Goblin Town -- Logs

When Shane shows up at lunch, he brings news that Jaeger is with Marcus and recovering in the conservatory. Cinnamon nods, "That's fine! He's not required to come over, after all... and he's still welcome to visit tomorrow, before the meeting. Even if he doesn't, we can just give him the money afterwards, too!" She grins as she adds, "Wish I could have seen Marcus's face when his dad just came walking in like normal!"

Shane laughs, "I met Ingrid in the market. She was giggling a lot and speaking very softly because she didn't want to be overheard. Marcus is doing his very best to seem Competent and Adult... something Jaeger just is."

Cinnamon smiles ruefully as she pushes her glasses up, "Poor guy! He's going to be wound tighter than a bowstring by the time of the meeting, I bet!"

Thorn has come over as well, having met Shane on the way from the Infirmary. He smiles quietly, "Sounds like Marcus was seriously caught off guard by Jaeger's condition!"

Shane nods, "I think he was. The news made it to him, but I think he believed it to be somewhat exaggerated."

Cinnamon grins as she helps Josie bring food out for everyone, "Well, I'm just thrilled Jaeger is doing well!" Lunch is a pleasant, cheerful time together, and Cinnamon has that odd, almost tight or warm feeling in her chest again, as she looks around and sees people she cares about, all having a nice time with her... in her own cozy little house. She's not yet sure what that sensation means... but she sure likes what's happening when it occurs!

The next day is much the same... except that around noon there's a knock at the door. When Josie answers it, there's a quiet conversation and the wolf shifter sounds surprised. However, she knows that Cinnamon wants to see the person there, so she steps aside. Curiously, the person that steps through the door doesn't look familiar -- they're dressed in clothes that are just on the respectable side of ragged, with a newsboy cap with a broad brim. Over one arm is the handle of a broad, flat basket with a gingham cloth over the contents and tucked in at the sides. The posture is slouched and the person somehow gives the impression of being disreputable, but forgettable... right up until he stands up straight and takes off the cap -- revealing Jaeger's patrician features and pale hair.

Cinnamon blinks startledly, pushing her glasses up... then laughs, "Wow, that was an awesome disguise, Jaeger!" She beams, waving a hand towards the low table that everyone is gathered around, adding, "Would you like to come have lunch with us?"

Jaeger chuckles quietly, "When one doesn't look quite right to humans, one learns how to seem different than one is." Shane nods to that; Thorn has seen how the half-beansidhe can pull on a disguise that seems very un-Shane-like. Jaeger holds up the basket, "I had hoped to catch you at lunch. I brought some of Ingrid's pumpernickel and some of her fig jam."

Cinnamon beams again, her eyes lighting up as she exclaims, "Oh! Please tell Ingrid thank you so much from us all?" She hastily makes a space for Jaeger as well, adding, "We can talk about serious stuff after we've eaten, okay?" She wants lunch to be pleasant for everyone, after all.

Jaeger smiles at Cinnamon's enthusiasm, "I agree: food first! Serious conversation after." The meal is jovial and pleasant; Jaeger actually turns out to be a good storyteller, and when relaxed, he's even more charming than when being serious. He also has a very nice laugh. He compliments everyone on something through out the meal, and all of them ring true. Cinnamon is told about her lovely smile, which causes her to blush with pleasure at the lovely compliment! Thorn is thanked for the way he helped with the vigils and the funeral, and the elf also gives the medic-mage a letter from Athala. He's a bit amused about his son being a little stiff in manners, "I think he's afraid I will demand he step down from his seat on the council."

Thorn tries not to read the letter from Athala at the table, especially where guests are present. He instead thanks Jaeger profusely for bringing the letter since he knew the staid beansidhe didn't have to, and tucked it away carefully for later reading. He'll definitely have to find some way to respond in kind... but that will keep for later! For now, his entire attention is on Jaeger -- and lunch, of course. It helps to keep his stomach from turning into knots with what is planned for that evening.

Cinnamon pushes her glasses up, curiously inquiring of Jaeger, "But... you wouldn't do that, would you? I mean, that's the impression you gave me earlier... so why would he worry... oh!" She sits up suddenly, "That -- is that why he thinks I'm calling this session? Poor guy, if so!" She adds slowly, "It must be... exhausting to be so tightly wound!"

Jaeger sighs, "My son is at the point in his life where he is very much on his honor and protective of every scrap of perceived power or authority. I don't want my seat back -- it is a very large burden off my shoulders. He is nervous about the meeting, but I think it is a somewhat nebulous nervousness." Thorn nods a little; he understands that nebulous sense of foreboding. In a way, it reassures him that Marcus isn't part of the murder plot. In fact, having seen Marcus's performance in the first council meeting, Thorn is now reasonably sure Marcus will be amongst those who will denounce the plot. Of course, how strongly and how reluctantly is the question.

Cinnamon nods with a bit of relief at Jaeger's news, "Well, that's good. While I think it'd be foolish to let him get close to me, emotionally, right now... I certainly don't wish him more anxiety because of me, you know?"

Cinnamon waits until lunch is over, and everyone is relaxed and happy, before she turns to Jaeger with a small smile, "So. We have something for you, Jaeger -- well, for you and your people." She waves a hand towards everyone as she adds, "We all worked on it together, too! So... first, we want to make it clear that we understand nothing can replace those who died, and we don't mean it that way at all, please, okay? But... we thought there was perhaps a little justice in the fact that we found the company that sent the mercenaries... and Spice-" She blinks as it suddenly hits her, "Oh! Where are my manners?! Spice, please meet Jaeger, one of the elders of the trod of the Elm! Jaeger, this is Spice, an incredibly capable and smart friend -- and apparently also a dragon's assistant!"

Jaeger smiles at Spice, "I saw the underside of your hair when you turned around. It's lovely. And I'm pleased to meet you."

Cinnamon grins sheepishly as she adds quietly to Spice, "Dude, poke me if I'm stupidly rude like that again, please?" It doesn't occur to her just how dramatically she differs from Jaeger's son, in that moment.

Spice grins, "What? I could have said hi myself?"

Cinnamon giggles at Spice! Jaeger chuckles, then turns back to Cinnamon to listen closely as she turns back to the ancient elf and adds, "So Spice hacked their account and withdrew a huge chunk of money! We'd like you to have some of it... as a sort of poetic justice, if nothing else? Plus, maybe there's something your trod could use, in the human world -- and money's usually good for that!"

He nods, "You're right: nothing can replace them. But having some capital with which to be able to take more precautions both in and out of the trod would be much appreciated."

Cinnamon beams at Jaeger, "Awesome! Spice can give you all the information for the account when you want it then, okay?" She wonders if she should mention the entire plot... then decides not to -- but rather, to let Jaeger either ask for that information when he's ready... or to learn it with everyone else at the emergency session that night.

Spice jots down the information on a scrap of paper that Jaeger makes disappear into his clothes. Then he says gravely, "Please, I would ask that you not give me further details. I wish to be able to truthfully say that I know nothing about what's happening."

Cinnamon nods curiously, "Is that... important? Oh! Also, Dmitry has been really, really helpful -- thank you so much for letting him come assist us!" She beams at Dmitry as she adds, "Also, thank you for being willing to come!"

Dmitry nods solemnly, "It is because of Jaeger's mercy that I can be here."

Jaeger shrugs, "Another death would not have balanced out those that were lost. As for its importance, it means that I cannot give it away."

Cinnamon smiles at Dmitry -- then nods in sudden understanding to Jaeger, "Got it! Well, it should all come out tonight." The rest of the lunch goes well, and Jaeger takes his leave, pulling his disreputable-seeming mien before departure. He seemed mostly in good health and good spirits.

Finally it's time to start preparing for the emergency council session! Josie has brought her council clothes to Cinnamon's house, so she can get dressed there. By now she knows in her head that Cinnamon is literally bullet-proof, but she's a pack animal and a protector -- she wants to stay close to her friend! Tonight she's wearing quite a nice tailored suit. In her lupine form she doesn't have human breasts, so it's a sharp line along the front -- which gets a low, appreciative whistle from Spice that makes the wolf-shifter's ears go burning red. Cinnamon giggles in spite of herself! -then laughs and hugs Josie, "You look awesome, Jo!"

The others present agree, making Josie wag in her unconsciously dangerous way. It's not as if she'd kill anyone, but she could certainly leave a bruise -- and clear off every horizontal surface! Thorn, for his part, doesn't think of them as "scrubs" anymore, but rather healer's clothing. Therefore he will wear them while attending the council meeting -- albeit in the audience and as discreetly as possible. He hopes they won't be too distinctive... then decides not to worry so much about it. Cinnamon dresses in her usual business suit, though she does try to use the one with the pinned-up skirt. She mutters amusedly at herself as she does so, "Should've gotten this sewn up properly before this, darnit!"

Josie looks Cinnamon over and asks with absolutely innocent inquisitiveness, "Do you feel confident in those clothes or are they just what you think you ought to wear?"

