RP:Attack on the Sea Wall

From HollowWiki

Part of the Rynvale New Dawn Arc


Summary: The sea wall at the Harbor of Port Rynvale comes under attack with explosives, one third of the great defensive barrier falling into the sea. Two of the attackers escape with approximate identification, and one is captured along with an accomplice. The identity of the captured attacker (A Vailkrin councilwoman) generates ripples that might lead to political and possibly military action within the lands.

Characters: Trey, Mahri, Nyterath, Drael, Hameirak, Lirithen, Arien, Parsithius

LOCATION: Port Rynvale; The Harbor

As you pass by the guards at their posts at the massive, sturdy gates to the Harbor of Rynvale, your nose is immediately bombarded by all the scents of the Harbor, especially the scent of the sea, in all its salty magnificence. The hollering of sailors fills your ears, shouted orders drowning out the hustle and bustle of merchants all going about their business on the waterfront, attempting to lure someone into buying their precious wares. Out in the distance, you can see many ships, some in pristine condition, others lacking, and a few that are still in the stages of construction. Sailors run all about the decks of those ships; cleaning, dropping anchor, and generally following orders. Just beyond the ships, a massive stone wall rings the outer waters, with a double-wide portcullis that acts as a passage for incoming and outgoing boats. Anyone sailing must have a proper license to even enter the Harbor without raising an alarm from the Navy, as well as the rest of the city. You can barely make out Archer towers scattered about the fortified gray stone wall, their signal fires yet to be lit. As a few sailors stumble past you, obviously drunk, you happen to notice a square building beside you. It is connected to yet another building, twice the first’s size, via means of an upper level causeway; the Dockmaster and Officers’ building being the first, and the Navy’s barracks being the larger building. You begin to feel very safe in this stone-fortified Harbor, especially with such a heavy presence from the naval officers marching this way and that on errands.



Trey has made sure that the small boat they were using was out of sight of the wall. When the vampire went under, she did not want anyone to see. "You know what the plan is, right?" With cover of night, the barrels had been dropped in intervals the night before, so all Nyterath has to do is get to each one and do his thing.

Nyterath raises his shoulders in a shrug as he addresses the woman, "More or less," he replies in hushed tones, quite aware of how well voices carry over bodies of water, "something smearing the clay just about halfway down the wall and then up to the surface to ignite it." Appearing slightly nonplussed the cryomancer gives the two women a hard look, "I still don't understand how that junk is supposed to be explosive…"

Mahri isn't quite sure herself how it works, she just hopes it does and says so in a raspy sort of voice, lowered so as not to get the attention of patrols. Silvery eyes dart about and her disguised self, all rags and dirt smeared over her face with a battered fedora to hide the dark locks of hair, she would hopefully be hard to identify..hopefully. "That's the plan, pretty much. Let us know ~somehow~ when ye got it done."

Trey scowls, “Just do it, let the worry fall on us, okay? Now get in there.” She motions to the water, eager to enact their plans. “Meet us at the west end of the island when you’re done, perhaps? Around the outcrop that leads to that section of coves.” The woman also whispers in hushed tones, her voice gruffing up as she speaks. It isn’t hard for the pirate to disguise her voice as a man’s, since this is not the first time she’s done it.

Nyterath scowls at the abrasive tone in which the orders are give. Quickly reminding himself that he does owe Mahri this favor he nods his understanding to the woman. The cryomancer stands up in the boat slowly as to not rock it very much and steps out onto the surface of the water which which freezes solid beneath his well worn boots. Glancing back over his shoulder briefly, Nyterath winks at Mahri and immediately slips below the surf without so much as a splash. Commanding his power over the water he is able to push himself to the ocean's floor with relative ease and an unsurpassed quickness. A smirk on his face, the vampire begins making his way across the ocean floor towards the direction of the first barrel of explosive clay eager to be the cause of a bit of chaos. Finding the wall before the wooden container, Nyterath is forced to search for it longer than he would have liked. After a few frustrating minuted he finally happened across the explosives and begins the tedious work of slathering the mixture along the base of the harbor's great wall. A goodly amount of time passes before the empty barrel emerges from the water with a noisy splash and begins to float away with the current. Two hours or so passes before the vampire emerges from the water on the east side of the wall, a nearly empty barrel accompanies him to the surface. Hurriedly, the irritated vampire begins smearing the remains of the clay upon the wall above the surface as he stands atop the water just as he had earlier. Finally finished with his arduous task Nyterath stalks angrily towards the coves, walking on the waves as surely as he did upon the solid ground, leaving little flotillas of ice behind with each step.

