Open All Roads Lead to Hestio

[Tool]

It was too late, even as Manisk and the rest came around the corner, they saw the backs of the Deadwall unit. There was no turning back now, standing two abreast, Manisk took the front with Cutter shields raised and blades at the ready. Argo and Jax wasted no time; thankfully, they had already loaded their crossbows ahead of time. Yet some modifications had been made to the weapons Tool had crafted for them. Items set to ignite without a shroud, a lesson he learned after glassing a bridge during their expedition.

"Onwards Lads.. This might be our final march.." Manisk shuddered at the thought as he and Cutter shuffled forward like heavy infantry coming up from the rear. From over their shoulders came two heavy quarrels slicked with some poison they had picked up from wild snakes on the way to Hestio. The real toys had yet to be revealed; they could not risk using them too soon. They aimed at the backs of the archer and the wall of a man. Just beyond, they could make out the ragtag group. They all collectively could make out the red hands, the haggard posture of their beloved Captain. As one, they thumped their swords to the shields to draw the Deadwalls unit. Thankfully, there should be no interruptions thanks to the arena being locked down and guarded.

From behind them came another troop led by Curly and several others also armed with crossbows and shields. Curly carried his own bag with some more goodies prepped by Tool. Gesturing, two more quarrels were fired, one now at the snake lady and the soldier off watching the flanks. Curly's eyes scanned the floor, and his breath caught within his chest.

"Dammit! Don't go dying up here, men; you'll become food for whatever waits below these drains. Push!" Curly hissed as he advanced with shields raised to watch their backs with the newly joined troop. Where the fuck was Baker at this time? He was essential to their advance out of Hestio.. Or rather, their attempt to do so. "Baker.. Please.. Hurry.." Curly whispered as his pulse increased as the adrenaline took over. Their enemies were unlike any they had seen before, but that did not stop the unit from advancing. There was only one way, and that was forward; to victory or to death.

They did not expect the quarrels to do much, besides give their fleeing Captain and his companions more time and divert attention. Shields ready, blades drawn, they hummed a slow soldier's dirge for their enemies.

 

[Safa]

Fighter? She was not that, unless one considered her to be a fighter because she refused to let life crush her. When it came to others, Safa needed numbers. She would never be caught in a fight that was fair, she needed it as unfair as a fight could be, as long as it meant she would be victorious in some way.

If she was called a fighter, it meant her disguise had been too rushed and poorly placed upon her slender frame. It might have meant that life was going to try to smear her blood and guts over the floor. For all she knew, she could be staring at the reason why for it right now. His voice, once alarming, settled her into silent suspicion.

His offer to grab the loaf of bed was enough to get her to trust him just enough to follow after him. His posture behind tables matched hers when she snuck around, scurrying like a mouse between nobility's feet, doing her best not to get squashed. Quietly, she took the bed, tucking it under her arm. Inside his room, she stood, looking around, recognizing little.

"I need to get to the lower levels." Safa whispered loud enough for him to hear. If he was trying to go up then their brief partnership ended here. "To the cells, 3693. Not sure how low that is." She admitted. Would even he know, this place was like a fire ant hill, all chambers and secrets with doors that led to more maze than answers.

Leg bouncing anxiously, she almost could ignore the rumble beneath her feet, vibrations along the walls that had the sturdy floor twitching like a scared rabbit's nose. Brown eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, she looked at the man to see if he could proffer any answer. Instead of waiting, "What was that? What's going on?"

 

[Tool]

"I need to get to the lower levels." Safa whispered loud enough for him to hear. If he was trying to go up then their brief partnership ended here. "To the cells, 3693. Not sure how low that is." She admitted. Would even he know, this place was like a fire ant hill, all chambers and secrets with doors that led to more maze than answers.

Listening carefully, Tool finished arranging his desk space accordingly; inhaling, his eyes slowly narrowed at the sound of booted feet shuffling in through the kitchen. Gesturing to Safa to be still, he listened, a single long knife drawn at the ready. Then came the coded knock, which the Baker responded to by knocking on the desk. Swiftly, the door opened in came the last five of the group who snuck into Hestio.