Cinnamon looks down at herself thoughtfully... then smiles ruefully, "Well, I admit the short skirt makes me feel a little... exposed? But I'll pin up my hair in a nice, business-like bun, and I've got my tablet with the information on it in my suitcase... so yeah?" She laughs as she adds, "Being able to walk slowly there is a must, though -- or it's a three-mile hike that leaves me all sweaty and breathless!" She doesn't notice the irony of her referring to a knee-length skirt as 'short,' however!

Josie tips her head, "But it doesn't... look like you. It looks like someone trying to make you be a matron -- and you're not a matron. You're a maiden."

Cinnamon blinks startledly at Josie, her cheeks flushing, "A m-maiden?! It shows?! How can you tell?!" A heartbeat later she gasps, "Oh! Wait," if anything, she goes even brighter red, "sorry, sorry! I g-get it -- that's not what you meant!"

Josie seems confused at Cinnamon's embarrassment, but then nods, "You're young! You look like someone said 'if you want to be taken seriously, you dress like this.' But that's not the same as something that makes you feel powerful."

Cinnamon gives Josie a puzzled look, "Powerful, me? I just... want to feel a bit confident while delivering presentations, you know?"

Josie nods, "Powerful -- I mean, you're a dragon!"

Cinnamon smiles up at Josie, pushing her glasses up, "Jo, it's easy for you to change shape and be all big and scary... but I've yet to do anything except breathe fire and be sturdy, you know? So... maybe I'll feel powerful someday, but right now I'm good with just... confident?"

Spice pats Josie on the arm and smiles, "She looks very well put together. Don't fluster anymore, sugar."

Cinnamon grins shyly at Spice as she adds, "Thank you!"

Cinnamon makes sure they have lots of time before the actual meeting when she departs her little house with her friends, locking it securely behind her. She intends to be cool, composed, and calm when she arrives! Shane and Dmitry have already gone back to the unofficial sheriff's house to get dressed. Shane is also quietly going to get a few extra weapons ready. He expects this to be -- possibly literally, seeing how things have been going -- explosive.

Josie knows she can easily outpace Cinnamon and even Spice, so she's strolling as slowly as she can without feeling like she's creeping along. There's a bit of traffic toward the hall as they walk. Of course, the last meeting also had an audience from all up and down the street. They actually end up being some of the first councilors there and Josie takes Cinnamon to a small antechamber, promising Spice they'll be fine and she should go find a seat. Cinnamon smiles and waves at her friends before turning to follow Josie, "Enjoy yourselves!" She figures the hard work is done now, for them. She's determined, of course, to give a perfect presentation so as to best showcase their hard work with her!

When Thorn arrives in the audience, he discovers he isn't alone in the whites department -- Nikos is going to be at the meeting as well. Iason, the daemon explains, felt he should stay at the infirmary for a while yet. Thorn has found himself a seat approximately opposite where Cinnamon is going to be sitting. He wants to keep his eyes on the 'reveal' faction people, and anything that they might do in their 'corner,' so to speak. Otherwise he sits quietly -- he's trying to be discreet and inconspicuous, though not silently brooding. Thus it's easy for Spice to find a seat -- because aside from Nikos and Thorn, Shane and Dmitry are also already in attendance.

Dmitry, Spice, and Shane are happy to sit with Thorn and Nikos. They speak quietly with the healers, and Dmitry and Shane are fairly subtle about being the flankers, putting the other three between them. The five of them can see Jaeger in the gallery as well, sitting behind Marcus' seat. They can also see that people are stopping to speak with him fairly often. Thorn is glad for Nikos's presence. Not that he isn't comforted by Shane, Dmitry, and Spice! But it does make him feel that the healers of Coblyn Street are... not a faction, but rather a unifying presence? Also, he thinks a touch unhappily, he's glad there's another healer here -- in case something goes very badly.

In the antechamber, Cinnamon smiles politely should anyone greet her. She's in that pre-public-presentation-calm mindset... where she's quiet and almost withdrawn unless spoken to, due to being totally focused on her upcoming talk. In the antechamber, Cinnamon and Josie discover Aoi and Nasteexo (or at least it's Nasteexo's bodyguard with the mocha-skinned young woman) are already there. Elias arrives just moments later, dressed quite elegantly even if his suit is somewhat outdated. Elias not only greets Cinnamon but hugs her warmly -- which she returns with relief! It's good to know he's here and on her side. His fanged smile tends to get less alarming as one gets to know him and his gentle nature.

Nasteexo too comes over and their bodyguard translates greetings. There's not a hug, but the lwa's horse does take both of Cinnamon's hands and gently squeeze them. Aoi's greeting, on the other hand, is polite but not overly friendly. The other councilors are starting to arrive as well. Aisling is dressed in as sober a manner as Cinnamon has ever seen her -- yet still manages to look like she's going to some elegant party. Qadan is scowling, while Jalil greets her with apparently real warmth. Jarek is... Jarek. Marcus is also warmly cordial, but not exactly friendly. Killa arrives last and manages not to speak to Cinnamon at all.

Cinnamon is quietly tense enough that she hardly registers Killa at all, but she's happy to return greetings with pleasure. She sticks close to Josie, waiting until they're all asked in to seat themselves at the big table. Hilde greets Marcus, but then moves on as the other elfin member of the council speaks quietly with Aoi and Jalil. Hilde and Sparrow both hug Cinnamon. Sparrow's brown eyes are twinkling, "Girl, I don't know what you're up to, but I hope it's fantastic."

Cinnamon blinks startledly at Sparrow -- then giggles in spite of herself as she pushes her glasses up, "Oh, I hope so too!" She wonders suddenly -- is Qadan scowling because he's discovered the loss of money? Hmm... well, not important now! She smiles at her friends, abruptly almost tearily glad they're there to stand with her -- even if they don't know exactly why!

Last time, Cinnamon witnessed the procession of councilors from up in the gallery. This time, Josie helps her find her place in line and gives her one last hug. As before, the entry of the councilors is a solemn affair and they each move to their seats. All of them -- save Sparrow -- sit with that seriousness of posture that one sees in judges. Sparrow, however, sprawls. In fact, no one here has ever seen Sparrow sit up straight. He's also once again wearing denim cutoffs, a t-shirt, and no shoes at all. Caradog enters last, just as before, and takes his seat on the dais. He's got Diarmaid and Lorcan on either side of him.

Around the room, people are speaking quietly. The news of just why the meeting was called hasn't made it around, but the fact that it was called at all is a nine-days wonder -- and that it was called so quickly makes it even more mysterious. From the lack of armor and weapons, however, it's clear people think it's just going to be more of the typical political maneuvering. Thorn murmurs, "Once you finish those currants, pretty lady, please keep an eye on the doors into the chambers? Just in case some people decide to crash the party?" Erin is delighted to have her treat! She lets Thorn know she'll be happy to keep an eye out, too. She actually flies up and settles atop the elaborate lintel of the door.

Cinnamon carefully sets up her tablet to her right, booting it up so it's ready to go when she's called on to speak. The simple, well-known process is oddly comforting, and it occurs to her: she's done everything she can think of to prepare! She's also internally quite relieved that enough time has passed... that the horrific bruise on her face has finally faded! So... yes, she now feels confident. She folds her hands in her lap, settles back, and waits patiently for her turn... letting her gaze travel idly about the room. Once the councilors and the king are all settled, the meeting is called to order. There's some of the usual Robert's Rules of Order, asking about old business (there is none) before bringing up new business. This is where Cinnamon has her first chance to speak.

Cinnamon stands up when she's called on, speaking slowly and clearly, "I've called this meeting because I've discovered something which I believe is very important... regarding the attack on the trod of the Elm. I want to share it with you all." Then she sits down again. This, she knows from previous meetings of this sort, is when the nervous and the guilty do most of their blustering. Once that's dealt with, she'll be able to give her data.

Marcus' face is mostly tense and Aoi looks almost bored. Killa is obviously irritated. All the 'hide' faction are serious... except Sparrow. Sparrow, as is his wont, is smirking. He's not sure what's going on but he can sense mischief and even chaos ten miles off. There's whispering around the room as people in the gallery ask what she's talking about. In fact, Nasteexo's bodyguard/translator asks, "Please explain what you mean, councilor."

Cinnamon looks puzzled, pushing her glasses back into place as she looks around, "Um... you all are aware of the attack on the trod of the Elm, aren't you?" She looks at Marcus, adding, "Surely it wasn't kept secret that mercenaries tried to murder the entire trod?!"

Apparently at least part of it was kept quiet -- because there's quite an increase in the talking in the gallery! Caradog raises his voice above the hubbub, "Please, good people! Let the councilors speak!" That seems to be Marcus' cue to stand. He's still wearing his mourning colors -- as is Jaeger -- and he starts to expound upon the deaths in his trod and the fact that it was an attack by hired killers. Killa stands up then and starts blustering right back, bringing up the genocide of many native peoples. This makes both Sparrow and Josie roll their eyes -- one has nothing to do with the other! This is just making Killa look like an ass -- and a complicit one!