Mahri clears her throat, pointedly looking away after the wink. No, she's not in the least charmed by the vampire. Hunkering down on her bench, shoulders hunched to give her usually petite form something of a bent old-manish look, she tugs the brim of her fedora further down to obscure her face, and part of her own vision so that she misses Nyterath's exit. Eyeing Trey, the lycan nods to the oars. No way in hell she's doing ~manual~ labor.

Drael || Where are the scouts? The ships of the Fleet patrolling the local waters? Ah, there they are! Men astride horses, galloping away from the spotted ship. Like a call to arms, their horns begin to blare loudly, triumphantly, roaring 'cross the waterfront to meet those up high 'pon the Great Wall as they trail behind. The Tempest of The Seas is the ship to spot this sea craft as it rounds a bend, white sails high--Rynvale's flag mounted like a shining beacon to the center mast. The ships own crew leans against the railing, staring at this completely unknown ship, with two shady figures easily discernable on deck. "Away from the broadside!" A gruff voice belts out, clearly belonging to the one in charge. Quickly, like little mice doing as bidden, they scurry back to their tasks topside. While this ship is not heavily armed at all, it is easily apparent that it is built for speed, and speed alone. Sleek in design, the square-rigged clipper begins to draw starboard, pulling a tight turn to semi-circle, and draw back. "Drop anchor!" The gruff man hollers out a few times, the crew running about in a mad frenzy. At any other city, the shady boat would have been approached, and then boarded--this is Rynvale, the city that is said never to be held. The city on high alert at a constant. The Captain kisses his periapt for good luck, and begins to shout more orders. A… creature…. Bounds off of the ship, seemingly jumping overboard, before he releases a roar of fury, wings spreading wide, body lengthening to reveal a Water Dragon. The beast of both sea and skies bounds ahead, snarling all the while, whilst alerting the men back at the Great Wall even more. By this time… the barrels drifting to surface can be seen now, one by one. Archers 'top the tower hear the blaring of the horns, and prepare for a full scale assault! Orders are shouted through the ranks, as High Elves line the Great Wall, leaning over it, anticipating the worst. A man. A single man can be seen after much a long wait, freezing the water as he himself surfaces. Smearing… something on the walls! "Draw taut, draw taut!" The Captain of the Archers screams! "The wind take your arrows!" At once, the entire east side of the Great Wall releases arrows down on Nyterath. A flurry of them, a storm of them, a surefire blackening of the skies 'bove his own head. Even as he finishes his task, they unleash hell on him, raining arrow after arrow, having been given the command. The Water Dragon draws up high enough, shouting an order down to the people within the harbor to fire over the Great Wall. Fire over the Great Wall? A last line of defense, created to scare an enemy. Rune Cannons. Drael Marcoth lifts a burly arm, screaming all the while, "Raise the Rune Cannons!" The loud crank can be heard, as they pivot skywards, three in all. "Load the Rune Cannons!" Bare feet thudding to the deck can be heard, as the sailors run rampant, pulling free the ships precious Rune Ammunition. The first is loaded, and then the second, and then the third, all within quick succession of each other. The forever-youth cannot help but take delight in this--now he could see the Rune Cannons in action! "Fire!" He wails, his body tensing visibly, as he braces for the concussion to the air. 'BOOM!' The very foundation of the Great Wall trembles with the force, as the first Rune Cannon releases its terrible blast of pure magic. A scorching ball of roiling flame sails up over the Great Wall, only to plummet sharp and land with a splash and crackling of hissing flame, igniting a bit of that cursed clay! A portion ten feet wide, and eight feet tall crumbles away from the wall, dropping into the sea. Grunting with irritation, Drael eyes the minimal damage. "Fire!" Drael exclaims again, falling forward to grasp the railing against the concussion that nearly strips the very air from his lungs. Another roiling ball of liquid flame, lighting up the sky like the sun, as it travels for the general direction of Trey's ship. "Fire!" Another one bursts forth, scorching all the while, to be sent reeling for the unknown ship. Back at The Tempest of The Seas… "Fire!" The gruff voice exclaims, just as he hears and very much feels the blast of the Rune Cannons. All five cannons on the starboard side are unleashed on this unidentified object. The three Ballista are cocked, and sure enough, released in succession, raining down on the opposite boat.

