Jotun, city of Ice and Snow [The Reclamation of Creation]

Millan gropes slightly at Mishka, but is still too soused to even do that properly. Instead, he more or less stumbles into the grasp of the woman, his face falling towards her bosom but arrested by the artful manipulations of the Slayer.


"B'rrcks are eassst o' here." He slurs at her, his eyes shining with alcohol and lust at her proposition. "I'lllll get ya onta tha groundz, then we kin have some funn."


Millan will stagger towards the door under Mishka's guidance, and whether or not the rest follow, he drunkenly stumbles towards the eastern section of town, after being pointed in the right direction by Mishka. The Exalted of Malfeas probably has to hold her breath as he grins and speaks nonsensical words, things that in his drunken stupor he probably thinks are sweet nothings.


Eventually though, Millan leads you to a section of Jotun that has much better buildings and thicker walls in those buildings. Smoke rises in curling plumes from them, and most of the buildings are large. Three and four stories of heavy stone, built in the style of barracks for a hundred men each.


And the whole area has a low fence built around it. Less to keep people away and more to serve as snowbreak and marker for the encampment, you all would assume. Because as you pass through the gates, there aren't any guards out at the moment.


Millan points to one of the smaller buildings. "Gu. gu. gu.. Vistr house. We'll go vist there."
 
As Mishka leaves with the guard, she looks back at her coven with pleading eyes, eyes that say "Please come with me so I don't have to kill this man messily." But regardless of what her companions do, she accompanies the soldier out to the barracks, unmindful of both the snow and his clumsily-attempted attentions. As they approach the houses, she turns to ask him a question. "Mnemon. Is that where Mnemon is? I have to talk with him before I can do anything else, find out if he's seen a friend of mine. You can wait just a little bit, can't you?"
 
Carmine Lotus sighs and follows Mishka with a sort of defeated duty hanging heavily in her very bearing and manner, the sort of exasperation that normally accompanies some minor inconvenience. Lunar instinct to adapt takes over and she nudges into the guard's shoulder, taking one of his elbow's against her bare, dark-skinned arm. She's unnaturally warm, feverishly so--not that the guard in his stupor should notice. Once he's answered to the Infernal mistress' satisfaction, Carmine nods and takes the guard by the hand, heading off to the guest house.


"Ashes, ashes--that okay with you Mishka?" she asks as she leads him away.
 
Green Star


Green star simply smiled in return to Mishka. She waited for a few minutes before slipping out quietly, her treat nearly silent as she followed. As she slipped between city's shadows, following Mishka and the drunk, her movements seemed odd - as if they were not quite in sync with the world around her, reflections in a shattered mirror.
 
"M'mon? Ya dn't want him, d'ya?" Millan says, his skin finally has stopped extruding the alcohol smell, if only because he's dried out in the cold breeze. "He'z ov'r in.. in... tha buildn!" The drunken man points. Well, his arm wobbles between three or four of the buildings in the compound, before he slips a bit in your grip, his feet coming out from under him as his last words seemed to be too much for his befuddled, alcohol hazed mind to work out and keep him awake at the same time.


Millan has lost consciousness, the combination of cold weather and the rotgut alcohol that Mishka had bought for the soldiers taking their toll.


If you were to leave Millan out tonight in the snow, by morning he would be a frozen, alcohol soaked, human popsicle.
 
Mishka sinks her face into her starmetal-clad palm. "Oh, by the bleeding Name, what kind of idiot are you?" She picks up the unconscious soldier, slinging him over her shoulder as if he were a child. With one arm wrapped around the insensate lummox, she heads over to the nearest of the buildings indicated by the drunkard's ambivalent directions. She knocks on the door gingerly, taking great care not to break it from its hinges. "Hello? I could use a bit of help. Have a man out cold and freezing."
 
The heavy door opens after a few minutes, and the group can feel the blast of heat that emanates from within. A man, looking probably in his forties, looks out at the group. He has bright red hair that has just the slightest touch of gray, and bright blue eyes that take everyone in, including the shorter Mishka carrying the taller, heavier man on one shoulder.


"You're not with the watch, because they'd just throw him in one of the barracks. Who're you?" Suspicion colors his voice slightly, as he stares between the five of you.
 
Karst


The desert man nods, and grins in a friendly manner.


'Greetings, watchman. We are simply patrons of the tavern that met this man in the pub and felt it would be unkind of us to leave him to the Watch's... tender mercies.'
 
The man shakes his head. "Then you can go throw him in one of the barracks." He points behind you to one of the large buildings. "Standard protocol, every man knows if he can't make it back on his own, the Watch will get him back. Hell, they stand in the Watch some nights as well and have thrown their own friends back in. So, concerned patrons not from here," he looks at those of you most improperly dressed for the weather, "good evening."


The door is shut in your faces, reverberating with the force of it. A bit of snow falls from the roof and lands on Carmine.
 
Adachi


Shaking his head Adachi takes a quick survey of the outpost and when he is sure there are no obvious eavesdroppers he speaks up,


"Well that could have gone better, granted it could have gone far worse. Now we should take the errant drunk to the barracks and head back to the inn, moving forward without a plan was rather foolish. Furthermore we should see about contacting those cultists, ignorant thought they may be, they could provide useful scraps of information. We can return in the morning for a pleasant conversation with Mnemon in the morning, though I doubt he will have too much information, but I should be able to convince him to tell a family member any important information."
 
