He Rage briefly surges through Chago at the implication that they might not be telling the truth. Then again, as often as he liest on purpose can he really be mad about someone assuming he’s telling them whatever story might get the help he wants? Chago nods slowly. "I'll find out what I can quick and then you can tell me if you got any other ideas. This healing shit ain't something I'm good at. She does that. I can tie a bandage, but that's about it." He steps back and pulls some coins from his pocket while muttering what he knows about her long ago herd, not much given even her memories have holes in them, and those that took it, including the bits about the machine he knows. As he speaks, he scores the coins with the rough edges on his outfit to make one side of each one, then he casts the coins and studies the way they land, reading them like I Ching before slipping a small make up design compact from a well protected pocket that he hides his emergency mirror in to see if he can find the machine.
The mirror’s silvery surface goes immediately black, then slowly lightens and pans about like an old time movie opening. It focuses in and then draws back showing a machine made from rusted and twisted pieces.
The machine is on a shelf, a dusty dirty unused shelf...apparently either forgotten or all but. It's in a workshop of sorts full of other machinery bits and bobs. Piles of it everywhere. There's a feeling of distance to the seeing, not an easy around the corner jog, unfortunately, but he's got a good feel for the direction. Looking around further more of the bits stand out for what they are. Cuffs like he saw Cindy bound with, devices with hard, thorny edges that will never be used for nice things. Someone's special collection of torture instruments. How nice... One would think sooner or later these wack jobs would all be eaten.
From the front room comes a soft sound, a groan. Brenda's voice is gentle in response, turning to a yelp as someone gets clobbered. Do not startle the injured satyr.
Chago is not stupid. He's also not easy to surprise. The groan warns him that things are about to be interesting and he sets the compact down to mark the direction, in case he loses it in the rush that...
Yeah. That rush. The yelp brings him to check on Genny. "Babe. Take it easy. Healers." he announces as he approaches. "You're screwed up. Let them work on helping you." he explains as he closes in to assure her she's safe. "That fucknuts got something into you. I gotta go get something to clean the shit outta your blood. They'll take care of ya until I get back though." he promises her.
As quick as that, he's already thinking about other things though. How to find this machine. How to make sure the folks that are tied to the one that did this to her pay. How to get another bowl of stew before going. You know... important stuff.
Genny doesn't argue, mostly because she didn't come all the way around. Enough to lash out, not enough to really be completely coherent. She sags back again as Brenda pushes her down, Brenda's cheek showing a dark mark where she was struck. She takes the opportunity to run a strap from the bed over Genny's waist, hoping to keep the hip still.
Wyatt emerges from the back, carrying more than a bit of gear. Apparently, he's gonna try a bit of everything to make this work.
Chago glances at Wyatt and then Brenda before going back where he was working. "It's gonna be a bitch. I found one of the machines you need though. I'll go get it. Can one of you get Shova here? I need his help to pull this off fast enough. The ugly thing is a long way off, but in the Dream. His shortcuts will help." As he speaks, he finds something to start making a quick map on that includes a mark taken from the compact to show the right direction. Once that's ready, he heads for the kitchen to start gatering travel supplies and to grab one of those pies Wyatt mentioned if no one stops him.
Stop him? Nope. Honestly he's kinda being ignored by Wyatt and Brenda at the moment. Not out of rudeness, but the amount of blood being lost is worrying Wyatt right now much more than what a redcap eats as long as the house is still standing. Heaing the need, Brenda leaves and returns nearly fifteen minutes later with Shova, minus Cindy due to the fact Brandon found her and she's all distracted.
Once Shova arrives, the first thing Chago says is "We have to go back. Fast." Back? Back wasn't along that line, was it?
Shova blinks as Chago makes the announcement. "Back? Now? Umm...I thought we were going to have more than an hour down time. And back where back?" Maybe he's been hanging around Cindy too much, or he's just tired.
