Log:Impromptu Rescueteers

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Impromptu Rescueteers

Annapurna as ST. Uschi, Dross, Logan, Isolde, Cassian, and later on also Edmond, Kelsey Williams, Esther, Haruki

4 December, 2017

The group hears through the grapevine that four people have been kidnapped! They go to save the day.



      Talk about a no good very bad day! Poor Haruki. There he was, moping in a park, when *prick!* -- was that a bug bite? ARE there still bugs out when it's this cold? Why does he suddenly feel so wooooooozyyyy? Ooooh so many swirlies... *kathunk* goes the 'ruki. Zzzzzzzzzz.

      Esther's day isn't much better. There she is, all alone in the woods -- or so she thought. Haruki got swirlies, but Esther's seeing stars after a sneak coshes her in the head with something awfully hard. *kathunk* goes the Esther, too!

      Edmond and Kelsey, well, pity they aren't likely to eat those groceries any time soon. On the bright side, their captors now get a free meal AND an extra body to sell! What a steal!

      Later on the same day, Isolde gets a knock on her door, wherever that is likeliest to be, with a sealed letter from the Mayor. The letter reads:

      "Dear Ms. Garreau,         Please forgive my informality. I have been informed by mutual allies among the Folk that four of your people have been seen unconscious in the custody of unsavory individuals. The Folk in question relayed that relatives among the Thorns told them that other associates told them that they had overheard chatter of carrying their 'catch' to a non-local Market some distance away. While I am not formally sworn, these days, to aid you and yours, I remain a friend.

            Cordially yours,             Mayor Jack

Isolde had sent word from the Mayor that people were kidnapped and she sent word to people among the Freehold and outside the Freehold that there would be a mission to recover them. Because it wasn't just Freehold business. If it was the pointy hat would be here and she's not. So Isolde had made her contacts. The woman is dressed in her hedge outing gear, which means flak jacket, boots, jeans and things like that. She doesn't look happy though.

      Cassian had slipped forward beyond the group when the rock appeared in the distance, preferring to approach by shadow in case the tip was a fabrication to lure other 'Lings into a trap. Hunched low, Cassian inches hand-over-hand forward to spy the top of Quackrock. He relied upon his senses to feel whether there were any ne'er-do-wells waiting in ambush.

Logan strides up to Isolde with his usual smile in place, Dross in tow. He himself looks dressed for hiking -- blue anorak, jeans, expensive hiking boots, blue Dodgers cap, enormous rifle strapped to his back. It's an unhappy situation, but Logan always finds reason to look on the bright side. "Dr. Garreau, good evening. This sounds like a serious situation." There's no crinkle to the Golden Boy's brow, but his eyes are bright with concern.

Behind Logan comes Dross, dressed in the same blue-grey coat, white shirt, dark trousers and boots as usual. A white-gold pin shaped like a sword cutting through a knot wings through one of the buttonholes near the coat's collar. On the Darkling's starched-looking face: No particular expression. He nods to Isolde, but doesn't say anything. Gaze drifts out to where Cassian disappeared next.

Hey. What's that smell? It's the sweet decay of Moon -- because down here, out in the Hedge on the edge of the trod down by that strangely Duck Shaped Rock, there is an Ogress: she is dressed in rags, barefoot, carrying a hefty pack, and looming asymmetrically in the shadows of Duckish Rock, her Gnarled and Very Dead Left Arm curled up crookedly by her side.

The person is Uschi, and she's shifting out of the shadows as if she entirely expected Freeholders like Logan, Cassian, Dross and Isolde to show up and come this way. Her not-dead ruddy right hand raises; palm out, look ma - no weapons! Who doesn't want to meet a strange, unaligned Moon Ogress en route to a kidnapping? Uschi grunts. She sniffs the air. She attempts to make contact: "...New from the East. Youse lot lookin' for somethin'?"

See? Uschi is FRIENDLY. She even smiles! Glint o' light passing through the shadow of her mantle, to reflect off a crooked cuspid. Wait. It's not a smile, Uschi is grimacing and jerking a thumb down the trod as she tries to, well, form words: "Five folk, four Hobs, four bodies, two traps, one Hollow."

Isolde gives a look to Logan and a nod to him, "It would appear to be." she tells him. "So hopefully we have some Harvestmen show up or we'll just have to make do." the Bright One chuckles. There's a nod of greeting to Dross and then a look to Uschi when she approaches, a moment taken to decipher words that she's speaking and a nod, "We're looking for a market that's supposed to be around here? A few of our friends were taken and we'd like to recover them." she states. Then there's a look the way she points, "I'm guessing that way?"

