World Tree MUSH

    The scene: the small medieval military town of Burthorpe, nestled in some interesting geography. Snow-capped mountain to the west, open plain and roads to nearby settlements to the south and east, and a barren maze of plateaus to the north. That rocky bit to the north? Troll country. And those trolls aren't content to keep north. Burthorpe's Imperial Guard spends most of its time either fighting back troll incursions, or training to fight back troll incursions. Today is not looking particularly good, as a phalanx of invading trolls has pinned down the outer defense force and is making steady progress.

    There are, however, preparations underway to fix this. In the main training camp, one of the commanders has just sent out the next rotation of troops to relieve the front line, and is now making his way to the staging area for incoming adventurers. It's got military diagrams showing the local terrain, known enemy locations, potential choke points, even some supplies for anyone who left their adventurin' backpack at home. Looks like he's the first point of contact for anyone looking to jump in.

    For his own part, Ozan is already here, although he's chosen to stay out of the way of all the goings-on, for now, and just watch for what crazy personalities decide to stop by. Even if he occasionally gets an odd glance from some of the locals.

'Crazy personalities' they say. Whatever gives them the idea this is going to attract crazy people?

Probably that you'd have to be pretty fearless to go up against an entire force of troll maurauders, and fearless and crazy tend to go hand in hand.

The stereotype isn't really dissauded any when the white fox woman in swashbuckling attire strides into the staging camp like she already owned the place. "Cast weigh your fears lads and lasses, for the first of your salvors has arrived!" She gives the collar of her naval longcoat a flick up, tosses the ends of her scarf over one shoulder, and bows. "Captain Renya Rhimehart, 'ere to keelhaul some trollish bildge from yer problems." She goes light on the usual triad that is her introduction, to avoid overwhelming everyone with her presence.

Then her attention is immeadiately drawn to the maps and diagrams, which she meanders to examine with her keen navigator's eye. One hand pulls a small device from her belt and holds it up to one side her head. "Polar Vortex, report in."
"Holding position Cap'n," a voice replies between crackles of staticy effect. "Anchored over the wide plains... Don't see why we ain't just sailin' over and frostburn cannonin' the whole lot of 'em though."
"Tch. Ye never use yer strongest assault on the first sail, Magnum. Should know that by now. Fer now, we're playin' by the local rules. Maybe score some safe haven fer a day or two 'fore we raise the sails once more. Captain Rhimehart, out."

Discussion to assure her ship is safely staying her position Renya tucks the voxbox back into her belt and resumes examining the geography on the diagrams.

    Emily doesn't need supplies. She carries everything she needs with her at all times: namely, herself.

    A staticky portal opens up, and she steps out in the form of a woman with short silver hair and glowing purple eyes, dressed in a green longcoat, a bandeau top, black jeans, and combat boots; a large silvery falchion sword rests on her back without any apparent means of holding it there. "HMMmmmmMMMMMmmmm!" She smiles her trademark amused and faintly smug smile. "Heh. Looks like it's time for another monster-hunt. Hey, captain!" She waves idly to Renya as she approaches.

Misaki comes out of the portal right after Emily. "Friend of yours?" She asks Emily. The senshi is already transformed and bows towards Renya, "Hello Captain. I'm Misaki Sakai, a pleasure." She straightens up and looks around, her gaze falling upon the diagrams and holding out one hand she begins to try to replicate them in three dimensions using her own light magic. It's not perfectly accurate, but it's fairly close.

  Flying ships probably aren't a common sight in this particular neck of the World Tree, but there one is, swooping in fast and low. It's a pretty thing: Sleek and streamlined, its engines producing a weirdly flanged electrical whine. It sets down clower to the field than the town or camp, lowering what appears to be some kind of suave magitech anchor of some sort. It buries itself into the earth and the cabling snaps taut.

  Down rolls a collapsible ladder of well-cared for rope and steel rungs with a rattle. Down climbs one impeccably dressed sky pirate and one tall woman with hare's ears sticking up through white hair.

