UNIT-407 - "Shrike"'s Story

Emrath the Bold inspects the statue.

Aylex looks at the statue while walking to to the east

Strycker stumbles slightly as all of a sudden, he's in a new place. How odd. The sudden change in scenery almost gave him vertigo, and he clutches his head for a second. He closes his eyes, then looks up. This place was way different than the dark hole he was just in. What was this place? He shoulders his weapon, and gazes around. Strange place, for sure. He looks around, noticing some banners. He's surprised to see that he does understand the language, and reads it for a second. "Do no harm to others." He wonders for a minute how they enforce that, if it's against the law to do harm. Isn't the only way to stop those doing harm to do harm? Whatever, the place seemed peaceful enough. He glances around at all the people standing around. Quite a few individuals here, and each of them seemed rather odd.

"I must return to my Empire."

His voice cut through the din of the Port's walkways. Where did he come from? Was it sheer fanaticism that propelled him forward? The answer was elusive for the scarred, and tattered Imperial officer.

Quickly, he regained his composure, and his demeanor changed, he pulled what remains of his uniform close, and surveyed his surroundings. Whatever this fantastical place was, he had a sole purpose to return home.

"I need a fresh set of clothes." He said to himself aloud.

Strycker looks up, hearing first the one that calls himself "Dances-In-Moonlight." The first thing that really struck him was the pristine white hair, then he realizes there was a question to be answered.
"I'm not sure, I assume Mr. Blackheart here knows more about that than I."
He looks off to the side as yet another new individual makes themself known. He silently watches as a man in ruined clothing walks through the port, a rather odd spectacle, but after short consideration he supposes that everything is rather odd now, so he might as well get used to it.

"Well..." Blackheart scratched his chin while Stryker put the onus of a plan on him. "I know how to get back... in theory." The Captain reached into his coat and fumbled about for a second before producing a silver sphere about the size of his fist. Holding it with one hand, he gave the other half of the sphere a few twists before pressing the primed button he had primed with the action. The sphere began to float out of his hands and it projected a three-dimensional image of the Realms.

Moonlight's eyes went wide as he pointed to a map section near the bottom, "That's Svartalfheim!"

The Captain nodded, "Yes, and we're here." He tapped a gloved finger to a section near the middle of the map, "And just on the other side is Midgard." He used his other hand to indicate a part of the map almost horizontally opposite their location. "So in theory it's just a hop, skip, and a jump away. In practice, however..."

"In practice there is a reason you are still here." Moonlight jumped quickly to the conclusion, eyeing the man up and down. He didn't want to trust the man, but for now, it seemed he had no choice. "Well, I guess it's good there's more than one of us then."

Blackheart clapped his hands together, "Exactly! What say you?" He eagerly awaited the response of the man with the broadsword. "Feel free to grab whatever, or whomever you need from the Port before we leave."

Loki, not wishing to be noticed, slinked through the shadows as the Port slowly came to life. With the leadership of Proxi away, what would become of all the refugees from the lower realms as they filtered their way into the safer bastions of the heavens and beyond?

Alas, more pockets for picking, he thought to himself before vanishing back in the direction from whence he came.