crystal. lil backdating to THE PAST.

[bouchonne]

FORM: Crystal.
SENDER: Byerly
RECIPIENT: Everyone IN THE PAST
NOTES: Backdated to the time travelers' time to make it clear that the turnaround order was official and not just yelled by a couple of funky weirdoes.

This is Ambassador Rutyer. The other division heads and I have conferred, and we are taking this warning seriously. The mission to Granitefell is being halted.

Those still in the Gallows: stand by for our return.

Comments

[biggame]

Please. I could take a dragon,

[ is a joke even without her knowing exactly how untrue it is. ]

[bouchonne]

[ Byerly isn't feeling quite so bad about abandoning Granitefell that he can't appreciate a bit of self-deprecating bravado. ]

In a drinking contest, perhaps. In matched battle, it might be trickier.

[biggame]

No, no, see—you only have to find the one weak spot, where something can penetrate? Usually the eyes or the soft palate, but sometimes there is a missing scale or something. Every dragon has one. It's like a rule.

You poke it there, and you're done.

[bouchonne]

Mm. And how many weak points do you have?

[luaithre]

Ambassador.

[ He must want something if he's using titles. ]

Of our number, Adjei is the fastest, and is capable of carrying another. We'd both be prepared to carry this message to Granitefell and afford those there a chance of fleeing. Hiding, if the terrain allows.

[bouchonne]

Yes.

[ He doesn't sound surprised by this. Instead: ]

Flint has given permission for you two to go. Give a warning, and return quickly. And as you return, assume that you are being followed, and do not attempt to rejoin the main force; take a different route.

Assume aerial surveillance, as they apparently are accompanied by a dragon.

[foolsmakeitcolder]

My kind makes a game of hunting each other, we've all played it since we were pups. I'll get us to ground. Lead 'em on a merry chase if we have to.

[bouchonne]

[ Despite Byerly having spent time in Jude's world, it still really sounds to him like Jude is talking about a weird sex thing. ]

Very good.

[biggame]

Two?

[bouchonne]

Remarkable. Covered in scales, are you?

→ private.

[luaithre]

Aye, [ has the tone of so I've heard. And maybe also relief he didn't have to argue with anyone just now.

And there's a short span of time that passes, before there's a follow up message. ]

Why are all of you certain of them, now?

[biggame]

I could be.

[ He's in trouble now. ]

The Scaled Ones went somewhere—remind me when we get back to Kirkwall, and I will buy you a drink [ sorry ] and we can talk about it.

[bouchonne]

Mm.

[ Need to know? - No; there's no sense in being secretive. And even if there were, Marcus is riding into vicious danger to help the people of that town; he's certainly earned honesty. ]

The Provost equipped them with a code-word, of sorts; that earned his belief. For my part, Artemaeus demonstrated to me that he is who he says he is, and Artemaeus has my trust. And all of this together was enough for the Commander and the Scoutmaster.

[luaithre]

[ A puzzled pause. There's been, after all, a lot of secretive behaviour that he hadn't attempted to detangle, but now that it's been decided and he is on his way— ]

And how did they come by it at all, if the Provost knew of it already?

[bouchonne]

[ Not being an Indiana Jones type, this is news to him. ]

Scaled Ones? - [ Then, checking his curiosity - ] No; not the time.

[bouchonne]

Ah -

[ This might be a piece Marcus is missing. ]

They have traveled through time. They're from some weeks in the future.

[biggame]

Right. On account of the mortal peril. But as soon as we're back.

[bouchonne]

I'll look forward to it.

[luaithre]

[ A longer pause. Then; ]

Alright.

[ Why not, at this point. ]

[bouchonne]

Yes,

[ is a little helpless. An acknowledgment of the absurdity of it. By may not have much in common with Marcus this is a lie he has an enormous amount in common with Marcus, but they certainly share a spirit of what the fuck at this moment. ]

So you might consult with one of them for particular details of - what you might anticipate.

[luaithre]

Alright,

[ repeated, which is maybe the only tell from him of being a little less than centred. Back to form a moment later; ]

I'll report on anything out of turn, but not on our exact movements.

[ Just in case. ]

[bouchonne]

[ By nods to himself. ]

All speed to you.