2018-03-12: The Moon Is Made of Green Vegetables

• Log: The Moon Is Made of Green Vegetables
• Cast: Morgan Newkirk, Molly Mason, Cassidy Cain, Jude Moshe, Gwen Whitlock
• Where: Meribia, Meribus, Lunar
• Date: March 12, 2018
• Summary: A group of infamous rogues, scoundrels and ne'erdowells is unceremoniously dumped in the middle of an unfamiliar port city by a flash of silver light. Naturally, they get chased by the local law enforcement immediately.

---

<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.

++++++++++++++++++++++<* Big Trouble in Little Meribia *>+++++++++++++++++++++++
++++++++++++++++++++++<* CHALLENGE - Stop Right There! *>+++++++++++++++++++++++
|Type: Entry |Dungeon Ability: Agility |Challenge Rating: 2 |
+++++++++++++< Challenge Information: >+++++++++++++
In a flash of silver light, you are whisked away from Filgaia, and appear in the middle of the port city of Meribia. Specifically, you appear in its marketplace: a bustling, busy place that is teeming with activity. Colorful stalls and tents have been placed up, where people sell handmade goods, leathers, and smithed tools and jewelry. Meribia is well patrolled, though, and the sudden flashes of silver light draw attention.

From men and women wearing polished steel helms and breastplates, carrying spears. Low-ranking Guardsmen turn and stare in your direction, before one bellows: "Stop right there!"

The chase is on!
+Dungeon Conditions: Bad Luck+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A strange day had become even stranger at the presence of that light.

The fight with Siegfried and his cohorts has left a few of their party's members depleted - all of them were injured in the ensuing fight, having only had a moment's rest before traversing out of the Pleasing Gardens and their close call with an angry Metal Demon Dragon and falling into the thick of it again. Their failure to stop the statue from breaking has left them on a cliff face overlooking the other tower, using the Heal Berries Molly had the foresight to pick from the Tree of Life, and slowly, but surely recuperating before the long journey back to the lands underneath the cloud cover below.

Well, most of them anyway. It wouldn't be the first time any of them have wondered about Gwen Whitlock's stamina when she decides to check out what is happening there.

Only they don't really get there, do they?

In the midst of their smoke break and passing Morgan's flask around, the light starts to bleed from the bowels of the central plateau. It starts as a simple glimmer that slowly spreads. It doesn't appear destructive, no explosion or corrosion occurs the moment their eyes register the phenomenon, but this is Filgaia, and they've just come from a series of baffling encounters. Nothing is ever really what it seems around here.

Looking up from where she had been crouched while bandaging the hole in Jude's shoulder, Morgan's medkit open on the ground next to her, Cassidy Cain's green, gold-shot eyes take in the growing brilliance of this latest complication come right for them like a living thing, a tidal wave of something that reeks of ancient and powerful sorcery, silver and all-encompassing.

The field is simply too big to avoid. The blonde's cigarette dangles limply from her lips in astonishment as a hand instinctively finds the seemingly innocuous knife-blade on her side, the thing she doesn't use, doesn't want to use, unless absolutely necessary - only drawn four times since she hit the surface, and activated only twice in those ten years.

But even that gesture is too slow.

"...ah, shite."

The resulting flash is blinding, liable to cook their eyeballs within their sockets, sending their bodies and minds careening through an endless sea of stars. Through the rippling haze of silver and the other hues of distant lights, if they squint, they could almost see the blue glow of Filgaia's outer atmosphere shooting farther and farther away from them. There isn't anything to hold onto, except for the belongings and supplies that are already on their person, or the friends within reach.

The rush ends in a violent stop and an unceremonious tumble of bodies in the middle of a teeming marketplace situated in the heart of...

....a port city that is utterly unfamiliar to all of them, no matter how well-traveled they are.

Colors dance from streamers left fluttering from various wooden constructs, the air heady with a mixture of different scents; spices hawked from open stalls mingling with the unmistakeable strains of street food, tanning leather, smelting metal and leavings from pack animals allowed to make tracks in these narrow avenues, salted by the brine blowing in from the nearby coastline. It is extremely crowded, every corner and alley filled with the crush of pedestrian traffic, the kind of activity that should have been continuing unencumbered were it not for their sudden appearance from out of nowhere. For a moment, it is as if time slows to a stop as footfalls pause and the locals' attentions are unerringly drawn to them.

The blonde conwoman groans, rolling over on her front, planting both her hands on the cobblestoned walk and pushing herself up slowly. "Well," she mutters. "At least we're-- "

All stares directed at them has her words slowing from between her teeth. Sharp eyes take in the bodies surrounding them, and the way they're dressed; they roam over the unfamiliar skyline and the feel of the air, temperate and mild, and devoid of the suffocating heat of Filgaia's sands. In this time of year, the only region with such weather would be Aquvy, and she is familiar enough with the archipelago to know that this is definitely not there.

"...alive...?"

The resulting silence is deafening.

Picking herself up quickly, always one to improvise at the drop of a hat, Cassidy takes a deep bow, sweeping her arm against her torso in the doing, and plants that dazzling entertainer's smile on her lips. "And there you have it, fine citizens! Yet another amazing technical illusion brought to you by Fortuna's Traveling Troupe! We'll be here all week! And for our next trick-- "

"HALT!"

A contingent of guards starts moving towards them from the local smithy; the patrol had been on break until witnessing the sudden light show that has taken up the heart of Market Row during Market Day. Armor gleams under the light of the high noon sun, a pale-gold haze in a cloudless blue sky; spears, bows and all manner of blades are brandished towards them, and all of which causes the thief to gawk openly for a few seconds. Swords aren't all that uncommon in Filgaia, but the desert world has often been too hot for plate armor. Seeing pieces of that now, she can barely comprehend it.

The group's captain points his sword towards the group. "Traveling thespians you may be but we'll still have to take you into custody in order to explain this illusion of yours to ensure that nothing heretical has occurred. What mannner of prop has been used to execute this trick?"

"M'lord guardsman, please," Cassidy continues in her most affable and gracious tone, taking several steps around and making elaborate gestures with her fingers. As the patrol's attentions turn towards the conwoman's strange gesticulations warily, she shoots an emphatic look over the man's shoulder at the rest of her party - distractions have always been particular expertise of hers and hopefully they determine this latest bit as precisely that. "We're simply trying tae make a living and every magician knows that you simply cannae divulge your greatest tricks-- "

The shackles come out.

"....ay, well, I s'pose you're all just in time tae see us perform our twist on the classic vanishing act, then!"

DG: Cassidy Cain has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward her party's challenge, Stop Right There!.

<Pose Tracker> Jude Moshe has posed.

Jude Moshe can feel the heat broiling from the self-proclaimed Lord of Calamity, even from here.

It's a sight to be scarcely comprehended -- or perhaps, not comprehended at all, depending on the spiritual eye of the person in question. A crushing force. A terrible power. For a few, brief moments as the tending to his wounds stalls within the monumental pressure of the Lord of Calamity's spiritual Domain, Jude Moshe feels as if his soul might very well drown.

He's unsure if he should feel worried, or surprised, at that sort of sentiment.

But there is a light. A grand light of silver that bends around the air like a little star born within the Pleasing Garden. Cassidy stops bandaging his wound in order to grab ahold of that knife-blade that he knows is anything but innocuous --

-- but his hand layers over hers, as if to halt the gesture entirely. His amber stare says it all.

There's no point in trying to wield a blade against something like -that-.

...ah, shite.

"Yep."

And then they are engulfed in a warp wash of warping reality.

It's like nothing he's ever experienced. Even the teleporters couldn't compare to having your very being stretched like silly-putty across a distance of hundreds of thousands of billions of miles between the seemingly tiny gap that rests between two celestial bodies. For anyone else, this new experience would likely evoke any number of reactions.

All Jude Moshe will ever remember is wondering if he was really alive the next second his amber eyes squeezed open. After all, this is Filgaia.

... But it's not that anymore, is it?

The smell of salted meat and dung mix together in all the most unpleasant ways to introduce themselves to Jude's nostrils when he first comes to. The dark yellows of his eyes take in the sight of a rain of colorful streamers, a sense of life and surging jubilance that isn't like anything he has ever seen before. He knows instantly; this isn't Ignas. It's not Aquvy. And it is most definitely not, in any stretch of the imagination, the hellhole that is Elru. This isn't anywhere he's been.

Anywhere.

And that alone is enough to make him mute in surprise as he slowly drags himself up onto his feet.

Slowly, the reporter takes in his surroundings. Digests it. Remembers everything that came before.

At least we're-- ... alive...?

"... I think the jury's still out on that one, Cassie."

Because by a first sweep, this looks exactly how he pictured paradise. Lively, colorful, vibrant.

Annoying.

His hand pushing through his dark hair, Jude is still processing everything as he follows up Cassidy's bow with an effortlessly graceful flourish of his own. It probably says a lot, just how adaptable he is. Take, for instance, the presence of the guardsmen. Plate mail, like nothing he's ever seen. No signs of any sort of ARMs on them. No recognizable uniform. These are all the things that come to Jude's mind as he takes a step forward, a hand settling on Cassidy's shoulder.

"Our troupe leader doesn't like to spoil the mystery," he begins, with a calm, friendly sort of smile. "It has a way of really ruining things for the audience. But if you insist, here's the prop we used."

Jude whistles.

...

... ...

"... Just give it a second."

... ... ...

"I swear, it's coming soo--"

• CHIRP*

And this would be the bold, metallic squawk of Jacob, flying free through unknown skies as he divebombs into the face of the nearest guard to set them all into a distracted scramble.

"Ta-da," says Jude, blandly, before s l o w l y backing away.

"Yep. Time to disappear--!"

DG: Jude Moshe has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward his party's challenge, Stop Right There!.

<Pose Tracker> Morgan Newkirk has posed.

When the light came and the magics rolled towards them like a wave Morgan Newkirk was sitting there. Watching the fight. Commenting. You know, being himself mostly. And wondering just how Gwen could keep fighting like this.

...and where she had stashed her pony and cart. Cause its always there somewhere.

