775/Lockdown In The Halls of The Elvenking

Lockdown In The Halls of The Elvenking
Date of Scene:	09 October 2014
Location:	Middle Earth
Synopsis:	Things continue to go worse for our brave explorers in Mirkwood as several end up in the dungeons of Thranduil and things get worse.
Cast of Characters:	Tomoe, 273, 400, 585, 592

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Thranduil (592) has posed:
     The Elves try to usher the Unionites that have invaded their lands toward the large bluish gates that lead into the kingdom, the rushing water of the river flowing beneath the pathway. The guards hold the doors open as Thranduil leads the way into the kingdom, heading off on a different path as the 'prisoners' are taken down to where the cells are carved into the rock. The Elvenking gave no audible instructions, just went off to do his thing.

     The scouts and guards were swift to close the doors of the cells, stuffing in the prisoners they could easily stuff inside, locking them tight with a set of keys which one ginger haired Elf guard affixes to his belt and walks down the stairs to have a bit of wine with his fellows. The doors to the cells are solid, the locks difficult. Those that have been brought down here won't be mistreated, they will be fed and watered, provided with all the necessities except freedom for the moment.

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    Well, this is another fine mess to be in due to poor communication, to Nasrin's great amusement. She slides into her cage like a scolded cat, giving glowers and glares all the while as she slinks to the back of her cell.

    She keeps her eyes on the ginger-haired elf, though, the one who jingles with the sound of freedom as he walks. She studies him, noting his movements, sizing him up, and as he retreats to go enjoy some wine, she slides up to the front of her cell like a shadow, and the young Assassin takes a good look at that lock.

Tomoe has posed:
Tomoe is being hauled along by the others and they are being disarmed she make no sound on this but isn't hapy when they take her sword thankfully other items are safely away in her inventroy for now. She's going to keep plying for nice she doesn't do much more. This was another fine mess she'd got into she doesn't fight it she does however seem to be watching the elf trying to figure out the pattern to his movments.

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     One of the other Elves walks up the stairs to pass by the cells. This one has blonde hair and blue eyes like the King. The others all seem to have hair and eyes in the darker range, making those two stand out. The Elf with the keys disappears into the lower levels of the kingdom. From the cells, it is easy to see out into the rest of the kingdom where the Silvan Elves move around, speaking amongst themselves in their own language (usually about something trivial) and muttering about the strange prisoners.

     The Lock is complicated even though it seems as though it is locked with a simple ancient looking key. The lock itself is off to the side of the door which would make it difficult to see but a pair of arms could easily fit through the openings in the door to reach it.

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    "Weird locks..." Nasrin comments dryly, and leans against the doors, "You know, friend, if /I/ had hair the color of dog's blood, I would have taken care to cut it off." she calls down to her fellow prisoners. "Do you think it came from the mother or the father? Perhaps it's simply fashionable to dye it? -- what say you, Bloodhair? Did you get it from your father or your mother?"

Tomoe has posed:
Tomoe looks over to the cell where Nasrin is for a moment, Tomoe could get out of here but it would leave the others in the lurch and also make poltical issues then again her report's going to include things like just how agressivly xenophobic the elves are.

"So we're in quite a mess ain't we?"

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    "Play along." Nasrin whispers, "If their king's any indication, they're pretty prideful people." Narin comments... but it doesn't hurt to have a backup plan. Nasrin takes a look at the bars, and grasps a hold of them, trying to rattle the cage. "HEY! UGLY! I'm asking you a question -- Did you get that hair from your /mother/ or from a /dog/?"

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     The Elf frowns and looks at Nasrin. "My hair is the same color as both my parents and their parents before them. What do I care about the opinion of a prisoner? You will all speak to the King soon enough. Perhaps you should rest your voice and be silent." To Tomoe he nods. "You are in quite a bit of trouble, but do not worry, the Elvenking will be fair."

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    "Are you sure? 'Cause I've owned a few dogs in my time, and you sure smell like one."

    Nasrin makes sniffing motions, and laughs, still holding on to the bars, close, within grabbing distance.

Tomoe has posed:
Tomoe looks to the guard for a moment.