      Cassian seems content that there was only Uschi nearby. And although Uschi may be weaponless, Cassian was not. In fact, Cassian had no subtext to what he was there to do, and anyone looking at the particular Darkling would know that. His bow is brought to hand idly, fed with a quiver of arrows at the small of his back. Peeking beyond the highwayman coat is armor plating. Except for his bare feet, there wasn't much that suggested he was anything but dangerous. And, always, was the ever-present hunger that seemed to bleed from him, drawing at the world around them. He was a very hungry Woodblood.       One glance is offered to Uschi, before Cassian slips into the bare earth to poise himself atop the Quackrock, where he slips shadowards and goes painfully still in the darkness.

"I'm not worried," Logan chirps to Isolde. Who needs Harvestmen? Everyone here is amazing, right? His smile doesn't even fade when Uschi appears, though it does grow a little bit stiffer. "Can you be more specific, Uschi?"

Dross nods to Uschi when she appears, too. His gaze cuts back to Logan then, and to Isolde-- Cassian having vanished into the shadows of the duck-shaped stone-- to wait to hear more.

"Yea." Uschi croaks in Isolde's direction. Who's in charge here? Because Uschi is replying to the Fairest, but those iridescent and shadowed eyes of hers are glinting in the direction of Logan and Dross as the Moon Ogress does Her Very Best to communicate in more than monosyllables. By the time she opens her mouth to say more? Cassian has gone all shadowy.

That gives her pause, then Uschi wrinkles her nose - looking back at the three Freeholder's with a puzzled frown. "...Yea." That again! She continues; "Saw them folk, carryin' four bodies over yonder, inta some Hollow they got carved out. S'traps out at the front; snare, pit." Is that a laugh? More like a grunt as she gestures to Dross. "/Youse/ know what I'm talkin' about." Does he though? The Ogress sniffs and lifts an hand, scratchin' at her very-very dead left arm.

"Y'all make a promise? We all do good work today, and we'll all be real friendly like together; what's them words... You scratch my back?..." Scratch, scratch. Skin flakes off that dead arm. "Don't gimme any trouble? I make sure ya chances of fallin' on a broken spike while ya get yer friends back are, how'd'ja say... Reduced. Nah! Improved. How's it sound?"

"I'm not going to give you any trouble. So sure." Isolde states to Uschi. Then she looks to where Cassian has disappeared to, "I need a moment to confirm something with Legolas. Thinking going in and starting a full out fight might not be the greatest." Isolde states to the group and heads over towards the rock. "Cassian?" she whispers. "Would you like to do what you do best?" she asks him.

      It was hard to pinpoint where the voice may have come from. The low whisper that might have come from behind or above Isolde. It was likely that she was safe, though, with the way she approached. "I cannot sense their hearts," Cassian whispers coldly, as he focuses on trying to reach out and sense where his Dinner might be. He hadn't told Isolde that was what he'd planned for one of them, but, he knew she was clever enough to suspect. "We get ours back, that's the mission. Whether they fight us or not, that's in their hands. I brought extra arrows," he says with a cheery sort of tone. Of course, made all the creepier by the haunting absence of his actual presence.

"Sure you ain't." Uschi says to Isolde, something almost-but-not-quite a smile on that shadowed face of hers. Eyes glint in the direction of Dross and Logan, and then she sniffs in and lifts her chin - horn jerked subtly in the direction of That Voice From Above Isolde, i.e. the stranger Cassian. "Get'cha boy to agree, and we can 'pproach this day as, what'cha call it... Allies."

So Uschi assumes Logan and Dross will agree to be Allies in the eyes of the Wyrd? Such hubris! Do they know each other already? Either way... The Moon Ogress grunts and shakes her head. "Look at'cha. Fightin'? Y'all ain't got 'nuff heavies, fer nine foes in their own territory." Uschi! Don't tell them how to live! Yet the non-Freeholder does, grunting as she adds, "Disarm the traps first, see whot's inside -- then youse twos?" Yeah. She means Isolde and Logan. "Well pretty."