But then the magics activated. The wave rolled over then and Morgan had seconds to act, seconds to do something. Anything to try to save himself...

...so of course what he grabs first is his flask.

Then he's calling towards Gwen who is seemingly so far away. Molly and Jude and Cass right there as those words of worry roll from the con-woman's lips. The fact that she's worried is A Thing you know.

But then they are gone. Ripped somewhere else by ancient magics, falling though time and space and then suddenly air as they tumble head over heels and land...without dying which is a plus...in a pile in the street.

"Someone is steppin' on my tails." He grumbles, and yes. He means tails at this point. Two white and black furred tails instead of one sandy brown one. Ears to match instead of the more familiar color as he slowly picks himself up. Dusting himself off as Cassidy goes into her usual mode...

HALT!

"Oh that can't be good..." He mutters to himself as the clank of armor and swords comes crashing down the lane. His nose pricks now as unfamiliar smells, his eyes twitch at the unfamiliar sounds. The hair on his arms starts to raise as he glances around at the staring crowd. The unfamiliar clothes and homes...

"...I don't think we're in Kislev anymore..." He mutters for a moment before turning to focus on the Guards. Cassidy looks like she is making headway at least until the shakles comes out...

And that is when Morgan steps forwards, flourishing his coat with a wide smile on his face. He says nothing at first, simply stares towards the guards, the tall powerful beastman shaking out his odd duster. Showing nothing up one sleeve. Then nothing up the other. He raises one figure for a pause and flourishes his hand...

Before sweeping that prostigious strength of his kick into the storefront of one of the market stalls, sending a cascade of melons, cloth, wood, and a suprised shopkeeper tumbling down in front of the guards.

"MY MELONS!!" Screams said shopkeeper.

"RUN FOR IT!" Shouts the white tailed fox as he turns to make sure everyone does just that.

DG: Morgan Newkirk has used his Tool Force Lash toward his party's challenge, Stop Right There!.

<Pose Tracker> Molly Mason has posed.

It was good to finally finish their little 'errand', to leave behind the sight of that flesh-consuming tree and the roar of a demon. On their latest break she'd rolled a cigarette, stretching her legs out in front of her on the sun-baked ground with a sigh as Cassidy tended to Jude.

"S'been a hell of a day," Molly sighed, lifting the cigarette to her mouth... and lifting her head at the sound of Cassidy's voice. Silver light, rushing out from the center of somewhere, too fast, too huge to escape. The gunsmith heaves an annoyed sigh and rushes to light her smoke before it can reach them. "Son of a bitch," she huffs, stubbornly sucking down a lungful even as they're dragged kicking and screaming from the surface of Filgaia.

Face-down on the ground of some mysterious, weird-ass market, Molly lifts her head enough to stare in grim satisfaction at the cigarette still clenched between white-knuckled fingers. She's slower to get up than the others, pushing up to one knee (and swiping Morgan's tails out of the way) in order to stand and ...turn vaguely pink about the face as people start staring at them all. "...Tada," she echoes, averting her gaze. what the hell what the hell what the hell

"Heretic?" she rumbles, attention caught by the sound of something familiar. The substance, yes - she'd know metal if she were blind and deaf - but plate armor? Isn't that for crazy people and ... just crazy people? She's reaching for a pistol when Morgan kicks the stall over and everything goes to shit. "Those were perfectly good melons," she informs Morgan, blandly. Squinting one eye shut, she lifts her cigarette and flicks it.... right at the loud-mouthed guardsman's eyes. Grabbing onto the fox's shoulder with an iron grip, she uses his own speed to help her keep pace as they run.

DG: Molly Mason has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward her party's challenge, Stop Right There!.

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

There's a reason Gwen's a super courier, as opposed to your regular everyday courier. No matter where the job, if it's in Ignas, and there's no pesky things like closed borders or wars in the way, Gwen can get it there!

And it seems today she's extending her services to Lunar. Not that she... realizes it yet.

Also relevant: Gwen Whitlock's services to the Ignas area have been temporarily halted due to unforeseen circumstances.

"U-uhn..." Gwen rises up from the unceremonious pile of bodies, massaging her temple. "... Is this... the afterlife? Cause this... kinda sucks..." Well, the surroundings are noticeably more bright and lively, even if Gwen still feels that weird buzz of Malevolence floating in the general area, like an annoying sort of ringing in her ears. Still suffering from the sensory whiplash, Gwen squints. "Where th'heck are we...?"

And when did she get reunited with them?

Straightening as the guards point their swords and spears at them, the redhead's eyes travel back towards Cassidy, who seems similarly dazed. But only temporarily. Something about a troupe, and Jude follows along.

Gwen'd be a lot better at this if she had gotten a nap in. Or some food. Both would be good. Instead, she does the only thing she can think of: play dumb. Which is actually sort of easy right now, because she's still recovering from a long, lonnnng exhausting battle. And she sort of looks the part, too.

"Nothing 'heretical'?" The courier blinks her grey blue eyes at the guards. "There's an official way to do magic tricks? Like how? Honestly, I wanna know what we did, 'cause I'd like to never do it again." Squinting back towards Morgan, she belatedly asks, ".... did you.... get a hair cut...?" Or the opposite of a hair cut. A -hair gain-.

A lit cigarette, a mechanical bird, and- oh god Morgan, why did you have to waste all those melons?!- they're off. Gwen lags behind them, blindly running down through the streets.

This is a weird feeling, not really knowing where anything is.

DG: Gwen Whitlock has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward her party's challenge, Stop Right There!.
DG: The party led by Cassidy Cain has passed this challenge! The party gained 15 exploration! If anyone needs to use party management commands, do so now. Otherwise, the next round's GM may begin the next round with +dungeon/draw.

<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.

+++++++++++++++++++++<* Big Trouble in Little Meribia *>++++++++++++++++++++++
++++++++++++++++++++++++<* CHALLENGE - Quick! Hide! *>++++++++++++++++++++++++
|Type: Exploration |Dungeon Ability: Wits |Challenge Rating: 2 |
+++++++++++++< Challenge Information: >+++++++++++++ When you round the next corner, you see another group of guardsmen down the street -- plus the ones chasing after you! The ones ahead of you haven't seen you yet, but they're turning this way. You need to find a place to hide in the busy market, before both groups of guardsmen catch up to you.
+Dungeon Conditions: Reckless+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A familiar hand rests on her shoulder and there's a sidelong glance at the taller, red-haired journalist at that. Her smile remains, but the sharp look lingers in those green-and-gold eyes as they climb up to meet his. They've never needed much to communicate with one another.

Our troupe leader doesn't like to spoil the mystery.

"He's so charming when he exaggerates," Cassidy tells the guardsmen lightly in a breezy aside, though she isn't quite looking at them. "I'm the costume designer. The real magician is actually-- "

And Jacob descends from the heavens.

Aside from being the cleverest member of their party, he is also adept at becoming a signal before everything happens all at once.

Morgan's own play at misdirection captures the attention of the guardsmen at their flank, giving the automaton bird enough room to swoop in relatively unnoticed until the captain himself tires of the theatrics, and turns back to Cassidy and Jude....right on time to catch Jacob in the face. The undignified squawking that generates leaves from his lips in a muffled jumble of syllables pressed against the metal bird's undercarriage. His blade swings wide in a preemptive gesture to ward people off him, which nearly nicks the front of Jude's tie and the decimated tatters of Cassidy's ruined corset.

Thankfully, they're already moving.

So are the other guards. At this latest attack against their fearless leader, they surge forward in full force - a capable formation at that, which Morgan would find vaguely familiar given his own experiences with armed forces, but also unique. His trick with the stall sends a cascade of rolling cantaloupes towards the direction of the charging guards, two swordsmen who unceremoniously trip over them. An archer trains his bow and arrow (what? who the hell uses those anymore?) towards the back of the fleeing fox and the flagging Gwen in tow, but Molly's lit cigarette finds its mark. Cinders explode from his right eyelid and he's sent stumbling backward in a howl, arrowhead launching harmlessly past Jacob.

Cassidy sidesteps and sticks out her leg. The archer tumbles further, sprawling on the ground on his back and of course, the very first thing the thief does...

...is steal his things. She grabs the bow and a handful of arrows, taking off in a streak after the rest of her party, right at Jude's heels while Morgan leads the way, Jacob's shadow in flight gliding over them as cries echo behind them.

"SHE BLINDED ME! OH GODDESS FORGIVE ME I'M TOO YOUNG TO RETIRE!!"
"MY BEAUTIFUL MELONS!"
"WHAT DEVILRY WAS THAT FLYING OBJECT?!"
"AFTER THOSE HERETICS!!"

The chase takes them through the midday crush of an extremely busy market, bodies jostled and thrown here and there either by them or the guards chasing after them. They have not given up, the sounds of clanking metal rattling after them as they dive, dodge, duck and weave through gaps between bodies or outright just bull through them.

The blonde skids to a stop, knocking an arrow into the string and aiming for one of the stands. The set-up now is reminiscent of those target practice games she remembers as a child. If she could only get the rope holding those ale kegs in place...

She pulls it back. She sets it loose...

"OW, MY ARSE!"

...and misses entirely. The expression on her face is indescribable.

"...I've forgotten how much I hate these things."

She twists around and runs like hell, to take up the rear of the party as the rest continue to rocket forward and away from the arms of the local law. The winding avenues of Meribia's streets lead them to a open plaza that is just as crowded, typical with any city's commercial centers, but Filgaia was largely lawless and devoid of patrols. This isn't the case here, wherever they are, where, the moment they round the corner, they find another patrol directly ahead of them.

There's too many people to keep running through, clustered around storefronts and socializing within alleys. A cart slowly rolls past them, the hawker tossing bags filled with sweet-smelling, roasted somethings to waiting customers.

"NUTS! GET YOUR SWEET NUTS RIGHT HERE!"

"....ach, really?" Cassidy says, because she can't help herself. "Where the bloody hell are we?!"

Eyes slip around, and then up towards the rooftops.

"Well, if we cannae run, we probably oughtae do the other thing."

