Bracing For The Storm

[*SyntheticRose]

Once she has recovered from her little solo expedition, safely in the tents of the war camp, a certain frosted witch can be seen poking about the camp. She's looking in the supply tents, and, if asked, proudly declares that she is seeking the as-yet-elusive 'salt-assault suits,' and explain that Sir Half-of-Dyce had mentioned that she needs one, to protect herself from a repeat of the circumstances of her arrival!

Just who 'Sir Half-of-Dyce' actually ~is~, would be anyone's guess!

_{((OOC: I have bought a mask from Toil, in game. Is this what I need? ))}

[*Taurus Daggerknight]

\\ Yeah, I think either the mask or suit will work.

[*SyntheticRose]

(( OOC: Right. Just, getting one from the camp makes more sense ICly at this point. So she's looking there. Just mentioned that in-game, I have spent the gold and have the item in question. ))

[*Krayt]

Close to the Doomguard's Tower of Salt.

Some time after the meeting with the assembly encampment in the plane of salt where the engineers had alredy begun to dig a acidic moat. If they would be ready in time remained to be seen.

The Ship of Chaos hoovered over the white salt storm. Having a second meeting with the captains of the Doomfleet that would participate the strategy was set. Driven wild with hunger for destruction the ship tossed and turned restlessly and bellowed demonic howls that dwarfed the roaring storm in the desloate waste.

"Get the vessels into positions and await the advent battle. Once we dominate the skies we have to adjust the board piece by piece." Mauric said adamantly.

Communication stones was sent to Dace and each commander of the vessels involved.

[*Mausman]

*Kelth glanced at the blade in awe, spinning it skillfully in hand and readying his stance. Vale had given it to him in trust and confidence. To ride on back of dragon and attempt to slay alongside of Dace? Pride swelled in his heart as he began to familiarize himself with the blade*

[*Ambiguous Ruin]

Corny, a relatively recent returnee to the business of Mnemur Scrolls. He used to be in the center of things, although he had always maintained a low profile and need to know basis approach to it. The scrolls had left a mark in him as well, not one he had mentioned to others, even to the extents of pushing those that cared of him away, for their safety.

He had been part of briefings by Kelth and Dace both, only Dace knew his intents even though perhaps they hoped that he had managed to turn his mind around. Corny didn't waste time to convince Dace, the altruism made them a good person, but unsuited to plan for matters of this scale in his mind. "It's suicide" they had proclaimed, perhaps without realizing Dace had just given the general job description he went by daily. Only the job mattered, and in war casualties were unavoidable, altruism never kept people alive and too much caution creates more.

Beneath the mirthful jests was a more calculative mind, where others had the fighting spirit and certainty of victory. Figures, the would be heroes and their glory, honor and spirits. No, war was never pretty, it was never glorious, there was no honor in it, Corny understood this. Hundreds would die, and nothing was certain with so many questionmarks floating in the air, definitely not with the amount of guesses these people were making. Yet the same people would be some he'd have to count on to do their job, just as he'd do his... to even the odds while others claimed their fame and glory as blood and sweat of others was spilled. Such was the way of things always.

Entering the plane of Salt had been about as pleasant as could be expected. Hours and hours of preparations had gone in place prior to that to gather all the necessary equipment to guarantee a mission success. While the coalition was busy preparing on their passive defensive style, he went along to do what he did best. Infiltrate the enemy army and wait for a right moment to strike... finding a straggler cultist to murder without a second thought outside their camp, take their identity and get among the enemy. In many ways, the enemy had always been more of his friend than others anyway, so this suited him fine. There he waited for his chance.

[*Itsuyashi]

Upon resting within the manor as Dace requested, getting his mind and body prepared for the final day, Itsuyashi dons the armor he once wore long ago, before he abandoned the way of the sword. With the help of a certain someone, the straps are tightened upon his armor, clasping it tight around him. His entire body covered protectively from head to toe. Within the workshop, he took a few deep breaths before giving a firm nod, and started walking towards the exit of the estate. As he reached the door, he unlocked the door, turning the knob, taking that step outside before he locked it behind him. The protective wards humming to life as he activated them.