...Pretty? Yes. Uschi said pretty. "Walk in, charm 'em wif that razzle dazzle, an' get yer people out safe." Wait, wait... The feral looking Ogress is suggesting /diplomacy/?! Listen to her! She's struggling to form words, and yet she's trying to, what, boss people around!? "An' if shit goes south? Well... Youse pretty 'holders did, what'cha call it..." She squints. It's hard to think of the word. "Did, ah, ah... Good. Ya did good."

"Alright, Uschi. Sure. Whatever you say." Logan grins his shiny grin. That's one way to agree to a Day Pledge. Then he takes the gun off his back and turns off the safety, but his grin doesn't waver. "Who said anything about charm?"

"I meant sneaking in, Cassian." Isolde states to the Leechfinger. "I can punch people, but I'm thinking we're pretty outnumbered by most things. Arrows or no." she chuckles. Then there's a look to the Ogress, "If he agrees on his own that's his business." she tells her. "I'm hoping that he does so this endeavor will go smoothly and we aren't going to be sitting here wasting time discussing it." she states. "Either way, pretty, punchy, I can do either. If shit goes south I can switch to beating a motherfucker with another motherfucker pretty quickly." she states with a smile.

      Cassian would have felt bad if Isolde had waited for some response from him, because he was already slinking onward at the mention of sneaking. He's following the sensations of tasty life, assuming it would lead him where he needed to go. Were those raised voices? Cassian continues forward, towards the noise.

Unfortunately for Cassian, he doesn't quite manage to spot the snare before it lashes itself about his ankle.

      SNAP. The lash tightens immediately around Cassian's leg, biting a little too high along his ankle and leg thanks to an instant redistribution of his weight. A quick shifting allows him to leverage the lash downard as his right hand plants an arrow into the ground and he bends low. he falls perfectly still, waiting instead for signs that somebody heard commotion.

Uschi's iridescent eyes glimmer as Isolde speaks to her -- there's a sense that the Fairest is being scribbled down in whatever tatty cuneiform make up the Ogress' good books. Looking to Logan and Dross next, her horns glint dimly in the light as she bobs her head and opens her mouth to say something, "An--"

Wait. Was that the snap of a trap, over yonder? Uschi's nose wrinkles, and she turns to look at the remaining freeholders. There is a soft grunt - is it annoyed? Well it's a /grunt/, and then... Then the Moon Ogress' shadowy mantle is being pulled around her, and she's making her way away from Quackrock, creeping /oh so carefully/ along the edges of the Trod, to get a better view of the Hollow.

Ah. Seems to be four prisoners, a bunch of jerks, and trouble. Uschi makes hardly a noise, but those close enough to pay attention? Will note a snort. Somebody seems -amused-, but not exactly in a nice way...

Edmond's breathing heavily against the wobbly post he's tied and shackled to, noisily because of the gag in his mouth, and there's an oppressive heat and silence in the air, and the smell of an oncoming storm. His shoulder's wrenched, and his eyes shut tight for a second, but then there's a deafening crack of thunder and the winds come, heralding the monsoon--

--that's not just wind. Trees begin reaching for the folk and the hobs, for the rescue party Edmond doesn't know is coming; dirt flies up and flings itself around with stones and bits of debris, thorns and dead leaves and tiny bones; wood creaks and groans and the air itself stings with hurricane force--

--it begins to hail, pelting everything beneath the canopy of branches with heavy ice baseballs and ice pebbles and ice BBs; a tree cracks and begins to fall, and branches whip everything they can reach, flailing--

--and Edmond rolls his head back to look imperiously at the man holding the knife to him. Sure, there's a gag in his mouth, but all of the other signs of a sneer are well in evidence. This boy, made of dirt and stars and trees, is looking at him like he's less than dirt.

Isolde gives a look to see where Uschi went, "You don't have to help, I understand not wanting to get hurt over things since not everyone made the pledge." she tells her. Then the Fairest is off when Cassian gets himself snared. She notes the chaos going on inside and the Grandmaster gets angry very very quickly. Her mantle flares up and even when a rock smacks her in the cheek, she's bleeding glamour, "Someone's mother didn't teach them how to treat people." the tall woman states as she straightens up. "The thing that a lot of people cannot comprehend is that Mother Nature doesn't have a bullet with your name on it, she has millions of bullets inscribed with 'to whom it may concern." she hisses as she calls up the very plant life around them to attack the Changelings and hobs closest to the door. Thankfully Isolde could control her plants.

