Fable - Ask Odds and Ends

[Everleigh Ebersol]

The man known as the One-Eyed Devil of the Sea was really named Emil Hazelhurst. Hardly a terrifying name, it was no wonder that he preferred for everyone to call him One-Eyed Devil although in a few seedy brothels, he would let slip his first name. Tracking Emil hadn’t been too difficult because he was a wanted man. Vel Anir wanted him for the destruction of dock and a stolen ship from Vel Luin, Alliria wanted him for destruction of a couple of merchant ships, Oban wanted him for stealing priceless jewels from nobility, and it seemed plenty of others were intent on hunting this man down.

Didn’t help that there was a bounty on him from a private sector. But things seemed to have worked out in Proctor Ebersol and Initiate Varian’s favor. A band of mercenaries had given the two of them information one where Emil was planning on heading next. His boats needed lots of slaves to keep up with all the rowing, and every spring he would return to Cerak At-Thul to gather more. It seemed winter often decreased his numbers tremendously each and every year.

Regardless of Emil always returning to Cerak At-Thul, he was secretive. He only ever went to one slaver and that man was like a ghost. He had less of a trial than Emil did. That was when the mercenary group decided that the two of them should team up with them. Of course, Everleigh and Varian would be getting the worst job of the plan: the two of them were brought to Cerak At-Thul as slaves. Both were instructed that under no circumstances should they use magic or even show that they had any arcane might. The mercenaries had sold them to the slaver, the story a simple one that they had been from a merchant caravan.

They would wait in the cells with the other slaves. It was expected that Varian would get chosen by Emil, and when he was out of the cell then they could move. Inside the underground dungeon they would have to move fast: capturing Emil but also letting the mercenaries on the outside inside so they could rescue their group members and maybe collect some other bounties. It was going to be a mess when it all happened but…

“It’s kinda boring right now, isn’t it?” Everleigh said to Varian, glancing over at him. Her violet hair and eyes usually made her stand out, but in this dungeon surrounded by goblins and orcs and tieflings, she felt she looked too normal. “It’s almost been a week. I wonder how much longer we’ll have to keep waiting.” And she couldn’t help but wonder if the mercenaries were still outside waiting.

Varian Armata

 

[Varian Armata]

"I don't feel that way at all, ma'am. Time passes by when you keep busy." Everleigh would notice Varian keeping busy with the same routine since arriving at the holding cells. The initiate did not share the same sense of boredom that his superior felt, a tranquil aura about him despite his current position. Varian addressed Everleigh much the same, with the respect that a subordinate would give his officer.

"Four ninety-eight, four ninety-nine..." Varian was on his palms, standing upside down as he completed his daily push-ups. Despite the difficulty of his position and the amount he did, it seemed like little more than a warmup as the initiate leaped from his hands and onto his feet, wiping a sliver of sweat off his brow. "Five hundred."

"The food here isn't up to snuff with what they serve in the academy. It's hard to keep your energy, but it's just enough for me to stay battle ready. " Varian didn't seem to mind their current accommodations, tugging at the threadbare outfit of his disguise.

With his warmup completed, Varian took a stance away from Everleigh, facing his side's wall and performing a variety of strikes both with hands and feet. "What would your idea of fun be, if I may ask, ma'am?" He kept at his workout, hoping the small talk would somewhat ease their prison's dreadful atmosphere.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

The proctor made a face at being called ma’am. Sure, she was a proctor, but she wasn’t even twenty yet! But she let it slide, if only because Varian reminded her of Zael. She had watched him for the last couple of days be diligent in his routine and it was that sort of earnestness that made her appreciate him more than some of the other initiates she often got stuck with in training.

“If you’re hungry, you can have my portion. You should’ve said something earlier.” She said, hiding the fact that she felt a sort of shame in her gut for not realizing sooner. She should have figured out that with all of Varian’s activity he’d be hungry, and it’s not like they were being fed well here. Some days they got no food at all, or they would be given food that was so rotten it was dangerous. But rotten food wasn’t harmful to Everleigh, it was just getting over the taste and bad memories that came with eating it.