“We’ll talk as we go.” Chago isn't wasting a lot of time. He starts the other satyr moving by force of presence as much as anything. As they get moving, he explains what's happened to Genny and how she's 'fucking dying' because of it. Then he explains "I found the machine that'll help her, but I don't know exactly where it is." He gestures in the proper direction, more or less, as he says this. "It's pretty damn far from the feel of it, so I need your help making time. To know better where we're going, I need to go back to Shortnuts’s place and get my hands on his shit. Then I can get another bearing and find this piece of shit machine so we can get it and get it back here for her."
That made sense, right? It would have to Genny. Poor Shova.
Shova takes in the explanation but he looks like he's been run over by a cart. He's done almost as much will working as Chago and Genny too. He walks along, mostly cause otherwise Chago would MOVE him anyway.
"Okay...I get the idea that we need ta help her, but...you're talking about a -lot- of travel and we're both worn out. I don't want to fold us into a cliff or worse. I can get us back to the cave, but we have ta be reasonable 'bout how far how fast."
Chago snorts. "We can be fecking reasonable when we've got time for it." he growls. "I ain't gonna let her die. Can you hold a portal open? You can rest while I get everything I need from his hellhole, then you can open a hole for me to jump through and then back out when I've grabbed the machine. I'll risk you screwing up. I don't think you will. I got faith in you." he says. "She's got iron in her fecking blood." he says again, as if he hadn't made that point in explaining why they need to get moving now. "We wait, she dies. For good. We fail, we come back eventually. She won't if we don't try."
Finally, he taps the pack he's carrying. "I got some of Brenda's grub packed. You can eat while I'm hunting up what I need. It'll help." Yes, the redcap is offering his food. It must be important.
Shova stares at him for a minute, stunned. "She won't...how did she get iron..." buh buh buh...Shova's brain is having a hard time with this. Chaos that has become a normal thing for Genny and Chago are just not his reality. He begins walking, fast, across the little village, leading the way. "You...you and her are the strangest pair. I've never seen anything like it.”
Chago can't help an amused snort at that. "Shit. We ain't even done something weird yet." he says with a toss of his head. "You'll see." When he and the sidhe hook up at last. He'll really see then. "I need to know how far it is from here to his pit too. It'll be part of finding this machine. How much do you need to know to open a path? Just direction and distance?" He doesn’t seem worried about the fact he torched the place when they left. It’ll be fine now, right? He asks then. "It'll be more of a pain in the ass if you need more. I'll be able to tell you more where I need to be pretty soon after we get to that pit, but you can take a few to rest while I'm figuring it out."
The redcap rubs his hands over his face and then rolls his shoulders to try and shake some of the lingering wear after Brenda's food. Thank goodness he's not running on less than empty any more, even if he's still got a ways to go before he hits a full tank.
Shova blinks again, waving off the food. "Ummm...going back won't be too bad, not with just two of us. I know pretty much where that is, I just don't...well...don't like it. I can get us within a distance, but not right into the place or anything. That good enough?" The satry rubs his hands over his head, making his dark hair stand up on end between his horns.
"Closer the better." rumbles the redcap. "Way I figure it, I gotta find this mula's other place and then we got a hell of a fecking trip to get to it." He degenerates into a string of very profane Spanish for a bit before properly explaining "I just need something from the pit with the right feel and I'm gonna get it. When I got it, I'll get another line on the bastards storehouse." He taps a finger to his pocket with the map. "Then I fill out both lines and we know where the shit is that'll help her."
His tone changes then, harder suddenly and demanding an answer. "Now... when I give you direction and distance, can you fecking get us there if that's all you got to work with? If you can't, I gotta know now so I can figure how else the hell to get there." Yeah. He's getting frustrated. Even is cursing isn't as intricate as usual.
Shova blinks at the cursing and then nods slowly. "We're going to save her and stop this from happening to anyone again, yes?" It's a rhetorical question and he straightens his shoulders. For all that he's been a bit of a wishy-washy git there is apparently a backbone in there somewhere and he turns towards the pathway in front of them. "Then I can get us wherever the hell you want us. Just...make sure we come back, because I don't want your woman or mine coming to get us. They'll be pissed."
