Mayday Mayday (L 1.10)

Location: Downtown Archipelago, The Ren
Time: morning


Litch,

After a late night out at the Drunken Rat, you and your crew headed back to The Roost. In the morning, you ended up riding a perimeter with Jackdaw and Kestrel when you saw a twin-engine plane fly overhead. Kestrel suggested it must be a Tower plane. You realized it was flying low, probably coming in for a landing in the makeshift airstrip near The Tower.

As you three watched it soar overhead, the shadow flickering over the water and tops of buildings, you spotted something flying from the river up through the air, leaving a trail of smoke as it fired ever upwards. A rocket, or perhaps a missile. It slammed into the plane's tail and the pilot struggled to keep it flying. After a few minutes, the plane crashed into the upper floors of The Ren.

The Ren was once known as the Renaissance Minneapolis Hotel, a housing building that loomed over a historic train depot. When the floods came, people rushed to its spacious rooms and dry floors. Too many people. Your family told you the story of the plague that spread through The Ren, killing everyone in a few short weeks. It was so virulent that The Ren stood vacant for several decades. A haunted house amid the water.

Jackdaw cracked a joke about the plane riders jumping from a hot pan into the frelling fire. That's when you heard the roar of the engines from the Reaver gang racing towards The Ren. Kestrel pointed them out to you as they crossed the Old River - they must've shot the missile. And now that Reaver gang is going to swoop in and take whatever is so important on that plane.

The Talons from the Roost are riding up to join you, Litch. They're eager for another scrap with these Reavers. You gave them a black eye last time you scrapped. But they gave you the slip, didn't they?

Shrike is eager to take the fight to them, but Plover hangs at the back of the pack, looking a bit nervous.

What do you do?

I quickly weigh both our options, as well as our collective and individual strengths. The Reavers aren't like the common flotsam; if they're on a job, the payout promises to be lucrative. These are nasty bastards with big zercombobs, as is evident now. Everyone else avoids the Ren entirely. I don't believe it's haunted. If anything, it's another domain of the Gray Wing. But any trace amounts of the disease that wiped its population out could still linger. That gives me pause, but only a small pause.

I start giving orders. "Kestrel, Merlin. You two scout the perimeter. See if there are more Reavers, obstacles or side entrances we can use. Zeph and Mynah, take the weighted nets and spikes and plant them near the main entrances. Give us a chance to descend upon them when they arrive or depart." I glance over at Plover momentarily. I take her hesitation as fear of the Ren, though perhaps she's also afraid of taking another wound. Poor girl. But there's no time to check-in.

"Plo and J will cover our approach with the mid-range guns. Shrike takes the point of the spear." I say, referring to the formation we use when attacking. It requires both speed and ferocity and there is nobody better for the job. "Jack and I will come behind you. I don't want to engage yet, but maybe we can distract them long enough for the other teams to do their tasks. If they're stupid enough to engage with us, light them up. If they run again, don't chase. Got it?"

I scan and look at each of them in the eyes. "Everyone else might fear these zarks, but they are no match for us. The Gray Wing bless each of you. Let's do it." I throttle up and spin my craft into formation, knowing that the others will do their jobs with excellence and skill.

Your gang splits up and surges forward like water mocassins - sleek and deadly. Shrike nods at her orders and grins before urging her jet-ski faster, racing forward towards The Ren. There isn't a dock at The Ren - the building's occupants didn't live long enough to build one, so the Reavers' boats have dropped anchor or have been lashed to parts of the building with barely a care. Shrike veers right off the entrance the Reavers used to tether her jet-ski near a window, which she opens and slides inside, walking in waist-deep water with a machete out, eyes wary. She disappears into the building to go up and cause some trouble.

Kestrel returns to tell you the Reavers haven't set watches or laggards - they've all gone after their prize. Zephyr and Mynah, mother and daughter, lay traps at the entrance in case the Reavers try to escape. Merlin lets out a low whistle to draw your attention to a side entrance the Reavers missed - a balcony with broken-out windows.