Carmine's eye twitches as the snow lands on her black, slick hair, sizzling and steaming within seconds. She visibly reddens, stamps her bare foot into the road and leaves a rather impressing layer of ash:


"I hate the Yozi-damned snow," she says, taking Millan if allowed. She ducks into a back alley and emerges with his face, his stature, his very mannerisms. She speaks in his voice, exudes his scent: forsaken Luna's illusionary prowess proves just as potent for those who've betrayed the Moon as those who hold her in their hearts. "...I'm not sure what to do now, actually," she admits, shoulders sinking. Sometimes she wonders if the cold is getting to her brain.
 
Karst


Karst sighed. 'I suppose the direct approach is entirely out of the question? I hate this skulking. And I hope you cleaned up after your meal, Carmine.'
 
"I can't eat that fast," Carmine says, thumbing towards the body at the back of the alley. She seems to have kicked some snow across it rather ineffectually. "And I wouldn't eat junk like this."
 
Grinning Mishka


Mishka nods approvingly at Carmine's disguise. "Now we simply need a plan. We can't return to the barrack we just tried, but hopefully the Dragonblood is within one of the remainder. Carmine goes out to scout, and if all goes well, he signals for us. It should be a delightfully simple plan."
 
Adachi


Shrugging his shoulders Adachi shakes his head, but after a moment he nods his head in approval a moment later,


"It is a simple plan and perhaps that will be enough. However before we move forward there are some...issues to be solved. Namely how we plan to convince this Jael Mnemon, approaching him in the morning under the guise of family is one thing, but this is another. Furthermore we don't know if this is really worth it, for all we know this Jael has no knowledge of what has occurred. Now to the last part, how are we going to proceed once we locate Jael? Are we going to adopt the subtle, peaceful route or are we going to try and subdue him? Best we decide now before we move forward, things are unorganized enough as it is, we do not need to add more chaos to the matter as we proceed."
 
As you all continue discussing standing inside the city, a light snow begins to fall, the last rays of Creation's sun reflecting through the icy air, causing a slight touch of snow blindness if any look straight down at the ground.


The air begins to chill a bit more, and you begin to realize that it's going to start getting cold enough to freeze to death tonight, or at least require Carmine to warm things up a bit if you stay out.


Especially those of you dressed for spring in the South and not early winter in the North.
 
Grinning Mishka


Mishka ponders what to do, absentmindedly tracing her fingers over her arms. Were it not for the vitriolic tattoos that hardened her flesh, the drag of starmetal gauntlets against her naked skin would leave deep gouges across her flesh, but such is the might of the Green Sun Princes. "We subdue him, kidnap him, and interrogate him. He is a single Dynast, we will conquer him with ease. The only difficulty will be leaving him alive. Once we have him in our clutches, we break his will, find out what we need to know. I cannot be beguiled by any lie, and I am sure that your patrons have bestowed such gifts upon all of you."
 
Karst


The Malefactor nodded. 'We all have our ways and means, I'm sure. In the meantime, might I suggest we go somewhere slightly warmer? After Carmine disposes of her meal properly, of course.'
 
Green Star


Green star smiled. There was an unholy fire in her eyes, and her voice had taken on a low, husky tone that spoke of hungers unsated.


It's been so long since I've... indulged. I would like to kill... we could move in swiftly... dispatch whatever guards we find. Take some hostages. Not just this Jael fellow, but perhaps a paramour, or a child. Applying pressure to such a hostage will yield more result than any interrogation we could perform on him.
 
Tarth Karst


'A... quicker solution would indeed be nice. I have no problem with more... direct tactics.'
 
Carmine turns to Green Star with exasperation in her eyes, her sloping shoulders rising in frustration as she throws her arms--the guard's arms--over her head, gesticulating wildly.


"I don't eat people! They taste terrible! I don't care how we do this so long as we do it soon--life was easier when the Althing just pointed me towards a town and told me to eviscerate. So let's do that: point me to your target, tell me what you'd like, and it will be done. And then we can go warm ourselves with a pyre built from the innocent," she proclaims, clearly disinterested in all manner of subterfuge.
 
Adachi


"Well it is unorganized, but I understand the need for urgency in this situation and the Principle of Hierarchy should forgive us for moving forward without order."


Turning to Carmine a small smile slowly spreads on his face,


"Patience. Widespread destruction and carnage is not necessary at the moment and would have an adverse effect on this operation, subterfuge may not be your strong point, but we cannot draw undue attention from those who killed the Green Sun Prince or those who would bring the fight to us."
 
Grinning Mishka


"Agreed. If we act without sufficient subtlety, it will only wound the Althing's efforts...and therefore, you surely understand why you cannot do so, akuma." Mishka places a certain emphasis on the last word, not necessarily insulting Carmine, but making clear her role in the hierarchy. "We have a plan. The plan will work, it cannot possibly fail. Your greatest task is measuring out your force, acting in proportion to what is necessary. Maim or even kill what guards you must, subdue the Dragonblooded, and we triumph. Slaughter them all and raze the city to the ground, and it will be rather embarrassing to explain our failure. So let us triumph, shall we?"
 
Green Star


Green Star looked around, her beautiful features registering boredom, her lips drawn up in a sensual pout. "Yes, yes. Can we get on with it now? I'd prefer to move on to something challenging. Or at least interesting." Idly, she held her baneclaw out in front of her, sliding her hand inches above the shimmering surface. Her reflection in the corrupted starmetal seemed to reach out towards her, and for a moment, it seemed as if the fingertips of real and reflection touched one another...
 
Green Star


The Akuma looked at the rest of the group, her hands on her hips. "So, oh mighty Princes, where to first? There are several options. Any thoughts where we should begin looking for this fellow?"
 
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