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Pathfinder-ish Campaign...

With the Itching and Rusting powders covered by Archie, who had both in much supply, Ohmen first seeks out several components. More specifically, Yellow sulfur and saltpeter, a hand-cask of each, and whilst doing so, he could pick up some Kief, a well-known spell reagent.

Eyes drifting from face to face, to building and sign the traveller continues upon mossy, well-trodden cobbles, now fully entered into the hum of the market, a hundred conversations spiralling around them.

After being eyed into the right direction by Wisdom, the clatter of coin against a somewhat charred, particularly worn counter ring out, their noise dulled by the inner workings of several nearby stalls and shops. And now clasping the two newly acquired supplies, Ohmen leans against a wall before dropping both cask’s into the unnatural well of his bag, the pair getting swallowed up and trapped behind layers of magic woven leather.

Walking deeper into the twisting corners of the market, where baked architecture now fights for space, each alley and corridor shifting into a maze, its every corner stuffed with goods. Most of which fight for attention with colourful fabrics or a certain sheen in the light. Despite that however, Wisdoms attention is brought to a pair of mundane looking Translucent cloth sleeves. Their surface is bland and uninteresting. Another useless piece of clothing amongst the mounds.. Or so one would think, but alas these were more than meets the eye.

A minute later 200 Golden Coins press against the flimsy counter with their weight presence. A few quiet words. the pair of cloth is in Ohmens hands. Now, with burning eyes and a twisted smile, the traveller slips them onto both wrists with open palms.

In but a flicker one can't help but notice as her cloak seemingly becomes larger, tracing along the floor behind as its colour turns to a soft sandy blend. Meanwhile sleeves warp to thin lacy silk, boots turning to Sandals, the kind any self-respecting person would wear in this somewhat arid and dry air.

With new clothing, new opportunities and ambition Ohmen heads toward some form of ‘Incense’ shop, lead toward it by a smokey scent before Picking up a pair of Smokesticks. Their surface sticky and begging to be ignited.
 
Tk'ya'pyk said:
{So in other words, yes.}

"Excellent. Before we continue, I should advise you that my assistance will not be cheap. For your initial lessons, I will require fifty gold crowns in payment (50gp). Do you wish to continue down this path? I can teach you to control Azaphor to some degree, and to unleash him in dire events, should you wish."
Click to expand...

Shiro walks into the room properly and sits down before Rasha.

“I would like this Rasha. I would like to receive this training lesson and now and return for more later if this is possible, I have friends and a mission that I cannot delay.”

He hands her the 50 gold.

“I will tell my friends that I will meet them where we are staying and then return for the lesson.”

Shiro goes to find Drakk or Ohmen, telling whichever he finds and then returns to Rasha for the lesson.
 
{Now, since I would like all of you to have a chance in heck of SURVIVING against the scro, we're going to do a little thing called 'DM's perogative,' also known as 'pre-emptive gaining of a level.' You are all level 5 now. Please adjust your characters accordingly. @Lizards of Renown (Shiro): your Magus feat for level 5 is now "Daemonhost," due to your training. This is part of why I am granting all of you level 5 early. Enjoy and be ready for soon you leave.}
 
Drakk raced through various stores buying some interesting things. All in all, he spent about 120 gold and bought:
A Carrier for Calabash
Scroll Organizer
Portable Reading Desk
Reading Lamp
4 Pouches of Caltrops
Alchemists Fire
Acid
10 bags of marbles
5 Moondew

After buying these things he met back up with Ohmen to wait on Shiro.
 
The dying rays of the setting sun cast their warm, orange hues over the Street of Wands. The rays lit crystal signs into shimmering fire, steel stands into flaming mirrors. The entire street glowed with a reddish-orange light, glancing off the green eyes of Shiro as, exhausted, he left the lair of the demonologist.

He felt a tiredness through his whole body, though in truth nothing but his own psyche had been taxed. Looking around, he smiled darkly to himself. The street was lit by the setting sun and in it's light... hell had come to the Street of Wands. He snorted. How appropriate he thought to himself.

Rasha had pushed him to his limits. Far past what he had been taught in the Eternal Order, he had learned not just to funnel the energies of the Demon inside... Well, Azaphor... He may as well start using it's proper name now. He had learned, surprisingly quickly, how Azaphor's... cage, if it could be called such.... could be moulded, funnelled, worn just as one would wear a suit of armour into battle.

