Cromlich: Reclaiming The Lost
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The Doomguard Factol leaned back in her seat in casual slouch, one leg folded over the other languidly. Imp skulls affixed to the armored poleyn of her kneecaps gleaming in dull light, Pentar took stock of what was being suggested with the contemplative scrape of thumbnail over her lower lip. During the silence, in which none voiced their veto of actions proposed, the woman's chaotic gaze flittered from one Sinker to the next; as always, daring the ignite of challenge.
"You believe this is something you can manage?" she asked as Zephon took his seat once more, weight shifting in the spired throne with a rattle of wood and metal. Over the handsome creature her attention roamed, en route to meet and lock with the fiend's golden gaze. "Unearthing a Scribbler whom might be... convinced to lend his aid to our cause?" The wolfish grin that tugged at the woman's maw, paired with the slight nod of her head, bespoke endorsement for whatever methods the incubus might deem necessary and appropriate. Free reign, as it were, should he take up the task.
The enthusiastic accelerationist found her spark anew as plans finally began to take shape, the mere thought of success and the carnage wrought in the process enough to coax her once more to the edge of her seat; long fingers entwining in dark locks with single sweep through tresses. Pentar could, at any moment, have taken over - this much was known. A simple snap of her fingers and several barked commands could well have a contingent of Sinkers armed, available, and ready to throw themselves into the fray if she so desired. This, however, surrendering a measure of control to the forces of entropy, was far more enjoyable... and it showed in vehement expression.
"In the meantime, we shall begin preparations for extraction," dictated the Factol in light of the agreed upon course of action. Restless fingers waged war upon the table with the offbeat patter of long nails. Once more, Pentar's attention weaved over the group expectantly, before returning to the initiative driven fiends. Her question addressed the room. "Likely reliant upon cadre, you would need to move swiftly and without drawing attention. Were the resources of the Doomguard at your fingertips, what path might you carve toward success?"
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The drow grins as he sees his plan of infiltrating and starting a riot are getting traction, but none the less advises caution.
"Quite right, but we can't expect the bleedin' Anarchs to do the job for us just cause they abhor the Sodkillers. We should ask around, find out how many of their boys and girls are being locked up there and find Revs more sympathetic to our cause.
Second is the equipment. We'll need bombs and weapons from external sources for deniability, as Orion pointed out. Things will probably get messy if use simple magic containers, as those are easily detected... so we gotta get a bit more creative, like hiding it in a Pocket Plane that someone's got locked into their teeth.
Then we sneak in... dunno how, get arrested, hijack a prisoner transport, something that should be planned with people who know what they're doing, like our potential Anarch 'friends'. Case the place from within, find our sympathizers and allies, take out snitches and weak links, then start a riot with whatever gear we can sneak in through their net... but then there's still the matter of getting out, to which I am quite clueless save for using one of our own ships and cloaking it."
"Quite right, but we can't expect the bleedin' Anarchs to do the job for us just cause they abhor the Sodkillers. We should ask around, find out how many of their boys and girls are being locked up there and find Revs more sympathetic to our cause.
Second is the equipment. We'll need bombs and weapons from external sources for deniability, as Orion pointed out. Things will probably get messy if use simple magic containers, as those are easily detected... so we gotta get a bit more creative, like hiding it in a Pocket Plane that someone's got locked into their teeth.
Then we sneak in... dunno how, get arrested, hijack a prisoner transport, something that should be planned with people who know what they're doing, like our potential Anarch 'friends'. Case the place from within, find our sympathizers and allies, take out snitches and weak links, then start a riot with whatever gear we can sneak in through their net... but then there's still the matter of getting out, to which I am quite clueless save for using one of our own ships and cloaking it."
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"There will be a difference between a quiet extraction and what is certain to be a clamorous fracas." Pentar pointed out with a half-lidded expression of thought, a thumb drawing over lower lip. Opposite digits spidered a drum on the surface of the table, the staccato accompaniment for a gaze that flittered and danced between Doomguard speakers. "That is not to say one method is better than the other, mind, but you will need to establish which of these routes would best guarantee your success..." The Factol's lips parted with exhale, drawing upward in a wicked grin. "...Lest you perish in the attempt."
The Planar woman lifted a single, gloved finger. "However, it seems there has been an accord reached as to where the attempt will be carried out, and the manner in which Cromlich will be returned to us." Shifting her weight upon spiraled throne, Pentar's gaze was drawn by gestures of Spragg's spindly limbs in the corner; unto whom she gave a small nod. With the return of attention to the gathered Doomguard, she thus moves to stand. Both palms, fingers splayed, rested down-turned on the surface of the table.
"This meeting has reached the end of it's productivity, and I have business elsewhere. As it stands, we will begin preparations for the extraction of Ely Cromlich from the Vorkehan gate on Acheron under the pretense of plausible deniability. Two Rules from now, you will gather and meet within this room to finalize details of which will be considered 'rogue' action'. You shall have whatever resources are needed. Three Rules, you will strike and succeed."
Drawing back from the table with one final glance over each seated, Pentar turned on heel and carried herself on zealous footsteps to the door that was hurriedly opened for her approaching presence; raven hair billowing fiercely in her wake of her departure.
"You are dismissed."
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