"I will have to trust in your word on that."

She pauses for a moment and she smirks 0over at Nasrijn for a moment. She with holds any words for the moment, knowing too much snark may lead ot other issues. She's also made sure she's got FRAPS running off hert feed, yes, that might be useful later.

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     "If you could smell yourself as I can, you would not be making such comments." The Elf responds. "I can smell none so much as the Troll, however. Do you truly wish to make yourself an enemy of the Silvan Kingdom? I would not be so hostile in your situation. You have invaded our land. It cannot come as such a surprise that you would be brought for questioning."

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    "Well, maybe I just need to get a better whiff." Nasrin offers, and she feels the pull in her stomach as her superspeed activates. She hops up, her arm and shoulder sliding through the bars to make a nab at the elf guard's skirt and pull him about, her other hand reaching for that long, luxurious hair to try and pull him back hard against the bars, pushing with her legs for extra leverage, and her hand reaches out for the keys, a slim blade sliding out of her gauntlet to cut at the leather of his belt, her eyes focused on his movements! -- and how quick she could hide those keys under her tunic.

Tomoe has posed:
Tomoe shrugs "Your picking the fight with us for one, if you want to get techinal about it."

She turns away to go look out the window and get a better feel for this place before returning talking to the guard.

"Your world has changed and no amount of keeping your selves isolated is going to change that. If anything it's gong to draw trouble, the likes who assume you have things worth taking."

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     The Elven guard should have known better but he is taken by surprise and finds himself being pulled upon, banging his head against the door. He lifts a hand to shield his forehead from further assault and twists to grab at his key ring. "Stop! You cannot escape this place. The gates are closed. To run will only have you placed in danger." He turns to try and see where she went if she gets the door open. "You are making a very big mistake."

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    Just a hair too quick. She gets the belt, and takes that back in with her, falling to her back laughing like a madwoman, bit sof her own cinnamon-red hair showing beneath her hood.

    "Ah, it's been a long time since someone was faster on the pickup than me." she laughs. "Sure, I'll play patient on your Elfking for now, Red, but..." she folds up the belt into a loop, and waggles it at him from her place on the floor. "I get bored very easily!"

    And from her place on the floor, Nasrin calls back to Tomoe: "Ah, let them hold us and feel bigger than they are. I have brothers; they will be missing their little sister!" she laughs.

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     The Elf looks a bit baffled, rubbing his bruised forehead. "You are obviously strangers to these lands. You may even be strangers to Middle Earth, though I do not understand how that would be possible. The stars have changed, a dragon has been threatening the lands to the Northeast which places our lands in danger. I am certain you will be returned to your family soon." He turns away and starts walking toward the steps. "You should feel fortunate you were not all simply killed rather than held for questioning."

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    "So you noted the sky's changes but can't fathom a world beyond your Middle Earth? Don't think so small! Come now, friend! Tell us your name! I apologize for the jape about the hair -- truly, I do. Words being wind and all."

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     "Yes, the stars are different. Why would there be other worlds? There is no longer a moon in the sky. It is so dark now in the forest at night." He seems truly concerned about this. "The spiders come from Dol Guldur in the shadows, and we cannot use the moonlight to find them. We will be overrun."

Tomoe has posed:
Tomoe watch as her firen makes the move and she tilts her head a little bit she smirks.

"We know how this is possible we attempeted to tell the ones who brought us in. This region was nothing but unhiabted plains a few weeks ago."

She notes and leands against the cell for a moment.

"There are other means to deal with the spiders and ... I think we could help deal with them..."

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    "I don't know, do you think they deserve help? Perhaps we should let nature take its course. I'm sure the Spiders can handle themselves." NAsrin jeers from her cell, rapping the leather of the poor elf's belt against the bars.

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     The young guard narrows his eyes. "Stay here and rot, then, outsider." He says angrily and leaves, his soft boots making no sound as he walks away, going down the stairs for that glass of wine, taking the keys with him.

Bigby Wolf (585) has posed:
MEANWHILE...

