevent any... less than pleasant effects that included stomach ruptures.
 
Filo rolled her eyes. "Oh come now, what could possibly be worse than potentially hostile, otherworldly beings that possess incredibly advanced technology being called here by an old fool's grandiose sense of purpose?" She asked, crossing her arms.

Perhaps she shouldn't jinx things, but oddly enough she could think of a few ways things could be much, much worse. If Lady Elanna foresaw any of them happening, the guild master seriously doubted their ability to survive. Still, they needed to know more, and if these intruders were a threat who arrived on this world in the name of conquest, then they needed to be stopped.

The premonitions that Elanna received were but visions of possible futures, futures that could be averted. If a future that saw the world ravaged by these otherworldly intruders, then that was a future they needed to prevent at all costs.

She could only hope that they were peaceful. The vision hardly told much, but these foreigners seemingly establishing a settlement of some sort in Arcadia intrigued her. Perhaps these foreigners were explorers or settlers, just as how humans had spread across the known world in those tales thousands of years ago.

That was enough dwelling for now, however. These intruders could be arriving at any time, and now was not the time to debate with herself.

Filo looked over the assembled team of Wayfarers before her, and took a breath. "Come now, children," she said. "It's time. Gather around me."

Elyscia and the other Wayfarers did as they were told, all of them surrounding the guildmaster.

"Are you all ready?" Filo asked. "This... may be a tad bit different from the usual kinds of teleportation you are certainly used to by now."

"How different, if I may ask?" Elyscia asked.

Filo only grinned, before speaking. "You'll see," she turned to her familiar. "Miko, if you will."

The large moth chirped, before it flew a little higher in the air. Then it suddenly split into a swarm of smaller insects which surrounded the party completely. The swarm enveloped them for a few more moments, before dissipating, and when it did, the Wayfarers were gone.


The door to the expansive Hangar Bay 01 slid open, and the Pathfinders of Team Alpha came through. The hangar was a large and spacious area, cavernous in design with a high ceiling and a wide space. This area held all sorts of vehicles for the Far Passage's colonisation process, and there were already a number of technicians and engineers milling around the hangar to prep the vehicles to operational status.

Towards the end of the hangar bay was a massive HLTS-27 Orca Heavy Cargo Shuttle, a massive metal beast just shy of a hundred metres designed to ferry tons of cargo and materials from the ship to the planet surface to provide the supplies needed to establish the colony. The Far Passage had two of these, the other one being held within Hangar Bay 02. For now, it was unneeded, and so it remained motionless, now only being surrounded by a handful of crew performing maintenance on it.

Team Alpha made their way through the hangar bay, past the crew who gave them looks of admiration, astonishment, and envy as they passed. A few of them saluted. It was fairly common whenever a Pathfinder or a whole team of them passed by.

The destination of the Pathfinders was just up ahead. Sitting on a landing pad and all prepped and ready was a single grey ATS-54 Wyvern Utility Transport Shuttle, the cargo ramp on its belly lowered. It was a large bird some twenty-five metres in length with two pairs of stubby wings that allowed for atmospheric flight, and also contained a jumpjet in each, allowing it vertical take-off and landing (VTOL).

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Standing by the craft's ramp was a rather young-looking woman of East Asian descent, dressed in a flight suit with a helmet tucked underneath her shoulder.

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She perked up as soon as she heard the team approaching, giving them a smile and wave. "So, you must be the Pathfinders I keep hearing so much about."

Dylan nodded. "Guess so," he said. "I'm Dylan. I lead Pathfinder Team Alpha."

The woman looked at each of the Pathfinders, before giving an impressed whistle. "Well, from the looks of it, you guys already look the part," she said. "I'm Shen, but you probably already know that I answer to the callsign Icarus 1-1. I'm the pilot of this bird right here, and I've been assigned to you."

"Good to know," said Dylan with a nod.

Shen grinned. "Well then, what are you waiting for?" She asked. "You ready to head out?"

"Venturing to an unknown world straight out of cryo?" Dylan asked. "Just what we trained for."

The team entered the shuttle's passenger compartment and secured themselves into the seats that lined each side, while Shen made her way to the cockpit and planted herself in the pilot's seat, putting her helmet on. "Initiating drop sequence... docking clamps engaging."

There was a dull thump outside as a set of magnetic clamps were affixed to the craft, lifting it off the ground as the ground below seemed to split open. Spinning warning lights around the pit were shining red. The Wyvern was then lowered downwards, until it stopped just above another door. The one above slid shut, and the one below opened, revealing the vacuum of space outside the ship and the planet down below.