When Shrike disappears inside, a part of me prays she will obey my command to not engage, the other part of me knows that she'll rely on her instinct regardless of my orders. If it were just about anyone else, I'd be irritated, but Shrike has earned my trust to make the right call in the right moment. I remember the first time she went off-script. She hadn't willfully disobeyed me, but rather changed her tactics as a result of new information she discovered while in action. Her quick-thinking ended up saving the lives of both Jackdaw and Javan. My son is now almost more loyal to Shrike than he is to me, frequently siding with her when she offers alternative ideas. After, she came to me looking sheepish. I told her that while plans and orders are necessary, she's right to throw them out when the situation changes. Trust your gut. I had said. But use your head.

In spite of that memory, I'm loathe to leave her on her own. Returning Jackdaw's grin with a thin smile of my own, I say, "It's what we were made for. Get in there after her, Jack. You too, Javan." I turn around to look at the others. "Mynah and Plover will stay to watch and cut them off if they get out with loot. The rest of us will use the side entrance Merlin found."

I grant Plover the out, but want her to have someone good in a crisis who won't be easily duped. Part of me feels guilty for thinking of my daughter in such a low view, but she's still young and inexperienced. My mind flashes back to our tense and emotional confrontation, but I just as quickly file it away. As Jack said, it's time for some fun.

Jackdaw and Javan pull their jet skis close to where Shrike left hers. In turn, they slip in through the open window that sits right at the water level and disappear into the room. Kestrel waits for you at Merlin's side entrance and they both head inside with you. The first room you enter was a guest room in this once-grandiose hotel. Lying on the bed is a rotting corpse - long dead - greenish matter dried on one side of the pillow where they laid their head one final time. Kestrel pulls a few strips of cloth out of a pack on her hip. She ties one around her mouth and nose, then hands one to Merlin and the last to you. Merlin follows her lead and covers himself up, too.



Kestrel leads the way to the door, opening it to a hallway. Merlin stops at a small fridge in the room to reach in and pull out a few red cans of some ancient drink which he stuffs into a backpack. Your crew is quick and quiet as they move through the room, taking a few items for trade later, but never stopping. In the hallway, Kestrel winds her way around a pair of corpses lying face-down in the middle of the hallway. One is holding the other in a final embrace. The air in here is heavy and thick - flecks hang in the air oddly. This building feels sick, Litch.

Merlin spots the door leading to the stairs and points it out to Kestrel. You three are moving together into the stairwell like dancers, anticipating movements without words, covering above and below as Kestrel climbs the stairs. The first landing has another corpse - a man who broke his neck when he fell down the stairs at some point decades past. You keep moving, past more dead, more stories cut short, more little tragedies. Merlin doesn't move near enough to the bodies to pick them over - he knows it's too dangerous now.

Along the wall up the stairwell you see long cracks in the paint and drywall as well as vines and sprouts of brown and green. Nature is slowly taking over here. That's when you recognize the flecks in the air, just like in the stairwell. Spores. They're spores, Litch. Some plant is spreading their seeds in the air, filling up every space with their children, growing quickly.

That realization is cut short when a shot rings from above, carried by concrete and plaster, bouncing down to your ears. The shot is followed by three more - sharp and controlled fire. Careful. Kestrel doubles her speed, moving up the stairs rapidly. Shrike must have run into something, or Jackdaw stumbled into it. But how did they get so far ahead?

What do you do?

I tie the cloth strip around the lower half of my face. It masks the stench, but is still light enough that it won't impeded my access to oxygen. I reach into the pouch at my belt to pull out a small cylindrical object that I then fit over the muzzle of the sidearm I carry for quiet jobs. I'm no marksman like Merlin, but in close quarters, I don't have to be.