Another intruder has entered the boundaries of the Elvenking's land. An enormous black wolf prowls silently beneath the dark eaves of Mirkwood, having found and leapt across a narrow point in the black river only a little while ago. He's just thinking this place feels like home -- long ago home -- all dark and gloomy, game animals fleeing from him in terror as he makes no particular effort to conceal his passage. He's not hungry enough to give chase.

He does pause, however, to sniff the wind as an eddy swirls and brings him a whiff of several strange scents. Humans, he categorizes and dismisses the least of them. More powerful is the smell of something similar but... older. A faint scent of magic. The Wolf's nose wrinkles. Not quite faeries. Elves, maybe. More powerful than either of these smells, though, is the acrid, bitter stench of Spider. Very large spiders, it would have to be, to have such a strong presence here. The great beast swivels his head, sampling the air from alternate angles, and his ears prick forward with interest as he spies the sticky, ropey trailing end of a tattered web strung across two trees.

And he smiles, great fangs glistening as his lips peel back in what would look to anyone else like a horrific snarl. The giant wolf shifts into motion again, slipping under the telltale shreds of webbing into the darkness beyond.

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     The spiders have been able to move around in nearly total darkness, only the starlight offering any illumination in the dense, dark forest. The moon is gone, which offered quite a bit of light, especially for Thranduil's midnight parties. The clicking and the hissing from the spiders as they move through the trees can be heard as the crickets go silent, moving to less spider-infested areas. One of them starts dropping down from the treebranches almost silently, preparing its mandibles and front legs to attack Bigby.

Tomoe has posed:
Tomoe looks as any attempt to neogiat goes down and she looks over at the other woman.

"You got quite the way with people."

She leans back there's nothing much more she can so. She's noa unaware of what's going on out sid as she leans back in her cell to wait.

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    NAsrin gives a cheeky smile, pulling back her hood a bit as she regards Tomoe. "I think I struck a nerve." Nasrin states to Tomoe, and she stretches her fingertips. "It was worth a try. I don't intend on waiting on Thranduil to get around to seeing us. I do always like a forward proposal." she replies, and she slides her elbow out, extending her arm to its full length, and stretching her fingers. "So I'll go see him."

    There's the faint sound of scratching, metal on metal as she tries to bring the gauntlet she's wearing into allignment with the keyhole.

Bigby Wolf (585) has posed:
The Wolf pauses. His ears flick back, focusing on the suspicious /absence/ of clicking and hissing directly behind him. "Well /hello/," he remarks amusedly in a soft growl. "Lovely home you have here. I was just thinking..." His hindquarters tense, and with shocking speed for something so large he whirls and leaps at the descending spider, mouth gaping, "--that I'd TAKE IT!" he roars, as he slams into the disgusting creature, his jaws snapping and front claws raking viciously into its squishy flesh.

The sudden explosion of violence sends a cloud of black birds 'caw'ing upward into the sky.

Tomoe has posed:
Tomoe looks over to Nasrin and says "You totally did, I never thought I'd run into elves that were like the fictional stories on my world to be honest. As for getting out I don't think melting the locks would be a wise idea on my part it might ... call attention to me."

Oh why or why didn't she take ranks in lock picking /seriously. She listens and looks over to Narsin

"So a little visit to the king might be in order then again we're I might get my ass flayed for this."

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     The echoing voice of a scout bursting through the gates and shouting something seems to draw the attention of the other Elves. They begin running, weapons ready, toward the gates as something sounding like "Warg" is shouted in Elvish. As a tall, elegant figure with almost-white hair was making his way down the steps, visible from nasrin and Tomoe's cells, the cry causes him to stop and look up, a look of what could possibly be described as nervousness upon his fair features. "Friends of yours?" He asks, turning his stark gaze upon the ladies.

     The Spider is taken out, but where there is one there are many more, hidden. They begin to lower themselves toward the wolf, hoping to take him out with sheer numbers rather than taking him on one at a time.

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    "If they try to flay any part of me, I will kill them." Nasrin replies, dourly. She cricks her wrist a little bit, and then she gives a flick of her fingers.

    She's trying to straight-out break the lock -- when the elegant white-haired elf makes his way down. She snaps the blade back in, closing her wrist over the tip a moment as she looks up at the cry of alarm.