"Ten seconds to drop," Shen announced.

Dylan took a breath, taking another look at his team. The rest of them, with the exception of Vance, were all already seasoned Pathfinders. He was still a rookie in many ways, even if he had gone through this countless times during training. This was his first real planetary drop as a Pathfinder, however. He pursed his lips and glanced at Grissom. "And here we go..."

Shen's voice came through the Wyvern's internal speakers. "Disengaging in three... two... one."

There Wyvern was suddenly jettisoned downwards, launching out of the ship. Immediately, the sensation of freefall overcame the passengers aboard the shuttle as it shot towards the planet at a dozen kilometres per second. Once it was clear of the Far Passage, the Wyvern's primary hybrid thrusters activated, and it screamed towards the planet.

And so began the first step in a journey that would change both worlds forever.

The Tunmond Wood was mostly silent, aside from the quiet chirping of birds in the branches above and the sound of rushing water from the nearby Amcaster River. This lush woodland was a haven for wild animals, and also hunters from the nearby villages and even the occasional Wayfarer. Of course, it was also home to several monstrous creatures, which was why Wayfarers were also commonly dispatched to deal with them.

In a clearing, there suddenly came a swarm of insects, all circling around and area for a few moments, before flying away. The party of Wayfarers had been deposited in the middle, courtesy of their guildmaster.

Elyscia took a moment to compose herself. "Well, that was... um... a unique experience."

Filo grinned. "I told you so," she said, before turning her nose up in disgust. "Gods, what is that smell?"

The young Paladin sniffed the air a few times. "It smells like death," she said, looking around. "Oh, that's why."

Around them were the carcasses of around a dozen slain monsters. All of them seemed to have been killed in various ways, though most seemed to have met their end by a blade. Elyscia frowned. "It seems like an adventurer is behind this," she said, turning to Filo. "Guildmaster, did you send anyone here to deal with the monsters?"

Filo shrugged, Miko resting on her shoulder. "Well, there was a notice requesting the aid for a Monster Hunter a few weeks ago, and I believe a Wayfarer accepted it. I'm not sure who, though."

Miko suddenly perked up, chirping, but it seemed to be ignored as Elyscia spoke. "I suppose it's not out of the ordinary."

The moth chirped again, louder this time. "Yes, there has been an infestation here, but I don't know who it could be. There are many Monster Hunters within the guild, after all."

Miko seemed to be getting frustrated, chirping even louder and fluttering its wings. "Hmm, then perhaps we must be prepared to face the intruders and the monsters."

Filo's familiar finally had enough. It took flight and flew right in front of Filo's face, much to her surprise. "Gods, Miko!" She exclaimed. "What's gotten you so worked up?"

The moth gave an annoyed chirp, before turning to its side. Both Filo and Elyscia turned to where Miko was facing, and now saw the Wayfarer Guild's resident expert Monster Hunting tiefling, Hazel.

"Oh, it's you," Filo said, waving to her. "Care to join us?"
 
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"What the fuck is that noise?" Hazel perked up from where she sat, having slain a Volvidon that had rolled through and into the plateau.

Looking out into the field, she'd found a swarm of moth-like creatures had engulfed the southern half of the plains. Moving to meet it, the swarm slowly dissipated, revealing a great deal of adventurers who'd been dropped off near her. So they were Flickerwisps. She was still some ways away from the group, so it didn't surprise her when they didn't regard her. Except for one, larger Flickerwisp left behind by the swarm. It swirled around her before zipping to points in her vision, seemingly observing her. Hazel brought her hand up to its level, and for a moment it decided to take respite there. She brought her other hand up, taking a finger to its head; just above the mandibles. She ran her finger up and over, across its spine and between its wings. Hazel couldn't say she knew it was enjoyable to the Flickerwisp, but her Wirebugs enjoyed it so she was confident that she probably wasn't pissing the thing off. Though, it quickly left her side, moving to make a racket to the guild. They still hadn't noticed her, and if that Flickerwisp didn't make it a point to get in their faces they probably wouldn't've for some time.

"Oh, it's you," It was Guildmistress Cawnes. Hazel couldn't help but frown. What the fuck does that mean? "Care to join us?"

"I have a name you know," Hazel pointed. Did she forget she'd stationed someone out here? Obviously. Otherwise-- "and what I would care to do, is find out why you haven't sent a transport crew to take care of this mess. Seriously the grass is dying from all the blood being spilled; if on the off chance any Elder Dragons show up, that's on you at this point."