Trey rows a tiny two-man longboat towards the wall, since the lycan wouldn’t help at all. It seems as if two men are in there, dirty and hunched over. One of them, the one rowing, seems to have a fishing pole propped between his legs, and a large, tapered straw hat shading his bulbous nose and face. He is humming softly to himself. That’s when it all started. They didn’t even get the liquid fire into place. The first of the rune cannon blasts send their boat rocking and reeling. It even scorched some of the clay. Apparently the vampire had smeared the extra around. Oh well, there was nothing for it, now. The fisherman disguises wouldn’t do much now, and so the woman flings hers from her, revealing the ginger hair of the Captain Trey. “Mahri, plan B will you?” The ballistas, much better at aim than cannons, by far. One of them sinks into the tiny boat, water starting to fill up almost instantly.

Mahri opens her mouth to yell invectives at those atop the wall only to find herself sputtering when a wave washes over their boat, swamping the pair. With her fedora washed away and the boat sinking fast, the lycan takes a deep breath and swims towards the wall at which point she realizes what a bad idea that is. Below the surface of the water, a cloud of purple-red billows. An arrow finding a target..her thigh. Surfacing, the druid curses and narrows silvery eyes. Determined, she swims harder, and as fast as she can with three useful limbs. As soon as the lycan gets as close as the rolling waves from Cannon-shot will let her, Mahri treads water, shutting out the world and chaos around her to stare at the connected smears of reddish clay. Words wend through the salt laden air, once in a while interrupted by a swell but never entirely paused. Small beads of sweat mix with the salt-water, her skin turning palid as energy gathers, warming the water around her. Each word said draws heat and energy to her like a heat-sink. Finally, when eyes are fever-glassy, the release is given and a spear of flame punches forward, lighting the clay. As fast as one can blink, the fire spreads, hitting clay-mortars and exploding the length and breadth of the wall--for all intents and purposes seeking to destroy the monstrosity and bring those armaments tumbling into the turbulent sea. She, however, doesn't get away unscathed. Flying materials, stone, brick, mortar..she isn't a mason, fly around, a large chunk of it hitting the woman in the had, knocking her out cold. Luckily, she falls backwards rather than forward.

Hameirak flys across from the sea, the huge draconian flapping his giant wings. The dark blob apon the horizion seems to be coming at vast speed. He goes low down to the sea, the tips of his wings touching the water. He fires his crossbow at Draels feet, missing due to thspeed he was traveling. He flys over Mahri's unconcious body, scooping it up and placing her over his shoulder. The huge draconian set her down apon the wooden deck of the peir, settling her down with his crossbow. He took a defensive stance next to his body, drawing his two foot long claws, "You want her, come and get her."

Drael is not without his own defenses. This is Rynvale, city of the High Elves. Naturalists to Elemental Magics. The Archers all drop their bows to the stone beneath their feet. Instinctively, all hands lift up, attempting shield, and possibly render the flame attack null before it even has a chance to put them in dire straights. A blue aura bursts spontaneously to life, swelling all the while as the flame roars its way towards the Great Wall. 'Thrump!' The concussion knocks plenty of High Elves from the wall--those that the flame was directly below, in turn weakening the barrier to allow flames to lick the clay-like explosives for the briefest of moments. 'Boom!' Even more of the wall begins to crumble, as naval soldiers catch aflame, screaming and running about madly, only to fall into the water as more of the wall gives way. Shrapnel flies freely, cutting, slicing, and lodging itself in many a men. And then, silence. The remaining forces on the east side of the Great Wall rise to their feet, lifting up their own hands to reprise with deadly elemental magic. Water all around, wispy clouds over head. All at once, the men and women start chanting, twirling their hands about in a frenzy of desperation and heated anger. With a naval force this size of pure elementals, the following is an easy feat. Those few stray clouds draw together, whilst being added to all the while from quickly evaporating sea water. Soon enough, the clash of thunder and lightning sends the battle into further chaos, the seas ripping up alongside the waterfront just beyond the Great Wall, to swallow whole those that attempted to cause more damage than what was done. Drowning is a thing not too far off, for these two. Drael's eyes begin to study the wall, taking in all the damage it underwent. Not entirely to severe, yet enough to set them back a bit. "The Fates take meh!" He hollers over the catastrophe, "Fools. Get to rebuilding that!" He points to the gaping hole on the east side. A crevice, really, splitting the Great Wall in half, as if a giant of massive proportions cleaved it with an axe. Quickly, Drael sends out a group of schooners, to sail the waterfront, and search for the bodies of these people that attacked them. Should they be found, they would be brought back, alive, and put in jail.