    "... probably not one of mine. Yours?" she inquires, looking to Tomoe.

Bigby Wolf (585) has posed:
A hideous shrieking racket emerges from the depths of darkest Mirkwood, as the giant Wolf spins and snaps, catching one spider in his jaws only to fling it at two more; leaping through hastily-cast strands of webbing that would seek to hem him in; whirling to kick out with a hind leg at another of the creatures creeping up from along the ground. One great forepaw swipes, crashing into one of the older, more rotted trees with shivering force that causes the old wood to creak and groan, and then tumble in seeming slow motion, tearing shreds of web with it as it crashes into the center of the glade. Bigby crouches reflexively as two more of the bloated beasts land on his back, and leaps with ferocious force up against another tree trunk to scrape them off. He stomps down on a spindly leg that reaches too close and rips his claws across it as his jaws snap at its owner, forcing the hideous creature to cower back and scuttle away as its leg parts from its fat, stinking body.

He has not had this much fun in YEARS.

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     "You are in no position to make any demands." Thranduil says absently to Tomoe. "Seal the gates! Block off all entrances. Call back the scouts immediately!" His voice carries throughout the halls, sending the Silvan Elves scrambling. "Legolas is out there, get him back here at once!"

     Outside, the spiders are coming out of the shadows in droves. For everyone one or two Bigby kills, more are skittering through the trees. One of the larger ones, possibly the leader, watches from high in the branches as Bigby fights. There are shouts in Elvish as the Silvan Elves are called back, pouring outof the trees to fire their bows at a number of the spiders, heping Bigby a bit, but they disappear as quickly as they appear. One stops to shout "Leave now, it is not safe here!" then continues down the path. If Bigby was smart, he would follow.

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    Nasrin makes a face at Thranduil when his back is turned.

    "Man, what a shame you don't have a fighter on hand who's fast enough to outrun those spiders. A real shame, that, especially nto one who you don't care if you'd lose or not." She comments, looking at her nails absently.

    "Thranduil, let me go out there. Give me my blades, and turn me lose. WOuldn't be the first time I've fought a bunch of... monsters from the dark."

Tomoe has posed:
Tomoe says "I would be willing to aid your troops in exchange for getting out of here. I hunt things like those spiders! What do you have to lose if we risk our necks for you?"

Bigby Wolf (585) has posed:
Hmm, that is rather a LOT of spiders crawling out of the woodwork now. Bigby snarls in irritation at being told what to do by one of the elves that suddenly sprout from the trees; but there is some wisdom in that after all. He leaps over the rotted trunk of the tree he felled, and starts to move toward the path... but then he spies the really BIG spider lurking in the branches above. Rearing up, the Wolf plants his great forepaws against the trunk of the tree and snaps upward at the creature watching, but it's out of reach. He leaps, hooking his forelegs over a branch as if he intends to scramble up into the treetops to carry the fight there, but it creaks alarmingly and then snaps under his significant weight, sending him crashing back to the ground with a frustrated snarl.

As he rises shaking dead leaves and detritus from his fur, he sees countless more of the creatures with their clacking mandibles and beady eyes drawing in a ring around him. He /could/ fight on, but to what purpose? Instead, he laughs, and shouts tauntingly, "Was that your best? You're lucky I don't have much taste for arachnid tonight. Spin your webs stronger next time, bugs; I'll be back."

And then he whirls and lopes down the path, following the for-now more interesting scent of fleeing elf.

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     "You are a foolish child with no idea about which she speaks. Continue to open your mouth and reveal your true intelligence, and I will simply leave you here until you perhaps mature. Those spiders are nearly the size of a horse with fangs that can penetrate Elvish armor. You are much safer here. Without the moon, there is no way to see them."

     The spiders begin to close in on Bigbly, dozens of them flowing in behind, shooting webbing at him to try and trip him up. The Elves are nimble as they run, not looking back as they make their way to the narrow bridge leading to the gates. "Open the gates!" But the gates do not open.