Cassian's race into that snare, and the way that the environment seems to fissure apart, revealing four persons strapped to wooden poles, being threatened, interrupt the conversation about a possible arrangement. Dross walks behind Logan and Uschi when the Ogress starts maneuvering for a better view of the prisoners and their captors. Then the wind picks up, all the way from breeze to tempest, furious enough to strip the grass from the earth, and hail starts to fly. Branches fall. Dross looks up quickly at the ravaged sky, then back to Logan, Uschi, and further ahead, Isolde and Cassian. He seems, for whatever reason, indifferent to the wind and the hail and the hurled forth branches, as close as they fall, and as vicious as they are... For now, at least. Keeps walking forward somewhere in the others' wake.

You know, that may have been a slight miscalculation on their part.

The hobs, shorter than their changeling companions, quickly duck under cover to avoid the hail and lashing of the thorns around the edges of the Hollow. That is, three of them do. One of them just stares at Kelsey with a stupid expression until his friends haul at his arm hard enough to topple him sideways.

The changelings, now, they behave a bit differently.

Yellowscarf bellows orders which aren't followed, commanding his men to kill the plants.

Redeye almost slits Edmond's throat, but sees Kelsey first and ends up staring instead, long enough to be slapped back by a swinging branch.

Tusk Guy, too, is momentarily distracted by Kelsey, following Redeye's look to see what he was watching. This doesn't end well, since he gets the backblow from that branch across the cheek.

Marv is on the ground, having been slugged by a very angry tree while off balance from trying to help Tusk Guy.

Why does nature hate them, yo? And what's up with it suddenly hating them MORE?

On the bright side, none of them appear to have noticed the rescue party...

Well, maybe Dross shouldn't have spent so much time admiring the hail or watching the rest of the rescue party get so far ahead of him. He steps right onto ground that isn't there anymore and disappears from view into a deep, wide pit, which now everyone can see. There's a wet, sick CRUNCH when his body hits the sharp spikes inside, but that's all.

Isolde was taking a moment to enjoy her trees and plants beating the snot out of those people. Then there's the feeling of dirt shifting and someone falling. The Doctor can hear the sickening snap of bone and she hones in on that sound. Stepping lightly as Fairests are want to do. There's a wiggle of fingers, a spark of glamour and the slow throb of healing begins. Because she can't just leave that untended.

      To anyone seeking out Cassian, they would find the shredded wire-and-leather lash pinned into the ground with an arrow. The feathers sway with the wind around them, and Cassian was missing.       A few meters away, hiding impossibly in a tuft of grass, was Cassian. His long, elfen ears twitch as he hears the order to attack the trees. Dark, fathomless orbs go wide as Cassian lifts from his place of cover long enough to let loose the first of what would likely be many arrows to come. It whips passed the others, striking Haruki's offender in the arm. It pierces beyond the arm and practically pins the man's arm to his shoulder, as the arrows digs into solid bone. It's enough pain to cause just about anyone to pass out, though miraculously, the Kidnapper survives. No scream came, yet. The pain was too quick, too savage, for his brain to entirely piece together what had happened. But it was coming.

Silly Dross. Always doing silly things, like...grievously endangering himself in a pit of horrible spikes. For once, though, Logan's /not/ smiling as he puts the safety on his rifle, slings it back over his back, and reaches down to pull out the damaged Darkling. Logan is strong, and this shouldn't be hard, but it might not be pretty...

Heyyy, this level of plant activity is definitely not all Edmond. His eyes widen a little, and he looks rapidly to Ke-- NO HE DOESN'T, but he's smiling hard behind the gag all of a sudden, head tilted a little in the Flamesiren's direction, like a tiny tiny bow. With all the growing confusion, and the yelling and the nonsense going on, he takes a deep breath and pulls all of his rage into place, concentrating it in a tiny, brilliant ball of concentrated haet h8 H8 HAET HEAT--

The Prince of earth, guarded by the Sun, is a night-sky boy with starry eyes. But stars are all suns, aren't they? Formerly midnight blue eyes flicker open, suddenly, and focus on the crazy man with the red eyes and the knife, who very nearly slit his throat, who dared to threaten him, who dared to use the cute kid who brought him takeaway and checked on him as leverage, and are filled with the blazing fury of Sol. The bolt of searing plasma-- force and light as hot as the heart of the sun-- erupts from Edmond's extremely judgemental gaze and slices right through the privateer's head.