The mantras that he had learned in the Eternal Order still served him well. The amount of power that could be harnessed was dangerously intoxicating. He had done his best to detect any fiendish presence in Rasah or controlling her and could find nothing. She seemed a genuine Master of Demonology and it was his good luck to locate this store at this time.

As he walked through the streets and the thinned crowds (considering the late afternoon hour), he found himself to be excited. Not by the prospect of power (for this had never had allure to him), but for what he could now do. With his new found friends, he felt that he could now really make a difference... starting with this Scro.

o0o

The people walking through the street almost unconsciously cleared the way for the tall man with the slanted eyes. There was something about him, a presence, a.... danger that they identified without even knowing it. Those who were more observant noted the piercing eyes and dedicated glare, but none were perceptive enough to notice a flicker of red deep in the iris of his eyes...
 
Shoving the handful of smoke sticks into the rustic and worn satchel by their side, the traveller glances at Wisdom, the Raven’s eyes lingering upon the smokesticks. .“Ssmoke… to choke the mind. Human’s never realise their reliance on vision, on sight until it is taken. Snatched away leaving them crawling.”

“Truer than most would like to admit Wisdom. I am sure they will be useful, useful indeed...Let's return to, return with Vincenzo and Arkhanides Such as they are named."

“There are the named, and there are the namelesss. I too do see them burning one day, until then.”

Giving a gentle nod, The traveller speaks. "Until then." before pacing forward, cloak fluttering in the wind in similar fashion to her hair. her path toward the guildhall, a purpose in her step."

-

Arriving in, Ohmen approaches the pair with a familiar face and even more familiar smile. Gentle and soft, just as her voice, yet a sense of seriousness and authority. Without words, just her presence, Ohmen reaches into their satchel pulling out two hand casks and placing them firmly down onto the table before Archie.

Clearing her throat, the traveller now reaches into another pocket, pulling out a small pouch, casting it over to Archie in a relaxed fashion, its contents jingling together with satisfying clinks. the gleam of gold leaking through worn leather. “Go, repay your debt. Then I will take the pair of you back to the ship.”

Standing up, Ohmen gestures for them both to follow. “Vince, We will get your first payment sorted once we are up and ready. So, Pack your stuff. Lets get this started. ”

“Now, a question for the both of you… You ever wondered whats above the clouds?”

Looking to the pair, Wisdom answers.. “Silence. Silence amongst the stars.”
 
On his way back to the Ship, Shiro realises that he is about to head into combat with his new friends... They deserved, finally, the truth...

o0o

Upon his arrival back at the ship, Shiro seeks out each member of the party and asks them to come to the central cabin on the ship. As each arrives, they notice a tension about Shiro, who stands with straightened back staring out of the glass covering the look-out from the bridge.

The rest of the party exchange glances and shrugs. No one really knows what this is about, aside from the fact that Shiro can sometimes seem excessively melodramatic Andrew borderline pompous with his posh speaking. Each member waits silently, except for Big Bang who has managed to find a bucket of nails and screws and is throwing it I to his mouth like a child with snacks attending a circus performance.

When Shiro turns however, there isn’t only sadness in his eyes.

“Before we go into battle, I must be honest with you all about my... affliction. It is a short tale, but is still best to start at the beginning...”

o0o

My name is Shiro and I am damned.‎
‎
I grew up in a remote citadel of the Eternal Order, the last remaining stronghold of the Elemental Paladins. So called because they do not worship a god but who work hand in glove with the enigmatic Law Elementals. These spirits bond with the Paladins to give them unique abilities and strength to help them in their quest to eradicate all evil from the land.

Maybe not the most entertaining childhood... But life hasn't exactly been a carnival since the Fall wh- What? Sorry, I was distracted.

I grew up in the stronghold, practising daily with all forms of martial weapons and combat. At night, I would practice with the elders, honing my mind for both the joining with an elemental and establishing an iron-hard willpower for confronting the darkness and evil therein.

Disaster struck on my last exercise before becoming a true paladin. A small cabal was uncovered in a local town and as a final test, I was sent with the strike force to eradicate it.

They knew we were coming. And we had no idea of how deep the roots of corruption had grown.

Our force was ambushed in an underground chamber, daemonic worshippers overwhelming our small strike force. Our leader was able to telepath a warning to the stronghold before he was cut down, but this is the last thing I saw before oblivion claimed me...