Bigby Wolf (585) has posed:
Bigby, fortunately, doesn't need light to sense the spiders. His nose pinpoints them as well as any floodlight. He catches up to the elves easily with his huge, ground-eating strides, but seeing that there will be a delay at the gates, he turns once more on the path to face the swarming creatures, his tail swishing an angry warning as his head lowers and his yellow eyes glare defiance into the onrushing mob. "You should have quit while you had the chance," he remarks caustically.

And then he draws a deep breath. In and in, his lungs inflating to proportions that ought to be physically impossible as his chest puffs out and his head lifts and still he continues to draw in air with an ominous, faint whistling noise like the calm before a storm.

And expells it, all in one great rush, sending a hurricane-force wind crashing into the scrambling spiders. Trees creak and bend; some of the less supple crack and topple in the unrelenting force of the Wolf's breath. It goes on, and on, far longer than any lungful of air ought to last; leaves and dirt and loose stone fly about in a confusion of swirling debris; and when the gale finally dies down, the Wolf stands with a great cone of utter disaster spreading out before him.

Tomoe has posed:
Tomoe takes a deep breath, "You have two able bodied warriors willing to risk their lives and limbs to help. Are you willing to let pride blind you? Are you willing to let pride cost you the lives of your valiant troops? Against these spiders? If we fall what does it cost you or your army?!"

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    "Eh, Unionite, your calls fall on deaf ears. Don't bother; he values our lives in a cage far more than his own elves in the field of combat." Nasrin states cooly. "After all, we offer him information, explaination, and he gives us imprisonment. I'm /sure/ there's wisdom in what he does if his first option upon meeting someone new is to imprison them."

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     "Are you representatives of your homelands because if you are they did not send very good ones. I have recalled my forces back into the kingdom so that we may address the invading piders when there is light." He turns to look up at the gates, wondering why the troops have not yet returned. He looks a bit concerned, then looks back at the cells. "You are both extremely ignorant of your situation."

     Outside, the spiders are blown back, many going splat against the stronger trees. Leaves rain down as silence falls upon them, making it perhaps a little too eerie. The Elvish soldiers keep their weapons drawn, their backs to the gates as they look up and around, expecting the spiders to come from above. Only one spider approaches, however, and it is the biggest, ugliest one. It makes a hissing/spitting sound at Bigby, its eight eyes trained on him.

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    "No shit, catapillar brows. We're locked in a dungeon." Nasrin replies dryly.

Bigby Wolf (585) has posed:
The Big Bad Wolf stands, his head down and sides heaving from the effort of that incredible show of power, but his luminous yellow eyes are still bright with defiance as they size up the giant spider. "Are you sure you want to do this, Ugly?" he inquires threateningly of the spider. "Because I'm up for round two if you are." He takes a step forward, his heavy paw thumping into the ground so that a shiver of ripples spreads out from a nearby puddle; his lips peeling back from his teeth as a low, warning growl emanates from his throat.

Really, he'd much rather the creature turn tail and run at this point, so he can catch his breath and see what these elves are all about, but he'll fight on if he has to. He has a reputation to maintain.

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     Thranduil is at Nasrin's door in a flash. "Where you will stay and rot for your disrespect and foolishness. Perhaps I should set you free as you seem too ignorant that you have been held here to keep you safe." He steps back, miraculously not tripping over the long robe he wears over his..other robe. "I ordered that the gates be opened to admit the troops. Why has my command not been obeyed??" His voice carries throughout the halls, and a few Elves run to open the gates, the troops running inside save for a few who stay to fire arrows at the spider's eyes. It shrieks and starts coming across the bridge, mandibles clacking.

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    "I'd much rather meet my brothers; I'm late now and they are expecting me." Nasrin replies, showing the bottom of one of her shoes to the king and then spitting on the ground behind him. Then she gives a look down to Tomoe's cell. She exhales, and with Thranduil's back to her, she swiftly sticks her arm, bending, and presses h er gauntlet to the lock, and releases the hidden blade, trying to straight-out break the lock.

    "I don't have time for this bullshit. Unionite, we're getting out of here, let this King of Fools tend to his own."