DG: Cassidy Cain has contributed a Wits Basic Action toward her party's challenge, Quick! Hide!.

<Pose Tracker> Morgan Newkirk has posed.

"You know, Cass." Morgan calls as they pound feet away from the guards. "Why is it we get zapped into a new world and the first thing that happens is we end up running from guards. Who they hell did you piss off in your last life?!"

Somwhere in this mad dash away he has managed to just scoop up Molly, trying to make sure Gwen is keeping up too as he pounds though the crowd. Cass is lithe enough to go around them like a antalope, Morgan is more like a charging rhino. Just bulling people out of the way as they try to get away from the people that....lets be honest here...have every right and reason to put them in chains.

Espicially now.

Then Cassidy has a bow and for a moment there he wonders if she actually knows how to use the thing...

...and she fires. And he realizes that she definitely has no idea how to use that thing. The sound of clinking armor and shouting voices though come from all around them as they finally find only a moment to take a breath before people might be on them again.

"The other thing?" Morgan pauses for a moment to stare at her. "I don't think setting everything on fire is gonna help much, Cass. What we need are disguises."

DG: Morgan Newkirk has contributed a Wits Basic Action toward his party's challenge, Quick! Hide!.

<Pose Tracker> Jude Moshe has posed.

The tip of a blade slices dangerously close to Jude Moshe's chest, scraping a phantom contact along the surface of his tie that sends the loose fabric a-flutter with the motion.

It's just about as clear an indication as there ever could be that it's time to move. And Jude's never been one to ignore the signs.

So, off the reporter goes with a helpful, "We can figure out the legal logistics of magic tricks later," shouted back Gwen's way before he darts out through the busy market streets, leaping past a rolling jumble of melons as he goes. Melons. -Those- are something Jude hasn't seen in awhile, especially not in Ignas. He's putting together a picture, piece-by-piece, but he doesn't have time right now to assemble the bits of it into a working order. No -- right now, all he has time for is to run.

And so, run Jude does as Jacob breaks away from the guard; the automaton's shadow cast in the clear skies serves as a decent guide as his owner weaves his way past citizenry and merchants and their carts, knocking one aside to help serve as a barrier as he goes.

Curses are lobbed at the reporter's back, and all Jude can do is give a defeated and resigned smile as he casts a look Cassidy's way, watching as she scrambles to swipe weaponry.

"I'm starting to get the suspicion," he begins, studiously, "that you might not be the best at making first impressions."

The arrow turns, is let loose --

OW, MY ARSE!

And Jude Moshe's effortlessly disaffected stare communicates a perfect 'refer to my previous comment' sentiment before he carries on.

"Well," he offers as he continues on, rounding the corner, "you keep at it. It's not like things could get any--"

And there they find another patrol.

And nuts. Lots of sweet nuts.

"... huh."

Amber eyes dart. Jacob flies, leading the way -- to point a path between the guards, that leads towards one of the more easily scaled buildings and the rooftops beyond.

"This way!" And off he goes, intent on breaking forward towards that building -- stepping on that cart to provide the leverage he needs to -leap- and start trying to make his way up towards the rooftops.

"We can worry about blending in when there's not so many... whatever these people are supposed to be on our ass." Really. Where even are they that sells sweet nuts?

DG: Jude Moshe has used his Tool Jacob toward his party's challenge, Quick! Hide!.

<Pose Tracker> Molly Mason has posed.

The sound of someone else's skin hissing underneath a cinder makes the corner of Molly's mouth curve a little.

"You've still got an eye left, don't be such a damn qui--" Morgan scoops her up and she's cut off. Drawing a pistol at the same time she just hoists herself up over his shoulder, bracing her elbows on his shoulderblade to steady her aim. "I don't feel dead," she asides to poor Gwen. Dead isn't supposed to hurt. Maybe just the dying, if you do it right.

She takes careful aim for a helmet. She doesn't feel like killing these idiots, at least not yet - though if the guards keep it up, she might just change her goddamn mind - but discouraging them's still on the table.

The gunsmoke revolver sounds like thunder in the marketplace.

"Don't be an idiot," she remarks calmly into Morgan's ear. "She clearly means shoot our way out."

DG: Molly Mason has contributed a Wits Basic Action toward her party's challenge, Quick! Hide!.

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

The smells and yells of sweet, sweet nuts draws Gwen's attention right away as they find their path temporarily impeded by the slow cart. "Man, I could really go for whatever that is, 'bout now..." the courier says, her stomach growling in agreement. Focus. "... I wonder how much they cost..."

'2 Silver', says a sign on the side. "Silver? ... Huh... I wonder what the exchange rate on that i-" FOCUS, GWEN, FOCUS. "Damn it... uh." She's about to take off her poncho, in order to change her silhouette, but she stops short of actually lifting the fabric of her hem above a few inches.

Damn. "I'd agree with you, Morgan. But it's kinda hard right now, considerin' our condition. We don't look like we're here for a picnic. We look like we wanna cause more viol-" *BANG* "-ence." The courier just gives a look of complete and utter despair as Molly lets loose "You're not the one with an ARM on your arm!" she whispers, desperation drawing the words of her whispering out in hoarse tones. "Y'think I go 'round actin' like I do in battle in publ-..."

YEP, SUPER HYPOCRITE GWEN WHITLOCK, THAT'S HER.

"I like the idea where we don't shoot, yeah." Gwen makes her way after Jacob, all too happy to leave the streets and any temptations to shoot things way, way behind. "C'mon!" She'll yank Cassidy or Molly's hand(s), if necessary. Their dominant weapon hands, especially.

DG: Gwen Whitlock has contributed a Wits Basic Action toward her party's challenge, Quick! Hide!.
DG: The party led by Cassidy Cain has passed this challenge! The party gained 15 exploration! If anyone needs to use party management commands, do so now. Otherwise, the next round's GM may begin the next round with +dungeon/draw.

<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.

+++++++++++++++++++++<* Big Trouble in Little Meribia *>++++++++++++++++++++++
++++++++++++++++<* CHALLENGE - Barrels! Barrels Everywhere! *>++++++++++++++++
|Type: Exploration |Dungeon Ability: Agility |Challenge Rating: 2 |
+++++++++++++< Challenge Information: >+++++++++++++
As you run down the street, guards hot on your heels, you see a guardsman poke his head out ahead of you. His cheeks are flushed -- apparently, day drinking is a thing for the lowest ranks in Meribia -- and an uneven but mischievous grin spreads across his face. He cuts a rope on the back of a wagon ahead of you. Then, a dozen empty barrels drop loose... and begin rolling down the street directly towards you! (And the guards behind you, too.)
+Dungeon Conditions: Hesitate+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Why is it we get zapped into a new world and the first thing that happens is we end up running from guards? Who the hell did you piss off in your last life?!

"Dinnae ken!" Cassidy shouts over the crowd at Morgan. "Maybe it's just my magnetic personality!"

She gets on her knees and takes on a slide past Jude just as he knocks another stand sideways to stall their pursuers, clearing it just a second before he sets it in the way. It effectively leaves the patrol behind them a barricade of cucumbers to get through. Cucumbers and all sorts of vegetables.

Vegetables.

In the foreground, just as the journalist makes chasing after them as difficult of an enterprise as he can, Morgan takes advantage of his Beastman's strength. Lighter bodies go flying as he charges forward, Molly in tow, and clearing the way for the flagging Gwen also as she moves off after them. Journalist and thief follow, capping off a ludicrous train of noisy people who still manage to maintain some level of party banter even while in the middle of causing mayhem in an already crowded port city.

I'm starting to get the suspicion that you might not be the best at making first impressions.

"And yet, here you are." The conwoman flashes that familiar, cutting grin at her partner's direction as she tucks away the bow and they run towards relative safety. "I'm an acquired taste. Cannae expect everyone tae buy intae it as quickly as you."

The discovery of the other patrol and Jude's directive has Cassidy twisting to follow immediately, though Morgan's remark about setting things on fire has her staring at him incredulously. "It's 'cannae run and cannae hide'!" she exclaims. "Hide, Morgan! Dinnae tell me you've nae heard that expression be-- "

The barricade's effectiveness is short lived when the cucumber-and-other-vegetables (what???) stall suddenly explodes, and a massive form encased in thick metal plate stomps forward, brandishing a giant war hammer. "CEASE AND DESIST, VILE HERETICS!" he bellows. "SURRENDER NOW AND SUBMIT YOURSELVES TO THE PURIFYING LIGHT OF THE GODDESS ALTHENA, OR SUFFER THE WRATH OF THE MIGHTY-- !"

Molly fires. The bullet pings harmlessly off the thick helm, leaving a thin trail of smoke emanating from the impact point and leaving the big man speechless. The sound of the shot explodes like thunder in the extremely crowded marketplace where passing pedestrians suddenly twist their heads to stare at the group.

Once more, a resounding silence falls over the crowd.

Followed by all the screaming.

It is the shot heard all over Meribus as what was supposed to be a peaceful day at the city's major commercial district dissolves into chaos almost immediately. Stampeding bodies run roughshod over dropped belongings and while Jude is fast enough to be able to launch himself off a cart and get a headstart into climbing the easily-scalable building, the sudden chaos makes it difficult for the rest of them to get to him.

Cassidy is still staring at the hammer-wielding behemoth when Gwen manages to grab her hand and drags her back into the direction of where Jude has taken up the lead this time, picking up her stride. And as bodies mill around her, quick fingers move to start...well...filching the pockets of everyone that makes the mistake of brushing up against her. Coinpurses, jewelry, small arms, she stuffs into her pockets with all of the practiced expertise of a veteran thief.

But she finds the same cart, and in spite of her new load, is able to launch herself forward to grab onto the nearest handhold of that building and starts climbing. They don't have much of a choice now, they could get trampled to death down there, or worse.

Which leaves us to...

SOMEWHERE ON TOP OF THE BUILDING...

In Lunar, when someone screams heresy, you wake up really fast.

This is the case of Niall Morse, who had been napping on top of the very building that their party is attempting to climb, waking up with a sudden start and a blistering hangover. He jerks up from the pile of crates he has been napping on, his hand immediately on his sword, which he tears out of the sheath in readiness to fight evil like any responsible citizen ought to do.

