The Snapa-verse

"Maybe...but we'll never know unless we go back, right?" Uluru asked. "You want this...idol right? Well, I want proof of the Change. So the clear choice in all of this is to go back into Dol-Duna and search for this idol...and if the Wetlanders do indeed have their hands on it....I've got a plan for that," Uluru stated ominously.

"That's right," Bohdana nodded slowly, still extremely wary despite feeling like she were conversing with one of her own, "Look, the Naima aren't exactly our friends so--so take that...whatever it is and I'll be on my merry way. There, you can have it for free even, I don't want any trouble."

Aisha spoke up, "The Naima Clan?" She appeared very late in the conversation, apparently having been mesmerized by her surroundings. "I, I hadn't realized your clan... was around. I..." Aisha had a lot of strong words to say about the Naima clan, but, she couldn't bring herself to say any of them.

"... I, we, the two of us, we were looking for a man... The man that the people outside are looking for. The Wetland 'traitor'. I guess it's in both of our interests to find him. I am Aisha Abdul'la, an acolyte of the Samariamus Clan, and devotee to... to the Creed. Miss, would you possibly have seen this man pass by?"

Elise studied her surroundings, the tent had an air of safety she couldn't describe. Something inside her grew excited by all she saw. The youngest girl and the woman spoke, exchanging an idol that seemed to hold value to the woman. "Wait, you said the Wetlander had that?" She thought for a moment, "He said he found the change, could this...could this be it?" Her eyes grew wide as she dug into her pockets for the remaining coins she had, dumping them into the donation plate. She couldn't help but flash a smile at the Acolyte, "Nothing happens by coincidence, I think we aren't meant to find the Wetlander anymore, we were meant to find her." She nodded to the Nomad woman. "My name is Elise Seaver, I'm from the Samariamus clan's home city of Samria."

"Now fellas..." Xaverius picked up a mug, walking over to a nearby large keg of ale. "How 'bout we just settle this over a pint? ....No? Alright, drinks on me!" He then slammed the mug into the built in tap on the ale barrel, breaking open a hole and spraying the main Wetland Solider in ale, slipping him up and knocking him to the floor, he then picks up a table and throws it at another solider, knocking them to the ground just as they draw their gun, finally he takes his weapon and throws it as hard as he can in the direction of the final solider, burying it into his chest. After the dust cleared he walked over to one of the guards, picking up their electro gun. "Huh... this could be useful..." He said to himself, looking the weapon over and testing the sights. The solider he hit with the chair then recovered and fired at Xaverius, singing his leg. "Gah! I was just healin' that!" He fired back at the solider, putting him down. He then walked over to the solider he hit with his bar and pulled the saw end out his chest, checking him down for any other valuables. "Ah... that's gonna sting for some time..." He patted the burn on his leg and sat down on a chair.

Armor clanging, Ka'Wa raced back to the town center with her full set of armor on. She had been bent on getting the wetlander out and if she was going to do it alone, it would be with her full armor on. What she hadn't realized is the Wetlander's words had come true too soon. Coming upon the bizarre, her eyes could barely take in the scene.

"Ka'Wa, you die today!" a screech sounded out from behind her and before Ka'Wa could turn around, she felt an immense weight upon her back. The portly shop owner, Davikal, had latched onto her back and was holding on by the piece of shirt he had ripped off. HE held it up to her neck, attempting to strangle her but it simply slipped down a little upon her helmet.

"Uh, owner?" she asked timidly, having recognized the voice. "Is this because I wanted to take off early?"

Dustin kind of just watched as the wanderer Xaverius took out two of the Wetlanders for good single handed and sat down like the wound on his leg was next to nothing. He was beginning to be thankful he had accepted the hug rather than start something.

A small groan broke the silence of the short scuffle followed by scraping and movement as the one soldier covered in ale began to go for his weapon on the floor. vel Iz'Raphel quickly strode over to the man and kicked the gun away and out of his hands. A gloved hand grabbed the Wetlander by his black collar and yanked him up to his feet. The man was about average height, meaning both Dustin and Soren easily had several inches on the guy.

