You bring a hand up to your chin and rub it in classic pondering fashion for a few moments.
"On the one hand, yer concerns are totally valid and we'd have the upper hand playin' defense. On the other hand, I really, really wanna beat the shit outta these guys. I say we go ahead and attack. All in favor?"
Eileen, Steffon, and one of the Churchmen raise their hands along with yours.
"All opposed?"
Alexandria, Simon, and the remaining Churchman raise their hands.
"Ayes have it, then. You guys willin' ta help out?"
You get a series of nods.
"Excellent. Alexandria was right; let's ditch the traps. Simon, you good for ranged support?"
"Certainly. Would Ebrietas be willing to take me to a better vantage point?"
"So long as ye ask nicely. While ye're there, take this bell up ta her and see if she can track 'em. Eileen, one o' the Mensis pricks tried ta make a break for the plaza; coulda just been a panic reflex, but it could be worth checkin' out."
"Duly noted. Leave the chapel exactly two minutes after the recon squad does. We'll bring the smoke; yellow means we need assistance, red means return to the chapel immediately. No smoke means either things are going to plan or we're all dead."
"That last part was kind of implied by the previous sentence."
"Too much at stake for ambiguity." Eileen gets to her feet, followed soon after by Steffon and the rest of the gang. "We deploy in five. Try not to make too much noise; Doctor Iosefka's got enough to deal with already and I need Djura healthy before I chew him out for getting hurt like that in the first place."
"In his defense," you reply, "that uppercut was fuckin' awesome."
"Going by what Simon told me, that is both true and entirely beside the point."
Meeting adjourned and minutes sadly untaken, the group files out in orderly fashion. Simon and Eileen head upstairs and the rest go to various floors, presumably to round up the rest of the squad. You, meanwhile, pull a watch from the recesses of your sleeves and note the current time. Seven minutes 'til curtain call.
You spend the intervening time in the meeting room tidying up your clothes, practicing your dramatic gestures, and compiling a selection of sordid comments to bellow once you're outside. Eileen, returning to the ground floor, does not bother answering your request for something that rhymes with "thundering twatwaffle." People just don't appreciate the work that goes into being a proper meat tank.
Three minutes into your preparations, Simon comes down to report in.
"Ebrietas says she can get a vague impression of where the casters are through the bell. Something along the lines of being able to follow the bell's link to the point of origin and then locate the other links from there. She's also volunteered to help coordinate the fight with her telepathy."
"Kickarse. She's a helpful lass, isn't she?"
"She's certainly a valuable ally."
"Valuable friend. Now go up there and get yer piggy-back ride goin'."
You're in the midst of listing appropriately-bombastic Bible quotes when showtime arrives. With a roll of your shoulders, you stroll down to the front door and wind up for a righteous boot before stopping yourself at the last minute. That is a really big scalpel Iosefka's running along Djura's ulna. Instead, you gently ease the door open and tiptoe for a good way before, after a quick check behind you to ensure distance, you begin your performance.
All groups in position. Simon has spotted and...neutralized an enemy spotter. Father Anderson has left the Chapel.
"'Immediately I saw another horse appear, deathly pale, and its rider was called Death, and Hades followed at its heels. They were given authority over a quarter of the earth, to kill by the sword, by famine, by plague and through wild beasts.'
"They're busy at the moment, but I'm happy ta pick up the slack. Come and get some, ye heathen sons o' bitches!"
Gently-glowing appetizers pour in from around nearby corners; at this point, you're so used to their movements that you don't even have to watch your bayonets land. You storm forward as they hit the ground, taking the opportunity to stomp on their heads before they vanish.
"Come on, ye wrinkly old bints! Ye wanted me, now ye've got me. Get those saggy tits in gear and take a swing!"
Casters approximately two hundred yards north of the chapel. Assault team will intercept in six seconds.
You grin as the summoned creatures continue to harass you, their masters seemingly unaware of how royally fucked they are. For the sake of variety, you pick one of the lankier ones up by the ankle and bludgeon the others with him until his skeleton finally gives out. With that done, you look up and see Ebrietas' tiny outline hovering in the moonlight.
Casters in full retreat. Four of ten neutralized. Five.
You are both proud of your associates' capabilities and annoyed that they're not going to leave any for you.
Fighters have emerged from Yahar'gul and are engaging recon team. Two casters within are summoning reinforcements. Original casters down to three.
You frown and look over towards where Eileen said the hideout was, looking for any sign of smoke. None seems forthcoming, but you start running towards the action regardless.
Recon team has recombined. Two casualties, no serious injuries. One surviving caster has made it through the entrance.
Sucks for them; up against Eileen, Steffon, and Simon at the same time? The bastards might as well be salmon trying to swim upstream past a horde of unusually-pointy bears. Your only regret is that you aren't there to witness the hilariously one-sided slaughter.
Casters retreating deeper into Yahar'gul. No further summons forthcoming. I think we won.
Gal's a born RTO, even with that slip-up there at the end. Can't blame her for being excited, though.
Father Anderson, further orders?
[] Pursue into Yahar'gul
-[] Join the pursuit squad yourself
[] Regroup at the chapel
[] Write in...