“Working out isn’t bad,” Everleigh said with a shrug, glancing down at the small space of dirty straw and cold rock between them. She watched his feet move for a second. He wasn’t anything like Zael in his footwork. “And it’s fun when you challenge yourself.” Not that she could ever do those handstand pushups Varian had mastered. “But I much prefer gambling. Makes you think a little more usually. Plus, life is boring if you aren’t ever taking any risks.” She paused, listening for footsteps or any shouts.

But inside this dungeon, it was the same as it had been since they arrived.

“I’ve been captured before and sold as a slave before in Cerak At’Thul.” With Henk, Tinker and Zael. But that had been a rather fun affair, especially when they had gotten to participate in the ruthless colosseum games before making their escape and heading back to Vel Anir. The purple initiate yawned. “Didn’t think I’d have to do it again. You’re not nervous at all?”

Varian Armata

 

[Varian Armata]

"Nonsense, please do try to keep your strength up." Varian shook his head at the offer, pausing momentarily to lean against the wall, blue eyes tilting to look up at the molded stone above them. He coughed at her response, the idea of gambling almost foreign to him given his background." I wouldn't call it fun. My abilities work well when I'm in shape. So keeping a regiment going even in conditions like this is essential."

After, Varian moved towards the bars of their holding cells, leaning there as he looked out, observing the guards move about outside, other slaves within the cells doing what they could to survive. It may not have been part of the mission, but he couldn't help but think of liberating this place. He had more than enough ability to do so.

"Sounds like a story I'd like to hear after all this is sorted out. If you're willing to share it." He shook his head at her question, smiling as he felt the cold metal of the bars between his fingers. "Not at all. You're my superior, capable of making it out of here just fine. And I'm not particularly eager to brag about my capabilities, but I haven't seen anything I should be worried about. The only thing I can think of is our mark might not come at all."
Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

She snorted, not dishearteningly so but because she couldn’t help it. He was just so earnest about it. She stood up, getting to her feet easily and even taking the time to wipe off the straw that stuck to the thin tunic she wore.

“Tell you what, Varian. I like to think of myself as one of the cool proctors, we get out of here with our mark and I’ll take you to this little rinky-dink bar I know of.” Mirth and mischief danced in her violet eyes, looking through the bars and standing beside Varian. She lowered her voice, if only because she still didn’t trust the prisoners around them. The guards weren’t too close, but regardless the proctor made sure to whisper.

“If he’s not dead, he’ll be here. I trust that information.” She had confirmed it with others in the same business, and the logic of it all made sense. He was a ruthless man, buying slaves up to the hundreds and then watching die off one by one as he worked them in his pirate fleet. “He’ll pick you.” Everleigh said, glancing over at Varian, her gaze meeting his bicep.

Must be nice to be that tall, she thought to herself before looking forward again.

“You’ll be moved to a different room, I’m sure, but I’ll be behind you. Just make sure you’re close enough to Emil to grab him and restrain him and I’ll knock everyone else out. Then we’ll have to let the merc group inside and take care of the rest. We’ll sneak out and let them take the fall for it.” She saw a big fat rat scuttle past, searching for crumbs from the rotten bread they were served the night before. A door opened and everyone inside went silent, even the guards as they straightened up and stood proud.

Varian Armata

 

[Varian Armata]

"Alright, I'll hold you to it. It's not often I get asked to grab drinks." He offered a shrug. Bars weren't something he would venture into, but it was rare that an invitation like this would fall into his lap. Varian often kept to himself, even within academy walls, keeping his head down and doing only what was asked.

"If you trust the information, I have no reason to doubt it." A nod, his gaze tilting down to match her gaze, his eyebrows raised. His posture straightened as the entrance opened. It was instinctive, but he stepped forward, ensuring his proctor stood behind his frame, now squared, facing the bars of their cell.

He watched as an entourage of guards made their way, no doubt preparing the goods for a significant person. Varian's jaw tightened; the many guards were of no consequence to him, but others could get caught in the ensuing melee. He had to time the confrontation perfectly. Swift and fast, without a hitch.

"Just in case this plan goes sideways and turns into an old-fashioned ballroom blitz, I'll make sure to weather any harm that comes your way." He gave Everleigh a thumbs up and nodded before facing the cell's entrance, awaiting the inevitable inspection.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

How cute. Her lips curled up into a easy-going smile as she was met with the sight of Varian’s back. He thought she needed protecting? She wasn’t insulted by the notion, years ago she might have, but now she took it in stride. The sentiment was friendly more than anything, and after last year and her awful “graduation” she had decided to encourage friendliness among initiates instead of discouraging it.