Cinnamon sighs and relaxes a bit -- this should be a while, which means she can take some deep breaths and remain calm. She lets her gaze travel idly about the council table, wondering what they all -- well, Qadan in particular -- thinks of all this. Qadan actually looks almost bored, while the other councilors are listening with various expressions of shock and outrage. Sparrow finally stands up and whistles sharply -- which fortunately manages to quiet Killa and Marcus down. The ancient American Indian spirit snaps, "Killa, you asshole, this got nothin' to do with that. It's horrible and my people were almost wiped out, too. But this is now. Sit your ass down!" This -- possibly unfortunately -- gets chuckles from around the room.

Thorn is keeping his attention on people other than Killa and Marcus. Anything unexpected isn't going to come from those two -- at least not when all the attention is on them. He's glad to see there's no love lost between the individuals of the reveal faction, though. Interestingly, Thorn is starting to see a couple of people shifting around the room, in a rather suspicious way. They aren't acting overtly threatening, but they seem to be quietly moving toward the rear door -- the one that Caradog came in through. He quickly points them out to Shane, quietly murmuring, "Where does that door lead?"

On the council room floor, Cinnamon doesn't see Moustapha or Niamh in the room, but she also knows Caradog was going to send guards to get the sidhe and keep her out of trouble -- or keep her from making trouble. However, Cinnamon does see Qadan smirking as he looks down at something below the table. The young dragon tilts her head curiously, wondering what it is. Is he... talking to someone via phone or something?

Shane looks where Thorn is discreetly pointing... and his eyes narrow, "It leads into another antechamber -- one that leads outside. It's not exactly an alley, but it's meant to be discreet, for Caradog to move around from the palace to here..." As the two men are having that exchange, Cinnamon notices movement at the main doors: they swing open -- to reveal a grinning Moustapha! Hot on his heels is a phalanx of armored and armed people -- who rush into the room with terrifying speed and precision, setting up to strafe the table where the councilors are seated!

Cinnamon rises worriedly to her feet as Moustapha steps into the room -- but when she sees yet more mercenaries, she simply, instinctively reacts! Around the table and up in the gallery there are cries of shock, amazement, fear, and delight -- as a beautifully shimmering scarlet dragon bursts into being where Cinnamon was a heartbeat previously! She leaps up and bounds gracefully along the tabletop, shouting, "Everyone, get down!" -- then flings herself off the table to rear up between the mercenaries and everyone else. Her scarlet crest has flared up in shock and upset, and her wings spread out dramatically in her efforts to protect as many people as possible -- spreading almost 45 feet from tip to tip!

A second before that, Thorn hisses a soft curse as he stands at sight of Moustapha and the mercenaries, "What the devil does he thinking he's doing?!" His eyes flick around for anything his small magic can affect, that might have a suitable effect -- a chandelier above the mercenaries, a rug he can pull out from under one of them... and most of all, something to wipe that smirk off of Moustapha's -- Thorn blinks -- face? Because suddenly there's a very large and very angry red dragon facing down the mercenaries! "Holy crap!" the healer murmurs. Next to him, Shane says something in a shocked tone that sounds like it means the same thing, as he bolts to his feet. His sword is out of its sheath and into his hand so fast that it's hard to actually see him do it.

The mercs were apparently not warned about what they were actually going to be up against -- because with startled and angry shouts, most of them turn their fire on the huge red beast that seems to have suddenly appeared out of nowhere! Unsurprisingly, the bullets are large caliber -- large enough to actually hurt a little as they strike Cinnamon's body and her outspread wings. Cinnamon gasps at the stinging, then hastily starts thinking again -- got to keep the mercs closed in and shooting at her! She turns her head and gives a short, quick flame-burst at the gunman closest to being able to dodge around her wing, trying to ruin his weapon -- and what the heck are they shooting anyway, that it hurts more than when she got shot in the face?! She reflexively 'senses' the bullets, trying to figure that out.

Spice and Shane are both wearing kevlar -- they're both far more streetwise than Cinnamon! They vault the balustrade to join the fray. As they do, the first of the councilors falls: Aoi pushes to her feet, her flaming wings spreading as she started to scream a raptor's shriek of anger! -- but sadly, in that vulnerable in-between moment, one of the mercs' bullets hits her. The angry screech turns into a shrill of pain as the fiery phoenix disintegrates into ashes. However, Aoi's sudden scream breaks Thorn out of his reverie, "Scheisse! Erin, try to pick out who's escaping through the back door!" All these gunshots are certain to be hitting more than the councilors -- and Thorn's first priority is to the wounded. He's reasonably certain Cinnamon has got this in hand -- er, wing... talon? Claw?

Erin swoops down and over the heads of the people trying to slip out the back door, startling them -- and then they're a little more than startled when not only do Diarmaid and Lorcan draw their swords, but four more king's guards come bursting in from the antechamber! Apparently Caradog suspected something... bad might happen at this meeting.

As the bullets thud stingingly off her, Cinnamon can sense their makeup: lead, copper, iron, and silver. It's an extremely deadly combination, given just who is in this room. Cinnamon blinks startledly, her head rearing gracefully up on the long, sinuous neck as she glances over her shoulder and shouts, "Josie -- silver! Get Hilde and Ais- no, get all the elves out, please -- and Nasteexo!" She wonders bemusedly how on Earth Moustapha got all these people sneaked in here?! She certainly has her hands -- or wings, in this case -- rather full, however, trying to contain the mercenaries, and the thought is lost as she hastily fire-poofs on a few more weapons. Maybe if the guns are too hot to handle they'll warp, or the mercs will drop them?

At the rear doors, Caradog's guards have taken down the handful of people that were moving that direction. Lorcan is gone -- and so is Caradog, though that only makes sense. Up in the gallery, Thorn snarls softly. The first mercenary he can see as he circles around the gallery -- he'll try to use his little magic to push the man's rifle down to the ground as hard as possible. Down on the council room floor, Josie too snarls, though much more loudly and fiercely. Her hackles are up as she grabs the nearest elf and rushes them toward the back doors. That happens to be Hilde, who doesn't seem to want to be dragged out -- but she's no match, physically, for Josie. On her way to the door Josie also tries to herd Jaeger and Marcus out. Jaeger knows he's absolutely not bulletproof! He moves briskly in the direction Josie's indicating. His son, however, is still young enough to think he's immortal -- and so Marcus actually steps around one of Cinnamon's sheltering wings, shouting at the mercenaries about being honorless dogs. Luckily for him, he tries to duck around on the side Spice is on. She pops him on the jaw and the elf goes down just before the bullets fly his way! He gets unceremoniously dragged toward Josie's little herd of escaping, fragile people.

Thorn curses, but it's almost a relieved expletive -- Cinnamon's wings are keeping most of the mercenaries from shooting the councilors -- as well as preventing random shooting into the crowd! He can't see Moustapha, though hopefully that one is getting toasted at least a little. At Cinnamon's shout regarding silver, Thorn moves to quickly help the nearest sidhe get out of the way. He knows Cinnamon can tell the composition of metals -- so if she's calling to get the sidhe out, then that means the bullets have iron in them! Sparrow seems to be gone, though Aisling is near the front of the room, her hair starting to fan out around her -- she apparently didn't hear the warning to get the sidhe out! -or perhaps simply didn't want to obey it. Luckily for her, Thorn is there to yank her out of the way just as one of the extra-deadly bullets whizzes by! It's close enough to her face for her to feel the heat from it against her cheek.

As Cinnamon flames their weapons, the mercs are variously screaming, trying to flee, or just crazy enough to go for other weapons and try to close with the enormous dragon! Fortunately there are only about three of them which are that calm, or have enough knowledge of what they're up against to not panic. Cinnamon has actually lost track of everything but the mercenaries by this point -- there's way too much noise and confusion going on around her, due to the insane furor! People are screaming and roaring, there's the ear-shattering rattle of automatic fire, the scent of blood and cordite is stinking up the room and it's hard to see due to all the smoke! She can taste the acrid flavor of adrenaline and the rankness of terrified sweat on her forked tongue as she simply grabs the weapon of the nearest merc in her teeth, then flings him back against the wall to try and keep him from getting out and shooting at the shoving, shrieking, fleeing crowd. She raises her head after that, shouting over her shoulder, "Jalil! This is Moustapha and Qadan's fault!" Then she hisses in annoyance -- another stupid merc is trying to sneak past her, darnit! It's like trying to herd cockroaches!

Jalil is standing and watching from the wings -- he'd stayed behind rather than fleeing. When he hears Cinnamon's exasperated yell, he slowly takes off his dark glasses and looks around the room -- revealing the eyes that are not just flame... but rather an abyss of roaring fire! He spreads his arms -- and in that instant he becomes fire -- a whirling column of flame like a miniature incendiary tornado, sweeping forward into the room again. At that, Moustapha finally stops grinning, whipping around to flee. Unfortunately for him, flame can be as fast as thought; the mischief spirit is unceremoniously yanked back into the whirling fire elemental's crackling embrace. His screams are sharp and terrified -- until they abruptly cut off.