Uschi grunts - this time, it's really irritated: the Moon Ogress has been pelted with ice and rocks and all sorts of nasty environmental debris, /and/ she doesn't even have a Day Pledge to make sure these Freeholder's don't sell her out? What a challenging day the Moon Ogress is having! And thing's aren't getting any easier. Dross has fallen in a pit. Logan is assisting. Isolde has started doing her Spring Thing. Everything smells like blood, ice, dirt and chaos.

Mmm. Delicious.

And yet... In all that hubbub... Who really gives a shit about an unaffiliated Moon Ogress? Because she was over there by the traps as Logan drags Dross out with a wet schlorp, but then the next second? Uschi is... Where is... Does anybody even know =who= she is? The Farwalker seems to have removed herself from the fray. Go figure.

Kelsey's eyes are open, though the flickering of his hair is settling back to its usual level, no longer so absorbing. After all, at least one of the enemies it distracted is on the ground, one got pulled down by its own allies, and one ... is ... no longer an issue. Kelsey focuses on Tusk, instead, green eyes hard and glittering, and in a surge of his Glamour the drooping pale-purple petals of an autumn-blooming flower manifest more brightly for an instant in his Mantle. It's hardly noticeable next to the searing brilliance of Edmond's magic. But Autumn's pull upon the life of others has always been less overt than Summer's blades.

Haruki easily slips out the rest of his bonds, as if they weren't even there, leaving his shoes behind, He swerves around the stake, taking cover and makes a mad dash for where Edmond is, hiding behind him and the stake.

Esther is not having a good night. Despite the chaos that indicates that the fight might be moving in the foursome's direction, she is having a difficult time getting loose, as she strains and heaves like an old bull.

Yellowscarf has no time for this noise, and neither do his hob compatriots. Unfortunately, only one of the hobs is anywhere near as sneaky as their changeling leader, the three behind him clanking and branch-snapping as they creep toward the exit of the hollow.

With Redeyes a crisp-brained corpse at Edmond's feet, Marv hurries off toward the quiet man behind the fire, but Cassian's arrow has done its work too well; it must have nicked an artery. The man is slumping down, unconscious, even as Marv reaches him.

Tusk Guy, meanwhile, bellows his rage and apparently puts all of that anger, and then some, into the meaty punch he delivers to Kelsey's face, bonking the back of the changeling's head against the pole with a meaty and painful *thwack*. That'll be a shiner, for sure.

No, what's left of Dross is /not/ pretty. Slippery with blood, almost unrecognizable, he leans heavily on Logan when the Fairest pulls him out of the earth, whispering at one point against the neat shell of Logan's ear. Livid, he's blinking-- rarely-- and looking around, breathing with effort.

      Cassian had missed the bright, sunbeam of death by only miliseconds. The Woodblood manages to slip back into place after the last shot, before another arrow is knocked. Out of the brush again comes a shot, arcing towards the Tusked Slugger. The arrow is anatomically dangerous, cutting through left-center-mass in a painful way, but the thing manages to remain awake. In the midst of firing and cutting back to a place of concealment, Cassian has lost most of the Hobs and one of the Kidnappers. His mental notes are made back in the impossibly-small-hiding place.

Edmond, still on the pole, just having killed one guy with the SUM TOTALITY OF HIS RAEG, sees Haruki sneaking up toward him-- and then hears the sick sound of Kelsey's head hitting the post next to him. His eyes go wide and wild with abrupt gut-level fear, and he starts yelling behind the gag, muffled and incomprehensible; it turns swiftly into a sound of pure unadulturated towering fury and infinite frustration, and his eyes blaze bright again, white hot, but distracted and not nearly so focused when he hits Tusker with Fuckyou la Smoking Lasers.

<< Esther had to leave because holy moly almost 1am >>

After wiping his hands on a towel he's brought for /just/ these occasions, and making sure he and his rifle are properly braced, Logan leaves Dross to his own devices for a few moments so he can get at least /one/ good shot in. He can't find Yellowscarf, so a hob it is! That is one big effin' gun he's got there -- as he stares through the laser sights and gets a bead right on the hob's forehead (presuming the damage is...sufficiently lethal, if not, then elsewhere), he aims and fires. He spends plenty of time at his private range shooting, and the efforts pay off. Logan's smile returns to his face. Everything's great.

One minute, nothing is going on over there.