"You come into our lands and simply demand whatever you please at gunpoint? I don't think so," he sneered.

With a few quick movements the Kassellander slammed the man's face down onto the bar, delivered a few punches to the jaw, and lashed out a swift kick to the chest to cement the KO. "The Atzerii send their regards." He spat on the body and looked to the company he had found in the bar. "We should probably leave and find the one they're looking for. It seems that I'm going to have to eat my words."

"Give me a bit an I'll join you, getting zapped in a leg you were previously bitten on isn't the most pleasant thing to experience." He gave his leg a rub and got up, walking over to Dustin. "I'll go with you I guess, not like I have anythin' better to do. By the way, is it okay if we stop of somewhere to eat? That fightin' worked up my appetite and I've got all this tech I can use to get food." Whilst Dustin had been dealing with the last Wetlander, Xaverius had taken one of their guns for himself and dismantled the other two, stuffing the components into his bag.

Honestly, Whisper never expected to see the drunk giant move so quickly. Though she was thoroughly shocked to see the violence he was capable of, she was still impressed. Dustin's behavior was more on par with what she expected of him.

"We could have escaped en route you know? Or at least I could have." Picking up what seemed to be the last remaining mug of ale in the tavern, she chugged it. It was warm and half empty. With a sigh, she wiped her mouth and returned her hood over her head. "Now we are going to be hunted for murder. Lovely." Her salty attitude leaked into her voice, but one could hardly blame her.

After picking up one of the soldier's arms and dropping it back to the floor, she turned to Sören and pulled a fire starter from her pack. With a wicked grin, she warned, "I'm going to burn down the tavern. There will be less chance of them tracking us. It should buy us a short time to escape." This would be fun.

"Oh boy, time to see if my old legs still work." Xaverius grinned, getting ready to move as soon as he needed to.

Moment's after Duneyrr had entered the tavern and made his way over to where Sören and his new companions were seated at the bar, three men in odd looking uniforms busted down the door as they stormed into the room. Each man was armed with a firearm of some sort. Sören had seen just enough of them to understand what the odd looking things where. Most of the ones he had seen made a loud noise and then something ended up dead. These, however, smelled of ozone, which made the northman curious.

Duneyrr, perhaps wisely after what came next, decided to move off to the side, scaring off some of the patrons who had decided to stick around and watch. Soon there was just the eight of them in the bar, and the cowering bartender hiding behind the counter. It looked as if fighting could be avoided, until the bartender ousted the lot of them, at which point the Wetlander soldiers, guards, whatever they were, turned hostile once more. It wasn't until they drew their weapons on the group that Sören made to stand, but at the same time the one called Xaverius stood as well, and offered the men a drink. For a moment Sören thought he was using the same tactics that the northman himself had used on Dustin moments earlier, but in what seemed like the blink of an eye, two men lay dead on the floor. Another blink and Dustin had knocked the final man unconscious. He wasn't dead, Sören thought, but he wouldn't be getting up any time soon.

"That is one way to deal with things, I suppose." Sören says to the men as he stands and dawns his cloak and helm once more. He turns to Whisper as she speaks to him and nods, a grim expression on his face. All the patrons had fled, and after giving him a death glare, the owner decided it was best to do the same. "Give me just a moment."

Stepping behind the now empty counter, Sören first finds the crystals he had spent earlier in the night and pockets them. He also takes the odd bits of metal Xaverius had used for bartering and hands them back to the man. There, what he was looking for, the dusty old glass bottles of spirits. One was half empty, another full. Taking the full one for himself, he pours the contents of the other along the bar as he moves back around to where the other stand. Duneyrr comes to him and he straps the bottle to the stag before pulling free his spear.

"That should aid your efforts." The northman says as he walks over to the Wetlander, who may or may not still be alive. "No need to let him suffer for the arrogance of his leader." With that, Sören drives the point of his spear through the man's heart, just to make sure. Looking back to the others he nods as he wipes away the gore from his weapon, signally he is ready to go.