Killa is one of the least vulnerable of the people in the room, especially since he's smugly turned into his enormous constrictor form -- a terrifyingly huge anaconda! He's currently wrapped around one of the handful of mercenaries which managed to slip past Cinnamon, and the powerfully muscled anaconda's body starts to constrict as his head rears back to strike. The merc is terrified out of his mind and unable to use his weapon -- so he does the only thing he can think to do. Screaming invectives, he yanks out a grenade and shoves it deeply into Killa's gaping maw! It turns out to be a white phosphorous grenade -- and the stink and smoke from it fills the air as he thrusts it wildly, as deep as he can into the nightmare mouth full of teeth!

To Cinnamon the mercs are starting to feel a bit like herding cats -- she can't get them to stay in place, and she can't get them to calm down and surrender! Just as she manages to shove back one cluster attempting to escape, another small group makes a break for either under or around her wings. One merc tries tossing a regular fragmentation grenade at her -- but when it simply bounces off her armored chest, the resulting explosion takes out the original attacker and badly wounds two others. The attempt to roll a phosphorus grenade under her just made the wooden floor begin to burn... at least until she unwittingly kicked it out of her way, which meant that other parts of the room are burning now too, and smoke is drifting obscuringly around as well. Sadly -- to Cinnamon -- the mercenaries all seem to be ignoring her stern admonition for them to stop shooting and just calm! Down!

Those mercs which manage to use the smoke to escape the dragon's fiery regard find themselves in a brand new world of hurt... when the warrior souls of Coblyn step up to angrily mow them down. The humans were simply not adequately prepared by their employers for blindingly swift sword dancers with gleaming blades trailing dazzling sparks; or 12' tall, roaring bear monsters; or glowing-eyed creatures with hissing laughter and claws like scythes!

The rest of the crowd is doing its best to disperse without attracting the attention of the few mercs remaining who still have their automatics... but there's a distressing number of fallen and/or wounded, and the scent of blood in the air mingles with the scent of smoke and rage. Thorn turns to Nikos, shouting, "Nikos! Please, get Iason! It's a war zone here!" Surprisingly, Nikos is damned fast for someone usually so laconic! In fact, he moves rather like a mountain goat, ignoring whether he's on the floor, furniture, or railings. He gets through the crowd being evacuated out the back door fast, heading for the oracle/scholar/healer.

From the corner of her eye Cinnamon catches sight of something moving at frightening speed. It's only when the form pauses and literally rips the throat out of one of the mercs that was menacing one of the street's gnomish denizens that she sees: it's Elias. There's no discernable pause between the merc going down and Elias literally dragging two people out of the way. After that, even Cinnamon loses track of him, aside from occasional there-and-gone flashes of motion as he helps get the more vulnerable out of the room. Cinnamon blinks in shock -- then gives her head a vigorous shake -- worry about that later! Elias won't hurt anyone from Coblyn... but he can be hurt by fire!

The mercs are taking the worst of the damage, but they've managed to do a lot of harm already. Flames, screams, and sobs crackle and echo everywhere. Smoke wreathes the room, and there's the sound of some sort of siren from outside. A small handful of the mercs are trying to regroup and retreat, moving as a group of three and shoulder to shoulder, firing sidearms that have escaped Cinnamon's flames. There's a bugling cry and the three of them turn in startlement -- that's not the sort of sound one hears on a battlefield! Or at least not if one is too young to remember actual mounted cavalry.

One of Iason's hooves strikes the middle one in the head, smashing him down in a bloody pulp -- which startles the other two enough that Cinnamon can get at them. She shoots a quick, careful gout of flame to take out the handgun of one -- but when the other whirls and starts shooting at her, she loses her temper and instinctively whacks him with the side of her head -- and the merc goes flying through the air! He smacks hard into a wall, leaving a dent as he falls limply to the ground. Cinnamon swallows hard, turning to check, "Iason! Are you okay?!"

Iason's nostrils are flaring and his face is stern, "This is unconscionable!" Nikos is behind him as Iason says in a crisp, no-nonsense voice, "Get Thorn. Get people moving the wounded into the entry hall. We'll do triage there." Across the centaur's withers is a set of heavy saddlebags; Nikos is carrying a heavy pack on his back as well.

Cinnamon calls worriedly after them, "Watch out for the fires, guys, please!"

Thorn immediately hears his name, and he focuses on Iason. He's so damn glad the healer arrived! He makes his way to Iason, helping to move the wounded and injured to the entry hall as Iason instructed. Triage will be important now; he hopes that there are none who are considered 'too far gone.' In the entry hall are two of the young healers that are basically apprentices with less knowledge than Thorn or Nikos. They're the equivalent of CNAs in human terms. They're laying out bandages, salves, blankets, and the other accoutrements of a battlefield hospital.

In the main council room Cinnamon looks around herself in dismay, folding up her wings again as she realizes there just aren't any mercenaries still trapped in front of her... but there's one heck of a lot of fires in here! She shifts anxiously, murmuring unwittingly under her breath, "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear -- what do I do? What can I do to help?!" Maybe... can she... sit on a fire and... smother it, maybe? Or... has everyone gotten out that needs help? She looks around a bit helplessly, slightly overwhelmed by the sheer extent of this disaster.

Between one whirl of smoke and another, Cinnamon feels hands -- wait, no -- those are paws on her chest -- and there's the sound of a sharp whistle to get her attention to focus downward. The creature there is enormous for a coyote, but it's definitely a coyote. Cinnamon blinks in startled bemusement down at her front... then blinks again, "Uh... helloo... oh! Er..." Hesitantly she checks, "Sparrow? Is that you?"

Canine faces can't grin in the same way humans can, but he lolls his tongue and the voice seems to come from somewhere just in front of his forehead, "That's me, darlin'! Hold on for a second; you've got that look of someone too scattered to think real straight just now..."

Cinnamon blinks again, and her next words unwittingly reveal that Sparrow's right on the money, "Whoa... how do you do that?! -talk that way, I mean?"

There's another tongue loll and Sparrow's hearty laugh, "Really? That's an important question right now?"

Cinnamon blinks and shakes her head vigorously again, then takes a deep breath, "Right! OK, you're right -- that's dumb! So, uh..." She glances around, then down at Sparrow again, "Do you need a lift out of the room, over the fires?"

Sparrow laughs again and shakes his head, tail lashing and eyes gleaming, "Oh, darlin', you need to read more stories about Coyote..." He bunts his head against her chest, "Sit down a second. You gotta calm down." Cinnamon looks confused, but obediently settles her derriere down. Her long tail sweeps around to curl neatly about her feet -- accidentally swiping through a nearby fire and sending yet more sparks flying -- and her big wings instinctively tilt down so she's braced on the 'knuckles' of her wing-wrists. She glances around warily despite Sparrow's instructions, worried about someone sneaking up on them. Well, at least her front paw-hands are free if Sparrow needs defending or something!

Elsewhere, in a last desperate attempt to go down fighting, one of the wounded mercs stirs enough to pull a knife and take a swipe at Thorn's leg as the mage/healer is trying to help one of the wounded out the door. Just as Sparrow seemed to come out of nowhere, so too Dmitry is at Thorn's side -- and a wickedly sharp, curved blade slices across the merc's throat. The burn-scarred ex-merc murmurs, "I am sorry, Piotr..." then moves to help Thorn with the wounded person.

Thorn is not fast enough to pull his leg back from the swipe, but fortunately Dmitry is there far quicker than he can react. Thorn stares at the slashing red mark left on the floor as Dmitry helps him with the wounded Coblynite he's trying to guide to the entry hall. Adrenaline makes the medic breathe shallowly, panting, "You... you knew him?" Out in the entry hall, Thorn's hope that there are none too far gone proves to be a vain one. Luckily, the number is low: there's one body with a white sheet pulled over it, with wet red stains on the cloth. The other body is obviously going to be breathing his last in the next minute or so.

As Thorn sees all this he fails to catch Dmitry's answer, moaning quietly, "No, no, no...." Even one death is too much! -but a second, while still breathing right there in front of him...? He prays softly, reaching his hands towards the person so clearly dying in pain, squeezing his eyes almost shut as he desperately tries to draw whatever healing he can from his little magic to at least give the person a bit more time, just enough time for a healer to see them -- or to at least not die alone... wherever it comes from, whatever it is, Thorn's magic reaches out and wraps around the dying form. It's not a return to full health, but it is enough to pull the man -- he looks like he might be one of the svartaelfar -- back from the brink. Some color returns to his face, and his breathing evens out from a labored rasp to something still painful but not a death rattle. Thorn exhales loudly, and tries to gather himself. "C-come on," he says to Dmitry, "please, help me with this one...." and he wades into the triage sea, hoping there is no further plunge into its depths.

Dmitry nods and wipes off the blade, then puts the knife back into the sheath decorated with Celtic knotwork which hangs on his belt, "Da, my friend. I will do what I can." He rests a hand gently on Thorn's shoulder and moves with the healer. The quick thinking and swift action of the warriors who were in the council chamber means there are some bad wounds, but those are the minority. There are some folks that need help but aren't close to dying, and a few which simply need disinfecting, salving, and bandaging. Dmitry's voice is quiet, "Whatever you have in you, I think you should be with Iason at the sides of the most grave."

