CMP

Miderun repeats.

Rogue's totally got a Wolfpack emblem on his shirt.

Atramor gulps down a Mead and inhales the last of his Smelling Salts. . "You heard the lady. Everyone drink up whatever ya need.

"Agreed. Only makes sense. If ya' can get outside the city, your king's waitin' for ya," Atramor nodded at the priestess, or...'aunt'. She didn't seem quite as strict as the gypsies of the coven of Mama Yaya. But then this version of the goddess was a bit less...intense. Atramor sighed and rolled his eyes at the metasimian. "Alright. Enlighten us, Byblos. Is it normal for demons to have to feed on this kinda stuff? Didn't know that; so Solomon would've had to have been takin' care of this kid for weeks?" "I think I speak for all of us when I say we shouldn't be wastin' any time. Let's go stir up a demonic shitstorm."

Miderun swaps out Orokuul - growing ever more lethal - for her Oculoid Club and swings at Cheshire Cat 1 from the front row.

Welcome back CC.

Atramor scratched his head. "Sure as hell explains why ya' want his head." "We don't all need to go to the temple. Can't take that long to drop off one kid. Besides, what if they come to check on us and find the door hangin' wide open? Catnip's left holdin' the bag and she ain't even armed at the moment."

Miderun turns her blade on Viper 1 from the front row, at this point almost afraid to even touch the blade of her sword.

Maybe it's not a mispelling, and the film focuses on Indy's long-lost twin sister, Indiana Joan.

"And just why the hell can't you use it?" "Well, no freakin' shit Catnip, why do ya' think we're even here? I doubt he's even gonna get anywhere near Brahne's amount of power unless he's got another thousand years to live." Atramor couldn't help but snort in amusement as Pretzel poked around the barrel, but it quickly turned into a grimace, with some serious eye-rolling to match. "You told us this once before, Catnip. Then you spent half a day chasing your ex around a desert before he escaped, into our city, and killed someone on his way out. While we were busy putting down two archdemons. Now look. I've seen ya fight, and there ain't many better suited to killin' demons, but we nailed nearly twenty on the way in here, and there's six of us. I'm sure ya've got a score to settle with this Solomon, but that sure as hell ain't gonna happen when he could have dozens more minions and an archdemon sittin' next to him in his castle. You want to go out in a blaze of glory, go ahead, but be realistic about your chances of even gettin' close to the maniac who did all of this. Spirit of vengeance don't help you if you're dead." "There's literally demons rainin' from the sky, I'd be surprised if there weren't any close by...how close, Byblos? Waitin' for us 'round the corner, or..." Atramor unstoppered his bottle of Demon Repellent, but didn't spray it, checking to see if there was any kind of reaction from anyone. "...in this room with us?"

"Aye...but as I said." Atramor nodded slightly at Namyrra. "She's a bit of a loose cannon...bowgun, whatever."

Ding ding ding, we have a winner.

Atramor released the other end of the Soul Chain Link and borrows and equips Althior's Medal of Glory, rubbing some of the dirt off it. It's like it was dug up in a farm. "It's both Namyrra and I, actually. She was in Azzurat when we went to go kill Ahriman and Naamah, the archdemons shackin' up in the old kingdom there. Catnip's a demon hunter. She worked with us, for a while, then decided to stop takin' orders." The rogue thief turns towards Catnip, arms crossed. "Last I saw, you were trackin' the man with the hat, the man we're chasin' now, all the way form Azzurat to Eubric to...here, I guess."

Miderun turns her blade on Viper 2 from the front row.

"Small world, Catnip. How's the solo career shakin' out for ya?" Atramor attempted to loose some of the stones in the floor with his Magic Shovel.

You listed Winter Shield twice. Atramor tucks yet another weapon into the depths of his coat. He then then eats a steak's worth of Raw Meat in blissful ignorance about the serious health risks nobody seems concerned about. "Althior, I notice ya've got one of those medals I keep seein' 'round everyone's neck at the Hall. If ya ain't usin' it I'm sure I could get some out of it, 'least 'til we're done here." He chuckled at Byblos struggling to keep the squirming baby under control. Twitzle the canary fluttered out of Atramor's hat to tweet and fly around the tiny infant. "What's the problem mate? Ain't ya ever hold one of those before?" "No way. That kid is safer in our hands as we fight an archdemon than it is with those hapless villagers armed with nothin' but faith." "I say we hunt down the marquis. Althior, you've got trackin' skills now. Use 'em."

"Maybe." Tra-Serral blinks and frowns very slightly. "Thank you." "Fine." "Will do," Olmstyr nodded and moved to stand by Thalion. "Oh for- how the hell is it I'm the one getting stuck with guard duty?" complained Daske. "I don't see any of you carrying around freaking dragons!" "That's how we know you can handle yourself. Remember that none of what we're doing matters if Karstaal dies," replied the vindicator sternly. "So keep him safe. Can you do that?" "Right. Fine." Daske adjusted her visor while Aazy poked his head up into the air. <"I...do you any of you, uhm, hear...that? There's a...buzzing."> "How in the world do you hear over this noise? Well, whatever...whatever it is it can hardly be any louder than the chant. So, Team Old Guy is going up on the wall, Team Silent Knight is headed around to the construction area, and Team Gonna-Kill-Eachother is going thataway through the palace. And we're looking for an...assassin that can teleport, it looks like." "Right." "Uh-huh. Well at least with the chant going on we'll have more than enough strength to deal with 'em. Good luck everyone. Probably don't die yet, there's still more assassins to deal with." "I anticipate it," remarked Tra-Serral dryly before heading out. With that, the party split into four groups to try and pin down Karstaal's assassin. PMs incoming.

I'm not sure where you're getting my damage calculations. My WP should be 44 after that last round, Flipz missed increasing it the last two. (44x2 + 42 = 130 x 2 = 260 damage) x 2 = 520 damage. Luckily I don't think you reduced his health anyway. Also, since dual strike is two hits, I think my WP should be increasing by two, not one. Atramor slides the Mythril Claws against one another, testing their increased, lethal sharpness, and lunging at Sabnock with both claws, twice, from the front row. "Amen to that, mate."

It is also the first quest with a Rogue Thief and not one demon is carrying any spending money.

Update will come tomorrow. Late night 4th of July celebration.

Darth Maul got sliced in half and fell down some kind of reactor shaft. Anakin had both legs and an arm amputated and was left to burn alive in lava. Luke was thrown out a window, got his hand sliced off, and was sucked out of a flying city's ventilation system.

Atramor nods at the winged, dual-wielding ball of destruction that is Hybros, and moves in to slash Marax with both claws from the front row, and then the same to Sabnock.

Miderun repeats her swing.

To be fair he probably wouldn't run out anyway.

Prophet gives him 15, clothes give him 24, and he's quite high level.