The next minute? There is a flurry of activity, and it becomes very apparent that ol' Yellowscarf has an Ogress on tail - but not for long. Uschi was creeping, but now she is leaping: silent, and what's that in her hand? A glistening piece of cracked stone, tilled up from the earth from the Wyrd happenings of undulating tree roots.

It is the perfect weapon with with a sneak attack by a feral, shadowy Ogress of Moon to straight up brain ol' Yellowscarf right in the pretty head. CRACK. The stone desintergrates, but so does part of that Fairests' skull -- the guy goes down like a bag of rocks, and Uschi's momentum brings her right down on top of him, dead arm swinging limply as her ruddy right hand smooshes into the bloody divot of his skull. That guy ain't getting up anytime soon. But Uschi?

Uschi doesn't look the least bit bothered. Once he's down, she's already checking out what's happening else-where -- those lil' hobs. The Ogress licks a speck of blood off the side of her lip, and sniffs the air.

Kelsey has no possible way to dodge; his head rocks back with the tusked changeling's punch, hitting the back of the pole hard. It takes him a moment to be able to focus enough to (realize that light just seared through the man before him? probably; realize that there is an arrowpoint very close to him? maybe not) half-lift his head again. The tail of his hair has come entirely loose, the band snapped by the force of the impact, and he glares at Tusk through faintly lambent curls as the candlelight glimmer of his Mantle rises a second time. Tearing at the other changeling's life, at the water in his body. And still -- still -- Tusk doesn't go down. It's fair, granted. Neither has Kelsey. Yet.

Haruki removes Edmond's gag first, just in case the man needs his voice in order to cast the super awesome spells, or to provide a distraction. Haruki's not a fighter, he's doing his very best to hide, to appear defenceless, and to work at getting Edmond free, while hiding.

When Haruki gets the gag off him, Edmond's still a little wild-eyed. "Lockpicks in my left cargo pocket," he whispers, "but keep out of sight, he is going to come after me. I hope. Oh I hope he is."

Haruki says nothing, quiet as a mouse, and he pickpockets those lockpicks.

Yellowscarf and one of the hobs are laid out flat, so they're not doing anything. The three other hobs, seeing this, yip and start to sprint out of the Hollow, dodging the insane nature gone wild as they do so. Thankfully, their armour protects them from the damage.

Tusk Guy... poor tusk guy. Leaking bodily fluids from holes in places where there really ought not to be holes, he sobs a rasping, bubbling, bloody froth of breath and swings a punch at Edmond in revenge for the laser eyeballs, but a flare of Summer's heat blocks his strike. Poor, poor tusk guy.

Marv, meanwhile, seeing all of this, promptly throws up his hands.

"HEY! I SURRENDER!" he yells, wide-eyed. "Please don't kill me!!"

Isolde keeps dodging things and finally she manages to get a good grip on the Wyrd and it cooperates with her. Dross can feel everything heal. The skin knitting back together. The only thing that would be left were the torn clothes and the blood, "No scars or anything. I suggest moving though as I'm not quite sure where any of the fighting is going to move to." she suggests to Dross with a smile.

      Cassian didn't truck with Hobs when it was avoidable--Killing too many made others a little squeemish of you, and he had a Hollow full of Hobs in the Mines. So, as the Woodblood seemingly steps into view out of nowhere, a final 'thwip' can be heard as an arrow ends the life of poor, poor Tusker. Cassian didn't much care. That's what he was brought for, after all. The bow-slung Cassian glances about them and approaches the others. "I brought some of my remedies if you can't handle the workload, Grandmaster," Cassian offers to the wind.

Haruki's too focused on unshackling Edmond. He's going to... unshackle Edmond focus on that... focus on picking the locks of the shackles... focus, focus. Do not gag. Do not throw up. Just focus. If only his hands would stop shaking this would be so much easier. Feet first. Unshackling.

Wait... wait and something gnaws into Haruki. "When are they coming?" he suddenly blurts out. "The buyers? How long until they're here? How many? We can't stay too long."

Marv stares at Haruki. "Uh. Jonquil never said. He, uh," he babbles more quickly, eyeing the crowd of guts-splattered strangers with obvious fear. "He never let me handle none of that."

All the bad guys are dead except the guy yelling about surrender. He's not going to get sold. So -- why is Edmond shaking? Why have Fury Boy's stars gone out? Why is he hyperventilating now, unable to avoid the panic attack that's rolling in like the storm he called to wreak vengeance on their captors? "Get it off," he whispers, "get it off me get it off me get it off me GET IT OFF ME GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF--"

Jonquil? Kelsey's not exactly in a position to contribute to the conversation, but his eyes narrow, and he starts to scan the bodies in the Hollow ... and then Edmond stops actually whispering, and he swings his attention over to Fury Boy instead.