Thorn is a bit fuzzy-headed; for all his military and EMT training, he's not yet been in a massive triage situation -- least of all one preceded by such violence. He nods shakily, "Y-yeah, I should... I think you're right. I... didn't even know." He shakes his head, and after they get their wounded person settled and out of danger, Thorn heads off to seek out Iason. Admittedly, the centaur is impossible to miss. He towers over most, even when he's down on his equine knees (Thorn notices he's wearing some sort of heavy kneepads on them) next to a patient with some fairly severe burns. Nikos is carefully holding the patient's head in his lap and Iason is applying some salve. The ancient healer's face is serious, but his eyes still seem gentle.

Thorn swallows, shaking a little; the adrenaline is starting to wear off. "Iason...?" he asks tentatively. He looks around; clearly this person needs the most attention, since no others are at death's door. He swallows again, then kneels opposite Iason and beside the patient. He places his hand gently on their arm where they aren't burned, and concentrates again. Was it a fluke? Was it just something that coincidence set up? Or did it in fact come from something he had called? He hopes so; he could be so much more helpful if so!

Back in the council chamber Sparrow is still talking to Cinnamon, "OK, sugar, your nature's fire: breathin' it, survivin' it, controllin' it. Now, I know you can do this 'cause I saw your Pawpaw do it coupla times. Tol' me it was like breathin' in the fire 'steada breathin' it out..." He points his snout at Killa, who is writhing and snapping his head side to side in pain -- and managing to splash white phosphorous all over the place as he does so, starting more and yet more small, whitely smoking fires!

Cinnamon nods a bit blankly at Sparrow, then glances over to where he's pointing. She winces slightly at the fires being spread, shocked at just how much fire there is -- and all over the room! "Oh my gosh, he's -- he's rolling in the fires he's making! Why -- but -- er, does he breath fire too?!" Then she blinks again, "Wait -- doesn't matter! Breath in, you said?" She turns her head, finding a small, nearby fire, and leans over to stare intently at it. She mutters, "Okay... here goes!" then takes a cautious breath. As she concentrates on the smoldering little patch of flame, breathing in deeply, she feels something that really is the opposite of breathing fire. Whereas breathing fire feels like it reaches into the core of herself and pours the fire out... this feels more as if she pulls that fire back into the core of herself. It takes a heartbeat or two, but it works! The visual is rather like watching film of a fire kindling, then blazing -- but played backwards.

Cinnamon sighs in relief -- then rears her head up and beams at Coyo- er, wait -- Sparrow, "It works!" She doesn't wait, though -- instead she darts to the next closest fire (careful not to step on Sparrow as she goes), and repeats the process again... and again... and again until all the really big fires are out. Sparrow has the nimbleness of a cat when it comes to not being stepped on by a dragon -- he seems to weave in and out around Cinnamon's clawed feet with no effort whatsoever! Fortunately there aren't too many fires left in the room that are up to the roaring and crackling stage -- except that one over there... which appears to be tangled in battle with... something else? "Oh my gosh, Sparrow! What is that?!"

Sparrow turns his head and gives a happy, howling laugh! "It's Jalil and Qadan! That sorry, mangy, sonnova... Qadan's gonna be sorry -- wind only feeds fire!" It does indeed look as if the whirling, writhing pillar of fire is intertwined with a stormy gray windspout. The two elementals are weaving madly about the room's upper half -- yet Jalil's trail leaves only smoke behind; it would seem his fire is the tightly controlled kind. But the longer the two combatants battle, the hotter the flames seem to get. From the crackling reds and oranges of a campfire the fire lightens to a bright, nearly eye-searing yellow -- then further up into a blue that looks almost cold, with white heat glowing at its center. Simultaneously, the tornado that is Qadan seems to be getting smaller and whirling less quickly.

In the foyer, Thorn lays his hand on the burn victim and concentrates on the magic, feeling it flow through him again. This time it's not quite as powerful as with the person that was on death's door, but it's enough to soothe some of the horrific damage. The three men standing around the patient watch third degree burns roll back to second degree, while one burn that looks like it goes down to bone... miraculously rolls back to 'merely' a third-degree burn. Iason murmurs something in Greek, then looks Thorn in the eye, "You have a blessing from the gods, Thorn."

Thorn's breathing is shaky, his eyes a bit glazed as he looks up at Iason, matching the healer's gaze... and the full enormity of the power and the colossal responsibility that now grips him finally hits him. His eyes damp, he says hoarsely, "I know. Please... please, teach me how to use it right."

Iason lays one bloody hand gently on Thorn's forehead and says, "I will do all I can to help you... and you will use it for good. For now, we will take care of our people that have fallen."

Thorn feels his shoulders sag with relief as he nods. For some reason he finds Iason's words terribly comforting. Yes, he will use it for good! "What... what should I do?"

Iason looks down at Thorn, then looks around the room. He motions to someone Nikos is leaning over, "We've only got three or four really badly wounded. Nikos will show you which. Do what you can -- and if you can't use your gift, use your hands. Working together halves the labor."

Thorn nods quickly to Iason, "I'll do what I can, for as long as I can." He goes to where Nikos is, determined to use his healing magic as often as he can, without exhausting himself. After that he'll use the skills he has, honed and improved under Iason's tutelage. He hopes, though, that using the healing magic won't incur a cost of some kind... but then realizes if there is a cost he must pay... then he will pay it gladly.

The next most wounded person -- the one Iason points Thorn to -- seems to have wounds that are almost gangrenous. Nikos is carefully pulling splinters of wood from them, brows drawn together as he mutters in a language that's definitely not English. Thorn winces as he studies the wound, noticing the wood splinters. He wonders briefly how the wound can be so gangrenous... then realizes the patient is either susceptible to wood -- Thorn worriedly checks to see if it's Elias -- or it's the nettle poison, and the patient is maybe a sidhe? The patient Nikos is helping turns out to be one of the beansidhe, actually. Not Aisling and not Shane, at least. Some of the wounds look burnt, but cauterized rather than the burn wounds Thorn just helped heal.

When Thorn glances around, he sees most of the faces of the wounded are vaguely familiar as people he's seen on Coblyn... but none of them seem to be the people that have become his friends. In fact, as he looks around he spots Shane and Josie helping move in more wounded. Elias, however, is nowhere to be seen -- which is possibly wise, considering that there really is an alarming amount of blood present. Thorn feels a twinge of shame in the relief he feels -- that none of his friends are amongst the wounded -- but that... makes it easier, if anything. He places a hand on the wounded sidhe's shoulder, urging their body to reject the poison -- to push it and the wood splinters out of their body -- just as he did with Jaeger not at all long ago. "I'm going to try something, Nikos," he whispers, adding, "Please work, please work, please work...."

Nikos looks up with disgust, "There was iron and wood in the bullets, and something on the wood..."

Thorn hisses softly. "It's a poison based on a kind of nettle that should be extinct. Not extinct enough, though...."

Niko's mobile, merry mouth thins down and he wrinkles his nose, "Poison. Please, do what you can." Thorn tries... then grimaces -- this time the magic just doesn't seem to want to work. He mouths, 'Dammit!' -- not wanting the patient to hear a healer curse in frustration. Then he tries a different tack: trying more closely to simply get the poison out of the person's system, then letting the healing take a more natural course.

Back in the nearly shattered council room, Cinnamon's brilliant eyes widen for a moment as she realizes who the whirling aerial combatants are -- then she growls firmly, "Well then, I won't be touching that fire -- Jalil can burn that nasty doodyhead Qadan all he wants!" She resolutely turns her back on the battle... then sighs, "Okay... Killa. Let me see if I can... jump to right by him, maybe, and get him to hold still long enough to pull the fire off of him too. Watch out, please, Sparrow?" She spreads her wings and crouches slightly, her long tail waving behind her, a bit like a cat's, as she readies her pounce... then leaps for the huge anaconda!

The leap isn't quite as graceful and well-aimed as Cinnamon might have liked. She gets near Killa, but actually lands on a railing near him, shattering it into splinters, along with a couple of overturned chairs. She unfortunately does not land next to the madly writhing serpentine councilor she was aiming for, though. Cinnamon hisses in mild exasperation, whirling in place to try again... then pauses, glancing up at the amazing pyrotechnics whirling above her. A bit worriedly she calls, "Sparrow? Do we, um... need to capture Qadan for anything?"

Sparrow looks up and laughs again, "Oh, I think Jalil's gonna wear 'im down where it ain't gonna be no problem, darlin'..." He nudges her, "Killa. 'Member?"

Cinnamon nods to Sparrow, already starting to prep for another pounce, "Don't worry! I haven't forgotten -- I just didn't know if we needed to ask Jalil to stop or something!" She takes a deep breath, narrows her eyes... and leaps again! While her leap doesn't cause as much damage this time, it's mostly because where she lands is already half burned down! She's again not close enough to the wildly gyrating Killa... and the giant anaconda is still spraying phosphorous around himself, starting up little fires here and there. Cinnamon snaps irritably, "Darnit! Killa, hold still -- we're trying to help you!" Sparrow shakes his head and mutters something about snakes not having the sense god gave a flea.