It smelled like war and death out here, and that was attractive to some extremely powerful beings; powerful beings she didn't want to be placating to. It happened once before, and it didn't end up well for her: at least, I don't think it did. Sighing and crossing her arms, she rotated the topic around.

"Alright then. I see you didn't bring any carts, and I don't imagine you want blood to get caught up in your Flickerwisps. In that case, why are you actually out here? I take it Lady Elanna saw something more dangerous wandered out here?"

The second she closed her mouth though, a thought crossed her mind. That doesn't make sense. Some of the more dangerous monsters had shown up already at this point, all felled by her blade. Yeah, these were prime conditions for an Elder Dragon to show up, but unless they were here a week in advance Hazel would've noticed the signs and sent for more people herself.


What the fuck is going on here?

Corrosion Corrosion StarryKnights StarryKnights
 
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Grissom remained silent during the walk to the dropship. He stood close to Dylan and gave the pilot a silent nod as she introduced herself. Once he had finished talking with the pilot Grissom brushed past her. "Try not to make it as bumpy," he said with a wink and a grin before loading up into the aircraft. Once he was seated and secured he looked at Dylan just as the ship began to shudder and shake in preparation for its launch.

He pursed his lips and glanced at Grissom. "And here we go..."

Grissom smirked. "Just like training sir, just like training." That said Grissom pulled down his visor and steadied himself in his seat. As much as he hated to admit it he absolutely hated this part of spaceborne deployment. Then again, he much more preferred deploying from space via dropship than one of those cramped High-Altitude Mobility Reinforcement pods. That and he trusted the wits and skills of a human pilot than the programming of some dumb and slaved HAMR pod-AI.

"Hold onto your helmets, boys and girls," muttered Grissom as the ship began its descent.
 
Cain

"I’m assuming breakfast is out of the question, then.” Cain sighed wistfully whilst pressing one large hand against his own stomach, where the displeased growling of doom had started to give way to a pleading, hungry one. Cain’s still-foggy mind started to wander onto grilled sausages and soft gruel - until he shifted on the spot and felt something squishy against the sole of his foot. Growl. Yeah, skipping breakfast would probably have been a good idea even if the Wayfarers were not about to go take care of a god-knows-what situation.

The other half-elf had already moved towards the barracks, and Cain took that as his cue to get ready as well (he’d already offended his poor companions’ nostrils enough).
A quick bucket-rinse and a mouthful of ash and peppermint later, Cain managed to get his hair to cooperate again, and he followed that enormous victory with a swig of what remained from last night’s ale - pouring the rest out on the stone floor as a quick go-in-peace to the deceased magicians (whose names Cain had never bothered to learn, damn). He gently re-wrapped his arms in the soft straps of leather, wriggled his way into the larger pieces, and finished by throwing the forest green Haori across his shoulders. It probably took longer than necessary - when Cain strolled back onto the courtyard, sword sheathed across his back, Corel had already returned, and the Wayfarers were once again huddled close - but if Cain got one more comment about his
booze-smelling self, he’d probably spontaneously combust. “You coming with, Cracks?”, He sent the comment in the direction of Teman (making sure to keep a wide berth of his cane - that shit hurt when the old man was in the mood to swing it), before lazily positioning himself with the rest of his guildmates.

~

Cain hated bugs. Hated them, so when Filo’s moth familiar suddenly exploded into hundreds of the little fluttery beings, he couldn’t stop himself from uselessly swatting at one who threatened to come a little too close to his face.
Thankfully the swarm dispersed before Cain could cause any more offense to his team by squashing one of the mage’s beloved insects. What replaced the flurry of wings was not much better though; a greening where the stench of rot was carried on the soft breeze, the buzzing of feasting insects interrupting what would otherwise have been a peaceful forest serenade. Well, peaceful if one ignored the absolute massacre they’d ended up on top of.
Hey, Horns.” The tiefling seemed to be the one responsible for the pile of corpses, seeing as she was covered in their guts (how some Wayfarers actually enjoyed the solitary monster-slaying-and-butchering missions was inexplicable to Cain). “Don’t tell me you missed the date for our annual camping trip. It’s a beloved tradition, y’know.” He preferred to leave the actual explaining of things to others. Not because he didn't fully comprehend what was going on. He totally did. Runes. Strangers. A summoning. Crystal clear. "But other than that; Filo, care to explain to Horns what's going on?"

Mentions: welian welian (Mr. Joint-Cracks), Corrosion Corrosion , Yakov011001 Yakov011001 , Arai Arai
 
Corel

Corel nodded a greeting in Hazel's direction, avoiding the carcasses that were left in the area. The Tiefling was definitely one of the more combat oriented members of the wayfarers, but sometimes you just really needed to hit a nail with a hammer. What interactions Corel had with her usually involved some kind of tracking or trap setting on his behalf, followed by her slashing her way through whatever beast deigned to show up.