"Nah. We're not gonna save her. I'm kicking both our asses because I'm in the mood for goddamn goat stew. I just needed her to season a bit. Here's your sign." Chago replies. Rhetorical or not he got an answer. If he's really listening it might not be the total answer he'd have wanted either. Nothing about keeping it from happening again in there. 'Anyone else' is not very high on many a redcap's hit parade though so it may not be a surprise.
Then his lips curl into a grin and a lot of teeth show. "Hell... you damn sure got that right. And here I was starting to figure you for the oldest virgin satyr ever. Let’s go kick some ass. We get to the place, then you rest to be sure we make it. I can handle the rest."
"Virgin?" Shova snorts, his eyebrows arched nearly to his hairline. "Now that's just insulting." He turns his attention to the path in front of him and picks up a handful of earth, muttering to it. He wanders from one side of the trail to the other, stomping hard enough to leave distinct tracks and then throws the earth out in front of him. For a moment nothing seems to happen and then the glamour surges and shimmers, connecting the here to the there, with the there being about a quarter mile away from the pit, the trail on the mountain. "Hah...Got it. Stars and hory whiskers it’s nice not being bound. At least mostly…"
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Chago's grin widens and he nods his approval, ignoring the rest. That’s a story for another day, if then. He stalks forward then, adjusting his Gauntlets as he moves and then reaching a careful pat on the back for Shova. "Good job kid." he rumbles without considering that 'kid' might be an even bigger poke at a satyr than for most teenagers before continuing through the new portal as if he's got absolutely nothing to be afraid of in doing so. Once past the portal, he pauses to glance around briefly, then shucks his pack. "I got some of her pie in here. Have some and sit down. I'll go in and get what I need, then we'll find this fecking machine I want." He tells Shova without even glancing to be sure the satyr is following.
Shova better feel special too. Chago doesn't offer -his- food to just anyone. Not the good stuff anyway.
Oh yeah, he feels special. He's been ordered around and liberally cussed and is heading into dangerous places with someone who may still eat him. Special. He does, however, do what he's told and flops on the ground, stretching and working on what it will take to bunk further to a place they'll have a general idea to...no problem...really.
Even this far from the place there's a stench on the air. Now that the pit is open, the odors are escaping as the ruin ages.
Chago's nostrils flare and he nods his head at the stink. "Hell yeah." he mutters before his attention focuses closer, head turning slowly as if searching for something. Suddenly, his hand snaps out and he makes a grab at the air, muttering "Three." under his breath before opening his fingers and the other snapping quickly over the first. "Two." He says this time before the weird gesture is repeated a third time, swapping hands one more. "One." he murmurs and rolls his shoulders. "Go."
On go, his hand opens and a still living fly buzzes out, along with a release of glamour to activate haste, sending the redcap sprinting off in a near blur of enhanced speed. Quarter mile? No problem.
Especially without his pack on to slow him down. He's got his Gauntlets. What more could he need in hunting for a pair of those handcuffs in that pit? They left at least one pair behind, after all.
The stink gets deeper as he gets closer and he observes that dark things have already begun feeding on the stink and the death. Critters which have slunk in to make themselves at home, hiss at him through the doorway.
When the cantrip fades, Chago slows at the door to the burnt out pit and then takes a moment to just glare into the darkness. His fingers curl with the sharp one cracking pops that Gauntlets give, then he opens them again, letting the harsh sound continue as he takes a deep breath, stench or no.
"OUTTA MY WAY!" the redcap bellows before closing his fists again, the crunching and grinding noises echoing in the silence that follows a redcp's bellow when he's putting all the bullying he can behind it, then he stalks forward, ready to start ripping into anything that's not moving fast enough.