This time, Cinnamon growls frustratedly and spreads her wings -- she's just going to try landing on him instead of next to him -- some part of her will hopefully connect with the agonized serpent and allow her a moment to latch onto him and breathe in the fire... before he sets the entire room ablaze! Thank goodness he's not rolled over Aoi, at least. A heartbeat later she gives a startled yelp as she actually succeeds in sprawling -- somewhat inelegantly, but effectively, at least -- across Killa's length! That hastily turns into a quick gasp as she grabs on tightly with tail, wings, and all four paw-hands and -feet -- then inhales fire along as much of the serpentine form as she can quickly reach!

Killa isn't at all easy to subdue, even for a dragon! Anacondas are heavy, muscular snakes at their normal size. Gigantic as Killa is, it's taking Cinnamon's whole weight to hold him down. She doesn't even bother trying to pin him once she realizes that, though -- she's just struggling to hold on and ride out Killa's extremely wiggly writhings! Killa is certainly making no effort to stay still, either -- he's lashing and coiling wildly, shaking his broad head frantically from side to side. Anacondas, unlike many snakes, don't strike forward, but rather to the side -- meaning that the phosphorous he's spitting out sprays strongly on either side of him. The one blessing in this fiasco is that there are no 'squishies' left in the room; they've all fortunately been evacuated by now! All that's left here in the shattered council room are Cinnamon, Killa, and Sparrow... a pile of smoldering ash where Aoi was... and the spectacular and deadly battle between fire and air that's whirling crazily about overhead.

Cinnamon yelps occasionally when she's smashed around by the anaconda's wild thrashing, but keeps doing her best to remain entangled with Killa -- it's the strangest roller coaster ride she's ever experienced! As much as she can she also keeps inhaling fires from the anaconda... as they pour from his gaping jaws, when they tear out from his insides, and as they sear onto his skin from his rolling around. Frustratingly, he seems to have a knack for lighting himself up again when he thrashes across the scattered phosphorus patches still smoldering and smoking badly throughout the (incredibly damaged!) room.

Slowly though, little by little, Killa's internal burnings (as well as the fires he's rolling around in) are all gradually being put out by Cinnamon's breathing them in. Above their heads the battle continues raging, but as the djinn's fire goes from silver-blue to a searingly actinic white so hot that it is more a haze than a flame... there's an anguished shriek, followed by a heavy thud! The air of Qadan's powers has been entirely consumed by Jalil's furiously burning flames... which means the tngri is forced to revert to his humanoid form as he falls unconscious to the floor far below.

Nearby, to the battered, struggling dragon it seems to take a very long time -- perhaps because there's just so much fire and phosphorous burns so hot and so implacably -- but Killa's thrashing and bucking finally, slowly ceases. He doesn't go dead still, fortunately -- even a snake's breathing is visible -- but he does curl painfully into a shuddering, loose coil of agony. Next to him, Cinnamon sighs dizzily -- finally! She drags herself free from the anaconda's now-limp coils, taking a moment to shake out each limb and make sure everything's still working fine. Swallowing down the phosphorus from Killa felt like it took forever! She glances around slowly for Sparrow, relief tingeing her voice, "Got 'im, sir -- all fires out now!"

Sparrow sits nearby, grooming one of his front paws in a near-feline gesture. He looks faintly smug as he barks, "Good girl!" He glances toward where Qadan has fallen, watching as Jalil simply... steps down out of the air. One second there is white-hot fire; in the next instant there is only the almost placid form of the djinn... who reaches into his pocket and calmly puts his dark glasses back on. He looks down at the fallen tngri, with a dismissive sneer.

Back in the foyer, Thorn pauses and sits back on his heels when the magic doesn't work. No... this isn't right! It's not happening, it's not coming to him... he closes his eyes and takes another slow breath. Wait, pause, focus, concentrate... he has time. Nobody is going to die right away -- that was what the triage procedure was for, after all. He takes another breath, thinking, [Remember... remember what you did for Jaeger. Visualize it -- concentrate and visualize: sweep the poison out of them!] He takes a final slow breath, then pantomimes sweeping as he attempts again to draw the poison out of the patient's body. The breath, the relaxation, the memory of what he did and how it felt... finally something clicks for him. As Thorn's hands sweep along the body, the gangrenous-seeming wounds ease. They aren't healed, but they are now the red of simple wounds rather than a virulent, poisonous green-black.

Thorn is exhausted and spent. He doesn't think he can muster the concentration needed to cast the healing magic effectively anymore, except maybe for minor wounds and injuries that would be better to have natural healing take care of them anyway... but he can barely think even that. Still, if he can no longer concentrate for the magic, he can at least use his hands. Fortunately the worst is past; no others have passed on this evening. [Not exactly what I expected to happen,] he thinks tiredly. But then again, he's sure that was Qadan's plan: to catch everyone by surprise.

In the decimated council room, Cinnamon blinks as she notices Qadan, pacing over to the unconscious entity. Her claws make little ticking noises on the wooden floor as she goes to check him out, nudging him gently with her scaled nose, "Is he... ah, I see: just unconscious." She raises her head to look at Jalil, smiling tiredly, "Thank you, Jalil!" Smoke trails languidly from her mouth and nostrils.

Jalil nods and, in his almost musically accented voice, says, "It was my pleasure. The murderous dog."

As they're speaking, Diarmaid stumps over, carrying a very incongruous looking item in one broad hand: a pair of bolt cutters. The Fomorian's eyes gleam scarlet as he says in his basso voice, "The iron bands. We should take them off."

Simultaneously Cinnamon grimly adds, as she glares at the unconscious body, "Short version, guys? Qadan, Moustapha, and Killian and his get of the trod of the Holly... have ordered and financed the murders of Branigan, former chieftain of Rowan; my great grandfather Liam; and five folk of Elm... and tried to murder Jaeger first, then everyone of Elm... and then all of the Councilors and observers here." Jalil glowers at that, and Sparrow snorts. Cinnamon hisses angrily at Qadan's unconscious body... then blinks at Diarmaid, "Er... we should? How come? Are they magical?" She's happy to help the Fomorian however she can, though, even as she asks -- she picks up one of Qadan's bare feet and slides a claw under the band so the bolt cutters can reach around the iron.

The boar-headed guard rumbles, "They keep his power in his body, and they're disagreeable to the king. If we can get them off, he can be confined." Diarmaid doesn't even grunt as he snaps off the heavy iron bands... though of course, the Fomorians are feared for a reason. He adds, "We'll put him in the cells under the palace." Cinnamon nods interestedly as she watches and helps however she can... if nothing else, this gives her a moment to catch her breath!

As they watch, Sparrow changes. It's not the kind of bone-stretching, uncomfortable looking transformation that Josie undergoes, though. There's just a blur -- and where there was a coyote, there is now a man... who grins as he says, "Gonna have to say all that over again, sugar, where the rest of the council can hear it." Sparrow tilts his head in the appropriate direction as he adds, "An' somebody oughta sweep up Aoi." Diarmaid nods, then hefts Qadan up by the collar. He's not lifted the tngri off the ground, but simply has a good enough hold of the unconscious body to be able to drag it easily.

Cinnamon says firmly, "Oh, we will! We worked hard to track down all the data -- and we want to be sure everyone knows." Her triangular head swings around to stare at the Arabic fire elemental and the ancient American Indian spirit as she adds more quietly, "We also think Moustapha was responsible for the enormous turn-over rate in the 'hide' faction. Lark, Hilde's grandfather, Josie's father... we suspect he sort of emotionally 'nudged' them until they left." Watching Diarmaid drag Qadan out, she grimly adds, "All of the conspirators have a lot to answer for!" She blinks as something occurs to her, then calls after the Fomorian, "Excuse me, Diarmaid? Did you guys arrest Niamh successfully too?"

Diarmaid pauses and turns his large boar's head towards her, eyes gleaming scarlet, "Oh, aye. She was quite wroth -- tried to convince us of her innocence. His Majesty told her to stuff it... only more eloquently, hah! She'll be in the cell across from this one so they can glare at one another."

Cinnamon's tired smile widens toothily across her face, "Oh, that's awesome -- thank you so much!" As Diarmaid continues on out, she swivels her head to smile -- far less maliciously this time -- at Sparrow, "Thank you too, Sparrow. I didn't know I could do that thing with the fire, and I think it really helped."

Marcus was safe on Coblyn when the attack on the Trod of the Elm happened, and the trod had been peaceful for at least a century before that. The young elf councilor has never dealt with anything more violent than fencing practice before Cinnamon's first council meeting -- the one where she defended herself against Killa. Even Marcus had to admit it had been impressive -- and now... this.