As we glide over and around the bodies, I feel the disgust of the Gray Wing in the back of my mind, affecting my own emotions. This building should have been burned, obliterated. It's an abomination to leave corpses to rot above the surface of the deep. I pause when I see the vines. Nature is a powerful force that always wins in the end. But slowly. I'm even more grateful that Kestrel planned ahead with the cloth strips, though I worry even that won't be enough. Move quickly. I gesture to the others, not wanting to linger in this fetid place.

We are already moving at a faster click when the shots ring down. I tap on Merlin's shoulder twice to send him running after Kestrel to cover her. Both of them are quicker and more athletic than I am, but I do my best to keep pace as we ascend. I listen attentively as we climb, trying to pinpoint the location of all persons above: Allies, enemies, and the unfortunate souls who crash-landed here.

Kestrel and Merlin speed up the stairs - each watching after the other in their own way. They enter the twenty-eighth-floor hallway where the fight is taking place and hang back. You catch up to them, your knees screaming at you for climbing so many stairs, but you're able to keep an even keel as you watch the scene. Down the hallway are a few Reaver corpses and a few more Reavers who are surrounding an open doorway. The heat up here is oppressive, you hear and smell the fire burning from the crash. There must be fuel leaking and this part of the building is not going to stay intact for long. That must be where the airplane crash happened.

"C.mon, Janelle!" one of the Reavers - name of Hudson - bellows. "Just hand over the girls! It'd be stupid for both of ya to die in there! I thought they were your frellin' charge! You know we aint gonna kill em, they're worth too much alive!!"

"Frell you!" a woman's voice calls back, followed by a few gunshots. One of the Reavers who was hiding behind a wall falls over, squealing with pain - this woman shot him through the wall. Janelle. Edmund mentioned Janelle to you the other night. She's Parker's personal assistant and bodyguard for her and Paisley. Parker's the wife of Princy, and Paisley is their daughter.

You don't see Jackdaw, Javan, or Shrike, but they've probably gone a level up and are setting up to take down the Reavers from above.
You can't beat them - they had too much of a head start. But the best way to steal the loot is to let this fight play out. It does mean Janelle will be dead and it might mean the death of one of Princy's family, but by the time the fight's over, there will be less Reavres to deal with and you can harry them down to the traps. Easy pickings. Safe.

But blood will be on your hands.

What do you do?

I'm still grateful for my cloth facemask, but after so many flights of stairs, it's becoming a damned nuisance. But I don't dare take it off. I feel sweat rolling down my temples from the increased temperature and the exertion. Fire. I clock the obvious source of the heat. Looks like the building will burn after all. Good. Just....not yet. I half hope, half pray.

I see the bodies of fallen Reavers and immediately assume my gang took them out. But when I hear the Tower girl yell in defiance and fire a round through the drywall, I wonder if she's solely responsible. The "girls" must belong to Princy. This poor sod cannot catch a frelling break. I muse, not without sympathy. But not enough to intervene. All we need to do is wait it out and whatever is left over will be easy pickings.

But the child is vulnerable. That's the seaweed in the propeller, preventing me from carrying plan A forward. It would be unfortunate for a capable fighter like this Janelle to go down, but that's the gig. I don't have anything against Princy's wife, but she's lived in luxury. She's had an easy life that the rest of the world literally kills to obtain. Sometimes the waves don't break your way. But the child...

"New plan." I whisper in Kestrel's ear. "Those women might be the "loot" the Reavers are after. I don't want them spoiled before we can get to them. Take the stairs up and find Shrike. We're going to attack these bloody bastards from above and behind. When you hear Merlin's shotgun, get the drop on them. We'll give you a few minutes before we attack. Go!"

Kestrel takes off quickly to rush upstairs. In moments, your Talons are ready to go.