  Both jump the last length; the woman lands in a three-point crouch and straightens, eyeing the area warily. A bow whose length pushes absurdity is slung over one of her shoulders; a quiver over her back, and her armour is... not very armourish. Calling it 'minimalistic' is probably a good start.

  The man lands in a crouch, straightens, and immediately straightens the cuff of an impeccably embroidered sleeve. Blonde, average height; as suave and sleek as that airship.

  Wait, where's the airship? The tether is leading up to the sky, and it just sort of... vanishes. Huh. Stealth.

  "Well, they're about to have an unhappy time of things," the man observes to his companion, as the two turn and start towards the others. He slings some kind of arcane-looking rifle down from his shoulder, bracing it over his arm casually. "What say we go see if we can earn ourselves a bit of gil, hmmm?"

  The woman doesn't answer. He doesn't seem particularly concerned. Their path takes them closer towards the others, although they stop at an appropriately polite, even reserved, distance, and--

  Oh hey, that's a face he actually knows.

  "Captain Rhimehart." The sky pirate lifts his chin incrementally, and though his face is mostly neutral, there's a glimmer of amusement in those hazel eyes. "It's been something of an age, hasn't it?" His tone is light. "Seems you've the same idea we did."

  The woman's red-brown eyes stare at the captain of the Polar Vortex, but she doesn't speak.

  Emily and Misaki are both given a long look by the man. After a moment the corner of his mouth curls. It doesn't reach his eyes.

  "So, then." He and his companion are already walking towards where the trolls are already engaging the outermost ranks; apparently, they don't have any fear of battle. "I gather we've a little troll problem, from the posting." The woman flicks one of her hare's-ears as the man continues. "I see they're busy already. Fran? What do you think?"

  She's staring intently at the battle lines. "These hume children do not know how to fight," she comments softly. Her voice is exotic: Scratchy, smoky, with bizarre inflections. "They will throw themselves forward until they break, and then they will be overrun."

  The man shrugs off his rifle, inspecting it casually. "So it would seem. All right, then. If no one else has any plans we ought be aware of, I suppose we're as prepared as we can be."

  Neither of them seem particularly worried. No introductions; apparently they either haven't thought of it, or don't think it necessary.

  Wait a minute, wasn't there a wanted poster with these two on it a few towns away...?

    At Renya's proclamation that she is the first rescuer, Ozan stops lurking around the edges and butts in. "Pardon me miss, but you would be the /second/ salvor to arrive." He walks up to join the gathering assortment with a slight swagger. "Though if we're counting off-worlders, you've got a point. Anyway, name's Ozan the Magnificent. Dashing rogue, maybe you've heard of me?" While he's talking himself up, going on and on about his exploits, how he once saved a giant behemoth from this evil beastmaster...

    ...a certain commander has his own issues. "No, Sir Amik, the Imperial Guard has it under control, now if you'll excuse me I've got adventurers to brief." Looking up from his commorb - a crystal ball that by all appearances is this world's version of FaceTime - the harried commander turns his focus to everyone gathering around, giving a nod of appreciation ot Misaki's 3D map before starting his briefing.

    "Name's Commander Denulth, and I'm the head of operations around here. You all here to help out? Fantastic. So we luckily got only one major front to worry about today, the choke point up to Death Plateau." He motions out to that northern mess of plateaus and mesas in a vibrant panoply of greys and browns. True to his description, a rather large plateau stands out - presumably the referenced Death Plateau given the maps - with a path leading from it to Burthorpe proper. Or it would lead there, if a fortified wall hadn't been set up to stop incoming trolls. A flying boulder thuds against it as Denulth continues.