That was why she had devised Death Lotto, although she had some incendiary attempts in getting the initiates to fight amongst themselves. Sometimes she still craved a little chaos, but who could blame Everleigh Ebersol, the gambling queen of the Academy?

The guards walked through, each one looking gnarlier than the last. They were hardly the sort of guardsmen you’d see in Vel Anir. They were burly but had a soulless look in their eye. They weren’t the sort of men or women who restrained their slaves. Everleigh could see it in the way they walked, in how they looked over the men and women in the cages.

Any sort of disrespect that was directed to these “guards” and Everleigh was certain they would be beaten black and blue. She was quiet, leaning over to look past Varian’s frame so she could watch the guards filter in.

Behind them was a man, or at least half of one. His skin was an unnatural gray and his eyes were a pretty seafoam green that shown brightly despite the dim lighting. He had a thick, burly beard that was braided and reached down to the middle of his ribs. From what Everleigh could tell, he was bald, but she felt that wasn’t a choice or fashion statement. His broad shoulder form moved like a wold cat and even the third level dreadlord had to admit she was impressed that his thick, sturdy leather boots made little sound against the dirty stone.

“Not a bad crop this year,” Emil said to the slaver. Everleigh barely noticed him, for while Emil was like some grand great oak tree, Emil was much more like a single shoot of bamboo that would bend instead of break. The slaver was wearing spectacles and despite being next to one of the most dangerous pirates in Arethil, he was naturally calm.

It was evident that the slaver didn’t fear Emil.

“Go ahead and have a look,” the slaver said lightly and gestured for Emil to walk about. “Although I think you’ll like my most recent additions. A young man and woman. Both should be to your liking for your needs.” Everleigh suppressed the grin. This was going to be easy. “And those orcs from Mothal. I even got one of those special gray orcs from Dornoch. You know orcs are always the hardy sort.”

“Of course,” Emil murmured, taking his time as he began to step between the various cells, peering into each one for a minute or more. He said nothing, only moving his left hand for the slaver to take note of what he wanted. Everleigh saw him make a fist or hold up two fingers pressed together or kept his palm flat but raised vertically.

Varian Armata

 

[Varian Armata]

Varian watched intently as the prison grew quiet, at attention as a notable entity slinked into the underground stronghold. His gaze remained steeled, focused at the entrance to their cell, blue eyes shining with an unwavering tint. He watched as the battle-scarred brigands that he assumed to be part of Emil's crew scouted ahead like a pack of wolves sniffing out prey for their master.

He glanced back to Everleigh as the slaver spoke in the distance, clearly referring to the both of them. He would hope to be placed in a different room, as she mentioned; it would help avoid collateral damage that might occur. Varian exhaled a sharp breath as the sound of heavy footfalls neared.

Finally, two imposingly tall figures stood at the entrance of their cell, clad in black painted plate and chain. They were grizzled veterans, large and brutish, towering over even Varian. One of them brandished an axe, its head big enough to cleave a horse's, the other a morning star just as large.

"This the meat the slaver mentioned?" It was a deep voice; his gaze shifted from Varian to Everleigh, and a grin could be heard as he looked the proctor over. "Think the master might want to look at the bigger one. Those arms'll row a few thousand leagues before breaking."

With a rusted key, the cell door unlocked, the one wielding the morning star stepping in and behind Varian.

"Move." The guard's command was met with a rebellious silence.

"I said move, meat." His words were emphasized by the pommel of his weapon meeting Varian's back. To his surprise, the young initiate's body remained unperturbed by a push that would cause most to stumble onto their knees.

"I heard you the first time, friend." Varian's tone was as flat as his steps toward the outside of the cell. After a few moments, Everleigh was left alone, the cell locked back up as events fell into place according to her plan.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everything was going to plan, better than she could have hoped for. The men began pulling together the crew they wanted for the seafaring journey. Plenty were creatures of large stature like orcs or broad-shoulder humans. But they also pulled together anyone who looked hardy. It wasn’t just men but women as well.