Trey abandons ship, splashing into the water. Some sailors can’t swim, Trey is an expert. Mahri seems to be scooped up, but sixty thousand gold pieces worth of highly crafted explosives make for quite a mess. Unfortunately, the lick of flame that lit the portion of the clay spread. The clay is very flammable, even under water. There is nothing that can be done. There was no way to swim away from the explosion, so instead Trey swam down, being blown away from below the surface, blown away by a cushion of water between them and the flames. The debris and arrows still in full effect, when the captain resurfaces, she cannot do much except to let out a shrill whistle and inhale deeply, holding her breath. It takes but a second for her to be yanked under water and zoomed off from the falling debris and battle, off towards the coves to the west. To safety? Perhaps. The captain is lucky that she met the pocket fox with an affinity for water.

Drael laughs. Actually laughs, despite all this death, all this chaos, all this destruction--he laughs! Burly shoulders shake with mirth, as he steps down from his ship, taking up a gait quite easily described as languid, marching down the gangplank. "You're a fool." His hand lifts and every Naval Officer, and Naval soldier not up on the wall, draws their swords, daggers, bows, and spears--elementalists lifting their hands to do as commanded. "Drop your weapon, so we may arrest you. If you don't, you will die." A smirk dances at the corners of the forever-youth's lips, as he takes a moment to peer at all the men and women of Rynvale surrounding him, the two were -clearly- outnumbered, and would fall as assuredly as the sun will rise.

Mahri groans a bit, coughing up water at the same time that Trey is taken to safety. Probably one of her ships. Blinking her eyes, she stares up..and up..and up at the draconian standing over her. "Ham.." she croaks, "Get us out of here. Fly." Surely he could hear her, even with the sounds of some very pissed off Rynvalians. Damn it, she hated feeling so weak.

Hameirak looks around him, smiling, "You think your men will save you Drael?" He looks to the unconcious Mahri, smiling. He kneels apon next to her, placing a hand apon her. The scars apon his arms rip open, a black smoke pours out and envelops, "You must leave Mahri, its for the best." The smoke consumes her, teleporting her to a differant location. He rises back to his feet, the dark energy enveloping his arms, "I dont think you have big enougth chains for me Drael." He wasnt going to lie, teleporting another drained alot of his mana, not enough to push his body to kill all of the men that surrounded him. He chuckled, "We can still talk this out."

Drael 's hand drops, and all the mages prepared to release their magic do so at that very moment Hameirak moves to touch Mahri. A combination of well over three thousand men and women attacking and working together to subdue both with tight-knit spells of air and easy nullification of Hameriak's own magic--in essence, dispersing the teleportation spell. "You are a fool, Draconian." Drael scoffs, moving towards the pair, Mahri still not vanished. The announcement of Fate, the forever-youth's sword, is a hum to the air as he draws it free. Lifting the thing to point at the Draconian's face, he says, "Move and die," Arrows are drawn taut, and naval soldiers begin to enclose, moving to arrest both Lycan and Draconian.


Lirithen :: A distant caw would herald the approach of a truly monstrous creature from the Fog Forest to the north. Citizens scattered in fear of the cry as the looming shadow threw houses and shops into momentary darkness. A hand rested lightly upon the Cockatrice's neck, a gentle whistle stemming the disheartening calls as they neared the harbour, the source of the far-off ruckus. "Gods above..." muttered the tree-born as rider and mount circles the destruction, before the fifteen-foot, blindfolded golden monstrosity that was Sally took to flapping her great wings to keep her steady. Nimble feet carried the precariously perched elf into a standing position near the left wing, keen eyes peering over the edge to view the sight, and following the trend of the harbour's guards the ranger drew his bow, knocking a single arrow into place and training it directly for the draconian, aimed right between the eyes.

Mahri stirs enough at this point, only to find herself suppressed once again by the crush of magic. Goddess be damned to the worst depths of hell..Jolie was going to kill her. Defeat was not something she accepted easily, and with teeth clenched..she sends a silent command to Hameirak ~Stand down, Draconian. I don' feel like dyin' today~.