...except he's had a really rough night, and he topples backwards in the doing.

His heavy body falls on one of the structural supports holding aloft a few barrels of something meant to be transported elsewhere, to finish the fermentation process in peace. It breaks under his weight, leaving the platform slanting over the edge of the roof. The barrels lurch at the sudden lack of structural integrity, careening off the building's edge.

And so the brave Niall Morse stares as the barrels roll off, too heavy to stop.

"Oh, goddess, what have I done?!"

SOMEWHERE ON THE SIDE OF THE BUILDING...

This is what Jude Moshe finds whenever he looks up. He finds a barrel whooshing past him, narrowly clipping him off the wall. It ends up exploding in a shower of purple liquid below, because at this stage of the game, this supply of forbidden wine is nothing more than grape juice, clearly an added insult to injury.

But that is the only warning they will all get before barrel after barrel falls from the sky while they're all climbing up towards the rooftops.

Luckily, there are others present - this part of Meribia's commercial district is choked with buildings. There is no shortage of platforms in which to land. Unfortunately, all of them are sloped at an angle, leaving footwork rather tricky should they attempt it.

And with an added complication...

Arrows fly from the ground, streaking through the air in deadly, metal-tipped arches. It seems that the other patrol has its own archers, and while the earlier barricade has delayed the first patrol, this second one has no such problems. Shot after shot is levied at them while they attempt to try and dodge the barrels raining at them from the top.

Well, Morgan's got his work cut out for him anyway. He's the one carrying Molly.

"ARE YOU FOOKIN' KIDDING ME?" Cassidy cries from her climb up.

And she promptly nopes out of there by launching herself from the side of the building like a rocket, to land on a sloping roof...

...that sends her rolling uncontrollably along its incline.

She leans into it, flattening her back against the roof as the edge careens towards her in reckless, irresponsible speeds. She waits for it, and waits for it...

...her boots hit the edge and she throws herself forward, practically flying across buildings, pale-gold tresses drifting in the wind.

She's laughing, of course.

...she might not be laughing later if she doesn't clear the distance.

DG: Cassidy Cain has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward her party's challenge, Barrels! Barrels Everywhere!.

<Pose Tracker> Morgan Newkirk has posed.

"HIDE?! Are you kidding me? You've known me this long and you go with hide?! I have two tails and am near seven feet tall, I don't hide well!" Morgan shouts back at the con-woman. There is a sigh though before he looks towards Jude and adds. "And you totally were asking for the magnet pun. I mean left yourself wide open there man. You know she loves suckerpunches."

But then Jacob is swooping in and Molly is shooting at someone in armor and...

And he just picks up the gun-wielding foul mouthed angry woman again. "I think you made it worse!" He shouts as he turns to dash after Jude.

Hiding is a little bit out of the question now, with a gaint armored figure suddenly bursting out of no where. "WHY ARE THEY ALL WEARIN' PLATE ARMOR! I thought Filgaia was supposed to be short of metals goddamit! Who was lyin to me this whole time!"

A longer pause.

Wait silver pieces.

"...am I gonna have to learn a new damn currency?" This towards Gwen as he catches a glipse of Cass starting up the wall.

The roofs are a better option. Guy like that? In Plate armor? Might find it hard to climb.

"Go you two!" He shouts as he flings that energy rope of his up the side of the building, giving people something to climb up as he starts to sucurry up...

...and finds barrels coming down.

"You know," Calls the fox. "I'm a reasonable guy. But," He twists to the side as a barrel crashes down past him. "I've just experienced some very unreasonable things."

It crashes onto the cobbles below them and he sniffs. "AND THAT ISN'T EVEN BOOZE!"

This is the worst day.

Again the lash flies, this time to give them an anchor to a better roof that doesn't have barrels flying down it. Just...arrows flying up at them. Which is plenty of motivation to leap after Cassidy, grinning like a madman as he leaps for the other roof.

DG: Morgan Newkirk has used his Tool Force Lash toward his party's challenge, Barrels! Barrels Everywhere!.

<Pose Tracker> Jude Moshe has posed.

And yet, here you are.

The smile Jude Moshe casts Cassidy Cain's way is one lopsidedly unconcerned, even despite their bizarre situation.

"What can I say? It should be pretty obvious by now, Cassie-- "

A stall explodes. A plate-wearing behemoth of a man stomps through, his great hammer gleaming in the light like he was wielding the power of the sun against the heathens.

"-- my life hasn't exactly been filled with wonderful decision making."

And then Molly, in an effort to outdo them all in poor decision making, fires off her gun the exact moment Jude starts to scale that building's side. He hangs off it with one hand, frock coat whipping in the cool midday breeze he never thought he'd ever feel against his tanned skin as he just sort of stares at Molly. Blankly.

"Well," he speaks into the silence.

And then everyone starts screaming and rioting.

"Yep. That went just about how I thought it would."

Citizens run. Guards scramble. And as Cassidy joins him in scaling the wall, the reporter casts his amber stare down at his swiftly ascending partner.

"All this plate. The nice weather. The -vegetables-. People panicking over someone firing a gun instead of shooting them down with their own--" He heaves himself upward, amber eyes staring roofward.

"I don't think we're in Filgaia anymore, Morg--"

And then he sees the collapsing barrels.

"--huh. ... shit."

Which is just about when a barrel CRASHES just past him, very nearly crushing his skull in. "Shit!" he more eloquently proclaims, flattening himself to the building as more of those barrels come cascading down. He leaps to another segment of the building, a wooden cask CRACKING across his wounded shoulder; he chokes back the gasp of pain as the wound reopens, staining crimson through clothes that are already stained and stiffened with his blood as he ignores the flashbang of pain in favor of looking towards the other rooftops. Just in time to see -- arrows. Lots of arrows.

"I don't think they're all that happy with learning the mystery behind our magic trick!"

And with this keen observation made, Jude -leaps- -- attempting to use the falling barrels as coverage as he lands atop the same sloping roof as Cassidy, skidding across the smooth stone surface before he just -lunges- off the edge. Taking a leap of faith. He's not laughing, but, well. He looks wholly unconcerned about his wellbeing.

And that's almost the same thing, right?

DG: Jude Moshe has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward his party's challenge, Barrels! Barrels Everywhere!.

<Pose Tracker> Molly Mason has posed.

Gwen will find that what Molly lacks in agility she has in sheer dumb stubbornness and grip strength. That gun's not going anywhere, though she spares a slightly softer look for the other woman. "What's this bullshit about a 'goddess'? Molly snorts in disdain at the hyooooooge guy in plate armor. "And where the shit are they getting all this metal from?" she wonders out loud, brown eyes narrowing thoughtfully. If she had just one of those suits, the things she could do with it... Visions of new weapons dance in her mind's eye.

Outwardly, she just arranges herself a little more comfortably over Morgan's shoulder in order to hollaback at the hammer man, "EAT MY ENTIRE GODDAMN--" Whoosh!

It's probably a good thing that she can't see where they're going without more effort than she cares to exert. She just keeps her revolver leveled, ready to cover their rear(s). It's what Molly's good at, okay? "So disappear into all the chaos and shit!" she barks back at Jude. "Not like me and Morgan have the choice!" Goddamn idiot normal people, honestly, what she's supposed to do-- Molly grits her teeth to stay silent and looks down.

"...So why do you have two tails now, anyway? Stupid fox, can't even stay the same kind of fleabag--" Proto-winedrops splash across her back and hair.

At least she's not worried.

DG: Molly Mason has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward her party's challenge, Barrels! Barrels Everywhere!.

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

Goddess. Althena. Weapons no Drifter worth their salt would use in day-to-day combat, whether due to the hot metal, weight, expense, or just that ARMs would do the job so much better. Silver. Heresy.

And for the final clue, like a climatic sting in a one gella mystery novel, is the 'wine'. Which, as it comes tumbling down towards them, Gwen wonders how they keep it from fermenting.

Because of course it's Lunar. She was asking it to be Lunar.

"Ohmanohmanohmanohman-" Gwen's brain cycles through this at full speed, holding her right ARM instinctly to guard against the rain of arrows (ARROWS!!) coming right at them as she tries to get around, and in some places, over the barrels as she scales up the roof. At some point she 'slings' a bolt of plasma at one that threatens to bowl her right over, gritting her teeth when she realizes, a moment too late, that this is a bit too visible to any guards coming their way.

She's not laughing. She's crying hysterically.

It doesn't look that much different.

DG: Gwen Whitlock has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward her party's challenge, Barrels! Barrels Everywhere!.
DG: The party led by Cassidy Cain has passed this challenge! The party gained 20 exploration! If anyone needs to use party management commands, do so now. Otherwise, the next round's GM may begin the next round with +dungeon/draw.

<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.

++++++++++++++++++++<* CHALLENGE - Sealed Filgaia Door *>+++++++++++++++++++++
|Type: Exploration |Dungeon Ability: Brute |Challenge Rating: 3 |
+++++++++++++< Challenge Information: >+++++++++++++ You run down one of the narrow (though not narrowest) alleys cutting through Meribia's market. As you do, there is a flash of silver light in the air ahead of you. Then, a massive, slate-grey stone door appears before you in a flash of light... brought directly from one of the interior buildings of the Pleasing Garden. You need to do something about it quickly, because the guards are hot on your heels.
+Dungeon Conditions: Madness++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I don't hide well!

"Just means you have tae get more creative than most!" the blonde replies, seizing on the rope that the fox man provides. "Really, Morgan, you got tae lay off drinking that blue milk from those mutant cows, I mean, even Jude knows when tae stop, he's nae growing two tails!"

What? Look, it's a long story. And speaking of stories...

My life hasn't exactly been filled with wonderful decision making.

Despite their ridiculous situation, it only makes Cassidy laugh more. "Is that right?" She shoots him a look, eyes glinting with unfettered mirth. "A mystery, then, why we get along so well. I make excellent decisions all the time."

Said just before she makes that insane, high-speed leap off the rooftop.

AND THAT ISN'T EVEN BOOZE!

