~Status~
Theme: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IkamgZq-wT8
Location: Kefka - Shadow Clan Base
Time: Two Days after DMC War: Lete River
~Status~

"... Thus concludes my report."

The analyst bowed low again, and remained there. He stood before a man (a Nu Mou, judging by his stature, as his face could not be seen) in heavy black robes, who sat upon a throne which, in turn, was raised up upon a dais. There was a moment, as the figure considered his options.

"... Were there any casualties on our side?"
"None lasting, my lord."
"... And of LeCruset?"
"Nothing, sir, since his attack on the Mako outside of Mobliz two weeks ago."

The ruler lowered his head slightly, "... I see."

The door at the far end of the room opened, and a bangaa stepped through, some orderly or another. The Nu Mou on the throne lifted his head, "Yes, what is it?"
"I appologise, my lord, but an urgent message from Corneria."
"Let him come in."

The first messenger bowed a bit lower, before stepping aside to allow the new one to enter, who bowed, "My lord, I must thank you for-"
"If your message is truely that urgent, tell it to me."
"Y-yes sir. Our man in Dollet reports that your spy has successfully boarded the Tiger, as ordered. H-however, he warns that the fleet armed with PAL left ahead of schedule, and will be at Figaro in three days. He also reports that Edward Coultier has become involved."
"Noted. Go to the dockyards and ready my ship."
A deep bow, and the man left. The ruler turned to the first messenger, "Make me a reservation to eat at Outer Haven."
"Sir?"
"It is about time I paid Mr. LeCruset a personal visit."
"... A-a-as you wish, sir. How many will eat with you?"
"... Four."
"Yes sir."

That man left, and the ruler stood, shouting to one of the functionaries in the hall, "Bring me Moomba and Scratch!"
"Yes, My Lord!"

The man sat down again, but the movement, the first in many days, was noteworthy.

The two moogles in question were shoved into the room by the same bangaa -- rather forcefully, to be honest. Getting up from their fall, they approached the throne and bowed.

"You wished to see us, my lord, kupo?" inquired Scratch, a hint of fear evident in his tone.

"I want your report on the battle at Lete. You organized the defense, did you not?"

The man's voice was dark, cold, and yet, somehow unreadible.

"Yes, sir, kupo," answered Moomba. "They were definitely aligned with Dollet. The group that engaged us was headed by a paladin -- according to the troops we captured, his name is Dominic Kindheart, kupo."

Scratch continued, "We managed to knock him over the side of our vessel, where the enemy fighter caught him and headed back towards Balamb, my lord, kupo."

A gloved hand met the man's face, perhaps to rest near his mouth, "... That would fit with our reports from within Dollet..."

"My Lord." A deep, deep bow, almost kneeling.
"What is it? Did you get those reservations?"
"Sir. You dine this evening, but I could only get six seats, not five."
"Excellent." the man lowered his hand, "... Why are you still here?"
A deeper bow, and the man hustled off.

The ruler rose, staring down at the two moogles, "You two like to eat, right?"

Both moogles were shocked by the question.

"Y-yes, sir, kupo!" answered Moomba after some slight hesitation.

"Good! Attack the Victoria Estate in Corneria." He withdrew a scroll from his robe, "Kill anyone you find there but the man on that scroll; capture him. If he's back here by supper-time you two will join me."

A fashionably-dressed man stepped out of a side room silently, offering a low bow. Cluny ignored him for now, "Well? Get on with it! And make sure that lazy-ass messenger made it to the shipyard!"

"Y-yes, my lord!" exclaimed Scratch. Taking the scroll, he and Moomba exited the room and headed to the armory. They needed to restock their ammunition and the like for the upcoming battle.

The ruler watched the men leave, sitting down yet again as the newcomer approached. The man wore chains, it could be seen now. Chains of magicite.

"I take it you have considered my offer?" The ruler rose, gesturing subtly for his guards to approach the man.

Tetran and Dascar did so; the former held his Gae Bolg at the ready while the latter had one hand on his scythe's hilt.

The man, a human, nodded, "Yeah."
"... Choose your next words carefully."
"I have. Lo says go to hell."

The ruler did not react violently, though he did signal for the man to be restrained, "Kursk... I'm not really giving you a choice..."

The two guards each held the man down, effectively preventing escape.

The ruler approached the musician, who glared up defiantly, "We fought too hard against you in the Figaro War."
"Yes, and the pair of you were one of very few who didn't seem to get the message... I don't intend to lose."

He paced around to stand behind the man, "Vyse Kursk... legendary master of the Gunshield and the Gunblade... husband of... Persiphone? Hmm, I bet Locke didn't like finding out about that one."
"He moved on." Vyse glowered, "What's your point?"
"It would be terrible if you failed to protect her, wouldn't it? Locke would be so disappointed in you."
"We have no enemies."
"Trust me."

A furious crackle of energy lit the room, teasing a scream of great pain out of the musician as the energy coursed through his spine. The ruler eventually relented, withdrawing his hand.

"You have enemies, most definitely." He turned to Dascar, "Tetran and I are sufficient. Go get Mrs. Kursk from her cell."
"No!"
"Oh, that struck a nerve." A dark chuckle, "... Are you ready to deal, Vyse?"
"... I'll... I'll deal."
"Good. Take this man and get him cleaned up. He'll be joining us for supper tonight, as well. As will you two, of course."

"Yesss, my lord," came Tetran's reply as the two rose. He helped Vyse up.

"Now then, let'sss get you prepared."

Vyse would give little resistance as he was led away, and the Lord would return to his seat, thinking.