Hameirak lets his weapon fade to black assorbing it back into dark energy, not wanting such a powerful weapon to fall into Draels hands. He kneels down beside Mahri sending her back a message, ~Yes Mahri.~ He cants his head, wanting to fight, but due to his blood contract, could do nothing at all.

Drael 's odds, three thousand plus, against two, one out. The quick draw won out. "Finally." The Naval soldiers move in, and place the pair under arrest, and quickly proceed to move to the barracks only one hundred paces away, pair in custody--Drael at the lead, his sword still drawn, and aglow with its natural heat; heat radiating within the Vampire's features. "We'll see what Lady Arien will want to do with both of you. Personally, I would hang you on the spot. But, fear not," His voice on the verge of both skin-prickling and seducing--part of his Vampirism. He stops at the door, and allows the procession of guards to see to locking the pair in their cells, magic and metal bonds keeping them from attempting an escape. To the cells, where they would be under constant heavy watch.

Mahri growls and snaps ineffectually at the guards, jerking her arm out of one jailer's hand and muttes, "I c'n walk on m'own damnit." Her own body betrays her though, foot twisting just enough to cause her stumble. Regardless, she tugs the ragged shirt as straight as it would go and held her head up high. In the cell, she paces..and paces before finally settling in a corner, knees drawn up to wait.

Drael shakes his head, muttering under his breath, "The Fates take me for a fool! They attempted to blow up the wall." His eyes move to peer 'pon the gaping hole in the wall, "Somehow, one of theirs worked under water to accomplish placing explosives--we were taken by surprise." The forever-youth moans, rubbing his forehead with his free hand, "Too many casualties, this day."

Hameirak smiles as he allows the guards to place the massive cuffs apon him, "Bet you’ve had these made just for me hmm Drael?" As he gets hurded by twenty men, he ducks into the cell, squezing into its confines. Looking at the many guards gathering to watch other them, he smiles and shouts, "Going to need more than men and iron to hold me Dreal!"

Lirithen said to Drael, "Oh dear..."

Drael said to Lirithen, "The Draconian thinks a lot of himself, doesn't he? I'm sure your weak little arrows could kill him." The forever-youth laughs, despite this havoc, clearly making a joke, "No harm intended, brother."

Lirithen said to Drael, "A 'weak little arrow' could kill any man by it's lonesome, if used properly."

Drael smiles a bit--an amused smile which only comes to dance at one corner of his mouth, "You'll have to teach me the bow, someday."

Mahri mutters under her breath to Hameirak, "Shush, I don' t'ink t'ey can hear ye anyway. Blabberin' on t'e way t'ey are."

Parsithius awaits on the far end of the dock, his transport vessel just reaching there and bearing the flags of Larket royalty. Parsithius clarifies: he's still in the ship.

Lirithen lofted a pale brow, "It'll be damn expensive." Lirithen , meanwhile, would take a position where he may greet Arien upon her arrival, whistling jointly to himself.

Arien : The governor's arrival at the port was heralded by a parting of what bodies remained gathered upon the stone piers between the great gates and the waiting form of the admiral. Grim expression took in the smoke still rising from the section of wall that had taken the most damage, a full third of the great defensive barrier crumbled into the sea, and curt nods were dipped to officers in passing as she honed in on familiar pair. "Lirithen, Drael..you are to be praised that the damage is not worse-we can ill afford a weak link in our defenses with the Prek on the prowl. Show me to the captives?" The slow movement of flagship in peripheral vision draws her attention seaward. " Larket?.." A pale lip twitched. " It will sniff out a conflict if it brews a world away. See the queen's representative escorted ashore-though I have suspicion whom it might be."

Drael bows his departure from Lirithen, as he turns to make way for Parsithius; more precisely, his ship. A burly arm lifts, hand waving in the air to signal docking and such. Here, he waits, sheathing his sword home within it's scabbard.

Parsithius 's eyes narrow in clear and vivid memories of felling countless imperial soldiers, marking up to nearly a hundred thousand on his own, where the red of blood bathed the walls and streets. He had fought for one side during one point, and another at a later point, and he would've won the first... if it weren't for Mahri. Nonetheless, he doesn't know about the lycan being here, with the 'click' of armored greaves and presence of golden hair, immense halberd, and silver platemail, the king steps off the ship and onto the dock. In tow are two rows of three elite guardsmen each, outfitted in their own colors of platemail, from black with crimson trimmings to indigo with silver. "Aye, Commander Drael."