What's this bullshit about a goddess?

Both statements have the thief immediately flashing back to one drunken night with Noah Hawthorne, who attempted at the time to tell her everything he had learned about the moon and where the weird spiritual cancer spreading in Filgaia had been coming from. No fun, he had said, while passing her forbidden goddess liquor. No fun, and booze is outlawed.

Booze is outlawed. As in illegal. As in, probably hard to come by and not as readily accessible.

Horror twists her features in mid-flight. "Oh fook me. We're in-- "

The next roof comes up towards them quickly. She's cut off from saying the word just as Gwen realizes the same thing she does at the same time. And much like the courier herself, she almost cries at the realization. She forces her body to grow limp, letting herself bounce and use her trajectory to right herself up.

Jude manages to clear the distance as well as she does, despite his reopened wound; the bright crimson spots leaking through his tan frock coat catch her attention, but it is torn away almost immediately by Morgan as he swings in with Molly in tow...

...and the hysterically crying Gwen, her tears sparkling in the mid-day sun and carried by the cool, refreshing midday breeze, carrying notes of the ocean with it.

"....she's nae going tae make it," the conwoman realizes in an instant. With Morgan carrying Molly and Jude's arm injured, she moves with the speed that those who know her best fully expect from her. Her hand stretches out over the edge as she scrambles over the slope, fingers reaching out to grab Gwen by the wrist...

...only she miscalculates the strawberry-blonde's weight. Were she normal, she is a slip of a thing, easily buoyed by a woman built more for speed than strength. But the courier isn't exactly normal, is she? The ARM grafted to the rest of her body is a solid, weighty thing. This results in both women being struck down by gravity immediately, perhaps evidence once and for all that karma actually does exist, to exact revenge on Cassidy Cain when she claimed that gravity ought to find another job. Both bodies plummet off the roof, careening for the chaotic streets below....

...and smashing through the top of a very familiar wagon.

Gulliver lifts his head from the trough from which he is drinking all the fresh water he could ever want, ears flicking back. His familiar muzzle turns to look at the two women sprawled at the back of his wagon. He makes a sound, big, adoring eyes peering at a very familiar face...

SLUUUUUURRRRRPPPPPPP

And a massive tongue leaves a wet, warm path over Gwen's tired mien.

"Gwen!" Gulliver isn't the only critter they manage to find in their death-defying chase through an unfamiliar town. A blue windmouse suddenly latches onto her, crying big fat tears of relief. "You're alive!!"

"Gulliver, you're a bloody sight for sore eyes!" Cassidy exclaims, turning her eyes up on the roof. "I think we got us a getaway vehicl-- !"

"HALT, HERETICS!!"

It's a third patrol. Or the same second patrol. She doesn't even know anymore because all the armor is starting to look the same. "WE GOT TAE GO!" she hollers up to the rest, leaving Gwen to take up the reins. She could do it herself, but Gulliver might be more amenable to getting his muscular, horsey arse on the move if someone he knew was on his saddle.

Whenever they pile in and head on their way in what is officially now a high-speed chase through Meribia's cluttered commercial heart, there is suddenly a barricade when the wagon's wheels twist into an alley and a familiar stone door marked with strange mystical etchings appears in a flash of silvery light - beams of illumination that bear a striking resemblance to the massive wave that brought them here. While the sight of something from home may come as a relief to some...

...in the end, it's still in their way.

And arrows are still being shot at them, the clattering of hooves following their every turn and dash through the streets.

Hooves. Horses.

Horses, an important but scarce commodity in the wastes of Filgaia, are plentiful in Lunar. There is about a dozen chasing after them, with guards in armor mounted upon each.

<Pose Tracker> Morgan Newkirk has posed.

"I got one for a birthday present, what do you think woman!" Morgan is shouting at Molly even as he makes that impossible leap. Landing, sliding, clinging with a wild grin on his face. His blood sings in his ears. His smile wide and bright as he slams hard against the top of that roof and continues to slide right on down, catching himself on the edge of things as he listens to his friends shout.

In some strange way is comforting admits all the madness.

"Some poeple are just sore looses then, Jude!" He shouts back as the reporter laments their audiance. "They ain't a great audiance anyway so they shouldn't complain! A good audiance shouldn't THROW THINGS!"

This is shouted back towards the archers even as he starts to look to find an escape route...

Which is of course when Cass and Gwen loose their argument with gravity. "You have to be gorram kidding me!" He shouts as he uses a curse that isn't known anywere on Filgaia.

Speaking of which...

We aren't on Filgaia anymore Morg...

The fox stares a moment, one eye twitches. "Are we on the bloody moon. Why even...how...the Elw suck!" He finally decides as he leaps from the roof now, down onto a landing where a screaming woman slams her shutters in his face.

"Well AHHHHHHHHHH at you too!" He shouts back as he leaps off and lands next to...Gwen's wagon?

"Someone might be looking after us after all..." He calls out as he swings up on the side of the little vehicle, holding on to the wooden spar with one hand as he fishes something out with a wicked grin and holds it in Cassidy's direction, even as he hopes Gwen gets Gulliver in gear.

"Light me would ya?" He drawls, a small wrapped package in one hand. One with the maker's mark of one of Filgaia's primer firework companies.

That might give the horses behind them a pause at least, if someone can take care of the wall.

DG: Morgan Newkirk has used his Tool Everyone Loves Fireworks toward his party's challenge, Sealed Filgaia Door.

<Pose Tracker> Jude Moshe has posed.

"I think we've got very different definitions of the word 'excellent'!"

This is the last thing Jude Moshe has to say before the intrepid reporter goes skyborne. It's probably a credit to the sheer amount of experience he's accumulated over the years that he knows the best way to land without further aggravating his injuries; arrowheads split through casks, making grape juice create a veritable purple rain in the skies overhead as he soars, the mess of his dark red hair whipping wildly in the winds as he aims himself for the cobblestone through the thick, sticky droplets of juice, desperately chanting a single mantra:

"Not the coat not the coat not the coat--"

whumph

And so the redheaded journalist makes landfall in a roll, booted heels scraping stone as he rolls into an immediate run. "Cassie, I think we need to start heading east -- I can smell seawater coming from the west of here. It's probably our best -- Cassie?"

Slowly, the simple country journalist comes to a steady stop. He looks up -- and watches as Gwen and Cassidy both come crashing into the top of a wagon. A wagon that looks incredibly out of place amongst the aesthetic of this place. Jude blinks. And with a squint, he tilts his head.

"... Probably ought to say something about not looking gift horses in the mouth here, I guess."

It still takes him a second or two of incredulous squinting and Guardsmen shouting bloody murder at him more before he just manages to hop onto the back of the wagon to accept that a horse is a horse, of course.

Of course.

And so, with a leap, Jude makes himself quite comfortable in the wagon, looking like he belongs even if he's never ridden the thing before in his life. Loosing his frock coat a bit, he looks at that reopened wound with an almost clinical detachment as Gulliver peels off, hooves clapping rhythmically on stone pathways. A frown cuts across his lips.

"Yep. Lunar," he notes after Morgan, off-handedly, as if to complete Cassidy's aborted thought. "We're on Lunar." A second passes. His frown becomes a most nonchalant of smiles.

"Guess we got our getaway after all, huh? Is it everything you thought it'd be?" A second passes to allow an arrow to rip through the wagon, just over Jude's head as he ducks.

"Because it kinda is for me."

With that said, Jude starts to lean himself halway out of the wagon as he notices that telltale, silver flash. A door. They're rushing straight towards a door. A Filgaian, Elw-carved door. Out of nowhere.

"Fantastic."

To his credit, as he pulls free that large, shotgun ARM, he does his best to conceal it from the fleeing townspeople and pursuing guard as it starts to whine out a building charge --

--and fires off a single, sputtering detonation shell straight for the dead center of the door.

"FIRE IN THE HOLE."

They can blame it on sorcery if they have to. It's even technically true.

But they have enough problems as it is without making more.

DG: Jude Moshe has used his Tool Demolition Shell toward his party's challenge, Sealed Filgaia Door.

<Pose Tracker> Molly Mason has posed.

"The fuck would I know about how you get new tails, fox?" she snaps back, the fingers of her off hand dug into the back of his shirt as they sail through the air on the sheer power of Morgan's Beastman strength. She doesn't let go until they're safely(?) landed in the wagon behind Gwen's horse. Briefly, she wonders-- when a familiar dappled Appaloosa hide catches her eye. "Albert!" she calls, despite the horse being mere feet away. The animal whickers, coming over to the side of the cart. Clumsily, Molly stands and practically falls into the saddle, dragging herself to rights and grabbing the reins.

If that explosive goes off before she can get a handle on her horse, he'll spook and bolt--! The only outward sign of her sudden panic is the way the whites of her eyes show all the way around for a brief moment, and maybe the way her knuckles are stark and bloodless on the reins and pommel.

She hasn't even got her feet in the stirrups when bomb and shell blast off, and Molly clings for dear life when Albert rears up, whinnying a shrill note. "C'mon, boy--" She grits her teeth at the bump and bounce of being thrown against the saddle, bones jarring before she can urge him after the wagon with a nudge of her heels. "HYAH!"

DG: Molly Mason has used her Tool Steel-Toed Boots toward her party's challenge, Sealed Filgaia Door.

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

That's the advantage with having a deceptively humanoid looking ARM: it's really easy for someone to not even realize there's anything amiss with the courier, even if they *know* what she's hiding in that right blouse sleeve.

Also: a giant effin' disadvantage. Gwen instinctively throws her right hand for Cassidy's outstretched own, tsk'ing under her breath when she realizes her mistake. Well, maybe Cassidy's been working on her push-ups-

Nope.

Gwen shrieks, her hand still latched onto Cassidy's as they go falling down into the streets below.

Well, not quite. There's a wagon in the way.

The reinforced canvas roof would be enough for, perhaps, Cassidy to land on it without much trouble, but with Gwen's weight, it bows, then tears outright, depositing them in the back of a familiar looking wagon that is now sporting a nice sunroof.