Everything was chaos when the attack happened -- shockingly, extremely violent, with bullets, screaming, smoke, and fire everywhere. These are the first deaths Marcus has ever seen, up-close and personal. The normally self-possessed elf is shaken, but he calls on his political face so that he seems quite calm and collected even as he walks through the huge entry room that's serving as emergency care while the medics perform triage. Some of the minor wounded are being bandaged up and told to come to the infirmary tomorrow unless they're in intense pain or their wounds start showing signs of infection. Since infection is rare in supernaturals, there's not much chance that will happen -- except in the people who have been hit by the poisoned bullets.

Marcus' pale eyes scan the room and land on Spice, where she's helping mostly with cleaning and bandaging the minor wounds. Jaeger is with her. The elder elf's hands are bloody, as is his forehead, where he wiped one wrist across it to keep sweat out of his eyes. Marcus feels like he should thank Spice for saving his life, despite his pride being a little wounded due to his needing to be saved. Also, just perhaps, seeing how civilized he is will help change Jaeger's mind about Marcus being fit to woo the very useful and apparently sought-after Cinnamon.

The young councilor has enough wit to wait until Spice sits back on her heels for a moment, before approaching her. Marcus doesn't crouch, though -- it's just not in his nature. Instead, he settles to one knee beside Spice and takes one of her hands, "Lady, I must thank you for saving my life. To put someone's life ahead of yours when things were so dangerous is a true act of bravery. If I didn't know better, I would guess you yourself to be a dragon. Such grace, beauty, and courage..."

Spice looks a little bemused when Marcus takes her hand, but then her expression slowly changes to irritation -- and then to protective anger. Cinnamon isn't just her boss. The two of them have gotten close and loyal to one another in the last couple of weeks. Further, Spice has heard from both Josie and Shane about Marcus and his snobbery -- both about Cinnamon's appearance, and in regards to humans. She snatches her hand back, rubbing it on the leg of her jeans and snapping, "So, you'd like it better if the dragon was a 'pretty' girl?" She even does finger quotes around the word 'pretty' -- then adds, "I've got news for you, jackass -- it was that plain-jane dragon that saved your sorry ass back there! I just dragged you out of the fuckin' way because you were makin' it harder for her! So, you wanna get all Prince Charming and lovey-dovey over somebody? -it oughta be Cinnamon." Her lip curls up as she adds with scorn, "After all, I'm just a human. So you can fuck right off!"

Marcus is stunned, blue eyes wide at the vehemence. With his native (literally, in many ways) charm, he's rarely had his advances rebuffed -- much less rebuffed with such vitriol! Jaeger chuckles quietly and murmurs, "Well said, young woman." He looks up at his son and dryly adds, "This, boy, is exactly why it's going to be anyone but you. You're still looking only at the surfaces of things. Now, make yourself useful. People are still bleeding and in danger. Go." Marcus stands with much less grace than he knelt, back stiff with humiliation as he storms off to ask Iason and his medics where help is needed. Jaeger watches his son go with a chuckle and a shake of his head... then returns with Spice to their life-saving work.

Back in the Council chambers, Killa is still in his anaconda form, but it's limp except for quick rises and falls of his elongated chest. Cinnamon sighs gustily, smoke wreathing her head for a moment as she does so, and says to Jalil and Sparrow, "I guess we should see if anyone's available to bandage up Killa too." She pads heavily over to the great doorway that opens into the large foyer, then carefully ducks her head through it and looks around thoughtfully. She's keeping strictly focused on one thing at a time here... because as the fires went out, the smoke started to dissipate... and the bodies of the rather messily slaughtered mercenaries are starting to come into view. Cinnamon is quite sure she doesn't want to look too closely at those. Instead she scans for her friends -- she's worried about them all! -- and Iason, who is also a friend, but might need someone to pull fire from a wounded person.

The dragon's head is enormous compared to most of the folks in the room, and is carried a good 20 or so feet high... which makes it easy for her to scan the room. Perhaps unsurprisingly, there's a spate of yelps and fright when Cinnamon's head pokes through the door between the council chamber and the entryway/field hospital. The folks nearest the door start skittering back, which starts to crowd the people in the middle. It's starting to look like there might be a dangerous stampede across the injured. Cinnamon blinks at the yelps, glancing behind herself to see what's scaring them -- then blinking again as it registers: she's big now! She turns her head back and smiles as politely as she can, hastily covering her teeth when she remembers Elias' smile... then says, "It's okay! It's just me, Cinnamon. How can I help, please?"

Thorn is focusing on healing an injured -- fortunately not severely -- sidhe. Though he's finding himself increasingly exhausted, the worst of the injuries have been healed... which means he feels more comfortable using "traditional" medicine. He notices the startled yelps and looks up, blinking in surprise -- then has to stifle a giggle -- Cinnamon's head looks a bit comedic poking through the doorway! He knows he's in a bit of shock, of course; under normal circumstances he'd be terrified of the big dragon's head there. But then he realizes people are getting startled, so he calls out reassuringly, "It's all right! It's her -- Cinnamon! Don't panic!"

People are coming and going around Thorn. Some unobtrusively bringing the healers things like bandages and salves. Iason is picking his way with surprising delicacy and nimbleness between the injured, helping here and there whilst also keeping things organized. Thorn's call relaxes several of the people around him and the ripple effect goes backward as the word gets passed.

Cinnamon sighs in quiet relief as she eventually spots almost all her friends: there's Spice working with Jaeger, good... and over there Shane and Josie are helping people get moved around. Thorn's near Iason, good, and coming up on them is Marcus, looking pissed -- wonder why? Well, later -- and oh! Excellent -- there's Hilde with Nasteexo and Aisling! Hmm... no Elias, but Cinnamon can kind of see why he'd rather not be here currently. In fact, the one person she can't spot... is Dmitry, which... well, he does have that magical 'don't see me' pendant, right? Though... hmm, wonder if she can scent him? She sniffs experimentally. Then she blinks at another thought: is there anyone badly burned here? Maybe she can help with that, if so?

Shane comes trotting over from where he was helping get people comfortable and settled after being treated. His mom's a nurse, after all, and he's got a little idea of how to help even if he doesn't have medical expertise. He grins up at the dragon, "Think you can change back? It's a little crowded in here for a fantastical 20-foot dragon."

Cinnamon grins wryly down at Shane, "I... think so? But, um... not sure how I did it in the first place, so I really don't want to come back, like, naked or anything, you know? Oh!" She glances back into the other room, then adds to Shane, "Killa's still alive, but if there's anyone that's free to bandage him... um, that might help? He's got... holes..." Her reptilian nose wrinkles slightly as she tries not to remember just how horrific the damage was -- instead she adds hopefully, "Sparrow taught me how to eat fire, so I ate the fire out of Killa! Is there anyone here that needs that kind of help?"

Sparrow leans lazily against the dragon's shoulder and drawls, "He's probably right, darlin'..."

Shane blinks up at Cinnamon, impressed, "You learned to eat fire? Day um...!" He looks over his shoulder and calls to Thorn, "Anyone still smoldering?"

Cinnamon smiles down at Sparrow, "Who is?" She's... pretty sure he doesn't mean Killa...? She can't help beaming shyly at Shane's apparent admiration -- maybe she did okay! She sighs a bit as she looks around all the wounded, feeling faintly guilty that she wasn't able to protect them all, but... well, she did save a bunch, maybe?

Sparrow shakes his head, "I was talking about long, tall, and noble there. Might want to back up or change."

Cinnamon blinks confusedly at Sparrow, wondering who 'long, tall, and noble' is... she's long. Killa's long, but certainly not noble -- at least in her book! Wait, wait -- whoever it is can wait. She lowers her head under the doorjamb and carefully takes a few steps back... then cautiously settles herself flat on the floor in a sort of sphynx position. "Is this better?"

Sparrow grins and says, "I always did think snakes 'n cats had somethin' in common." Shane snorts at being 'long, tall, and noble.' It's something Sparrow has told him before.

Cinnamon grins uncertainly at Sparrow... then tilts her head to glance through the door. Hmm... no one has said anything about burns to her, so... she'll assume they don't need her that way. She can't help the small quirk of her reptilian mouth as she realizes no one's replying about Killa's burns either... well, no matter! She's done what she can. What else... ah! She glances around a bit wistfully, wondering if her messenger bag and her laptop were destroyed. Hopefully not, or she won't be able to get into her little house! Most of the back third of the room -- that is the portion that was behind Cinnamon and her sheltering wings -- is chaotic but not completely destroyed. The laptop is pretty shattered, but her bag is there.

Elsewhere, Iason's brow wrinkles when Cinnamon says Killa has 'holes.' This is the second massive burn the snake-demigod has had since the dragon arrived. He looks around for a couple of heavy-bodied folks. Fionn from the bank has arrived and there's another guard in Caradog's livery that is something like Diarmaid... except his head is that of a bull. Iason details them to pick up the heavy-bodied snake and bring him out to be looked at.

Thorn looks around, taking in a few breaths... he doesn't see anyone on fire or screaming. "I think nobody's on fire," he says to Cinnamon. "It could have been a lot worse. Thank you for what you did." He looks to Iason. "I'll go check on Killa, too?" he asks. Burning holes sounds about what he would expect from white phosphorous, as horrible as it is. There's a reason using willy-pete is against the Geneva conventions. [And yet weapon makers still find reasons for their buyers to carry them,] he thinks angrily.