And to Everleigh’s disappointment, it seemed that some of the women being chosen weren’t just going to be used for rowing. There was a difference in the woman being pulled forth from the cells. Some were tall and broad like a ox, well-muscled and strong like tigers. Others were pretty. That was all. Just pretty.

She kept a groan of displeasure in check as she realized that that was what Emil’s hand signals meant. One was for not wanted, another was for rowing, and then the third seemed to be for fun. Different groups of guards were walking around, collecting the people that they were told to pick up for the specific category they were in.

Minutes passed and Emil stood before her cell. She looked hard at the man’s face, committing it to memory. His eyes moved up and down her body. When his gaze was low, she briefly looked over to the side and could see Varian being moved up the stairs from the dungeon.

“Her too.” Everleigh looked unbothered, even if this threw a wrench in their plans. So be it. She had been expecting the worse anyways. It always made things far more interesting. Her cell was unlocked and two surly pirates took hold of her, placing shackles around her wrist and tying her up with the other women that seemed to be the men’s liking: elves, orcs, halfbloods— it didn’t seem to matter as long as their face was pretty.

Soon enough, her group was also led up above the dungeon, although unlike the working slaves, they were brought into a different room.

---

Varian would be given a number once he entered the room with the other men and women that would be expected to row the boats. Shackles would be secured around his wrists and he would be made to stand in line in the eight column.

“Number forty-eight,” A gruff man had told him, pinning a blue ribbon to his worn tunic, clearly not thinking that any danger could occur. All the men and women in this room were secured with iron shackles, so even the strongest of them would have a hard time breaking free. And even if they did, by the door and in each corner was a trained killer that looked more than anything else. If it weren’t for the good coin then they wouldn’t have been there standing around.

That wasn’t even including all the men out in the halls that would kill in a moment’s notice if anything suspicious happened.

After some time, Emil would walk into the room, conversing with a small group of his men in the front.

Varian Armata

 

[Varian Armata]

Varian caught a glance of Emil, his eyes narrowing as he committed the face to memory. He did not like the look of him, but for the sake of the operation, he will remember it for now.

He fell in line, marching with the others as they were taken away. The crowd of rowers had physiques that matched his and then some. Standing in line with them made Varian look average in stature; these were hardy warriors once or firm craftsmen who worked with fire and ore. Many still carried that defiant gaze; perhaps it would prove helpful when the time came to spring the trap.

These were sturdy. Varian stretched the shackles to their limit, exhaling after testing the extent of his binding's toughness. He wouldn't be able to break these in his current state. He took the ribbon without complaint, slinking into his spot among the others imprisoned.

"I don't suppose there's a severance package with this job?" Varian whispered to a slave on his left, who looked too afraid to respond to his jest. His eyes honed in on Emil, watching as he entered the room.

Now would have been a good time to snatch him, but there was uncertainty. He could not find or sense Everleigh's presence. He needed her to neutralize the guards cleanly; not only that but more importantly, he needed to make sure she wasn't in peril. They were partners in this operation, and he put it on himself to ensure that both could walk out of it cleanly.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“Severance package? You keep talking and they’ll sever your head.” Hissed a man behind Varian who was clearly half orc what with being more pretty in the face yet having the orcish physique. Not that Varian could turn around and inspect the looks of the man behind him as he quickly whispered, “keep facing forward or they’ll kill us both.”

The two of them were lucky that Emil continued to busy himself with talking to his trusted men in the front, and there was still enough movement with bringing slaves into the room that no one was taking any notice of them.

“My name is Gogo.” The half-orc whispered to Varian. “You don’t seem bothered. You haven’t looked bothered since you arrived.”

Varian Armata

 

[Varian Armata]

"They are more than welcome to try." Varian's back stood unwavering straight as his hands tightened into fists. He did not heed the other captive's words, head swiveling to detail out every minutia of the room. Every time he scanned the area and saw no sign of Everleigh, his worry grew slightly.

"Well, Gogo, call me Varian. If you would like to be free of these bindings, I would ask you to answer my question: I have a companion. A woman with purple hair and eyes. She wouldn't be fit for rowing but I have a hunch she would have been taken away. Where would they have taken her?"