"Eh, oh! Thanks lad!" He was still somewhat tipsy, so he gave Soren a friendly hug as a means of saying thanks. "Now let's move, we're only cooking the tavern, not ourselves!" He lifted up his gut and held in his breath, trying to puff his chest out and make himself look somewhat heroic, though as soon as he let go his gut fell back down, jiggling slightly. "Heh... still need to work on my posin'." He chuckled, ready for when the time came to book it.

Dustin frowned to himself at Soren's action. It was unnecessary to kill the man. They could have simply dragged him outside of the bar before it went up in flames, but Whisper did have a point. Less material to track them by. Though the Atzerii would have gladly left the barkeep here with this flames for having given them up and so he couldn't provide their descriptions, at this point it didn't matter.

The alcohol would cause the bar to go up faster than normal. It was time to leave.

"Come, my friends. Let the Hellseherin do her thing and let's leave." He pulled the plain white porcelain mask from his pack and fastened it onto his face. It'd at least help somewhat in disguising him in case the patrons hadn't already ratted them out.

After the group of men [and horse] filtered out one at a time, Whisper set to work.

The owner of the establishment still cowered behind the bar. When Whisper set the first fire in the far corner, he jumped up and shouted angrily, "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" He was caught between trying to save his bar and eyeing the daggers on the woman's belt.

"I'm only doing what needs to be done," she stated as if she was putting down an injured animal rather than committing arson. She moved on to the next corner, and the man was pacing the length of the bar. Honestly, Whisper was a little surprised he was just letting her set fire to his property.

Finally, Whisper stood in front of the bar. At this point, the wood had begun to crackle and the temperature had raised a good amount. The Bartender finally found his backbone and stood his ground in front of her, blocking the way. "I CAN'T LET YOU RUIN MY LIFE LIKE THIS."

Whisper shoved past him and set fire to the bar. The alcohol had absorbed into the wood and it nearly exploded into flames, spreading to the ceiling and walls. "Don't worry," she called over the sound of wood breaking, "I'll pay you for the damage." The man seemed shocked. But didn't say anything else.

Once the tavern had a nice burn going, Whisper poured alcohol in front of the door. The owner made to exit, but she drew her dual daggers and blocked his path. "What are you doing?" He asked, fear shaking his voice.

"I'm only doing what needs to be done," she repeated as she slit his throat, paralytic poison working through his blood quickly. With a nod of her head, she exited the bar, dropping the final match as she went. A grim look on her face, she looked at the others, "Let's get out of here."

"'Aight. Where to?" Xaverius looked around for where they could go.

The look on Dustin's face told Sören that his actions with the last man were not appreciated. Even so, in the eyes of the northman he'd shown the man, and enemy, mercy. In his own land, had he survived such an event while failing his task, he'd have been punished severely. And if these Wetlanders were willing to send such a force out for a single man, he had little doubt they would be as harsh as his father.

Looking away from the Atzerii clan member as he smells smoke, Sören turns his attention back to the tavern, which is already filling with smoke. When the bartender made to block her way, Sören takes a step forward, intending on lending Whisper aid, but she dispatches the man quickly enough on his own, and the northman relaxes a bit and reaches out a hand to pat the head of his stag.

"As the pink one said, we will be wanted for murder now, and the burning down of this building most likely. I would suggest that we either look for the traitor leave this place." Sören says, looking one way then another down the main street. "I should gather up my things. Perhaps on the way we will find some answers?"

In truth Sören had no idea what came next. He was certain there would be more of those soldiers about, and once they learned that their men hadn't returned, found their bodies in the ruins of the tavern, the hunt would be on in full for himself and the people around him now. He was no coward, but he was no fool either. Leaving Dol-Duna seemed like the best plan, but the words of the wise woman echoed in his head again. He could never go home now, so where would he go? And what about the others? Even if he did have some place to go, he could not just abandon them. On his honor they were bound together now, and he would have to see that through.

"Sounds like a plan, I've got all my things so I'm ready to leave when you all are." Xaverius responded, giving his burnt leg a rub with his good one.