There's a lot of skittering and slithering in response and no few hisses and snarls. At the same time nothing seems to be willing to fight with the redcap over the bounty of the place and then pull back deep in the shadows to watch and resent him, leaving a pathway clear for him to enter. With Etienne removed the place is literally starting to decay, pieces of the wall breaking in, though his machines and creations still shine in their bloodstained glory.
Chago's lips curl into a cold grin, showing his teeth as he looks about, his single eye hunting for the gleam of a pair of those handcuffs or for some machine that matches something he saw in the other storage. It's like walking into the midst of the creatures doesn't bother him in the least. Out numbered. Likely overpowered if they ganged up, and he just hunts for what he wants. "I just want one thing, then you can fight over the rest. I don't give a shit. I get those fecking handcuffs and I leave." he tells the room as he searches. Who knows. Maybe they'll even help so he'll leave sooner.
Helping isn't exactly in their vocabulary. The walnut sized brains simply identify him as scarier than they are, so they stay back, resentful but not attacking.
It takes a bit of searching, as the table they were laid on got tipped over and burned at some point. There is an array of sizes and varieties of pain causing devices worked into them. Needle sharp razors, spikes and other gifts meant to create the most pain while still allowing the wearer to function just as much as the Knocker wanted them to.
Chago nods to himself and looks at the cuffs, studying the design as he starts out. He pauses then, his eye tracking past what he holds to a tall shelf with some interesting looking things that have been out of reach so far for all the critters. A small nod and he slams a fist into the supports of that shelf until it falls and then he walks out, leaving the pit to the things that want it.
Once outside, he tucks the cuffs away and head back toward Shova, jogging. Yeah, he wants to go faster, but the satyr needs time to rest still and the redcap wants to take some time to be sure of his plan. City on map. Check. Line of direction to the machine he wants. Check. Curent location known. Check. Way to get another line. Check. More of those vile handcuffs closer than the storehouse.
Well... crap. Gotta hope there isn't.
Noise roars up behind him as the scavengers pounce on the new loot and on each other. They may leave scary red cap alone, but they're not about to let other slithery things take the best loot. If someone were to return in a week it's likely the only sign of the pit would be a depression in the side of the mountain.
By the time Chago returns Shova is up and about again, his hair groomed back down to something reasonable and looing to be in a better mental place. He didn't eat all of the pie, he's not dumb, but enough to help his reserves. He has a long stick in hand and is drawing on the ground, something which looks like constellations and connection points.
Chago doesn't say a word to interrupt, he just walks over and scoops up the last of the pie and takes it behind something convenient to toss back with a quick spray of juices and crust crumbs. Then he comes back to store the pan away to return before pulling out his map and handcuffs.
He weighs the cuffs in his hand, lips curling in distaste as he braces to be really sick. "Two to one, he used iron in these too." He mutters before opening his mouth and tossing the cruel device into that gaping maw, drawing on some of his reserves to crunch and chew, whatever they're made of. Hopefully the rending of metal by redcap teeth won't distract Shova.
Once he swallows the mouthful, with the sort of effort given to taking medicine by a child, he focuses on the taste and where it is, then adds another line to his map, looking to triangulate on the distant storehouse. He brings it to show Shova, setting it where the satyr can see from the corner of his eye without looking away from the work, an arrow marking where the lines cross with the starting points marked 'home' and 'here' for the goat to know scale by the distance between.
Shova inclines his head faintly to note that he sees the map and he begins adding new markings to the star map before outlining it with ruins. It's slow work, but he's being careful. If he screws up, they may end up in entirely the wrong place without enough juice to get back. With each layer he also works glamour into the map until it almost shimmers. About the time he looks up is when the iron in Chago's stomach decides it doesn't want to be there any more redcap fortitude or not. The pie helps to keep the reaction from being entirely violent and protects his guts, throat and mouth, but the metal is going to come out one end or the other and it's choosing the mouth.