Isolde heads into the hollow proper and there's a bit of a look around, "Well, this is lovely." she states as she steps over a dead body. Then she heads over towards Kelsey who seems to be in pretty bad shape. There's a look over him and then she reaches out to just pat his shoulder and there's a rush of warmth and comfort. And then he's just like new. Or well...all that nasty bashing is gone. Then Haruki's words make her look towards him and there's a bit of a look to Marv, "Well, that's good then. Off we go." she chuckles as she heads over to the man. She just nonchalantly bends at the knee, tosses him over her shoulder and starts out of the hollow with him. "So I've got this idea for a Winter themed Masquerade. Do you like parties?" she asks Haruki as she goes.

      With a quick survey, Cassian heads towards the knocked out Hob and he leans down to inspect the unconcious body thoughtfully. Cassian slips an arrow from his quiver and rolls the thing over a moment. Cassian considers the effort it would take to stablize the thing, before fishing into his bag for a small draught of green liquid with an oily, black something within.

"Edmond," Haruki says softly, once he's got the man free. Surely someone else has freed the others by now and Marv, well he's being dealt with. Everyone's dealing with things. Focus not on the splattered brains and blood and death but instead on one thing. "It's okay. Are you hurt? Can you walk?" he keeps his voice as calm and quiet as he can. He ignores any talk of parties.

Uschi has not moved from her spot, which is currently located at 'crushing Jonquil's ribs'. Her attention is up -- she's watched Logan and Dross, witnessed Isolde and the astonishing generosity of Spring, and paid vague attention to everyone else as a potential threat/ally/source of noise and nonsense.

Her final assessment? Root through Jonquil's persons. Hey. Uschi's moral code and sense of duty has been heavily, /heavily/ altered by Wyrd logic and a severe lack of social interaction, if her general demeanour is anything to go by. Yellow scarf, speckled in blood? It's hers now -- wrapped on the strap of her backpack, before she goes about getting some loot. Huh. He has so many -keys-. No. Wait. Now /Uschi/ has so many keys...

      Cassian begins pouring some of the green liquid over the Hob's wounds, feeding the tincture into them to bring the Hob to a more stable position. With that done, Cassian pulls free a small card with a black lily on it--His sigil. A charcoal pencil is used to write upon it, since he is mostly left alone by the others, for now.

After Isolde heals him, Dross stands up. Clothes tattered; streaked scarlet from head to toe in fresh blood. Even his eyelashes are red. He looks around the ravaged landscape. Ahead, all's quieting down. His gaze comes back to rest on Logan, waiting to leave.

Freeing Edmond turned partway into an adventure halfway through, because as soon as his hands were freed, he started tearing at his blood-and-brains-spattered clothing-- and then the rest of him is free and Haruki's talking softly to him, and he's got his shirt off and he wipes his face off with the back of it, and then his hands off on whatever's not bloody, and he's shivering and pale, and he clutches Haruki's shoulder. "N-no, help me with Kelsey-- please--"

That is a clingy wooden hand. There's a jingling of keys somewhere that barely registers in the back of his head, but he can't see them, so the lockpicks it is. Isolde got Kelsey's gag off, at least, and someone got Esther free already-- and there's blood on his cargos and on his shoes and he's not even thinking about lockpicks, he just tries to break the chains, and his hands are shaking too hard and his skin's just blank featureless overcast night with no moon, from ground to the arch of the sky, and he starts crying.

Haruki'll help with Kelsey then, getting him free, making sure he's okay. Someone's healed him up and made him better? He does use the lockpicks and he is at least more with it. "We can't stay here. We've got to go. Go tot leave. The slavers are coming. Come on. Got to go. Can you both walk? It'll be okay." His voice rmeains quiet, calm, soothing as best as he can. "We go to the Wayhouse? It'll be safe there."

Kelsey is looking just fine, and his reactions as Haruki and Edmond approach are alert. Someone healed him up, yes. "Not a problem," he says quietly to Haruki's question. Then puts a hand on Edmond's arm, soon as he can do it. "Come on," is all he says to Edmond. "Water's this way." Eventually, when they get where the others are going - water will be that way, anyhow.