Varian was a patient man, but his impatience clawed at the back of his mind, worrying him somewhat. Even if Everleigh was his superior and the lead of this operation, he prided himself in being able to protect those in his group, and he could not defend what he did not sense.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Gogo did want to be free of his bindings. He may have been strong for someone so young but it didn’t mean he could easily get out. The issue was that he had no idea where a woman would have been put. He frowned. It wasn’t hard to believe that this man was purchasing more than just muscle. Should he lie? Would this man even realize a lie? Could he play off such deception?

All these thoughts and more raced through the half-orc’s mind and he sighed.

“I saw the woman.” How could he not, it wasn’t often one saw purple hair. “I know they took her from the cell. I don’t know where they put her.” He had decided that being honest would be better. Maybe it was from Varian’s confidence. Before the two of them could say another word, all the rowers seemed to have lined up.

The men that were talking to Emil turned away, heading out of the room. Emil looked at the men who would row his ships like they were livestock.

“I’ll say this now. This is is your one and only chance. If any of you are thinking to escape, then say so now. I’ll kill you where you stand.” The guards in the corners brandished their various weapons, clearly hoping someone would be stupid enough to say as much. “If you do not know your place as a slave, then say so and save me the trouble of killing you later.”

Varian Armata

 

[Varian Armata]

"That is fine, so she was taken. That is all I needed to know." Varian shook his head; it was something he did not foresee. He assumed he would be the only one taken and his teammate would be free to roam once the slavers left. This wasn't good. That worry in his head became more and more tangible. He had to act. Now.

His lips shifted into a scowl as Emil talked, he hated how those words were thrown at them like they were nothing more than objects. Perhaps if he ripped his jaw off his words would sound different.

Practically speaking it definitely would. Varian shook the thought from his head, letting out a loud cough to grab the room's attention.

"I'm not thinking of escaping just yet but could you loosen these cuffs? They're hurting my wrists." Varian stepped out from his assigned spot to the center of the room, lifting his arms to display the loose restraints surrounding his thick forearms. "No need to rush, I'm sure there are others who're having the same issue with theirs."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

The room was silent like a cold winter night in the Spine. Every slaver always gave their speech. A tactic used to see who was weak and who would offer resistance. Despite Emil having all the confidence one needed to get where he was, he had had slaves that would show their recalcitrant attitude early on. To Emil, it was better to squash the strong willed ones early to incite fear into others.

He had yet to deal with a slave who seemed to get out of the bonds so early. How it happened didn’t matter, all that mattered was that he needed to be taught a lesson and fast.

“Wernies.” Emil said, his voice calm and unbothered. He didn’t need to say another word. One of the hired mercenaries standing in the corner was called to action. The slender elf in a dark cloak moved faster than the eye could follow, taking hold on Varian by move her hands and arms around his neck.

She meant to break his neck right then and there.

Varian Armata

 

[Varian Armata]

Varian's lips quirked into the barest of smirks. He hated to admit it, but deep down, situations like this thrilled him. It was a chance to showcase his powers and deliver swift justice to the wicked, much like those books he used to gorge his mind with when he was a child.

The dark elf mercenary would wrap his arms around his neck, but by then, his body shifted into metal; she would find the task equivalent to bending solid metal. The stone cracked under his added weight, and Varian moved to throw the mercenary on his back toward Emil and the guards surrounding him.

Varian stepped forward with a cold, menacing aura, those slits on his featureless head emanating bright blue lights vibrant with justice.

"Emil Hazelhurst," His voice was grated with a metallic tinge, cold and with little emotion except for contempt. "Dead or alive, you're coming with me."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Emil didn’t flinch. The hired guards were quick to protect him, taking hold of the female dark elf who cursed in a language belonging to her people only. They quickly righted her, and upon hearing Varian’s words, all the hired muscle in the room brandished their weapons at Varian. Subsequently, all the slaves made sure to make their way far away from Varian.

“Kill him.” Emil said, and the guards lunged towards Varian.

---

Everleigh could hear shouting erupting from the room next to the one she was in. She looked over to the wall and heard a heavy thump against it like someone had thrown a large sack of flour against it. Or maybe a body….

She sighed. She had been abiding her time, wanting to see if maybe Emil would come into the room she was in, but if he had any plans to do so, now they were completely ruined. Everleigh looked over the beautiful man next to her with hair softer and shinier than hers.

