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Snippet #1597302

located in The Skycity of Revelation, a part of Revelation: The Cure, one of the many universes on RPG.

The Skycity of Revelation



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The Facility

Danterus looked around tentatively at the scene displayed before him, the Facility had been ransacked thoroughly, the rebels left very little standing in the escapade that had ensued during the diversionary attack on the City Garrison next to The Compound, and every second he stood there the fire in his heart began to burn even fiercer. He may have been forced into an alliance with several mages and mage-sympathizers by his father and Sir Amon, but if it meant getting one step closer to annihilating the vermin then he would wait patiently until the time to strike was right.

He hadn’t even waken up from the slight coma that pesky healer had put him in until his father and Sir Amon had doused him with a bucket of water outside one of the side-gates of the Royal Palace used by servants. How the two men had gotten him that far was a question that had been left unasked, and no answer was offered by the older men, but as soon as they started talking he knew they wanted something. Sir Amon had been too straightforward with his intentions, saying something about wanting to quell the immediate threat to the security of Revelation and what-not, but after seeing the Politician Taylor he knew better, the man was a sniveling sympathizer always pushing for reform and equality for the mages, a laughable thought for anyone who knew what they were talking about.

However that was then, and this is now, and right now they needed some way to get into the sewer system, the pesky scientist Giacomo had been more than expedient at showing Sir Amon and Danterus one of the nearest entrances, not too far from where the west wall of The Facility had stood. The young smith took one look at the massive grate that covered the opening and saw the scientist spoke true, it would definitely need more than elbow grease, but elbow grease and ingenuity were not in short supply for the cunning man. After inspecting the grating for a few minutes, looking at the thickness of the iron used along with the rest of its proportions , a few concept began to flutter through his head, some hard and some not so hard, but they would all definitely work.

Looking from the grate to Sir Amon Danterus spoke slowly yet clearly, making sure each concept was understood by his fellow team members. “Sir Amon we have several options with what to do here, but we will need the right equipment regardless of the circumstances. Our first, and quickest, option would be to break the drain cover, this is iron, not steel, and as such it is very brittle and would break easily if we took a hammer to it. The next idea would be to find a hydraulic winch, or manufacture a make-shift pulley with some rope or chain that might be lying around, the only problem is finding something sturdy enough to support the weight. As for the hole problem? Well we could always carve out some of the stone so we could fit, or send someone about as skinny as Taylor in there.”
District Beta

Garbiel glanced over the ruins of his Manor only momentarily as he turned towards the window that faced the entrance, the third story of The Forge was a meeting room that was reserved for Guild Meetings, or other special occasions that were Blacksmith-oriented. He had arranged a general meeting within the Blacksmith’s Guild after coming back from the Royal Palace after meeting with Princess Loki, Caelin Taylor, and several other members of this “crisis-prevention” crew of theirs, every one of whom he either knew or recognized from previous engagements, a good thing since there did not seem to be too many people to trust at this time. He did hate having to use his son like he was, but times were hard and men needed to be harder than the circumstances.

Scheherazade was seated quietly in the corner, no doubt wondering why they were suffering through this farce of a meeting, several other Guild Members were known to be less sympathetic towards mages, but the results would still be the same, Guild policy would require them to concede to the majority’s wishes, and all Guild business was sworn to secrecy, a statute that no one dared challenge, not even the Guild master Nethanial. The night prior she had been lodged in one of the guest quarters on the second floor of The Forge, located next to the same room that Garbiel had been healed in and was currently occupying until his Manor could be rebuilt.

The aging man stroked his bear slowly, a sure sign of his pondering, and turned towards the young woman, making the journey over to where she was seated with a few quick strides, and bending over he whispered quietly in her ear. “I have a favor to ask of you Scheherazade, I have a letter here addressed to the Guild master of the Carpenter’s Guild, now you don’t need to deliver it personally an errand boy will do. After you get done with that head back to your room for the nonce, I’m not trying to lock you up but considering our predicament caution is best utilized here; do not worry I will be there shortly to accompany you for lunch…. There is still much that we need to discuss if we will be working together.” Without waiting for a response from the young woman he withdrew the aforementioned letter and placed it in her small hands, turning back towards the rest of the Guild Members with a pained look in his eyes.