I woke in chains.

Blood dripping from every ring, I found myself slathered in the blood of innocents. An almost bestial and primal need to escape overcame me. Screaming in both defiance and horror, I strained my considerable strength against my bonds but it was for naught. Sacrificial knives carved arcane symbols into my flesh and decadent priests enacted a ritual to enable their daemon lord to possess me. Although my mind had been hardened to the effects of evil, the training I had received to be able to bond an elemental had opened a door in my mind.

They opened it to something else.

The Paladins of the Eternal Order arrived at the climax of the ritual, destroying all who stood before them. The head-priest uttered the last syllables of the ritual just as he was struck down.

But the Fates are fickle like any woman scorned.

Enough of the ritual had been completed that the Daemon Lord had purchase on my mind and soul. Even as my saviours unhooked me from the chains, molten lava seemed to flow through my veins and visions of suffering, death, pain and madness clouded my mind.

Thanks to my training and the incomplete ritual having given him only slight purchase upon my mind, I was able to contain him. Looking up into the eyes of the Paladin Elder before me, I saw fear, horror... then judgement.

I fled. Pursued by those who I once called brothers, I eacaped into the night.

I have travelled far since new this point. Almost so far and long that I cannot remember my homeland save in vague memories. I'll take any job as long as there is evil to be expunged, where my training as a Paladin in fighting fares me well.

Somehow, I have kept the Daemon Lord at bay. In all bar the clash and clamour of combat where my eyes glow red and I gain supernatural strength, speed and agility as the Daemonic presence in my mind delights in the savagery and blood. Even if that of evil.

Sometimes I think he is playing the long game. Walking me down a long path of corruption. I cannot be sure, but I must stay strong. The teachings of my family, my order still pulse deeply within me.

I must face the darkness. Even if it will consume me in the end.

o0o

Shiro turns back to face towards the distant horizon beyond the glass panes. “I could not rightly go into combat besides you all and not have you know the truth. I swear that I will use this force once and forever to combat evil. Even if Fallen, I will still protect.”

With that Shiro turns and climbs onto the top deck, to pray, practise and strengthen his mind.
 
Placing a hand on Shiro’s shoulder Ohmen speaks “You know shiro, I always suspected, Suspected something, and something is all. A crack in the crystal. Profaning the precious, the pure.”

“But now I see, The weights on your mind, they are crushing. Cursed.. Cursed like us all. Forced to face oblivion, told to accept it… Behind every man, there is that fire you speak of… Yours however, yours is beyond that… and when the dam breaks loose, when life flows, reckless and enraged.. We will see it. We will see it I am sure. And there you can turn it toward our Victory… embrace it, embrace it all, For once you are dead, you will long for torture.. To FEEL once more.”

Meanwhile whilst Ohmen speaks, Wisdom stares directly into Shiro’s eyes. The birds gaze searing through him with such intensity its almost painful.

“C-Carve away the numb flesh. Expose the Man Within.”

“Let it take the reins, give it no horse. Stare at the sun. “

“And though it hurts the eyes, is it not beautiful!”
 
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Drakk looks intrigued by Shiro's story before pulling him to the side after the crowd disperses. He shakes Shiro's hand and says "I appreciate the honesty, and I may be able to help. I am a practitioner of Divination, and while that gives me no control over Demons and the like, it can help me see if there will be issues involved. Perhaps I could help to make sure it does not overtake you. I could use my magic and read the stars to help prepare us for if it does start to surface."
 
Drew looks at Shiro with a combination of admiration and horror, Drew admired someone who would be honest with those he worked with. But Shiro's story was horrible. If Drew was honest with himself, he didn't know what to think. Drew agreed with Drakk about Shiro's honesty, but the issue was, Drew had just learned that his companion has a demon in his body. Drew just looked at Shiro in silence, nods warily to show there is no ill feelings, and walks back to his quarters to think this through.
 
Shiro accepts the messages and acknowledges those with revulsion.

"Thank you for the words. For the others, know that I would sooner take my own life then let this entity cause harm to friends or comrades.

"This I promise."

Shiro retires to the back of the ship for his mind-mantras, both satisfied and not. Both reactions to the truth are expected, in equal measure.

Running through the mantra in his mind, he watches the sun finish setting.

