RP Story Night - Remnants Acquisitions

Saturday, February 17th, Solitude Waypoint (Wayfarer Foothills), 8-10 PM Eastern.

What has gone before (February 10th):  When Luna Blu, Wynn of the Snow, and Tomb the Dwarf met in the Council Chamber, the stocky Norn revenant told of an experience in the Mists, whence he sought information.  Owl's Havroun appeared to him and confirmed their worst fears of what the possessors of the Sacred Totem could do to him, and might do with what they learned.  The potential of Svanir, or worse, Icebrood, being able to travel to and from the Mists without a portal was too dreadful to contemplate.  And Zyrre, expected to have new information, was late.  Quite late. 

When he did stumble in, he was pale, bloody, breathing hard, and nearly hysterical.  "I found it ... and then the Beast of Jormag attacked me and took it.  He's going to give it to his master, the Claw of Jormag!"  

Questions flew at the Asuran -- Found where?  How did the Beast defeat the deceptively capable thief?  How did he know the Beast's plans? -- but Zyrre parried the inquisition with urgings to pursue the Claw and Tomb, normally a person of careful deliberation, snapped at the information like a starving barracuda.  Disregarding an interruption of Raiimi, a long-absent agent bearing a message on a different matter, he drove the squad in pursuit of first the Beast and then the Claw.  A stop at the Beast's last known location was of no avail, as was sighting the Claw over Njordstead, where it dropped corrupted ice, spawning numerous Icebrood.  Despite Tomb's shouted challenges and the Remnants' destruction of the ice and its minions, the Claw flew northeast, to its favorite haunt.  Tomb resumed the pursuit.  Wynn looked over at Luna and asked, "Is he usually like this?"  "No," said Luna.  By the time Tomb, Zyrre (a surprise volunteer), and Luna entered Frostgorge Sound, Raiimi and Wynn had been left behind.  Luckily Erin was able to catch up as they sought for information on the Claw's whereabouts. 

The Claw was, in fact, flying into a trap laid by the Pact, including cannon and other siege weapons.  In such a battle, even the leader of Remnants Dreadnoughts, the vastly experienced Luna Blu, and two others (plus Zyrre) would be a minor contribution, yet on they rode flat-out.  Even Erin, after boasting that she would eschew her rifle and shoot her pistols right in the Claw's mouth, subsided as they neared the impending battle. 

Lightning, natural and Dragonborn, flickered and struck constantly, doubly deafening the Pact cannoneers, but they soon succeeded in forcing the Claw to land.   By now, pale Tomb had ceased even to notice his comrades.  Shouting curses at the Claw and King Jalis, he laid about with favorite hammer at the Claw's minions.  Luna, Erin, and to a lesser extent Zyrre struggled to follow Tomb's erratic path, doing their best to help him survive the blind risks he took.  "Berserk?" panted Erin, wrapping cloth around her hand on the rifle's barrel.  Luna, finishing a greatsword spin in the gut of an Icebrood champion, looked up calmly and shook her head.  "That's not rage.  It's something else." 

Then a path opened up, for just a moment, directly to the Claw's underbelly.   Tomb flew down it, followed by Zyrre popping out of stealth.   Luna and Erin were too late to follow, the Architect in a clot of Icebrood veterans, and Erin hard put to find a clear line of sight under the Dragon. 

No soft underbelly this, scaled and cold ... oh, so cold.  Tomb called repeatedly on the skills of Jalis the dwarf king, skills of dwarven combat and the Great Rite to attack and defend.  Even these and dodging skills pressed to a maximum barely kept Tomb alive and an annoyance.   But the continuous cannon fire, magic and steel of the Pact was wearing on the Claw.  After seeming on the edge of death four times and each time reviving to freeze and fracture soldiers and equipment, eventually the Claw died. 

Crushed and pummeled beyond reason, Tomb crawled from beneath a giant clawed finger.  "There!" he croaked.  "He had it, the Totem."  Lurching to his feet, one leg buckled, and Tomb fell reaching, and his head struck a rock.  Momentarily dazed, when his mind cleared his hand puzzled him.  The totem he half-held seemed ... wrong.  The Norn's eyes focused.  "NOOOooooo!"  It was crushed.  Then he looked more closely.  It was crushed pine wood, painted an ivory color.

"What IS this?  Zyrre?"  "Run off," said Erin, limping and bloody, cradling her rifle like her best friend.  Luna said nothing, making a battlefield evaluation of the dents in her friend's armor, and the likely injuries beneath.  "ZYRRE!" roared Tomb, but he was gone.  "Fake!  It's a fake.  Not ivory, wood! ... It can't be.  I've failed.  I'm doomed."  Luna looked sharply at the Norn's helmet, and helped her friend to his feet.  "We need to get out of here; it's not safe.  Those are big wurm tunnels." 

Erin looked about hopefully, seeking a target for her rifle , but Zyrre was gone.  Luna shuffled Tomb toward a waypoint.  "I'm doomed," repeated Tomb.  "No you're not," Luna said, "we'll find the real totem eventually."  Tomb stared ahead and said softly,  "My Wyrd is upon me."

((Join us  at 8:00 PM Eastern to continue the search for the Sacred Totem of Snow Owl.  Reinforcements are always welcome.))

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Sim the Indefinite