And along with that familiar wagon, Gwen slowly realizes, is a very friendly horse and wind mouse. The former she doesn't even need to see to register; after six years of constant companionship, Gwen knows Gulliver. Hanpan's voice is a welcome comfort, bringing a fresh batch of joyful tears to her eyes. "Gulliver! Hanpan!" Gwen laughs, lenaing her head against Gulliver's own, her free hand cupping Hanpan in a makeshift sort of hug.

'HALT, HERETICS!!' Damn. "Got it! Hanpan, help me direct Gulliver!" Judging by the amount of water that's missing from the trough, the thirsty horse may be a little... slow. Leaping onto the driver's seat, she grabs the reins, checking in the back to see if Morgan and Jude have made it. But where is Molly?

Gwen spots the woman streak by on what the courier assumes is her own horse. Or hopes. "Yah!" She signals Gulliver forward, pulling from her own experience of cities in general to try to guess a possible way out. It's a stretch, but, if they just go down this alleyway...

"What the- that's from the ruins!" Gwen, now Super Obvious, fumbles with some bullets, rummaging around by touch alone underneath her poncho before slamming some into the hastily draw up sleeve of her right arm. Standing up, she presses a foot against the angled edge of her driver's seat, and stretches her ARM forward. "Aimin' now!" She angles Gulliver over, giving enough clearance for her to fire straight at the wall.

Wait, this'll mean these things can't be replenished that easily, huh.

DG: Gwen Whitlock has used her Tool ARM-ored Fist toward her party's challenge, Sealed Filgaia Door.
DG: Cassidy Cain has used her Tool Heavy Grenade toward her party's challenge, Sealed Filgaia Door.
DG: The party led by Cassidy Cain has passed this challenge! The party gained 20 exploration! If anyone needs to use party management commands, do so now. Otherwise, the next round's GM may begin the next round with +dungeon/draw.

<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.

++++++++++++++++++++++++<* CHALLENGE - FURY PIGEON *>+++++++++++++++++++++++++
|Type: Exploration |Dungeon Ability: Combat |Challenge Rating: 2 |
+++++++++++++< Challenge Information: >+++++++++++++
Pigeons are evil, vengeful animals, whether on Filgaia or Lunar. As you run through the market, you draw the attention of one such beast. It descends abruptly into your number. Talons scratch and claw! Its beak pecks and pokes! Its wings flap! And it squawks its protest right in your face!
+Dungeon Conditions: Injure+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The poor hapless woman finds herself savaged by a heretic. She also happens to be changing. So when Morgan dangles just a bit, giving him a good eyeful through the window, she blinks once, before her lips part in a scream.

...and Morgan finds himself jumping back down the rest of the way while the contents of an entire dresser explode from out the window, thrown at someone that is practiced enough in this type of situation to know not to stick around the moment someone naked starts shrieking. A puff full of face powder lands on Molly's hair.

Cassidy manages to pick off shattered wood and splinters off of herself as the rest of the group piles into the back of the wagon. With Morgan grinning broadly as he waves the firework in her direction, she reaches into her pockets to produce her tattered pack of smokes as well as that distinct, beautiful silver lighter with its ouroboros decal. She strikes the flint, and lets the small tongue of red-gold flame spark up the top of the wick, leaving Morgan to fire the small, but relatively harmless incendiary towards the horses coming after them.

"Ay, Lunar. Bloody fantastic. With its nae fun goddess and its criminalization of alcohol. Bet singing and dancing is outlawed too, and I swear tae the stars, if I somehow end up teaching an entire town tae dance in fiery rebellion against their goddess-appointed minister, I'm going tae find the nearest river and drown myself."

Dragging two cigarettes from the pack with her teeth, she lets her lighter caress the ends, cheeks hollowing out until both burn cherry red. With Gwen driving and everyone else plying their efforts against the door before them. Turning to Gwen as she gets on the driver's seat, with the blue windmouse scurrying over to the reins, she calls out through the rushing wind.

"Gwen! Jude suggested we head east! I think it's as good of a plan as any. He's right, the brine's coming from the west and sommat tells me we dinnae want tae go jumping intae the drink any time soon!"

Lips clamped tightly around her double cigarettes, she braces a foot on the wagon and lobs one of her remaining two grenades in the air. The small incendiary fires off, its adhesive back sticking into the stone. It explodes the moment Jude's demolition shell makes its impact in the center of the door and Gwen's own cannon adds onto the fray.

Behind them, Morgan tosses the firework.

Both explosions occur in unison - heavy stone door is reduced to rubble, leaving the wagon free to rush past it, crumbling the rest of it to dust and debris. Behind them, the guardsmen's horses do the same thing Molly's Albert does when confronted by suddenly loud sounds; the animals rear up, their whinnies tearing through the air. A few of their armored pursuers get dumped unceremoniously onto the ground while the rest attempt to keep their saddles as the animals buck wildly at the sudden burst of inexplicable color suddenly upon them in a scattered shower.

Cassidy drops onto a seat with a sigh, plucking one of her cigarettes out of her mouth to offer it to Jude. Fingers dig into her pockets to produce a relatively clean bandanna, looping it around his shoulder to bind the bleeding wound. She says nothing as she does this, fingers intent on producing a secure knot to keep his blood in his body where it belongs.

Jacob's shadow suddenly cuts through the planks of wood underneath them. Emerald and gold eyes lift to take in the glinting metallic bird.

"At least one of us is having it easy--"

...and a pigeon comes screaming out of nowhere. It collides right into Jacob's side, sending the glinting bird careening off course.

"What the-- !"

And then, they come.

Scores of pigeons, ejected from their sleepy roosts by their mayhem and explosions and furious at this untimely interruption of their daily siesta descend upon them with a vengeance. They aren't regular pigeons - gray and white markings are streaked with iridescent green and red, and their beady eyes glow as crimson as the ends of their cigarettes. Two viciously attack Albert's face, leaving Molly with the dangerous possibility of being outright thrown off her horse. The rest of them pour into the back of the open wagon, in an attempt to make Jude's, Cassidy's and Morgan's lives miserable.

They seem to be giving Gulliver a wide berth though. Perhaps not even they are that monstrous to attack such a sweet soul.

Hanpan, on the other hand...

"GWEN HELP ME!!" the windmouse cries as two pigeons attempt to carry him off the wagon. "I THINK I'M BEING KIDNAPPED!!!"

DG: Cassidy Cain has contributed a Combat Basic Action toward her party's challenge, FURY PIGEON.

<Pose Tracker> Morgan Newkirk has posed.

"UNHAND ME YOU BRUTES!" The windmouse shouts. Because he has heard that is what you shout when being kidnapped.

<Pose Tracker> Morgan Newkirk has posed.

"If there is anyone in this damn place to lead a religious revaluation, its you Cass." Morgan drawls as he watches the fireworks go off behind him. A flash of a wicked grin crosses his face as he watches the horses go crazy. "I love it when a plan comes together."

"Everything I thought it would be, Jude?" Morgan turns to smirk towards him. "Well there hasn't been anything on fire yet. Explosions don't count. Gotta be actual fire. Other than that, I ain't got any..." And an arrow slams into the spar next to him. "...complaints." He drawls as he reaches up to snap the arrow off.

He says this as the screaming of the woman behind him fades into the distance and he serruptisially attempts to pick some of the flung clothes off him. "Though I continually am stunned just how fast surprised women can fling objects. And they always decide to pick the heaviest ones just by natural ability."

A pause.

"Anyone need a makeup kit?"

They look like things are looking up. Even Jacob has made it as the fox turns his eyes towards the sky with a smile...and he has that hope for maybe point five seconds. Right before a shape cannons into Jacob.

"...Penelope?"

More shadows. More figures. Feathers and screams fill the air as they dive down at the little fleeing group.

"NOT PENELOPE!" She doesn't have a knife anyway so its less likely to be Josie's bird.

"Molly look out!" He shouts as he sees some of the birds go for him. His ARM flashes and the weapon that snaps into his hand is a blueish metal...pistol crossbow?

Morgan stares at it in shock for a moment in shock. Where are his guns dammit!! He spits a curse though as he raises the unfamiiliar weapon to fire quarrels towards the birds hitting Molly's poor horse.

"Gwen keep driving! And..." A pause. "...wait is that mouse talking?! What kind of place is this!"

<Pose Tracker> Jude Moshe has posed.

"Look on the bright side, Cassie --

"You might be dead before any of that happens."

Jude Moshe - optimist.

Explosions bristle across the air in twin pluming fireballs, heat radiating outward in orange-gray shockwaves of fire and force. The reporter quickly dives back into the hole-filled wagon tent, feeling the shockwaves ripple across the wagon as his gun falls back into the comfortable hiding place of his frock coat.

"Every time Morgan loses one tail, two more grow to take its place," he explains as to the nature of Morgan's multiplying (??) appendages, his voice competely matter-of-fact as he leans back against the torn material of the wagon tent. "It's a Beastman thing."

And he sounds so sure, it has to be true! (?)

Regardless, Jude is content to just relax even as the madness outside screams out just behind them and around them in the form of stumbling horses and pelting debris. As that cigarette is offered, he takes it without a second thought as if the gesture was as natural as breathing, bringing it to his lips as he stares out of the wagon's freshly-crafted sunroof out towards the clear skies beyond.

"We're on the moon, huh..." he murmurs, half to himself, smoke spilling from his lips as those amber eyes look distant.

"... Gonna make one hell of a story, I guess. If we survive, anyway."

That qualification should really just go implied at this point. Constantly implied.

It's a thought that gets tabled, however, as Cassidy approaches. Amber eyes stare at her curiously -- but Jude, similarly, says nothing as he eases his jacket down so those fingers can work a knot of fabric more securely around his shoulder, watching her as she works. His head tilts --

But whatever thoughts are in that dark yellow stare come to an abrupt end as he sees Jacob soaring through the skies. He blinks, looks up --

"Jake!"

--and reacts with a rare surge of surprise as that mechanical pigeon is collided into by way of an entire armada of pigeons.

The reporter blinks. Looks up.

"Well..." he considers for a moment, as that surprised surge of emotion fades from his expression.