He would have to prove his trustworthiness.
 
Bang looks up from his most recent schematics as Shiro tells his story.
"Daemons huh? Too meshianx daemons are utterly foreign, they can't poses us so I have no clue how to respond to what i have heard." Bang pauses for a moment, looking more pensive then he ever has. His thoughts race through his mind, this isnt something he can easily fix by mauling or whacking together some new device. In an attempt to think better he picks up his schematics and hops up on Drew's head and continues his work.
 
In the meantime, Arkhanides and Vincenzo have made their way to the port. As they approach, you can see they are talking in an animated manner. Vincenzo is towing a small hand-cart piled high with equipment, while the gnome merely carries his own personal belongings. "So, dese scro, they are like-a da orcs, but not? Jus orcs with red skin? Dat makes-a no sense. Semantics!"

"No, no, there are deeper, more fundamental social differences. Scro are more militaristic, more organized. Unlike orcs, scro follow a more organized chain of command. Orcs will have a Chieftain, some under-chiefs or bosses or something, but scro will have equivalencies for sergeants, lieutenants, captains, and so forth! Of course, these are naval scro, not army, so more ship-type terminology will be used, but same idea."

"So you're saying dis is going to be-a little more tricky?"

"Might be, but scro aren't really good at setting watches and stuff. They think that kind of work is demeaning, so low-ranked scro or non-scro wind up with that job, whereas the higher-ranked scro form elite companies. Sometimes there will only be a handful of scro in an operation, the rest of the command being made up of subservient goblinoid or humanoid races. It depends on the group."

"I see. Mebbe we should think-a some kind-a plan before we go charging in. You said dey have ships, right?"

"Yeah."

"What if-a we commandeer one-a dem an' scuttle the rest?"

"Well, it'll work for a while, but I guarantee the scro will have at least one shipwright working with them. They always do, so eventually they'll be back. Then there's the issue with the kinds of ships they use. Mantis-class and Scorpion-class hulls aren't exactly subtle, and if you try to land such a ship in a port?"

"Ker-blammo?"

"Bingo. I like the idea of scuttling their fleet, but we'll need to scout it first and see if there's a hull we can salvage. Might want to just dose the helms in anti-magic water for the time being."

"Do we have enough? I thought-a we only had-a couple-a bottles of dat stuff?"

"Not really, and each bottle'll only stop a helm for about twenty minutes, so they're not that useful."

"Hokay, how-a bout we smoke dem out? Fill da ships wit something dey cannot stand?"

"They're goblinoids. Not a lot fits that bill, though I do recall scro being more, um, cultured than normal orcs, so that might turn them off for a bit."

"Hokay, not dat. Well, with-a da stuff you mixed up, we gotta'nuff gunpowder to take out a half-dozen ships if we use it right. I packed enough pot-charges to put a dent in their personnel, an I know you brought along a bunch-a bottles-a fire an' big-fire."

"I keep telling you, they're Alchemist's Fire, and Kirsanthian Fire."

"Fire an' big-fire. Same idea. Throw-a da potion, break-splash, flames everywhere. Good distraction!"

"Yes, yes, yes, but we need something more."

"Well, I brought-a long da auger and some wood-eater. If-a dem ships have keels, we can do some damage if someone can give us-a distraction-type thing."

"True, true. Plus we have coils of tripwire, caltrops..."

"Nah, caltrops are notta much good against orcs. Dem hobnailed boots dey wear, yah? Soles--a too thick for da caltrops to work."

"Oh, riiiight. Well, they're still good against goblins, and to slow the enemy down. Put enough caltrops into those boots and they'll still have to move slower or risk falling."

"True, true."

"I brought three glue-bombs, four grease-bombs, some tanglefoot bags, my staff-sling..."

"An-a you brought-a da healing potions, right?" When Archie paused, Vincenzo frowned. "Archie, we been over dis-a before. I don' care how good-a plan we got, you always bring-a da healing potions!"

"Yes, yes, I brought a dozen good ones and four of the big ones. That enough for you?"

"Should be, should be. Ooo, you got any of dem web-grenades?"

"Pfft, I wish! Couldn't get the ingredients!"

"Ah, bugger. How about da basics?"

"Flash powder, smoke-bombs, some acid bombs, dust of appearance just in case, some ghostbane, again just in case."

"How about stink-bombs?"