    "Right. So first off, Captain Renya, no shellackin' the plateau with blanket fire. We got civilians nearby, and I don't want any collateral damage. That goes for everyone here. Second... our main problem is coming from that plateau. The trolls have the main route to and from there heavily guarded, and they've got their own camp well-stocked too. And, as you can see, they're at our gates. Immediate concern is keeping them out of Burthorpe proper, but if we can find an alternate route up there, or better yet take their camp out entirely, I sure ain't gonna say no!" Denulth finally takes note of Balthier and Fran /completely/ ignoring him, then turns to shout to an ingoing squad of soldiers, "Keep a damn close eye on those two! I already don't like 'em."

"Close enough," is Renya's reponse to Ozan. It's not the time or place to nitpick over semantics, even for her. Especially when other greetings, and familiar voices, reach her vulpine ears. "Well, well, wasn't certain I'd lay eye upon familiar faces out here but it always be a pleasure to do so. Aye, it would seem so, mate." She gives a nod and a tip of her tricorne to Balthier. "Reputation don't make itself afterall." Flashes a charming smile at Emily and Misaki. "Sure ye lasses will be a fine help, too."

Then lowers her voice to a whisper as she leans closer to the other air pirate. "An' never hurts having some faroff places in yer praises for when you need to lay low, nay?"

Oh, here comes the man in command. Though his first remark just gets a soft snort out of the foxlady. "That's why they're holding position away from the town, Commander." Did no one eavesdrop on the conversation she had on the communcator? Oh well. "Those cannons be made for broadside sieges, not counterstrikes."

Then folds her hands behind her back as she leans over a little to examine the map. "Least ye know where they're comin' from... unless they try to pincher from another direction as well." She tilts her head to look sidelong at Denulth. "You tell me if yer kind of trolls be that clever or not."

    Emily shrugs in response to Misaki's question. "We met each other once," she says in an overly-decisive tone. "Hmm ... Ozan the Magnificent, huh? I'll have to show you my own magnificence, so we can, like ..." She gestures vaguely. "Compare notes, that kind of thing."

    She nods to Commander Denulth. "Nyx-model Eudaemon Emily," she says. "I'm a magical robot who's actually three quintillion smaller machines rolled up into a ball." (Nothing about her appearance is particularly ball-like.) "In addition to being magnificent, I am also fabulous."

    She brightens, though, as she sees Balthier and Fran's approach. "Oh hey, I know those guys, too!" she says cheerfully. "Also met them exactly once." ... It's been long enough that they might not recognize her, even though she has the same voice and glowing purple eyes.

    Her tone as she turns back to Commander Denulth and says, "And I'm a shapeshifter!", and the swirl of what appears to be silvery glitter as she transforms into a female version of Balthier but with a palette-swapped outfit and hair and with the same glowing purple eyes? That might jog their memory.

    This time, though, she promptly changes back. "Anyway," she says, nodding her head towards the plateau where it's visible over the wall, "once we've dealt with the immediate front lines, I can take us right to their doorstep with the same kind of portal Misaki 'n' me used to get here. Should save us a bit of time."

Misaki gets a few glowing dots on her map labelled by names. Labelled: Cmdr. Denulth; Nyx-M. Emily; Sakai, M.; Cptn. Rhimehart; Ozan ???; Sketchy Man; Sketchy Harelady. The last two are in gray while the others are in green. She keeps track of positions more or less as she heads for the frontline and manifests Joyous.

Rather than use the gun however, she generates a series of cones of flashing light in differing colors. The light is aimed purely at the trolls, to blind and disorient.

  The sky pirate's stride is loose and long. Even though he looks as though he's moving carelessly, there's an element of calculation; of the same predator's grace that the woman with the hare's-ears shows. He tilts his head slightly to listen in on the general conversation. As Commander Denulth indicates the terrain, the sky pirate lifts his chin to regard it with feline disinterest; his companion stares with more of a hawk's focus.

  "A little rough up there," he comments.

  "Truth. But we have had worse." One of the woman's ears swivels back. Though white like her hair, the tip of each is mottled darkly, stiff and upright like a field hare.