Cinnamon sighs in relief again, hopping up to trot (heavily) over to pick up her bag... hm, feet-paws are busy with walking -- going to need to carry it in her mouth! Okay... this is going to take some getting used to, clearly. She says hopefully to the two large men, "Do you all need any help?"

Fionn pauses and then nods, "B�m�n is heavy, even for me and Duff." The bull-headed man snorts and agrees in a rumbling voice.

Sparrow reaches for Cinnamon's bag and puts it on the table, "It'll be safe there, darlin'. It's a little small for ya just now."

Cinnamon grins ruefully at Sparrow, "Yeah, I, uh... still getting used to that. Umm, though... could I ask you to maybe hold onto it, please? It's... got my keys in it?" Then she glances over at Fionn, her voice puzzled, "Boman?" She pads over to next to the unconscious snake and settles into the sphynx pose again, neatly folding and flattening down her wings, "Maybe... can you lay him over my back? I figure if we move him while he's still unconscious, that'd be best. We don't want him to strike at anyone out of being blinded by pain, you know?"

Sparrow nods and slings the messenger bag over his own body, settling it with the bag at the back. Fionn blushes and mutters, "Shouldn't call him an idiot, I know..." Even as he's speaking, he and Duff are lifting the enormous snake -- both with a grunt of effort -- and moving to drape him over Cinnamon's shoulders.

Cinnamon waits until the two very big men are ready and bracing the snake on her back -- one walking on each side of her -- then rises easily and pads cautiously into the next room. She's exquisitely careful with where she puts her clawed feet, moving slowly and checking visually to make sure she doesn't harm anyone as she almost tiptoes around the far edge of the big foyer to the sole remaining bit of space she can spot... for Killa to be placed. She asks hopefully, "How's that, guys?" and makes a mental note: ask Fionn later, not in public, what a boman is!

Cinnamon waits until the two giant men have eased Killa off her back, then looks around thoughtfully. She really needs to find a hidden place to try changing... so if her clothes aren't there when she's human, she can simply shift back to her draconic form. Doorway... maybe she can go back into the Council chambers? She should be able to get back into the council chamber pretty easily, especially since attention is outside right now.

Next to Thorn, Iason does his equine kneeling thing as he speaks quietly, "Have you dealt with phosphorous burns?"

Thorn looks up from Killa's ravaged body, his voice a little breathless as he says to Iason, "No, I haven't. Not... not like this, at least." He swallows. This is really bad, and he's surprised Killa is still alive after (from what Thorn can tell) having a willy-pete grenade shoved down his throat.

Iason nods and murmurs quietly, "I think you should still be the one to see to him. If any of us have a chance of speeding his healing, it's you."

Thorn swallows again, "Speed it? I'm surprised he didn't die from these wounds. But I'll try." He doesn't like Killa -- rather loathes the person, in fact. But he knows what Cinnamon did for the anaconda-god, and Killa needs to survive in order for Cinnamon's hard work to mean anything.

Iason chuckles tiredly. It's not a sound of mirth, "He would likely have to be burned to ash or his head separated from his body. Killa is old; he really is almost immortal."

The mage takes in a deep breath, slowly concentrating on the healing magicks and trying to envision what he wants Killa's body to do... before he commits to the magic. Fortunately the healing is good. Not enough to heal Killa completely, considering how much damage a phosphorous grenade causes -- especially one shoved down the victim's throat -- but Thorn is able to roll back enough of the wounding such that most of the holes showing bone (or worse) either shrink, or at least put some flesh between the huge snake's insides and the outside world. Cinnamon blinks down at the work Thorn is doing, and murmurs in an impressed tone of voice, "Wow, that's really cool, Thorny!"

Thorn lets out a deeply relieved breath -- he gave it the best he could! The results are better than expected. "He should pull through," he says tiredly. "Well... pull through faster, at least." He smiles up to Cinnamon. "I've you to thank for that, ultimately."

Cinnamon tilts her head curiously at Thorn, "How so?"

Thorn waves a hand, "Remember when you told me to visualize things? That's what I've been doing here: visualizing. So, thank you!"

Cinnamon brightens, "Really? It works well for you? Awesome! I'm so glad to hear that!" She raises a huge, clawed paw-hand to pat his arm -- then realizes that's probably not really a good idea just now! So instead she leans her head down and gives him a light tongue-flicker on the top of his head -- that shouldn't smoosh anyone! Thorn blinks, blushing slightly as he smiles at the... well, he can't call it a smooch, but it sure seems friendly! A heartbeat later, Cinnamon says a bit worriedly, "Oh!" She glances around, then leans to whisper to Thorn, "Have you seen Dmitry? I'm worried about him -- I hope he's not injured somewhere and can't be found!"

Thorn blinks, "I'm afraid I haven't, Cinnamon. I didn't seen him among the wounded. The last I saw him he was helping me bring someone in here." He doesn't go into detail regarding what Dmitry did at that point -- at least for now. That's Dmitry's story to tell.

Cinnamon thinks. "That was... after the attack? He was okay then?" She looks unhappy as she sighs, "Well... hopefully that means he's still okay then... but if you see him, please ask him for me to let me know he's okay?"

Thorn nods to Cinnamon, "I will, I promise!"

Now that the first rush of serious injuries have passed and the chaos has -- sort of -- settled, there's been an aisle cleared down the middle of the entryway. People are using it to get supplies in and get the less-injured out to make room for those that are needing serious attention still. Sparrow looks around the room, then points to the far side, starting to say, "He's of-" -- only to be interrupted by shouting and jostling at the big double-doors of Currier's Hall. Two of the healers are standing outside the door and trying to talk calmly and quietly to whoever's making that racket.

Cinnamon looks relieved, "Thanks, Thorn." She looks around as she mutters half to herself, "Okay now... someplace to try-" then blinks and glances over towards the noise.

Perhaps it's due to trying to follow Sparrow's pointing finger... or perhaps it's that there's still chaos around them in spots -- but all Thorn and Cinnamon can hear is a generalized ruckus at the door. From the accents, whoever is out there is from a Spanish-speaking area... until they both hear Nikos' crisp, no-nonsense voice, "This is a hospital. There are sick and wounded here! You will leave!" It's only then that a word cuts through all of it, in a tone of outrage: monstruo.

Cinnamon blinks, rising carefully to her feet. Her gaze is fixed on the door as she murmurs quietly, "'Scuse me, please, guys?" and she starts padding slowly and carefully through the room towards the door.

Thorn frowns, also looking at the front door. "Who the hell is that?!" he snaps -- and... are they actually calling Nikos a 'monster'?! 'Cause that's what it sounds like to him -- and he can hardly believe it!

Some of the other, more martial folk around the room -- Jaeger and Shane included -- are also starting toward the door, with grim looks on their faces. Both men are drawing swords, though where Jaeger's was before is a little hazy. Nikos continues speaking angrily, "You will not bring guns in here!"

Sparrow rolls his eyes and says, "Well, if my Spanish is right, it's Killa's dickless wonders comin' in to find their god and make sure he isn't harmed."

Thorn glances to Sparrow. "O they of little faith!" he quips. Sparrow grins at Thorn, very white teeth gleaming against his dark skin. It's a mischievous grin, but doesn't seem to hold the vaguely 'off' feeling that Moustapha's smiles always seemed to have.

Cinnamon sighs at that, muttering, "Wa-aaay too late!" She steps up behind Nikos, tilting her head down to glare at the ranting men as she growls, "Are these people bothering you, Nikos?" The daemon turns his head to tell Cinnamon what's going on -- and Killa's bully boys take that moment to try to bullrush past him. Cinnamon snaps sharply, "Oh, no, you don't!" and her wings snap out -- then forward, as she buffets all the men right back out the door they just came in! She adds quickly and quietly to Nikos, "Get behind me, please, in case they shoot?" The sudden -- to the upset men -- appearance of a dragon with a huge wingspan shocks them; they are easily herded back, though there are several more shouts of "Monstruo!" Many very large guns snap up towards Cinnamon -- as, for the second time in less than three hours, overly well-armed people aim weapons at her.

Thorn hisses softly, "Oh, for crap's sake!" He stands; this is, what, the third time Killa's boys have put their foot in it? Fourth? Should he be keeping score or something?

Sparrow chuckles and shakes his head, "They sure don't learn quick, do they?"

Cinnamon snaps irritably, "Oh, stop that! I am so sick of idiots with guns trying to throw their weight around!" She keeps her wings spread just in case, though, as she adds sharply to Daniella, "Do you really have so little control over your men that you can't get them to act like rational adults... in a hospital?!" By now Shane and Jaeger have come up on either side of the dragon... though to anyone that didn't know better, two men with swords might seem like a poor defense. Cinnamon glances down at the movement by her flanks... then brightens, "Oh! Hey, maybe if you two check them for weapons, we could let them come in to retrieve Killa?" She adds firmly, "But no guns!"

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Last modified: 2019-Jun-12 19:53:32

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