"Yeah, got some of them too. Figured we could drop them into their kitchen, maybe."

"Notta bad idea, but I was thinking-a someting-a little more unpleasant for dat."

"Wait, you brought the oil?"

"Ho yeah! Whole bottle of it!"

"You sure that's a good idea?"

"Not really, but if-a we can get da bottle into their beer or someting, we should-a be able to put some of dem to sleep with it..."
 
Walking up to the deck, Ohmen gazes out with a heavy breath. Listening to the commotion below whilst reflecting on the week's exertions. Behind those innocent, youthful eyes, One can see many a thought as Ohmen turns to Wisdom.

“The sun is yet to set Ohmen… take this a last chance to steel oneself against the coming horrors, coming bloodshed.”

“There will be much to pay in these coming weeks and months. Whether we pay with blood, words or gold all the same I am sure… But I do have to wonder if we march only to ruin."

“Life trudges forward oblivious and stubborn.” The raven turns to him in reply, speaking with a crooked tongue and curious eye. Before Whispering under its breath in unsettling fashion..“Deer before the Forest Fire.”

“fate will tell If we are but ants marching toward a spider’s web or if we can become as steel, as one at the press of twilight, when even the sun flees.”

“There is more you can do. Never sit back and put yourself in fate's hands.”

“I never planned too. Let's go.”

Quick to get up, Ohmen flings his cloak into motion, its silken surface filtering through a dying light, Wisdom speaking one last time before fluttering in pursuit.

“Just know one thing. Gold, Gold is worth nothing at the bottom of the sea.”

---

Peering into the dim light of the cargo hold, Ohmen approaches the pair of mercenaries. She has a tired smile on her face and a friendly expression, tapping the barrel of ale to her side to get the pair's attention. “Now that the pair of you are set up, let's get a glass of ale down you both, and then we can talk through some things.”

With a notion to follow and sit, the traveller leads them up to the central table. “Alright, before we really get started, you should first know a few things. Oh.. and you can call me.. Ayl--,

As she starts to speak she notices Wisdom perching on the chair beside, the raven beginning to talk in a slightly hushed yet strange voice. Almost as if the bird was recalling a story as its voice fades into the background.

“She’s Just a traveller, fueled by youthful wanderlust, youthful ignorance. Ayleth is the name. Wandering far from home where her mind still lies. When first introduced to Spelljamming by a travelling merchant, She did everything she could to get hold of the opportunity… And now, despite finding herself wanting to return to a humble, simple life, she knows that there is still much to prove to oneself and family alike.”

Holding up a hand as if to signal Wisdom to stop, a sign the bird disregards, Ohmen speaks. “Scratch that.. Just call me, call me Ohmen.”

In that last sentence the traveller's speech holds a bit more weight, slowing down with a slight shudder before she takes a deep breath and moves on.

“Anyway, you’ll both want to take a quick look at this.” she nonchalantly slides forward a piece of parchment

“Charter of service is all. They like to call us ‘Maxim 37’ or whatever the hell these lads have named us." With a finger Ohmen highlights article two. “You both have payment handled differently, but take a quick read of article one and two for me, thats all.”

Giving a few moments, she rubs her hands together. “Now that's out the way, What do you both actually have in your inventory? For us, well we are rocking a decent amount of oil n rope, the usual stuff and not too much else.”

“As of now, well, we know as much about the Scro as you do.. Information about them has been pretty hard to come across... We do however have a plan, one I will fill you both in with once we are up in the air."

"At any rate though, I'm going to head back into the city and buy any last preparations. Perhaps a few maps and books too. let me know if there is anything more I can pick up for you both.”
 
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"Maxim 37? I don't think the Guild is up to 37 yet."

"Ey-yeah, dis-a is kind-a, well, awkward," Vincenzo mutters. "Dat's what da Guild calls bylaws inna da code..."

"As for our equipment, that is none of your concern."

Nodding, Vincenzo continues, a smile on his face. "Don't getta me - us - wrong, we'd be happy ta talk shop an' all, but it would, how do you say..."

"Listing all the crap we're carrying would take a few days. Between the two of us, we're carrying two hundred different kinds of potions!"

"Yeah, anna dat's just da stuff dat doesn't have-a gunpowder innit!"
 
