Sorry for the lack of a question last time... I had written a question, but weebly didn't save it before I posted so it wasn't there... Anyways...
Pts! Warbaron: 4, Bessie Lark: 3, Elspeth: 1
Part LXXXI: Not Enough Time
Date: Kornun 19th, 114 A.U.
Zarien dashed down the hallway of the apartment building as he hoped he would get to an elevator before the rest of the elves did. He had barely managed to fend off the elves down the trap door, but by the time they were killed, there wasn’t enough time to board the ship along with the others. Punching a button, Zarien waited as the elevator ascended to meet him.
The doors opened and Zarien had just enough time to see the orcs in the elevator before he leapt to the side. Shooting madly, bullets flung into the elevator as a crackle of lightning flew out, almost hitting him. This wasn’t going to work. Mind racing, Zarien pulled a grenade out of his belt and pulled the pin, flinging it into the elevator before jumping aside. One orc tried to escape but it was too late as Zarien shot him down. A couple seconds later the grenade went off, blowing the elevator and the orcs inside to shreds. He wouldn’t be able to fight off all the elves that would be downstairs. He needed to get out another way.
Running at one of the doors, Zarien shot at the lock a couple times before kicking it open. A dwarf turned to see him and gave a roar of anger as Zarien leapt passed him towards the window.
“Sorry!” Zarien yelled, and twisting to go back-first, threw himself out the window. Glass pierced his back as he twisted, pointing at one of the buildings and fired the zip-line to bring him over to the building. Airships flew overhead, still focused on the escaping ship of the Xavier Team. Bother.
"We’re trying to get back around to find you, but I’m not sure how we’re going to do it!” Flek said. “I just got word from Number 994 and he said he’d be able to meet us at the meeting point.”
“Just forget about me!” Zarien said as momentum carried him forward to a roof of the building he had flew to. “I’ll just escape my own way and you can pick me up outside the camp when everything’s quiet. Just get out of here and we’ll meet up later!”
“Alright,” Flek said, and the line went dead. Leaping off the building, Zarien aimed for the building furthest set apart and closest to the quarries. He had just enough line to get there and he could escape in the quarries. Zipping through the air, Zarien watched as the airships still didn’t seem to notice him. Releasing the line just before impact, Zarien flew over the parapet of the building and onto the top. And then a wave of electricity flooded his senses and everything blanked out.
“Get up.” Zarien groggily shook his head as he found himself held up by two strong elves before the presence of an orc.
“Ugh,” Zarien said, and his eyes narrowed as he tried to regain focus. “What do you want?”
“I am Number 1,314,” the orc said. “I am in charge of security at the labor camp. Who are you and why did you come here?”
If only Number 994 had been with him. Zarien knew that a 994 would easily be able to best a 1,314 in the orcish hierarchy. “My name is Zarien,” Zarien finally said. “I’m a member of the Xavier Team.” The Emperor already knew that the Xavier Team existed, so it shouldn’t be too much of a help to know that they had been here.
The information had its intended effect and Zarien watched the fear flash through Number 1,314’s eyes. If he just was able to be free, Zarien was sure that he’d be able to overpower them. Course getting out of this slave camp would be a whole other problem to deal with.
“Why are you here?” Number 1,314 spat. “According to all reliable history, Emperor Jaigran was part of the Xavier Team, not whoever you think you are.”
“We’re here to overthrow your rule,” Zarien said casually. “And whether we’re the real Xavier Team or not, we nearly killed your Emperor last Yippah, so if your Emperor is afraid of us, you ought to be too.”
“You lie,” Number 1,314 spat. “I heard nothing of an assassination attempt on the Emperor.”
“Probably because he’s too embarrassed to admit it,” Zarien retorted. “Did you hear of the Emperor’s trip to the Citadel of Tzel-Maret? It almost ended in disaster for your favorite tyrant.”
“I had heard rumors…” Number 1,314 muttered before looking up. “Very well, elf. You’ve sealed your own fate then. We’ll send you in the next transport ship to the Mothership and will send you to Emperor Jaigran to deal with. Guards, take this elf to the prison cells and guard him well. I’ll alert the Emperor about this development.”
Zarien was only in the cells for a couple hours before the guards came again to get him.
“The Emperor wants you delivered to him as fast as we can,” the one guard spat. “And so it’s off to the Mothership for you.” Zarien glowered at them as they hauled him out of the room and led him toward the transport ship, all the while trying to figure out if he could escape and if not, what he was going to say to Jaigran in order to best preserve the cause of the Xavier Team. He supposed it was too much to hope that Flek and the others would be able to rescue him. By the time they realized that they had waited long enough for him to show up at their appointed place, he would be long gone. A pit began to form in Flek’s stomach.
He was led into a metal garage, a large transport ship waiting and ready for takeoff. “They’ve put enough guards to keep you secure,” one of the guards sneered. “And the goblins aren’t going to rescue you like they did your Sla’ad companion.” Zarien jolted. Since when had the Emperor connected that the Sla’ad they had captured which the goblins had freed was the same Sla’ad that was part of the Xavier Team? Or maybe it was just too obvious.
“We’ll see about that,” Zarien spat. And with that, the guards transferred him to a new set of guards that led him into the transport ship. He was strapped down in a seat in a dark room in the center of the ship, blindfolded and gagged—as if not having a blindfold or a gag would help him much—and then the door to the cell was shut. And Zarien heard the rumbles as the transport ship took off into the sky. There was a hissing noise and Zarien thought he smelled something as his senses gave way. He realized that it was knockout gas just as he finally lost consciousness.