His trek towards the salt plane seemed to last an eternity when he walked the streets of Sigil, and into the Bottle & Jug bar, opening the portal and jumping through it. He did not know yet that Miranda offered quite a bit of supplies and other assistive measures like the Golems in support of the war effort. Arriving finally at the outpost, he noted there were quite a lot of new boxes, and a lot more golems around, before he received the note within the command tent. As he read the note, he could not help but smile. That little piece of paper giving him even more hope that the day will be victorious. After examining the golems in question, he issued them orders to mingle in with the defense troops that need protection and support in each specialty branch aside the Covert Ops, letting out orders to adapt to their formations and movement. After he saw Moon talking with the artificers, he approaches him, showing the note that Miranda gave Itsu as he grinned quite widely.

" Sixth promise I have to keep, well...Lets make sure we get back alive, or else we will suffer Miranda's wrath, and the wrath of many others. To be fair...I am afraid of that woman, especially now that she is pregnant. So let us give Kakos Kruphai the beating he will never forget ! "

As he reaches to place a hand on Moon's shoulder, he gave a determined, hopeful look and nod. Afterwards, he took his water-skin, draining it into him, and heads to the position he was issued to take among the troops, waiting, watching and observing, knowing that this was a battle that shall decide the fate of Sigil, and the planes in general. He drew his katana, and a piece of metal, and started sharpening it up before they are engaged, lettin the rest of the group prepare in their own way.

[*Mausman]

*Kelth sits at the table in his Hive-placed longhouse. The candles on the table lit, a large meal stalled over it. The door of entrance is open. Those who call theirselves allies would know they are welcome to dine with him before the march to salt..*



*Vale knocks and enters, being offered a seat by Kelth. The streets of the Hive smell of delicious food and every now and then, some runts come to ask for some scraps, which Kelth gives willingly.


Vale and Kelth dine together and for the first time, open up to another about loss and pain. Perhaps the notion of possible death looming and it's meaning for both men, steadying their friendship even more. *



* Time passes on and Quinn arrives with Altair, shortly after, Vyse and Gunther...the wee longhouse is being filled slowly. People eating together and sharing that last moment before the dire hour strikes*


*As Quinn informs the group that the gathering is starting, Kelth leaves notes for Isania and Kara with a map, just in case, where to gather up.

Kelth proceeds to draw warpaint on his own face, claw-shaped in blue, over his eyes. Vyse receives a warpaint in shape of wolf, delicate, in blue, making the warm-hearted bard look downright menacing. Gunther, Vyse's Wolf, receives three claw-marks in blue along it's snout.

Quinn receives drawing of Falcon, for his wisdom and skill. Argent claims his Falcon Silver, thus Falcon was bestowed upon his face.*




https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gokhBJWSjeM

[*MimiFearthegn]

In the days leading up to the battle, those in Sigil itself would have noticed an increase in self-appointed street prophets, declaring that the doom of the multiverse was at hand. They babbled on about the nightmare coming to the planes, and warned that not even Sigil was safe.

In the Plane of Salt, the factions camp had been fortified with golems and siege equipment. Harmonium and Mercykiller troops stood by, along with various mercenaries. Traps had been set along the perimeter.

The enemy had tested the walls a few times, and fell afoul of a few traps already, but it was clear that these attacks (and the skirmishing farther out) were merely tests. Their main force was coming - soon.

The scouting missions had determined that the enemy was likely to approach from the south-east, and preparations had been made accordingly. The last scouting party to return reported that the cultists looked to be performing some sort of ritual at their camp ground, preparing to open the portal for their god. . .

//And here we stop until after the battle.

[*MimiFearthegn]

The heroes returned home to Sigil victorious, though the victory was bittersweet for some.

The cult of Kakos Kruphai was scattered with the death of their deity. A few survivors were unlucky enough to contract lycanthropy, and went into hiding.

As for the scrolls of Mnemur - the source of all the trouble - they vanished as mysteriously as they had appeared.

When word spread of the events, many of the factioneers were rewarded with promotions.