Thinking for a moment, Vincenzo shrugs and glances at the stuff on the hand-cart. "I mean, we can list-a da non-magic stuff! Got some pot grenades, couple-a barrels of number six powder, lots-a fuze line so we can set tings off from a distance..."

"That's kind of important."

"Yes. Three spools-a trip wire, silk rope, a bag of marbles..."

"and two bags of caltrops..."

"Yes, dem too. One-a dem whistles dat annoys dogs..."

"And wolves, and wargs..."

"Oh yes, dem too. You'd-a be surprised how useful dat is! A listening cone, a bottle of... um... actually I probably shouldna talk about dat..."

"Um, yeah, at least not until we leave Kithmali..."

"Yeah, dat might be a good idea. Tindertwigs, my trap-setting kit, a small folding handsaw, little wood wedges, some metal spikes, a hammer, paperclips - big ones..."

"You know, office supplies!" the gnome finished with a grin.
 
Giving a slight smile, Ohmen leans in as Vincenzo steps back from his words, firing off a short list of items, most of which Ohmen had heard of, others he had experienced first hand, whether for the better or the worse.

“Good, good. All of this is will be useful once we are in the thick of things... It's better to get an idea, a list of what there is to work with before the situation escalates. Decisions and preparation now, blood later or so they say.”

Giving a friendly shrug, the traveller crosses her legs and leans back.

“Well that and we should really know if you both are carrying something, anything that could be well, be considered prohibited. We want this kind of problem as much as you do, hell, the last time we had the smallest thing the whole ship got searched.. Not that we have anything to hide, of course, just a hassle and a half... And with my curious mind, I can’t help but wonder what those cask’s I picked up are goin' towards.”

“Weapons of ruin, weapons of war. Behind it all a strong arm and tempered steel.”
 
"Ah, yes, we do have something like that," Archie says quietly, "but we don't have a lot of it. The stuff is hard to get, as we have to gather it in an area that's magic-dead and full of monsters..."

{Well, since nobody else posted anything, and I DID warn y'all, time to get this show on the road!}

Clearing your departure with the Harbormaster only takes a few minutes, and then your ship, Payback, is lifting up from the docks and into the sky. Vincenzo is holding the rain in a death-grip as he stares at the ground falling away below, with Arkhanides laughing softly at his discomfort.

"Ho yeah, anna I'll bet you didn't do da same thing when-a you first did dis!" he mutters, glaring daggers at his supposed friend.

"Oh, I did, and blew chunks over the railing as well!" the gnome shoots back.

"Ugh, don' mention-a food to me right now, Archie," Vinnie replies as he turns his attention back to the planet below. "Is kind-a pretty, don' get me wrong, but dis whole thing kind-a makes my stomach lurch..."

As you proceed, Vincenzo and Arkhanides set up shop in the back of the cargo hold and proceed to go through and prep their equipment for the coming challenge. Apparently both specialists are carrying a variety of gear inside at least one bag of holding or portable hole, as there is no way all of that crap could have fit on the hand-cart!

Really, the tricky part of this is following the directions the Speaker gave you on that map. What with the map taking up a sizable chunk of the helm-room when it is unrolled, trying to read and follow it is a little tricky. It takes a few days as you travel, but Drakk manages to puzzle out a few 'landmarks' in the asteroid belt that make tracking down your destination much simpler. After about a week of travel with no incidents, you arrive at an otherwise unmarked asteroid amidst the belt.

But something isn't right. You expected a pile of ships, a bunch of scro, orcs, and such, and some kind of encampment. What you got is a medium-sized asteroid with a pair of large caverns that are apparently being used as repair docks and a resupply station for the scro! There are a grand whopping two ships on the asteroid. One looks like the scorpion-ship you beat the stuffing out of, slowly being repaired and refitted. The other, a second scorpion-ship pattern hull, is loading supplies on board and prepping to set out. Other than the crew of the two ships, there aren't a lot of... well... anyone present. A quick scouting mission by Bigbang reveals about sixteen goblins and orcs, with a single scro as the supply base commander.

Vincenzo frowns as he looks at you across the table in the mess. "Something doesna feel right about dis place," he mutters. "I don' think this is-a da base you're looking for! Mebbe you should follow da ship dat's about to leave? Dey might be heading to da real base. Or not, I dunno. Might be headin' out onna raid. If its da former, you find da base, and we can blow it up, no? If it is da latter, well, mebbe we can stop dem from making more of a mess?"
 
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