Question of the Day: What should Zarien say to Jaigran to best preserve the cause of the Xavier Team?
Pts! Warbaron: 4, Bessie Lark: 3, Elspeth: 1
Part LXXXI: Not Enough Time
Date: Kornun 19th, 114 A.U.
Zarien dashed down the hallway of the apartment building as he hoped he would get to an elevator before the rest of the elves did. He had barely managed to fend off the elves down the trap door, but by the time they were killed, there wasn’t enough time to board the ship along with the others. Punching a button, Zarien waited as the elevator ascended to meet him.
The doors opened and Zarien had just enough time to see the orcs in the elevator before he leapt to the side. Shooting madly, bullets flung into the elevator as a crackle of lightning flew out, almost hitting him. This wasn’t going to work. Mind racing, Zarien pulled a grenade out of his belt and pulled the pin, flinging it into the elevator before jumping aside. One orc tried to escape but it was too late as Zarien shot him down. A couple seconds later the grenade went off, blowing the elevator and the orcs inside to shreds. He wouldn’t be able to fight off all the elves that would be downstairs. He needed to get out another way.
Running at one of the doors, Zarien shot at the lock a couple times before kicking it open. A dwarf turned to see him and gave a roar of anger as Zarien leapt passed him towards the window.
“Sorry!” Zarien yelled, and twisting to go back-first, threw himself out the window. Glass pierced his back as he twisted, pointing at one of the buildings and fired the zip-line to bring him over to the building. Airships flew overhead, still focused on the escaping ship of the Xavier Team. Bother.
"We’re trying to get back around to find you, but I’m not sure how we’re going to do it!” Flek said. “I just got word from Number 994 and he said he’d be able to meet us at the meeting point.”
“Just forget about me!” Zarien said as momentum carried him forward to a roof of the building he had flew to. “I’ll just escape my own way and you can pick me up outside the camp when everything’s quiet. Just get out of here and we’ll meet up later!”
“Alright,” Flek said, and the line went dead. Leaping off the building, Zarien aimed for the building furthest set apart and closest to the quarries. He had just enough line to get there and he could escape in the quarries. Zipping through the air, Zarien watched as the airships still didn’t seem to notice him. Releasing the line just before impact, Zarien flew over the parapet of the building and onto the top. And then a wave of electricity flooded his senses and everything blanked out.
“Get up.” Zarien groggily shook his head as he found himself held up by two strong elves before the presence of an orc.
“Ugh,” Zarien said, and his eyes narrowed as he tried to regain focus. “What do you want?”
“I am Number 1,314,” the orc said. “I am in charge of security at the labor camp. Who are you and why did you come here?”
If only Number 994 had been with him. Zarien knew that a 994 would easily be able to best a 1,314 in the orcish hierarchy. “My name is Zarien,” Zarien finally said. “I’m a member of the Xavier Team.” The Emperor already knew that the Xavier Team existed, so it shouldn’t be too much of a help to know that they had been here.
The information had its intended effect and Zarien watched the fear flash through Number 1,314’s eyes. If he just was able to be free, Zarien was sure that he’d be able to overpower them. Course getting out of this slave camp would be a whole other problem to deal with.
“Why are you here?” Number 1,314 spat. “According to all reliable history, Emperor Jaigran was part of the Xavier Team, not whoever you think you are.”
“We’re here to overthrow your rule,” Zarien said casually. “And whether we’re the real Xavier Team or not, we nearly killed your Emperor last Yippah, so if your Emperor is afraid of us, you ought to be too.”
“You lie,” Number 1,314 spat. “I heard nothing of an assassination attempt on the Emperor.”
“Probably because he’s too embarrassed to admit it,” Zarien retorted. “Did you hear of the Emperor’s trip to the Citadel of Tzel-Maret? It almost ended in disaster for your favorite tyrant.”
“I had heard rumors…” Number 1,314 muttered before looking up. “Very well, elf. You’ve sealed your own fate then. We’ll send you in the next transport ship to the Mothership and will send you to Emperor Jaigran to deal with. Guards, take this elf to the prison cells and guard him well. I’ll alert the Emperor about this development.”
Zarien was only in the cells for a couple hours before the guards came again to get him.
“The Emperor wants you delivered to him as fast as we can,” the one guard spat. “And so it’s off to the Mothership for you.” Zarien glowered at them as they hauled him out of the room and led him toward the transport ship, all the while trying to figure out if he could escape and if not, what he was going to say to Jaigran in order to best preserve the cause of the Xavier Team. He supposed it was too much to hope that Flek and the others would be able to rescue him. By the time they realized that they had waited long enough for him to show up at their appointed place, he would be long gone. A pit began to form in Flek’s stomach.
He was led into a metal garage, a large transport ship waiting and ready for takeoff. “They’ve put enough guards to keep you secure,” one of the guards sneered. “And the goblins aren’t going to rescue you like they did your Sla’ad companion.” Zarien jolted. Since when had the Emperor connected that the Sla’ad they had captured which the goblins had freed was the same Sla’ad that was part of the Xavier Team? Or maybe it was just too obvious.
“We’ll see about that,” Zarien spat. And with that, the guards transferred him to a new set of guards that led him into the transport ship. He was strapped down in a seat in a dark room in the center of the ship, blindfolded and gagged—as if not having a blindfold or a gag would help him much—and then the door to the cell was shut. And Zarien heard the rumbles as the transport ship took off into the sky. There was a hissing noise and Zarien thought he smelled something as his senses gave way. He realized that it was knockout gas just as he finally lost consciousness.
Question of the Day: What should Zarien say to Jaigran to best preserve the cause of the Xavier Team?
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