"There's a...something...touching down here in a little bit. I'll fill you in on details later, but right now I think our time is better suited to preparation," the half elf suggested, pointing to the clearing. "It's not a dragon," He quickly added, trying to cut off that line of thought before Hazel would ask. "But it is a flying beast, and it'll have...people in it?" He shrugged. "I don't know Hazel we really seem to be playing this one as it happens,"

The area they had appeared in was a clearing of sorts, presumably because whatever was arriving needed a large area to land. Though he'd rather they be friendly, Corel was certainly understanding of the possibility of a fight breaking out rather quickly. As such, he began moving to the edge of the forest, weaving his arms in the air, his signature orange runes popping to life. Before long, he had created a small illusionary treeline, that would allow them to observe without being seen. Any other tricks he wished to save for the actual arrival. "That should be a safe enough spot to hide behind," He suggested, dusting off his hands. "Unless we wanted to tackle this diplomatically first?"

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Kita followed the team through Hanger Bay 01 and was subjected to more gawking from crewmembers; some even cheered. None of this surprised Kita who had walked this path plenty of times already. He cared little for the other people in the hanger and chose to study the vehicles parked inside instead. The team was headed in the direction of an ATS-54 Wyvern Utility Transport Shuttle; a standard class of transport Kita was familiar with. As they approached, Kita got a first look at their pilot. She was pretty on the eyes and perked up as everyone approached. Dylan and Shen — who she identified herself as — began conversing while Kita waited anxiously teetering from side to side. Come, hurry up the introductions and let's get going...

A light bulb went off in Kita's head as he remembered something. He muted himself to the outside and said out loud, "Hey, love?" "Yes, Pathfinder Kita?" "Please startup my games program." As soon as he finished his sentence a screen popped up displaying games he could play. "Let me know when the conversation wraps up and everyone boards" "As you wish, Pathfinder Kita." Kita smiled and began playing a popular strategy game while the others talked.

Shen grinned. "Well then, what are you waiting for?" She asked. "You ready to head out?"

"Venturing to an unknown world straight out of cryo?" Dylan asked. "Just what we trained for."

"The others are about to board sir." Kita's concentrated face morphed into a small smile, "Thanks, love." He followed the others abroad and took his seat close to the pilot and resumed his game. The transport's engine flared to life and Kita felt a small kick. He gave a wide grin as his concentration broke. Aliens, here we come...
 
Candle stomped through the forest, searching for Hazel.
She knew that Hazel could take care of herself, but heading out to fight swarms of monsters all on your own was still not the best decision. It was always possible that there was a bigger monster than you expected, or you made a mistake and hurt yourself. Candle had been with the Wayfarers for a long time, she'd known more than one competent adventurer that had died thanks to 'lone wolfing'. Hazel may or may not appreciate Candles appearance here, but when she'd heard that a lone Wayfarer had gone off on her own on a job, she'd decided that it was her duty to make sure they weren't resting in a monsters belly. Candle had just finished a job herself, and had been on her way back to head quarters. But that could wait.

She'd walked all night to get here. A fringe benefit of being almost a zombie trapped in a suit of wax encased armor was you didn't need to sleep. She'd kept the candles on her spaulders and helmet lit, both for light, and for the rejuvenating effect they had on her body. Now it was day, but she still let the candles burn. She felt better when they were lit.

She smelled the blood long before she saw it. Dead monsters littered the forest. Hazel was doing good work. Candle followed the trail of corpses until she came to a clearing. There, she spotted Hazel, as well as a fair number of other adventurers. Her eyebrows rose into her hairline. It seems she'd been given bad info. Hazel wan't alone. Candle was about to turn around. If Hazel was alright, there wasn't anything more to do here. But then she noticed that one of the individuals was the Headmistress herself.

Another member of the guild she recognized as Corel waved a hand in the air, creating an illusionary forest that hid the adventurers. What in the world was going on? From Hazels posture she hadn't been expecting the others either. Candle approached the group, head on. With her armor, and bright light of her candles, it was nearly impossible to be stealthy anyway.

"Hail. Headmistress." She said in a low voice, joining them in the illusion. "What's going on? I didn't realize you'd be here."

The others had varying expressions of nervousness or annoyance on their faces. Worried something was amiss, Candle drew her warhammer, though she didn't light the candles on it.
 

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