  "Hmm." He shifts his weight, reaching up to rub at his chin speculatively. "We'll split up. You take the west, I'll take the east?"

  An' never hurts having some far-off places in yer praises for when you need to lay low, nay?

  "One must know when one's welcome has worn thin," Balthier comments, with great dignity, and a little bit of amusement. "Good to see you again, Captain Rhimehart."

  The rifle he swings back up to lean against his shoulder, one arm draped carelessly across the barrel where he supports it. Both of them are frowning as they stare at Emily, and they have exactly the look of I'm trying to remember your face and coming up short. The woman with the hare's-ears, however, seems to have a little recognition in those high-boned features.

  "Yes, I remember you." She nods, once, to Emily. "Your voice, I know. Your eyes."

  Balthier rubs his chin, before frowning a little deeper. "An impressive trick." Which explains why she wasn't--oh. Oh, hey, whoa, no. Just no. When faced with the deeply awkward and uncomfortable experience of having someone shapeshift into oneself in a different gender, well, uh, that's kind of awkward.

  }Bunny is starting to look kind of hostile. Clyde just looks a little exasperated.

  Both their attention turns to the plateau.

  "I'm afraid Fran and I are better served picking our targets from at range." He braces the rifle against his shoulder, adjusting the cuff of a sleeve. "Close combat is terribly uncivilised and messy."

  Without a word, Fran turns and lopes off into the hills. She's circling around to flank the swirl of fighting on the frontlines. Balthier stays with the group, for the moment, although every so often he glances up to mark Fran's progress. "You know," he says to no one in particular, "They say Viera never miss a shot."

    Between the combination of focus from keeping the battle going, and the stress of dealing with that Sir Amik he turned away earlier, Commander Denulth hasn't shown much reaction to all the foreign oddities presenting themselves to him. Portals, airships, robots with unusual specifications, at best this causes a single eyebrow of his to raise slightly. He does, however, react to the words and actions that he finds strategically relevant to this troll problem he's unnaturally focused on.

    "Right. Renya. To answer your question, we have a watchtower set up further along the border thataway," he gestures a good distance away from the main battle, "just in case one of those brutes finally realizes that terrain is just about traversable. They ain't discovered that yet, so safe to say it's a one-front battle today." Interrupting before he can continue, several giant boulders crash into the defensive wall one right after the other, fragmenting and sending debris into the town proper. "One aggressive front. Odds are they have their wizards waiting to join in, too. That's right, smart enough for magic, dumb enough to keep using the same path over and over to try to invade."

    Another couple boulders later, and screams can be heard on the other side of the wall. Denulth breaks from his briefing to shout across the field, "Get all our soldiers THIS side of the wall, NOW! Keep the archers posted as long as the battlements hold, but get our front line safe!" The gates open briefly to allow what's left of that front line back to relative safety, after which Denulth lets out a worried sigh. "Never seen them /this/ angry before." His attention finally turns to Emily -- and it is then he notices a few missing adventurers. Did they all go to the front lines already? Pfft, adventurers.

    "Eudaemon," he takes that as Emily's name, "think you can portal us right to the plateau now? With how hard they're charging in, I doubt their camp has a lot of defenses left, and if we can catch /them/ in a pincer..." Nevermind Fran has already started doing that. "...this'll be over quick." All business, completely ignoring the illogical nature of a robot that is magical, or many quintillions of tiny robots making a whole, or the fact that Emily is not, in fact, a ball. So many questions that Denulth just ignores.

    Ozan doesn't. He kept an eye on Fran and Balthier for a moment, but now his attention is on Emily the strange, who he taps lightly on the head with his bow. "A little too fantastical there lady, don't you think? Magical shapeshifter, fancy. Robot made up of smaller robots, clearly you're trying too hard. But you got style at least!" He's content to chat it up, occasionally looking away to track Fran's movements while he can. For the moment, he seems more interested in talking than helping...