Lirithen gave a regal loft the head as the high-elf made her appearance, the whistle stemming instantly from his lips, though a brow did lift at the praise. "Oh, I'm afraid I missed it all," explained the ranger, turning on his heel, "'Twas all the Navy. In the barracks, Governor, right this way."


In the Naval Cell Block…

* Note: A small rp of Lirithen’s interrogation of Mahri took place, the druid refused communication.

Arien arrives quietly, and under escort, a number of stout elven guards at her side, the King consort of Larket in her wake. Eyes adjusting slowly to the shift from moonlit darkness to the lantern lit glow within, gemlike gaze wandered over those gathered, coming to rest upon the lycan thoughtfully. The pale face of the elf betrays little of her thoughts, and when she speaks, words are directed not at the druid, but at the general behind her. “ I will owe the queen an unquestionable debt for this, Parsithius..you may do with her as Larket sees fit, but I want her off my island. If the queen refuses her custody, then set her free. I have sent word to Vailkrin of my.. disappointment in this turn of events.” Now does the emerald gaze turn to settle upon the lycan, and comment is ventured. “ A mistake, wolf..getting caught. It ..complicates things, does it not? But I will not hold you here, and give those who call you kin excuse to wage war under pretense at rescue, while we are yet vulnerable. You may begin your prayers that the King does not kill you before opportunity to petition the queen to hold you for our sake is made.”

Mahri stares hard and long at the red-head. Cold silver flint. That was what had become of her eyes. They held little emotion, and even less warmth. "Arien, Vailkrin don' know anyt'in' about this. So, they won' be comin' t' rescue me. If ye don' mind, I won' be goin' anywhere wit' the Knight."

Hameirak said to Arien, "And what becomes of me?"

Arien: A flame brow arched slowly, the first glimmer of heated anger showing in emerald green pools. “Vailkrin, doesn’t know?..” her whisper was deathly quiet. “..that a sitting member of their ruling council..and more to the point, a member of the clan that so holds the Dark Lands in its grip, has perpetrated an act of war upon a sovereign state?” The elf turned on her heel to walk away from the female before turning to pin her with an icy stare. “ You will have to forgive my skepticism, councilwoman.. Until I see and hear evidence from the council themselves, that reparation and due reprimand is provided for such an unscurrilous act-if indeed you acted beyond their direction- I shall have no choice but to believe that this activity is endorsed by the same. It is only for the sake of my people, who are desperate to enjoy their hard earned peace, that Rynvale and its allies do not descend upon that dark city.” Gaze wandered to the silent, observing royal. “I am afraid my dear, that you are quite without choice on the matter. You -will- be transported off this island in his custody, and be thankful not to see the bottom of the ocean for it.” Cold gaze flickered towards the draconian. “How could he have nothing to do with it..when he so conveniently arrived to haste you to safety? I have heard the report..” The draconian is addressed directly. “ You need to choose your friends more wisely..” A thoughtful pause ensued. “ You were not witnessed to be a part of the assault directly..and I am not of the habit of imprisoning individuals for poor judgment.” A pale wrist flicked, directing Lirithen to act. “ You are free to go..”

Lirithen waved a hand, and one of the many burly individuals outside of Hameirak's cell produced a key with which to unlock the door. They all gripped their halberds readily, and arranged themselves in a crescent shape around the doorway, with a gap in the battle line for Hameirak to exit through. Evidently the draconian wasn't the most trusted of individuals. Lirithen shook his head at the display.


Hameirak snarled, not liking the decision. He crawled out from the cell, too continued to do much. He walked on his two hands tied together and his hind feet. He sat in the centre of the guards, "Don’t worry lads, I ate before I got captured. Any chance doing my binds?"

Lirithen :: The guards exchanged wary glances before the one who was unfortunate enough to be carrying the key did as was requested.

Hameirak snarled at the man as he came close, but let him come close, "I am only joking." He rubs his wrists. The draconian continued to prowl out of the barrack, stopping to growl at Lirithen, "You need some better interrogation techniques. I hardly enjoyed it." He then nods to Mahri before strolling out.

Lirithen said to Hameirak, "I'd of used torture but then I'd of been told off."

Hameirak smirks, obviously hitting a nerve. He would then stand as soon as he was out of the building taking flight into the sky.