#rescuemiriam

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August gasps and looks about. He has, no idea where he is. For a moment, he contemplates that Bachdion has whisked him away again. He doesn't recognize the bed, not exactly. It's large, clearly meant for room. And it must have been grand once, but now shows signs of age.

Far finer armor, despite a slight tarnishing, awaits him nearby. It is grand chain of pure mithril with a breast plate.

August goggles at it, then looks warily around the rest of the room.

This feels familiar, strangely right. His eyes fall to a banner, the truthbranch symbol hangs from the ceiling,.. but, the mark of the Margrave is struck out!

He sits up, rolls to his feet, takes an assessment of himself.

This is a higher noble's bedroom...and all signs of it indicate Liam and Fiona blending, and... God help him, this is his room.

THEIR room. Where is Coradel?

And... this is not Earth Runes. It's...some other home.

He glances at himself, if he's in the Dreaming, something is off. He..is not a shining glorious sidhe free of his mortal shell. He's ... August.

August shakes his head, clearing it. It doesn't -feel- like the Dreaming, like... like that perfection. He looks for the door.

Perfect it is not, the double doors show signs of wear and are in need of touch up, perhaps even repair. There the balcony as well.

The double doors; he opens then, ready for.... well, ready.

Into the hallway he enters and sees corpses. The corpses of trolls, boggans, a few satyrs, and a sluagh. They aren't alive, but it is as if they never wore mortal flesh, for their seeming remains even in their death.

"No...." A horrified whisper, and he starts to check for survivors.

Each and eeveryone wears the truthbranch mark, the sort of outfits servants wear to honor and show their lords

Dead. Dead. Dead. Their bodies are cooling, but they are dead. This.. this slaughter just happened.

The sluagh has painted a word in his own blood, just two letters.... 'up'

August does, indeed, look up.

A childling sluagh, a girl he thinks, hangs with fly fingers to the ceiling. Her tiny body shaking with fear, blood on her clothing. She looks familar but he cannot place her. It's one of the Truthbranch staff again.

"Come down." He whispers. "Come to me."

"is it true you're not margrave anymore, my lord?" the girl whispers

"It is." He answers after a moment.

"then..how can you protect us? the ones that are left?"

"What did this?"

"The dark nobles. Some of them that you tricked, they didn't like it"

He nods gravely.

The girl wipes stringing pale hair from her head "how..how can you protect us?" a whisper again

"Then....." he looks around, finds discarded weapons. "... getting armed is a first step."

She nods, "Yes Ma... yes sir" Weapons are litteed, some are easy to retrieve from the corpses. A troll sized short sword is as good as a long blade here, the satyr had a speer and the adult sluagh had a knife.

He arms himself and looks up again. "If you're comfortable, come on down. Where are we?"

"Your holding, my lord?" She says surprised but scuttles down "Where you and your wife rule, on the hinterlands. Near the dark river."

He nods, testing his memory.

It's all very much like a dream, but he knows it to be true. There was such a place. Details are fuzzy, but this feels so much like it should be that perhaps...but then, how is he sill so..mortal?

"i...where to now my lord? look for the others or slip out ourselves?' the girl swallows

He regards her gently. "Do you have somewhere you can go?"

"i don't know what to do.." She admits with terror

"Ok, then you stay with me." He offers her a knife.

She takes it and almost merges with his shadow. Somehow he knows there's a basement, and an upper tower, either extreme might be good for a last hold out, but anyone there would have to fight to the end.

He glances at the sluagh. "Basement?"

"if you say so my lord." She is ready to follow

He leads the way, letting instinct guide him.

It's as if he knows this place better when he doesn't think about it. He winds about one corner, moves quickly past a hallway, and approaches to where the entrance in the basement is... and he hears a voice.

His companion no doubt heard it first, but he stops to listen.

"Where is the Margraves?" A huge troll bearing Balor colors has pinned a sidhe by the throat, a knightly sidhe to be sure but the clout on his head has caked blood and the fellow seems delerious, but not so derious he can't mutter a attemt at defiance //"i'll tell you naught. kill me and be done"

August motions for the girl to hide, and then quietly grips the spear. He'll use it first, and then the sword. He picks two spots on the Ogre that seem less armored, more vulnerable, and then steps out to attack!

August steps out to attack, but is not shy in it. The troll turns as he hears him, "You? You're supposed to be in prison, Oathbreaker!" THat's when August strikes at the knee. One ,thing about working with Dougals, you can learn a lot of differences in armor types, and this sort is neglectful of the knee cap on trolls. Not properly built for the extension. THe troll howls as his blood flows and he hacks at August who weaves back, the blade sparking against the breast plate. The Sidhe the troll had been man handling gasps for air and searches for his own weapon or something like it.

August shifts his grip on the spear, and strikes again!

This time the troll swats his spear aside, "You're not as good as stories say, Margr..oh right, you're peasant scum now" The troll snorts.

The sidhe behind has found short sword, but , ;perhaps its the headwound, but he's going to strike at the thicker part of the back armor left to his own devices