    Meanwhile, behind the wall. The assaulting force is a rather large invasion: trolls with granite clubs shields leading the front lines, backed up by thrower trolls hucking those boulders at the gates, and - yep, they've got their geomancers coming from the rear, packing together loose dirt into even more siege boulders to fling. (And none of the trolls are paying attention to Fran sneaking around. Yet.) It's a very good thing indeed that wall is so sturdy, though it's starting to show signs of cracking... and the blinding light from Joyous is doing nothing but making those boulders less accurate. Just inaccurate enough for the fleeing soldiers to evacuate the wounded, and probably for a couple more adventurers to sneak in to the fight without getting instantly bludgeoned.

Renya Rhimehart nods to Denulth's response. "Then we hope it stays that way, while we bring the force of a wave crashin' down on their little unwanted visit." With that settled she turns and strolls out towards the actual confrontation at the barricaded wall.

If folks though magical rifles were weird and wonderous they might get a real treat when she draws her calisabre gunblade with an audible sheen. "True, it be messy at times," she remarks to Balthier. "But sometimes one cannot be picky about their options." A finger rests on the lever to cock it back, engaging the weapon's elemental properties.

It's almost a saunter to her stride as she walks right into the fracas on the frontlines with no show of fear. "Ahvast ye scowled scallywags." She levels her weapon towards the trolls and pulls the trigger. A pulse of frigid air booms from the gunblade's barrel, living up to Frostbite's name as it' inflicts those strike with the wrath of bitter cold. "Winds of ill fate blow 'pon ye now!"

    Emily ... laughs awkwardly in response to Balthier's reaction. "Yeah, sorry ..." Back in her green-longcoat'd form, she mutters, "Now I remember why I stopped doing that bullshit."

    And then the shouting and excitement start. She pauses, glancing between Renya and Misaki's retreating (advancing?) backs, and Danelth. "Well, human," she answers the latter sardonically, "I can do you one better, cuz I can give us more than just a one-way trip!"

    She smirks faintly at Ozan. "It's just how I was built, son!" she says. "Of course, with that having been said ..." She rises up off the ground, spreading her hands in an expansive gesture. "... style is all I need, baby!" She turns around to face the plateau, then lands again. "Releasing Capacitor Seals ... mm ..." She glances around at the others present. "... Three and ... Two. Yeah, should probably do Two just to get over there, huh."

    She's surrounded by three distinct auras, one silver, one gold, and one pearlescent. The first two shatter, and the other fades, and with an expansive gesture, she draws her sword and points it forward dramatically as another staticky portal opens up leading right to the edge of the encampment. The staticky part promptly turns black (though from the other side, it would look like it's turning black from the inside out). "Let's fuckin' goooooo!" she exclaims as she charges through, sword raised theatrically.

Misaki takes aim for the stone throwers, manifesting Marvelous alongside Joyous and sending a series of bolts of magic infused laser light, when she doesn't have the best angle she even slightly bends the beam of light to get a better shot.

    Once all the super special and super flashy artillery and techniques get turned against the trolls, Denulth throws his head back and belts out, "ha-HA! Take that, you troublesome White Knights!" Wait. Aren't they fighting trolls?

    And how are those trolls faringm, exactly? Half their frontline is now a single solid chunk of ice, and the other half is halted by an earthen wall that erupts from the ground to intercept Renya's ice shot. The rocky siege peters out, with a single pitiful boulder flung haphazardly into the air - hopefully whatever's under it isn't there when it lands. Due to this, the advancing force is already turning tail to retreat back to Death Plateau, where Emily has already set up her portal without incident. A sizable contingent of freshly-rested Imperial Guard soldiers quickly takes advantage of the new route, and gets to work securing the plateau. (It doesn't take much; turns out the trolls went all-in on this invasion.) They make their preparations to greet the retreating trolls. With violence.