With the Reavers intent on dealing with Janelle and whoever is left on the crashed plane, they are caught unaware when the Talons attack. Shrike jumps down from the floor above, screaming her war cry as she slices her way into some fool Reaver who only got a breath to stare up and gape at her. Jackdaw jumps down on top of the wing of the plane and takes aim with his "lil Mac-10". He sprays and prays while screaming insults... and doesn't actually hit a single soul, but it is loud and chaotic enough to give cover for Kestrel and Javan to fire through holes in the ceiling on your floor. They hit several Reavers and duck out of the way before there's any return fire.

Then Merlin stalks down the hallway with his shotty, methodically firing, reloading with an audible CHOK-CHOK, and firing again. You follow and fire at a few unlucky Reavers before you're all in the middle of some serious dren.

Hudson surges past Merlin to charge right the hell at you, swinging his harppon-axe-thing weapon as he swears he's going to shove it through your frelling skull.

What do you do?

Impressive. I admire Hudson's tenacity to run straight past Merlin's fire-breathing muzzle. He's wasting a lot of breath with all of his yelling, though. You are welcome to try. He's holding his weapon out in front and slightly elevated, making it easy to watch and parry away from the skull he intends to skewer. While his focus will be on the deflected spear, he won't see the second talon serrating his his ribs. I am not automatic in combat, but I am skilled and my axes are a sinister extension of my will.

You hold up your axe at the exact angle you intended, but Hudson's overhand strike cracks the ceiling and thunders down at you. You parry it, but just barely. Your wrist screams at you in pain, but the practiced motions still flow, albeit a bit off-balanced. You skewer the bastard, yes, but it cost you (2-harm, and please roll the harm move). Hudson falls at your feet, sputtering and trying to hold in his guts.

Meanwhile, you hear a horrid twisting of metal followed by screams of alarm in the hotel rooms that hold the crashed plane. A glance through a smashed-open door and you see the plane smash halfway through the floor - the weight and the fires destroying most of the bed and carpet underneath. It shudders and slides back a could of feet, tilting as if it's going to soon fall out of the building to the watery depths.

With all the chaos and the plane starting to fall, you lose sight of Janelle and the girl. They are probably on the plane, but at this point, you can't be sure.

What do you do?

I grunt as I awkwardly parry the Reaver's unbalanced attack. My other axe slashes into his ribs, but the cut isn't clean. The impact sends jolts up the nerves of my arm and my grip loosens. I instinctively reach out to the wall to steady myself, but I misjudge its location and fall against it, hard. As I attempt to catch my breath, I hear the squealing metal. Oh frell. With a grimace, I push myself first to a kneeling position, then push off of the Reaver's knees to stand.

Perhaps a smart man would yell out orders to his men to dive into the inferno to save the prize. Perhaps there is wisdom in holding myself back. My intelligence is borne of instinct, a gut-knowing. I don't allow myself time to sit back and assess in the literal heat of a battle. With a deep breath, I yank my axe out of the Reaver's torso and sprint down the hallway toward the plane. If I'm quick, maybe I can throw the door open and grab one or all of the women.

After you and Merlin push into the Reavers and you see the plane wreckage starting to slide out of the building, you charge from the hallway into the set of ruined rooms that act as an impromptu hangar. Before you reach the door of the plane, an oblong metal thing, the door pops open and you see Janelle, still in her suit and tie, face soot-covered, but still intense. She aims a gun at your head but then lowers it slightly. Making a hasty decision, she ushers a shaken and bloody, but still mobile Parker who is carrying a frail-looking Paisley in her arms. They come out to you while Jackdaw reloads and sprays and prays to keep the Reavers back, yelling about your big, giant zercombobs.

"Aye." I respond to Janelle. "But first we need to get out of this tower. Then we'll get you three patched up." I usher them as far away from the plane as we can get while remaining in the room. "Any Reavers still out there,?" I yell to Jackdaw. Before he replies, I turn to Merlin. "Think we can rappel down to the water, mate? I don't relish going back down the stairs and I don't know if we'll have that kind of time." My eyes dart nervously over to the precariously hanging aircraft.