And maybe for most people it wouldn't be too bad, but Chago is a redcap and redcaps never do anything by half measures. He turns and runs a few steps away, making sure to be well clear of Shova's work before those deep racking gags are released and the sort of overdone spray usually saved for bad Monty Python skits or cheap lowbrow humor begins. It's a rather violent emptying of a stomach that normally can take anything.
After a bit, the redcap staggers from where he was hurling and holds his stomach with a gloved hand while the other reaches for some of the nearby plants to start ripping up and give him -anything- different to taste as he starts to chew the plants. It's not eating, it's mouthwash.
"My luck, this shit is poison ivy." he mutters around a mouthful.
Shova looks up, wiggling both eyebrows. "I would take this opportunity to be sarcastic and superior, but I suspect that would get me injured." He digs through his own packs coming up with a clay bottle that he hands over to Chago. "Try that. It's better for you than poison ivy."
Upon examination the stuff in the bottle is booze, not quite 100 proof but close with a malt after taste.
Try it he does, gulping down a healthy pull of the strong brew and sighing at the taste. "Yeah. You would." he agrees to the comment about getting hurt. "And I will kick your ass if you tell anyone about that." he adds with a gesture toward where his belly emptied itself so forcefully. "She don't need to know what I did for her, and if you tell someone, it'll spread until she hears." he admits for the reason why.
“Noted.” Shova moves back to his map, pacing the edges of it. "Just needs a few drops of blood to get her going."
Then he returns the booze and goes for his pack. "Yours or mine?" he asks as he's pulling it on. "I don't mind drawing some of either." He adds with a smirk. How comforting can it be to have a redcap offering to draw your blood?
Shova hesitates slightly and then gives a tail flick. "My ass is too adorable to kick, so my mouth will wisely say nothing about nothing." He takes the bottle back, tucking it away. Other things in the pack clink together and there's the feeling that the pack is a lot bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside.
The offer to 'help' gets a little frown, but Shova rises, moving closer to the map. "Some of both. You because you know the taste of what you're searching for and you share a bond with Genny. I share race with her and am controlling the direction. Put that all together with the map and that should put us within spitting distance."
Chago nods his approval of the answer. "Good thinking. I'd do the same for a scrying." he says before reaching out and pushing a fingertip down on the barb he indicated on his outfit and holding the bloody fingertip so he can drip blood where directed.
Then he focuses on the memory of the taste again, even though it turns his stomach, to have that in mind when the blood touches. "Let's do this."
Shova gives a little grin at the compliment and inclines his head before looking over the map. He approaches Chago and snags his own finger, blood welling quickly. A little wince goes with it, but he doesn't draw attention to his moment of girliness. Instead, he moves to the chart. "My blood to the corners and the path. Yours to the destination and the center points. Five drops each should be enough."
He suits words to action, squeezing his finger and letting one drop fall on each of the points.
Chago's eye roams the chart and he smirks at Shova. "Sure. Give the short jackass the center points. You just wanna see me fall on my face reachin' for 'em." he jokes as he moves to do the same finger squeezing thing. Start, midpoints and end. Drip. Dip. Drip. He's careful of the edges of the diagram too, very alert of every movement he makes. He's familiar with big bunks too and he knows how hard they can be as well as how easy to ruin with a single mistep.
As soon as the last drop falls, he lifts his finger to his mouth to lick off the tip and to hold it until it stops bleeding while he waits for the glamour to flow.
Shova smiles, but all of his attention is for the ritual now and the pebble in his fingers. He rolls it around as the drops of blood flow along the lines of the chart. One drop seems to go a long way when the glamor carries it and as the points meet he drops the pebble into the center. Immediately the earth begins to churn and drops into a vortex, a literal whirlpool of earth. Shova takes a deep breath, grabs his bag and jumps in, sucked down immediately.
Chago watches and nods. "Feckin' A." he mutters before stepping to the edge of the hole and taking his own breath to hold as he dives in after. The expression is easy to read though. It's just like Jayne's when he cocked the rifle and said 'let's be bad guys'.
Hopefully the next quote won't need to be 'helllllllo nurse'.