    That's even if they can make it all the way back to the plateau. Fran proves her aim against several geomancers in the backline, Balthier's potshots end up shattering the frozen trolls into icy splinters, and Misaki makes sure the stone throwers get to feel the pain too. The throwers and frontline (the ones who haven't already been dealt with, at least) turn tail and flee back to the plateau, with only the geomancers staying to provide cover, with more earthen walls to block the shots they can. They do manage to start condensing dust around Renya and Misaki, in an attempt to trap them inside solid rock, even if their casting is severely slowed by everything else they're trying to do.

    Back at base camp, Ozan has his bow drawn, ready to fire an arrow into the fray from waaaay back there... then just smiles, shakes his head, and puts his weapon away. "Eh, I'll let them have this one. Good to have competition for once!" He's enjoying the show, even more so when he spots an important-looking knight clad in bright white armor coming up the road from the southeast... and heading straight toward Denulth. Ozan's lips curl into a knowing smirk, and he takes this cue to duck out and watch the ensuing conversation from afar...

A dramatic outward point with the blade of her weapon. "That's right ye scurvy landdogs! Run 'way with your tails between your legs!" Renya pauses. Puts a hand thoughtfully to her chin. "Wait, do trolls have tails? Or am I thinking of something else..."

Then she notices the dust getting thick in the air despite the retreating forces. "Oh bloody 'ell." The dust starts to form into rock, and rock grind together with rock to try and trap her within.

Many, MANY a man have tried to catch the cunning Renya Rhimehart though, and none have succeeded. Some filthy troll witchdoctors certainly aren't going to be the first.

As the stone forms around her the wily vixen thrusts her calisabre into it, getting it between the solidifications before it completely envelopes her. The rock that comes in contact with the frostburn steel blade has ice start to crackle back across it. The cold keeps the stone from reaching full solidity, and with a few jerks and twists Renya manages to break the brittle rock back apart to extract herself.

Well, they kept her from shooting at their fleeing backs.... For all the good it did them considering what's waiting for them back at their own camp. So she just gives the calisabre a fancy twirl in her hand and resheaths it. "I wager there won't be enough left to hassle you for some time."

As the trolls begin to retreat, Misaki stops shooting. She has no desire to add more fire to this conflict than necessary. When she notices the attempt to trap her, she quickly moves away with superhuman speed. She ends up near Ozan when she figures she's far away enough.

    Emily comes to a screeching halt when she hears Denulth's exclamation. That is, she plays an actual cartoonish screeching-to-a-stop sound effect.

    She puts her sword on her back and smirks, turning to face the commander with her hands on her hips. "Who are the 'White Knights', exactly?" she asks archly. She tilts her head as she catches sight of the approaching gleaming armor. "Oh, hey, there's one coming right now! I might not need your answer after all!"

    She seems unaccountably ... annoyed.

    Final salvoes expended, the remnants of the troll attackers find themselves at the mercy of the soldiers waiting for them at their ex-outpost. Mercy, they do not find, and after a clean-up skirmish the Imperial Guard of Burthorpe stakes claim to Death Plateau as its own bulwark against further invasions.

    Correction: further invasions from trolls. This does nothing to stop the invasion of one gleamingly-armored man arriving to the party.

    "Sir Amik, I said I had this under control!" Commander Denulth is arguing with the aforementioned man, who is presumably the Sir Amik in question. "Burthorpe is holding just fine without your army swarming in and annexing it for themselves." No indication that he caught Emily's question.

    Amik just shakes his head casually. "I just came to see how the fight was going! Looks like it went well. Glad to see it." Also no obvious indication that he caught Emily's question.

    Denulth continues protesting. "We both know full well what you're after, and it ain't happening! Your vaunted White Knights of Falador always trying to take control of any settlements they can." He flails an arm toward where Sir Amik had come from, indirectly addressing Emily's question. "Well I ain't givin' this city up to you! Trolls, goblins, knights, nobody's taking what's rightfully ours!"