“Cover your nose.” She said. Everleigh always had a thing for blondes and there was no reason to let this angel of a man die choking on his own spit. Her eyes began to glow gold and she was able to use the sweat on her palms turn to acid, easily breaking down her metal shackles. It happened in seconds and taking a deep breath, Everleigh began to incorporate elemental magic into this next attack.

She exhaled a long, deep breath and purple mist quickly filled up the room. Like a house of cards, everyone began to slump and fall down into a deep slumber. To the guards in her own room, Everleigh changed the poison, making it a deadly toxin that would shut down their respiratory system.

She looked over at the blondie beside her, the man regarding her with fear instead of gratitude. Everleigh looked as smug as she possibly could, and gestured for him to run out of the room. He didn’t need to be told twice.

Varian Armata

 

[Varian Armata]

In the room beside Everleigh, it was less a brawl and more of an exercise in futility.

Varian watched as a guardsman brought his mace down onto his head. He met the blow with his own, fist striking at the head of his weapon, shattering the steel with the force of his impact and sending the guardsman flying in tow.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, I can scant control the force of my blows in this form, and I would rather not kill any of you if I can help it." He said as a Warhammer met his metal jaw, the blow causing his head to move only slightly. He moved step by step towards Emil, who now saw precisely what he was dealing with. Along with the metallic grit of his voice, Varian's words were more distant than before, no longer carrying the warmth they once held.

"You see Emil; you're not dealing with the average slave." Another guardsman fell to a singular strike, Varian denting the rusted plate with a fist-shaped. Every strike with a weapon or otherwise would glance against the initiate's full metal body until he finally stood in front of Emil.

Before he could finish, however, a purple smoke spread into the room, Varian looked around and located the source in the adjacent room.

Everleigh.

He watched as Emil and the rest of the room collapsed upon inhaling the smoke, grateful that he did not have to in his current state. Once Emil wilted onto the floor with no movement, Varian would hoist him onto his shoulder, walking out of the cell but not before breaking the shackles binding the other slaves.

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh easily strode into the room that Varian was in, opening the door without a single hindrance. They were either all asleep or knocked out thanks to Varian.

“Sorry for being late,” Everleigh said and gave a easygoing shrug of her shoulders. “I got a little held up. You okay?” She asked the initiate as she made her way over to Emil. He had fallen down face first and she moved him so he was on his back, placing two fingers against the major artery in his neck. He was still breathing, good.

But this was only the first part of the plan completed.

“You can still carry him, right?” Emil may not have been the muscular villain depicted in the rumors and stories told about him, but he was a lot bigger than Everleigh. Despite her physique showing that Everleigh had plenty of muscle, she could only be so strong considering her size.

Varian Armata

 

[Varian Armata]

"They had no means to injure me like this. I am unscathed. But, I was ready to save you on the slight chance your position was compromised." He offered a shrug, tone flat. That spry tone was flattened by the dense metallic coldness vibrating from his form's depths. Varian kept this up not to inhale any of the surrounding poison. He looked her over once, a habit to ensure there weren't any outstanding wounds or bruises on her, before turning away, kneeling in front of a guard, and throwing the key toward the slumped form of a slave. Once they've awoken, they would have the means to free themselves of their shackles.

As an answer to her question, Varian tossed Emil over his shoulder with little effort. Even in his normal state, the initiate would have found carrying someone like him trivial.

"Do you think we will meet any resistance on the way out? Not that I am afraid, but my tolerance for inconvenience is finite."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“For the sake of some excitement, I hope we do meet some resistance.” Everleigh said as a impish look took place on her face. She patted Varian on his very hard shoulder, careful not to break her own hand against him. She would ignore his comment about her needing to be saved. She was a third-level dreadlord, if she needed help with these guys then she would have to be demoted to fourth level.

Then again, it was a sweet thought, wasn’t it. Look at little… big?… Varian thinking he would need to save her! How adorable. Like a puppy.

“From what it our friends outside made it sound like,” Everleigh continued on quickly to what was important. She was confident in her skill but humble enough to play things smart. “There’s going to be a lot of security gates we’re going to have to get through before we can open that back door for them. Where they get water from outside should be less guarded, but we’re going to need a map.” She shrugged. “Unless you just want to bulldoze through everything we could do that but I don’t recommend that.”

Varian Armata