Post by Monday
((
Storybook))
Day 2.
Markoth was awake and downstairs, eating breakfast with Jonathon, by the time Bane was up. He staggered down the stairs, slumping into a seat and groaning. Khazran stumped in through the door, chuckling. “Looks like the dreamer is finally awake,” he said, punching Bane lightly on the shoulder.
Bane stared at him for a moment, then switched to breakfast, attempting to get himself awake. “Alright,” Markoth started, “Here’s the plan. Jonathon and Bane hit the back of the house with Gordon, the Knight who was watching the house today. Khazran and I will hit the front, hopefully forcing them into the back.”
Bane cocked his head. “Nobody else?” he asked, curious.
“No,” Markoth replied. “We’re not sure how far these death cultists have infiltrated the government. They seemed remarkably coordinated and the watch never did arrive. It makes me wary. Anyways we will be going over one at a time. We’re going to leave one or two survivors to lead us to any other safehouses they may have.”
Jonathon spoke up. “We’ll be heading over through different routes, so any ambushes won’t get all of us.”
Bane nodded and started on breakfast. Ten minutes later they were out the door.
Bane strode along the street, keeping a sharp eye out either way. He blended in with the crowds, despite his dark robes, and browsed the different stalls in the market as he walked.
Something is amiss about the crowd, he thought, frowning and checking around himself. Nothing looked different, but felt different. Tense anticipation, aroused bloodlust. As a psionist, he felt these emotions lying over the row like a heavy fog.
He started off towards #27, keeping an even sharper eye out.
They won’t catch Bane unprepared…Markoth and Jonathon both moved through the street, walking at a brisk pace. Festival Lane bustled as always, with stalls and carts set up everywhere. Something seemed wrong, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He shot a look at Jonathon, and from the look in the Jonathon’s eyes, Markoth knew he felt the same.
Markoth slipped a hand into his coat, taking hold of a pistol, and started off…
Khazran slipped from the alley into Market Row, keeping one hand on his warhammer. The street was unnaturally clear around the upper end of the block, where #27 was located. Khazran frowned, eyes darting back and forth as he stepped from the alley.
Gordon drew his sword and stepped out from behind the Templar and started after the dwarf. Gordon nodded to Khazran and slipped around the side of the house, keeping near the wall, until he was behind it. Gripping his sword in both hands, he waited.
Markoth passed Bane, nodding in greeting, and kept moving. As soon as he nodded, Bane swept after him, and slipped around the side of the house after Gordon. Jonathon followed, keeping a wary eye out. Markoth clapped Khazran on the shoulder, and stepped up to the door of #27. Raising a foot, he savagely kicked the door, which crashed inwards.
He stepped to the side, and Khazran dashed inside. Markoth drew his pistol and ran after the Templar. Khazran’s battle cry rang out, immediately followed by the sound of blunt objects striking flesh.
Markoth jumped around the corner to see Khazran confronting three individuals, with a fourth stretched out across the floor. Taking aim, Markoth pulled the trigger. The sanctified projectile flew from the muzzle of the pistol and slammed into the neck of a cultist, which exploded. Blood spattered the wall behind him as the cultist fell bonelessly to the ground.
The remaining two took off. One shoulder slammed Khazran into a wall, while the other hit the door into the back, knocking it off the hinges. Jonathon stood ready, and fired. The cultist was hit in the chest, and staggered down the stairs, slamming his head into the ground and cracking his neck.
The last jumped over the body of his comrade and kicked Jonathon in the chest, knocking him aside. The cultist slashed at Bane, who dived out of the way. The cultist dashed off around the corner. Markoth ran out the front door, following the cultist, who started off towards Crusader Square.
Bane started off after Markoth, while Jonathon pushed himself to his feet, taking in great a lungful of air. Khazran strode out the door, frowning. “Only got one of them, dammit,” he said gloomily. Striding over to Jonathon, he pulled the other to his feet and waved a hand, healing him.
Jonathon gasped, and nodded. “Thanks. It was hard getting air for a moment there.” Khazran shrugged. “Looks like Markoth went after them cultists, so we best get you home. Healing takes it out of you, as you probably know, and we can’t do much else.”
Jonathon nodded and leaned on the dwarf, and the two started back towards his house.
Markoth and Bane slipped around the corner into Crusader Square, where he spotted the last cultist run into a building. “Hmm…” Markoth murmured. “Another nest? We best put it under surveillance.”
Bane extended his senses towards the house, and gasped. “Aye, definitely a feeling of death and despair around that house,” he said hoarsely.
“That settles it. We strike it tomorrow. With help,” Markoth stated, and swept from the square, back towards Jonathon’s house. Bane frowned at the house, and followed.