    With this, Sir Amik just sighs in resignation. "As you wish. My offer remains on the table should you run out of adventurers." With that, he pivots to leave, slowly enough to remain approachable for any who want to ask him things directly.

    Once that's all done, Ozan glances away from that conversation to Misaki, smirking wordlessly, and still staying out of the commotion.

Renya Rhimehart saunters over just in time to catch the end of the conversation (to put it politely) between Denulth and Amik. Fox ears twitch against the brim of her hat as they go back and forth, and then the knight rides off again. She heard enough to know she probably doesn't like the guy very much.

"Tch," she mutters once he's on his way and out of earshot. "Always the high and mighty thinkin' they can just waltz in and put everyone else beneath em. Lemme guess," she glances to Denulth, "He be hoping the trolls would have ye beat to bloody bollocks so his order could claim the city needs better protectors as a show for subjegatin' it? Bad as the land grabby imperialists."

Misaki overhears the conversation, and shrugs slightly before walking up to Denulth. "Whenever you guys need more help, get in touch." She promises. Making sure to offer that loudly enough that Amik can hear her say that.

    Emily relaxes. "Aha," she says, turning back to her more immediate surroundings. Looks like she came to much the same conclusion as Renya.

    Of course, her relaxation isn't to last; she's still at the tail-end of the cleanup-skirmish. She charges in, sword swinging, and fires off a few golden bolts of light as well.

    "Hmm ..." She smiles, tapping her chin with the flat of her blade. "I guess that's it except for waiting for the retreaters to come back and find that they don't have a retreat."

    Denulth gives Renya a firm nod of confirmation. "Got it in one. Renya, was it? I'll see to it the local inn has room and board for you for the next few nights, at my personal expense." He extends the same offer to Misaki and Emily, also palming off those Crystal Ball FaceTime things to anyone interested. "Hopefully we can manage from here, but if it means keeping that guy off our backs... yeah. We'll reach out." Denulth is mainly just glad to have his city secure and still unoccupied.

    He then turns and starts looking for Ozan... who has disappeared. Huh. Why was he even here, anyway?

"No need, commander Denulth. My parents will get worried if I don't make it back in time for dinner." Misaki bows once again, taking one of those Crystal FaceTime thingies, "But I appreciate the sentiment."

"Let's just say I have experience with that sort of bloke," is Renya's explaination of how swiftly she grasped the situation. "But he underestimates how willin the adventurous are to do this for fame, excitement an' maybe a bit o' coin in the pockets afterwards." Then a lazy grin at his offer. "Or that. Always nice to land ho and take a load off." She doffs her hat to make a sweeping bow to the commander. "I shall graciously accept the offer. And put out some scouts to be sure none of those thugs slipped 'way from the surprise waitin' for them back home." She stands, returns the hat to her head, and turns to make full use of that reward.

Though as she's meandering into town proper the voxbox squeaks at her, coaxing it's retreval from her belt once more. "Aye, Cap'n here, what is it Magnum?... Yeah send some scouts out in the dingeys to be sure no trolls slipped outta the counter-ambush.." A pause, a tilt of her head, and then a snort as she lowers her voice to the device. "No, but I am gonna have me usual 'cultural appreciations', keep things shipshape." She clicks the device off.

'Cultural appreciations' usually means she's going to spend the night seeing what the town has to offer as far as food and drink go. Especially when it's on someone else's tab.

    Emily strides forward. "Yeah, I'm with Cap'n Rhimehart there, other things permitting." She grins cheekily to Renya. "Let's just say that the world I came from is mostly dead, but in the wider World Tree, lemme tell ya, there's never a dull moment! But for now, uh ..." She nods to Misaki. "I've got to get her back to her home. Whilst avoiding her parents," she adds under her breath. "Hang on, where'd Ozan --"

    And then she stops. "Wait," she says, turning to Denulth awkwardly. "Did you think ... that 'Eudaemon' was my name?"