"... Penelope will be happy to know we found her relatives."

And down come the dangerous, living dinosaurs, flying at them with an angry, vengeful path. Jude swats one out of the sky, and then another, really just not -shooting- them because he doesn't want to call unnecessary attention to them (moreso). And when Hanpan is gripped to be taking to their perilous pigeon paradise and presumably kept as their imprisoned princess --

-- down swoops Jacob, a glint of metal in the sky, aiming to collide into one of those two pigeons. Like a hero.

(And definitely not because it was the one that rammed into him. Jacob is selfless and noble.)

DG: Jude Moshe has contributed a Combat Basic Action toward his party's challenge, FURY PIGEON.

<Pose Tracker> Molly Mason has posed.

Poof! The powder puff bounces off of her head, leaving a white whiff of scented powder on her hair. ...Huh, it almost smells nice... Her musing is cut short by a warning from Morgan and a violent jerk of Albert's head, almost pulling the reins from her grip. The horse careens wildly to the side, head lowered as birds peck and buffet him with their wings. "Wh--"

Pigeons?

Goddamn motherfucking PIGEONS?

A bolt takes out one of the birds and Molly reaches instinctively for the other, snatching it our of the air in her grip.

There's no glow of red eyes, no sharpening of teeth. Just the frantic flapping of wings, inescapable pressure surrounding the bird's skull, and a hard flick of the wrist. The carcass gets thrown over her shoulder to be trampled into the dirt by the hooves pursuing them. "Stupid goddamn birds," she grumbles, shaking blood and a stray feather off of her fingertips.

"Morgan, you're talking," she points out, ever unhelpful. Maybe that's how she says 'thanks for saving my horse and probably me from rabid birds'.

She's wiping her hand off on the thigh of her denim pants when something crucial filters through her brain.

"What do you mean, 'no booze'?" the gunsmith growls dangerously. As if in fury, she draws a revolver again and sends a volley of bullets behind to 'dissuade' their pursuit. She's no longer aiming for armor-covered places.

DG: Molly Mason has used her Tool Gunsmoke Revolvers toward her party's challenge, FURY PIGEON.

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

'Bet singing and dancing is outlawed too-' "I think it is," says the strawberry blone, helpfully for all to hear. "East, you say? On it! ... So Morgan's like a salamander? Or one of those lizards." No, Jude, Gwen hasn't realized the truth yet

"There's an emergency kit in the compartment next to you, Cassidy!" Gwen calls over her shoulder. "Use it while ya still can. Don't think there's a return ride anytime soon." She's trying not to think too deeply on it, in true Gwen fashion. But she's going to have to, sooner or later.

Just... not now. "There's some bottles stored away there too. Best not t'take them out until we're out of sight of the guards."

Meanwhile, the loud, explody sounds make Gulliver unhappy, but Gwen is here, which makes him happy. Even if she's making her upper legthing make loud explody noises too. But now there's happy birds coming around, and Gulliver is happy again, because his person is here, and fox person and loud smokey person and more persons are here too. However, those same sounds ANGER the pigeons, who only wanted a nice, safe place to peck at the ground and socialize, doing birdy things.

"What th- damn it! These ain't nothin' like the pigeons back home!" Gwen swats the birds away with a free hand, beaks and claws drawing blood from any exposed skin they come across.

And Morgan, of all people, is the one to be surprised by Hanpan. "He's a wind mouse! From Filgaia, same as me n' you. He's stayin' here while his best buddy is... goin' through some troubles." She aims her ARM. "Hanpan! Gonna try somethin'!" She reaches her arm up, and then back behind her, into a small rucksack. "Can't believe I gotta waste my snack stash on this!"

With that, she throws the crumbs to the side, hoping the pigeons will abandon poor Hanpan in favor of something more... appetizing. For a bird, anyway.

DG: Gwen Whitlock has used her Tool Full Metal Courier toward her party's challenge, FURY PIGEON.
DG: The party led by Cassidy Cain has passed this challenge! The party gained 20 exploration! If anyone needs to use party management commands, do so now. Otherwise, the next round's GM may begin the next round with +dungeon/draw.

<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.

+++++++++++++++++++++<* Big Trouble in Little Meribia *>++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++<* CHALLENGE - A Clever Disguise! *>+++++++++++++++++++++
|Type: Final |Dungeon Ability: Wits |Challenge Rating: 2 |
+++++++++++++< Challenge Information: >+++++++++++++
You run into one of the large, open plazas of the market. Guards can be heard behind you, still shouting for you -- and there are also guards that appear on the opposite ends of the plaza, from the left... and then from the right! However, you catch something: a stall with rack after rack of local outfits. This may offer a way to blend in.

Or look ridiculous. +Dungeon Conditions: Stupify++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"What? Fook that!" Cassidy laughs incredulously, flashing that sharp smile at Morgan. "Methinks the last thing anyone needs is for me tae guide their god damn souls out of perdition!"

Jude, of course, delivers his opinion on the matter with his usual optimism, to which the blonde tilts her head at him once she's finished tying the makeshift bandage around his wound. There's a wry turn to her mouth, brows lifting to her hairline. "Dinnae I tell you before?" she wonders, still brimming with humor. "Maybe I'm just too damn pretty tae die."

And speaking of...

"Hey Morgan, toss me that makeup kit!"

Seconds before the cloud of pigeons descend upon them with a vengeance. Jude manages to swat the two pigeons coming for his eyes with the same elegant, yet ruthless efficiency that he often shows when it's time to fight for his life (or the integrity of his coat), while Morgan manages to turn around with a pistol-crossbow that fires quarrels right for the avians that are menacing Albert. Both explode in a shower of blood and feathers, clinging onto Albert's mane...and Molly's clothes.

Jacob comes to Hanpan's rescue by barreling straight into the two birds attempting to spirit the windmouse out of the wagon, knocking Hanpan back and sending him flying away as the automaton does battle with the crimson-eyed flying rats. He ends up sprawling across Gwen's lap, clutching onto her belt for dear life.

A pigeon makes the mistake of flying too close within snapping distance of Molly's gunsmith hands; she seizes it around the neck with a squawk, and she squeezes. The carcass is left behind at Albert's wake.

Gwen goes for the humane route, as expected from the super courier. While she manages to swat away a pigeon, she tosses snacks on the side, and like any bird of any stripe, most of the horde home in on them like rockets and descend upon the offering like a pack of wolves.

Without practice, Cassidy already knows she's going to be useless with a bow. She hasn't held one since she was fifteen years of age, and for reasons of her own, she never liked it. It was never her weapon of choice. So she simply opens up the makeup kit in front of her and hunts for the one thing she knows is included in any civilized woman's arsenal. She finds a bottle of perfume.

And as a pair of pigeons descend upon her, talons outstretched...

She turns around and sprays. They go down shrieking.

What do you mean no booze? Molly calls out from the side of the wagon.

"You heard me! It's outlawed! Apparently their bloody goddess dinnae take kindly tae recreational libations, nevermind that she's got a vintage named after her! Good tae know that religious hypocrisy exists on every habitable star in this god damn universe!"

Glancing at the area where the medical kit is housed, she shakes her head. "We're moving too fast," she says, reaching for it to tuck it within her jacket. "We'll tend tae the hurts later." But she doesn't let it stay where it is - at the rate this is going, they might have to abandon the wagon and take the horses. Hopefully that wouldn't be the case and while she's not a planner by nature, that doesn't mean she's incapable - she is experienced in playing the long game, after all.

And she hates it when she proves herself a prophet.

The wagon with its eastbound run takes them into the open-aired plaza; more stores, more stalls, more people plying heir wares and the scents of fresh fruit and more vegetables spicing the air. The array of produce is incredible, and really, if they can't get drunk, they can get fat, instead. The scent of cooking meat fills the air, the smell of dung and brine relatively far behind them. But the presence of so much food and whatever they use to drink in a place where alcohol is outlawed could only mean one thing:

Restaurant Row.

And it's lunchtime.

Which means everyone is here. The poor, the destitute begging for scraps - but more problematically, wealthy patrons. And with money comes security.

The horse-mounted patrol has not given up their chase. Their cohorts appear on the other side, already alerted to the presence of heretics running around, causing mayhem and wielding dangerous magic. They've already left something on fire, plumes from the wake of their earlier explosions twisting up to the heavens like a great, gray-white snake, somewhere behind them. And before they can decide to turn towards another direction, another group of armored individuals arrive.

The wagon is forced to stop in front of a cluster of small stalls that sell souvenirs....and local wear.

"...we might havetae leave the wagon and take the horses after all," Cassidy decides, vaulting out of the vehicle and using it as cover to sort through the racks. Her cigarette whittled down to the nub, she drops the filter on the ground and crushes it with her boot while quick fingers sift through the selections.

She pulls out a corset. It's too big for her.

After a considering look, she holds it up in front of Jude once he gets out of the wagon. Her grin returns on her lips. "....ay, well. Too bad Morgan wasted all those cantaloupes."

DG: Cassidy Cain has contributed a Wits Basic Action toward her party's challenge, A Clever Disguise!.

<Pose Tracker> Morgan Newkirk has posed.

A wave of his hand and the crossbow dissipears as Morgan nods in satisfaction at the destruction of the feathered rats of the air. He glances back towards Gwen for a moment though. "And I'm not a geko fox! I'm a fox fox. I'm just...a bit different from run of the mill foxes."

Like. He's from space.

And has access to innate magic.

And may grow an extra tail for every hundred years he's alive.

BUT BASICLY HE'S A FOX!

He does pitch the makeup kit to Cassidy though, he somehow knew she would want it before he adds. "And I've never seen a windmouse before. Worried me for a moment s'all..." The Drifter pauses though as they roll into the square. Only minuites ahead of persuit. Only moment ahead of security. They have to act now...

...and of course they happen to be in front of a clothes stall.

"I ain't wearin' no corset for you again, Cassidy. Get Molly to put on the dress!" Which might really be the hardest fight here.

His ears are pinnned back, tails flicking this way and that. "Besides cantaloupes don't have the right consistency or color for cleavage and you know it."

Disguises. Why is it always disguises.