Bigby Wolf (585) has posed:
Oh no you just did NOT, you big hairy eight legged monstrosity. With a howl of rage, the giant Wolf leaps onto the spider's back. If it wants to do this the hard way, who is he to deny the pleasure? His sharp claws dig into its thick, foul-smelling hide, ripping red trenches in the filth and his head lunges forward, jaws snapping for one of the creature's dripping mandibles, aiming to wrench it, with a heavy toss of his head, backward at such an angle as to force the thing to halt its forward motion or have it ripped out of its socket!

Elven arrows fly perilously close to his face as he leans into the line of fire, but Bigby squeezes his eyes shut to protect them, and otherwise pays the streaking projectiles no mind.

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     Thranduil turns back and frowns. "Unionite. That is the last time I will hear of that word within these halls. Your Union has declared itself an enemy of Mirkwood. If your people set foot upon my lands again, I will see they are put to immediate death!" His blue eyes are hard and cold. "Find your way out if you can. The doors have all been sealed save for one." He turns and begins walking away, back up toward his throne area.

     The spider is oddly easily torn apart and falls over sideways, dead. It twitches a few times, trying to take one more swipe at Bigby, but curling up. The gates open enough to allow the Elvish troops and Bigby to enter, knowing that wasn't the last of the spiders.

Bigby Wolf (585) has posed:
Hmmph, that wasn't nearly as challenging as it promised, Bigby thinks, as he steps out of the spider's remains, flicking blood and guts off his paws. He horks and spits out a gobbet of... something, that got stuck in his teeth. Interesting, he notices, that the gates open wide enough to admit /him/. Well, in for a copper, in for a gold piece, as they say back in the Homelands. With a confident, almost imperious air the Wolf crosses the bridge and accompanies the elves into their stronghold, his nose twitching curiously. There's that whiff of human again...

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    "UNIONITE UNIONY UNION UNION!" Nasrin calls after him, and issues forth a rude gesure. Big egos. Nasrin's used to that. But she's also used to breaking out of places much easier. She breaks the lock, adn the door protests as it swings open. Nasrin then lunges in Tomoe's direction. "We need to find our stuff and get out of here. How heavy are you?" she inquires hurriedly.

Tomoe has posed:
Tomoe looks at The jking and nods once.

"As you wish, I shall have this marked as a land that wishes to fend for it self."

Sheg says nothing else she does not open the door. She looks to Nasrin and nods.

"I'm not leaving that blade, I'm not leaving a blade like that to them. I never really checked..."

She admit she's never thought about that in avatar form she seemed to have weight but was it normal or not given she could fly.

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     The doors open once Bigby dispatches the spider, allowing the troops to return to the safety of the kingdom.

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    CRACK! Another lock bites the dust.

    "Come on, there isn't much time." Nasrin states, and when she steps, it's a blur, her weight shifting too easily from one foot to the next, too quickly to be human as she speeds her way to the guard posting to retrieve their effects.

    She wasn't about to lose her father's blade or the Damascus longsword.

    Those are /damn/ hard to find in her time period anyway.

    "We should head upwards, find a window and break it if possile. I have a ride coming.... I hope."

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     Thranduil could really care less about the prisoners. There are tens of thousands of Elves and miles of pathways to get through. Should they escape it will only be out into the woods where they can feed the spiders. Turning to walk back toward his throne, he keeps a hand close to his sword, standing on the platform, eyes watching the doors intently. He may not express positive emotions, but he is very worried about Legolas. He does straighten his posture when Bigby enters, uncertain what to make of him. The Elves don't seem overly threatened by him, so that counts for something.

Tomoe has posed:
Tomoe nods to Narsin as she heds up with her she wasn't about to lose her blade, it's might have a strange originbut to someone surived SAO? Their sword is a part of them and then she'd made that blade real in every sense, she's not about to leave it either.

I can fly ahead and good. Look if you have to leave me do it, I'll be all right. Trust me on that."

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    Nasrin raises her wrist as she grabs her things and begins to run. "Nasrin to Mal -- are you out there Captain? I could /really/ use a pickup. Hostile but /inferrior technology/ territory."

    And she pulls her hood up, securing her shrtblade, her longblade, hers sling and pouches.

    "Feelinglike myself all the time."