"Baker, we need to go now. Deadwall, the anti-shroud unit, has likely found the Captain. We must get there immediately! Curly and the rest have already proceeded below!" Yuto spoke in a hushed voice as he came in, grabbing up the provisions sack and another heavy crossbow. Opening the chest by the foot of Tool's bed were two oddly made Heavy crossbows. Two more began putting them together as Tool wiped the desk clean, knocking the pieces into the trash.

Leg bouncing anxiously, she almost could ignore the rumble beneath her feet, vibrations along the walls that had the sturdy floor twitching like a scared rabbit's nose. Brown eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, she looked at the man to see if he could proffer any answer. Instead of waiting, "What was that? What's going on?"

The group recoiled in turn, looking from one another; no one bothered to question Safa's presence. Only one of the group took note of her and placed a crossbow in her hands. "Right, lass. Looks like you'll be coming with us. Do not stray, and I am sure we will get to wherever you need to be after we secure our Captain." Booth smiled his usual gap-toothed grin while adjusting his armor and shield in turn.

"Grab the wic-based items and the main detonators. We leave now; there is no other choice. We are headed to the depths; who knows where cell 3693 is?" Tool hissed with a shiver down his spine. Taking the dual shot heavy crossbows he had made, the Sapper gestured for them to follow, and off they went. They kept a fast pace but not so fast that Safa would fall out of the center of their ranks.

"This way, Baker, I patrolled on that level often." Booth chuckled as he spat a glob of brown liquid to the floor before chewing some of a leafy substance. The rotation shifted, and Booth now took the lead while Tool moved on Safa's left; the other 4 made up the rest of the teardrop formation. No one spoke; their eyes were vigilant shields, and swords were drawn while Tool and Safa both had crossbows in hand.

'Hestio breathes a life unknown, and it terrifies me. We must get Ignas free of this hell hole... Or by the Gods, I will offer up my life and die trying to give him freedom. The Salamanders must rise again. Hear me, oh ancestors, and guide my steps.' Tool prayed within his mind as the long hallways twisted and turned; Booth led them down several spiraling staircases that landed them around a cell numbered 3645. Their pace slowed swiftly as they checked around. With the halls mainly empty due to the breach, the group advanced smoothly.

Holding up a fist, Booth slowed the group to a stop and changed positions, with Tool standing beside Safa. Rummaging through his inner pocket, he pulled out a set of keys and handed them to Safa. "Here, lass, you will need these." Booth readjusted his grip on his sword and shield as the group began a brisk walk down the halls towards cell 3693.

 

[Safa]

Oh no. Oh no, ohnononononono.

She took the crossbow because to not take it might have meant they wouldn't take her along with, and she needed to get Hanna, more than ever she realized. There was something going on, at least with these men, they were after their Captain, but she could feel the tension in the stale air. Something invisible was moving all of them, an invisible chess player or puppeteer.

Safa nodded towards the man who now took the lead, looked towards the first man she had come across, now on her left. She kept pace with them easily, even if she had to take two steps for each one they took. Did she tell them that she wasn't good with crossbows? She would not be fast to aim, would hesitate every moment. But more importantly than all of that, she wanted to ask them a question.

What was a detonator?

At least she knew a key when she saw once, quickly grabbed the metal ring, keys jiggling against each other like a wind chime. If only this could be a hot summer day, and not the day that Safa had to pull Hanna out from whatever was happening in this forsaken place. Another rumble, the hallway feeling like the floor might give out.

"Thank you," Safa whispered, turning her head back to look at the man. He reminded her of everything Hanna wasn't, the look in his eyes could mirror her own. Still, she was grateful. Hanna would be free, this would be worth it because he was free, just another door and

Both the keys and crossbow clattered against the stone floor.

Right where Cell 3693 should be was a big gaping hole, as if something had taken a bite out of the stone, metal and wood.