What he does do though is fish though his pockets for what looks like a little sapphire gem. A nod then before he flicks it towards the poor befuddled stallkeeper.

"We'll take the lot. Right now. And the cart. You know what just take the rest of the day off."

DG: Morgan Newkirk has contributed a Wits Basic Action toward his party's challenge, A Clever Disguise!.

<Pose Tracker> Jude Moshe has posed.

"Yep," says Jude, ever-amenable.

"Just like a salamander. Morgan's just shy about it, is all. People trying to harvest tails is a real problem in the Beastman community, especially in Kislev."

And the mystery behind the Tale of Morgan's Tails grows ever-deeper.

With the impromptu tourniquet applied to his shoulder, the redheaded reporter seems content to just whittle away his cigarette in peace. He just offers a passing, lopsided hint of a smile Cassidy's way once the rest of those pigeons are dealt with, watching as they scatter off with a sigh.

"Well, I'm starting to feel more inclined to believe you about that if even a horde of angry pigeons can't get you."

But, the further they press eastward, the more Jude gets the sense that something is distinctly off here. It's the smell, first. The smell of food. Too much of it for anything other than a lot of eager vendors trying to accomodate a large amount of people. And then the sounds, the bustle. An array of shouts and chatter that fill his ears. The wagon starts to slow, and even before it is, Jude Moshe is staring at the remains of his cigarette with a wry, helpless smile.

"Luck is ever on our side," he declares, because really, bad luck still counts as luck. "Praise be to the powers that be."

And here, he makes a very haphazard holy sign that looks like a half-assed attempt at merging multiple faiths into one before just giving up on all of them halfway through.

It's an artform, really, his lack of commitment.

Soon enough, though, the redheaded reporter is leaping up and off of that wagon, stretching out as he churns through the rest of his cigarette with a steady inhale. He crushes the butt of it underfoot, hands crossing behind the back of his head as he makes his leisurely path towards the rows and rows of clothing selections. He hefts up what looks like some sort of green coat, lifting it upwards for his appraisal with a slow frown. "... Probably don't have time for a custom fitting, huh?"

He asks.

Like it is a legitimate question.

And for him, maybe it is.

So, he racks that coat again, turns around -- and finds a corset being presented his way. His head tilts. His stance shifts, like someone maybe -- just maybe -- giving a better angle from which to consider how it'd look on him.

"It's fine," he says, to Cassidy's lament, amber gaze critical.

"The color doesn't really match my eyes anyway. Thought you'd know better than that, Cassie."

And then, as Jude clucks his tongue disapprovingly, Morgan just up and tosses a precious gem at the shopkeeper.

"Damn. You're the most generous salamander I know, Morg."

DG: Jude Moshe has used his Tool Jacob toward his party's challenge, A Clever Disguise!.

<Pose Tracker> Molly Mason has posed.

She'll notice the condition of her clothes later, maybe when they're finally safe and sound (or in moon prison). At the moment, Molly can smell Cassidy's cigarette and all she can think about besides 'shooting anything that moves' is 'gimmegimmegimmegimmegimme'. She willfully ignores that in favor of guiding Albert to a halt beside the cart and the stall. Stiffly, she swings a leg over the saddle and drops heavily to the ground, only staggering on the first step. First she won't be able to get any booze, now she has to wait to roll a smoke? This planet is hell.

"Fuck you," she stage-whispers at Morgan, "You've seen me wear a dress before!" ...Hasn't he? There was that time in Marze... or... uh... Then she sees just how many little ribbons and frills are on it. A vein bulges slightly, somewhere underneath her bangs. "Fine," she grinds out, and grabs the clothing from the rack.

Dress on, pants shucked, shirt wriggled out of. She tosses the discarded clothes into the back of the wagon with a little more force than strictly necessary, partially because her shoulder harness doesn't sit right over the bodice of this stupid frock thing and also because she kind of liked those jeans. She casts her gaze about for a moment before grabbing a scarf...

It turns out that when all someone's hair is pulled back from her face and her bangs are hidden, a body looks mighty different. Sort of ladylike.

"Don't you dare stare at me you mangy polecat," she hisses in the midst of trying to cover her weapons with a shawl.

DG: Molly Mason has contributed a Wits Basic Action toward her party's challenge, A Clever Disguise!.

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

"They took to her because she stopped a war between two countries, if I'm rememberin' right." Gwen focuses on the road ahead, her lips drawn in a frown. "Came outta nowhere after centuries, walked straight into a battlefield and demanded both sides to lay down their weapons. Somethin' like that. There's a reason why there's so many knights devoted to her. Dunno where the laws against drinking n' dancing came from, but I figure we'll be findin' out more soon. More than we ever care t'know, I reckon."

Again, the group finds themselves closed off to an easy exit. The crowd obscures them a little, but it won't be for long. A quick-thinking Morgan pays a jewel to a lucky merchant, while Cassidy figures that they'd have to leave the wagon, continuing on horse.

Oh no. Oh no. Not_this_ again. The courier just seethes under the injustice of it all. She already gave up her wagon because of one bounty, and now, she's got to give it up entirely? Althena *clearly* brought it here. All her things are here.

"No."

Her lips draw firm.

"Nope, I ain't," Gwen says again, in a firmer tone. "Ain't abandoning my packages." She takes a breath. "But I got an idea."

The courier motions to the newly acquired rack of clothes. "Grab me a scarf and a cape. Load the rest of the clothes on the cart. Morgan, you get underneath the clothing. Molly, loan me your horse for a sec." She points a thumb to the rack. "Now, you three, uh, go grab some clothes n' act out something. Like, uh, love triangle? Or sibling squabble? Inheritance. Cass, you can think of somethin', right? Somethin' that'd distract the guards enough that they're not gonna care 'bout a clothing merchant." Taking the make-up kit, Gwen begins hastily begins smudging powder on her face, trying her best to obscure the freckles from view, as well as darken her eyebrows. "Bet you can do somethin' real grand, Cass. Maybe you too, Jude. Somethin' 'bout... uh. salamanders."

She's beginning to catch on.

DG: Gwen Whitlock has contributed a Wits Basic Action toward her party's challenge, A Clever Disguise!.
DG: Cassidy Cain is too exhausted to continue!
DG: Jude Moshe is too exhausted to continue!
DG: Gwen Whitlock is too exhausted to continue!
DG: Molly Mason is too exhausted to continue!
DG: Morgan Newkirk is too exhausted to continue!
DG: You have overcome the dungeon's trials! This run is a success!
DG: The party led by Cassidy Cain has successfully explored Big Trouble in Little Meribia!

<Pose Tracker> Cassidy Cain has posed.

+++++++++++++++++++++<* Big Trouble in Little Meribia *>++++++++++++++++++++++
++++++++++++++++++<* CHALLENGE - Blending Into the Crowd *>+++++++++++++++++++
|Type: Discovery |Dungeon Ability: Conclusion|Challenge Rating: 1 |
+++++++++++++< Challenge Information: >+++++++++++++
Your hastily-made disguises prove effective! The guards stop, looking each way -- and one looks right at you, but then walks on by. You have a chance to slip into Meribia's crowd, and look around the city without any fear.
+Dungeon Conditions: Treasure+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I ain't wearin' no corset for you again, Cassidy.

"It's a long story," she asides to everyone else. "And unlike his version, the truth of the matter is, it's nae my bloody fault. Morgan likes silk, he was all about it. Ask him about his bathrobe collection sometime."

Besides cantaloupes don't have the right consistency or color for cleavage and you know it.

There is always, unerringly, at every point in an adventure, where Cassidy Cain loses her shit in some way. The unexpected assessment from the fox man has her cheeks suddenly puffing out like a chipmunk's in an effort to swallow a sudden laugh. At least she has the presence of mind to do so before that bright, unrestrained laughter catches the attention of the very people they are running from. So instead, she turns away, to pick up a shirt from the hanger, and bury her face within it to smother her mirth.

Jude's seemingly sincere opinion about the corset she holds up in front of him has her choking into fabric, looking up, pale cheeks flushed with suppressed laughter and woefully unaccustomed to holding back in that way. "You sure you dinnae want tae bring this back with us just in case we decide tae switch roles as tae who's the damsel again?" she wonders, but she does put it away despite her words and starts picking through shirts and a few pairs of leather trousers, grabbing a few without a care as to the size. "I'm certain we can find you another tailor before long."

Lashes lid. She has every intention of doing some light reconnaisance anyway.

Her decimated corset peeled off her, she glances down at the damaged thing with an unreadable expression in her eyes, thumb rolling over the stitches in front - ruined now, with the steel skeleton that has protected her through many adventures poking through. There's no hope of fixing it, not really - too damaged from her fight with Berserk to be able to salvage it. She tosses it to the ground, and peels off her tattered shirt, her back to the rest, before yanking on a pale, long-sleeved affair. She doesn't bother changing her pants - they wear leather and boots here, too.

As Morgan tosses a gem to the befuddled storekeeper, a slender hand moves to delicately lift the string of pearls Gwen is still wearing, a small smile gracing her lips. "Thanks for looking after these, luv." She inclines her head. "Would nae feel complete without them."

She toys with them faintly in the leather thong that Gwen has placed them in - quite a few are missing, but the courier has clearly cared for them as if they were her own. "Would have tae find a chain, methinks," she murmurs, before looping them around her neck where they belong.

And then Gwen decides that she refuses to abandon her cart. Brows furrow, but before she can say anything, she remembers the necklace she protected and what she owes the courier.

There's a sigh, her head rolling back; a glance over at Jude. It isn't the most practical solution, but...

"Hide Molly in with Morgan," she says, recalling just what Gwen said about the goddess' origins, because it's definitely a good idea to stuff them in the back of a wagon together, in close quarters. But if the information is solid and these people are genuinely devout...

She changes out of her shirt, and puts on a humble dress. Reaching out for her partner, she pulls off the bandanna that has stoppered his open wound, leaving blood flowing free again. There's a faintly apologetic expression on her features as she does.

"C'mon luv," she says, slinging his arm around her shoulders. "Let's do our own spin on 'Get Help'."