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
        "This is the Captain speaking," comes in a familiar-sounding voice, over Nasrin's comm unit. Serenity's probably too far off to be visible at this point, but the ship's pilot is doing all he can to get the transport closer to Nasrin's reported location.

    "Hostile?" comes another voice over the radio. Someone forgot to shut off the communicator, it seems. "She say somethin' about hostile?"

    "Jen mei nai-shing duh fwo-tzoo (Extraordinarily Impatient Buddha), Jayne! No grenades!"

    Fortunately, the comm unit cuts off here.

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    Well, when the doors are shut, get to a window. Nasrin finds a likely one, and gets through it, reaching upwards and listening for the glattering of spiders, and the humming of Serenity's engines.

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
    The whine of the ship's engines increases, and slowly, the lights from the Firefly-class transport come into view. The ship gets closer and closer, and with a bit of fancy flying, pulls up into a careful hover a hundred meters or so above Nasrin's beacon. It begins to descend, as the main bay door opens with a hydraulic hiss.

    "Don't look very much hostile to me..." says the figure standing nonchalantly in the bay, leaning against one of the hydraulics. He's holding a wired communicator unit, even though he's probably within earshot at this point.

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     "Fall back, we are under attack by more outsiders. Fall back to the low levels!" The Silvan Elves obey their king, who looks more than a little relieved when another elf with pale skin, blue eyes and nearly white hair comes up the steps. "You had me worried." He says with a tilt of his head. "Now go with the others, ensure they reach safety." The younger one knows better than to protest, so goes with the others, keeping his blades at the ready. Thranduil's wide eyes watch the lights outside which cast beams through the tiny windows high above. "Who are these people and why do they wish to invade us?" He breathes, unsheathing his sword.

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    "They were hostile when they pointed swords at me and and fired arrows. Thanks for the lift -- sorry for the trouble." she gives a grin, and swings herself up and onto the open bay door in the firefly.

    "Seriously, a mis-gate into the wrong woods and they think there's an army invading them."

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
    Mal offers a hand, while flashing that quick, roguish sort of grin that he favors. "Can't imagine you gave 'em a reason why," is the Captain's retort.

    "Attention pointy-eared denizens of....this land," comes a new voice, presumably belonging to the ship's pilot, who'd have access to the Firefly's external speakers. "If you shoot any arrows or try to pour boiling oil on my spaceship, I'm going to be very upset. I may even try to squish a few of you."

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    "/I/ didn't!" Nasrin protests to Mal. "I was perfectly well behaved."

Thranduil (592) has posed:
     That causes Thranduil to send his armored troops to the narrow bridge, their response to the threat of being squished to fire a shower of arrows, some of which doused in fire or light oil. Thranduil comes out and stands with them, sword drawn. His eyes are like saucers as he looks at the flying object. "I am Thranduil, king of the Silvan lands of Mirkwood. Your people have invaded our land and threatened our people. They brought the spiders from Dol Goldur. The Union has declared itself an enemy of Mirkwood!"

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
    There's a snort of amusement from somewhere up in the cockpit, probably belonging to the large figure still toting around a bandolier stuffed with generous portions of grenades and ammo. Even Mal gives a good-natured chuckle, as the bay's doors slowly hiss shut as a hail of arrows THUNK against the ship's skin.

    "They're gonna chip the paint!" protests the ship's captain.

    "Hey...HEY!" says the voice from the ship's amplification system. "I said NO oil!"

    The captain's voice comes over the sound system, apparently having kicked his pilot off: "Look here, Frand-will... Not trying to pick a fight with your King-liness.. Just came here for one of ours. That's all. Now we'll be on our merry as soon as you stop tryin' to ruin my boat's fine paint job."

Nasrin (400) has posed:
    Nasrin just disappears into the ship, presumably to get the stink of /ELF/ off her. Yeesh

Tomoe has posed:
Tomoe says "This is just one of those days."

She's going to get the heck out of her and has no intention to come back. She considers speaking up but she's not going to say anything else. She's going to get the heckl out of here, she moves to get off hte ramp she goes give the King a look before she vanishes aboard.