Whisper felt an unfortunate stirring in her stomach, but she just held her breath until it passed. She blinked quickly a few times and asked in a low voice, "Xav, do you need help? I could try to carry you." It was a hopeless venture, but she didn't want him to fall behind or be in too much pain. Who knew how far they'd have to run.

"Sören, didn't you have a cart? Maybe we could pull Xav along in it if necessary." She was staring off into space at this point. Though this wasn't the first time Whisper has had to kill someone, it was never easy. She chose anonymity and poisons designed to let her get away, but the men had seen her face. The bartender knew her moniker. Killing him was the best chance she...any of them... had.

"I'll be fine, Miss. I don't think you could carry my girth, no offence." Xaverius chuckled.

"If you think we have the time, then let's go get your stuff. The Wetlanders came up from the southern gate, so it might behoove us to leave through the northern one. Hopefully the man they're looking for had the sense to escape and leave Dol-Duna as soon as possible." Dustin looked from Xaverius to Soren to Whisper, studying them silently and unknowingly to them. It was one of the perks of the mask. No emotion or facial expression.

Sören looks at each of his companions in turn, then nods before turning his back to the now blazing tavern. He begins to walk, Duneyrr at his side. In the distance he can hear the sound of people shouting and hurrying about. Already the news of the incident inside the tavern has spread, and no doubt word of what happened after the arrival of the soldiers will come to light soon enough. The northman picks up his speed a bit.

Soon his wagon come into view, parked just where Duneyrr had left it. Approaching it carefully Sören takes a look around it and then inside, frowning when he sees the spilled apple barrel. He shoots Duneyrr an annoyed look but says nothing. "There should be room for the lot of you in the wagon. Duneyrr is stronger than he looks. I'll walk beside him until we get out of this accursed village. As you said, we'll head through the northern gate, after that, I'll leave the directions up to the rest of you."

"Sounds good! Hey, can we make a stop off at somewhere to eat? All this actions really made me hungry." Xaverius hauled himself into the wagon and sat down.

Whisper gave Duneyrr a gentle pat in thanks before she hopped into the wagon and settled near Xaverius. She looked up at him, practically staring straight up, "Do you want me to look at your leg?" Pulling the backpack off her back, she fished out a small first aid kit. It was the best she could do with her medical ability, she tended to just try and avoid wounds over all.

"Eh, I'm sure I'll be fine, lil' electricity won't kill me." He chuckled, his leg was slightly singed, in fact the bandage that had been put on had taken some of the hit. "Guess I better thank that Bohdana lady I met for the bandage. Either way, I'm fine." He sat back, yawning.

"They're still in town, aren't they? My idol is too. Without that we're both in trouble."

"Then why stand out here?"

Having a moment to catch his breath Thessir gave a sigh of relief. He had reason to believe however that his break was soon to end. Despite the trouble he wasn't angry or all that vexed by the wetlander, simply curious. It was at this point he spotted a strange shadow looming closer to them, approaching slowly. Looking up he saw the shadow belonged to a strange flat flying creature with a man riding atop of it.

"Wetlanders and wannabe bounty hunters alike are seeking your head. So, suffice to say, I believe you now. I assume that if you know about the Change, your fellow Wetlanders might as well. You think they might have the idol?"

"It depends how thoroughly they searched the area... And if they have it it's too late."

"Maybe... but we'll never know unless we go back, right? You want this... idol right? Well, I want proof of the Change. So the clear choice in all of this is to go back into Dol-Duna and search for this idol... and if the Wetlanders do indeed have their hands on it.... I've got a plan for that."


Thessir listened to their conversation, his mind currently running through plans of his own.

"Yes. Both of the idol and the clan are needed. The wetlander vessel is a minor obstacle. Recipes for clearing obstacles exist. Metal vessel possesses weaknesses to learn. One weakness: People. Recipes for clearing people exist."

He had one hand under his chin with the other folded under his elbow while his foot tapped. His mind was racing with plots for dealing with the people on the ship, the idea of having the whole thing to himself for studying filling him with glee. He seemed lost in such imaginations as he grinned, looking up at the brim of his hat while he came up with a variety of solutions he could make.