... Coultier is involved. That complicates things remarkably... for him. I'll crush him like a bug. Crush the bastard that betrayed me not once, but twice.

---Later...---

Tetran returned to the throne room, with Scratch, Moomba, and Doctor Crantz in tow.

"Objective complete, kupo," proclaimed the Juggler as the former three bowed.

"Brilliant." Cluny was reading from a large tome at the moment, "Doctor Crantz."
"My Lord."
"You left me six months before the operations at Corneria began. Why?"
"I got a better offer."
Cluny looked up, then back to the page, "Take him away and go get dressed for supper. Meet me in the lobby in fifteen minutes."

"Yes, my lord, kupo!" exclaimed both moogles in unison. Tetran took hold of Crantz's restraints, being the strongest of the three, and they left.

And in fifteen minutes, the moogles, Tetran, and Dascar were in the lobby (the latter keeping tabs on Doctor Crantz).

And so, the Lord would wait for his people at the Lobby. Oddly enough Vyse was the first to join him, alone and grouchy.

"You'd do well to smile once in a while."
"You've got my daughter and my wife for hostages. If I'm smiling it's because I'm watching you draw your last, painful breath."
"A beautiful image. A shame that I fully intend to outlive you."

...

The four plus Crantz walked over to Golbez, who was apparently waiting across the lobby from them, and bowed. >_>

"Let's go, then!"

~Outer Haven~
Theme: Iron Chef (JP) Opening Theme

"A new message from Beta Gamma, sir."
"From Lord Bän?"
"No sir, from Lady Putros. She wishes to request a shipment of foodstuffs."
"Odd thing for Lady Putros to want. She must have found some friends. Very well; arrange it, would you?"

Locke had just been turning to leave, when a voice made him freeze in the doorway, "Hold it. Where do you think you're going?"
The chef turned slowly. His gaze was strangely ice-cold, stance more regal than even the lord who had just entered. A true product of his breeding, and of his truly unusual stance as the most famous of the LeCruset bloodline and their powerful Acumen's Legacy. He said nothing, and the lord spoke again.
"It is customary to bow before your lord and master, is it not?"
"So it is." Locke replied, plainly and coldly. His matre'd, who had bowed, glanced sidelong at the chef uncomfortably.

Locke turned on his heel, and walked out, "However, if you expect to eat, you had best let me return to work, lest there is nothing in the kitchen for you!"

The Lord would fix Daskar with a glare, and gesture calmly for the man to approach him as the others let attendants take their coats.

Saying nothing, Dascar approached his master without hesitation. Tetran retained his hold on Doctor Crantz, allowing his coat to be taken on the grounds that the pockets be left alone. Scratch and Moomba followed suit.

The group would soon be seated, Dascar's message being exchanged openly as they walked, "If he tries anything his corpse is dead before it hits the ground."

Locke could be similarly heard instructing their waiter personally, "If they insist on plotting behind my back I'll gladly go back to doing the same."
A smile to Vyse as he returned to the open kitchen in the middle of the room, "How's Percy?"
"Situation normal. She's with her aunt."
Locke nodded, setting to work. His knifework was particularly accurate, "Seven soups to Table Fifty."
"Yes chef!"

~Soup Course Start: Roasted Garden Vegetable Soup~

Crantz was the first to taste the soup, nodding to himself, "It's good, thank you."

The two moogles also murmured their pleasure with the soup. Dascar made no comment on its flavor, while Tetran asserted that it needed less vegetables and more meat.

Locke smirked a bit, letting the blade spin in his hand as he set it down. He held his hand out behind the small of his back for just an instant to catch a tomato which he threw back into the air in front of him. The knife left the counter in a hurry, reducing the tomotoe to a medium dice, which touched surface for the first time, completed, in his bowl. This in unison with his sous chef and a prep staging cook.

The message was clear. I know what I'm doing, and I'm good with knives.

Vyse smiled a little, "You know, Cluny, this was the soup we had for supper that night in Kefka."
Cluny frowned, as the image of a ship, already hanging low over the city, exploded in a great fireball, "Odd, I heard more civilians died in that attack than Shadow Clanners."
"Funny, I'd heard that was a Shadow Clan statistic."
Two soups remained with nobody to eat them, at places set for people who were absent from the table. Cluny noticed this, and kept and eye on the door.

Dascar eyeballed the door as well, picking up on the seating arrangement as well.

Moomba witnessed Locke's tomato trick and clapped, oblivious to the implications the knife might have later on.

Locke flashed a thumbs up, moving the bowl to a shelf after adding eggs. Someone else took it, to do something else, leaving the nice in place. He pulled a frying pan from a rack, splashing a bit of melted butter in.

"Hanson, are those plates ready?"
"Yes chef, just waiting on the Foie Gras."
Cluny frowned. How was it that this man was getting Foie Gras when he himself had banned the use of organ meats?

This question was ignored as the Maitre' D' returned, "Lord Cluny, I present Captain Edward Coultier, Captain Alexis Coultier, and Frau Deborah LeCruset."

The newcomers bow. Edward sat flanked by the others, perfectly opposite of Cluny, with Frau to his right and Alexis to his left.

"Captain. Strange, I thought you were exiled from Figaro on pain of depth."
Edward looked up, to Vyse, speaking an old dialect of Midgaric Common.
Vyse smirked, and nodded, to which Ed replied for Cluny, "The Outer Haven is exactly that, a Haven. It has nothing to do with Figaro."
"I own all within its borders."
"No, unfortunately, you do not." A disarming smile from Locke, "In order to own something, you must be able to exert authority. I present to you your salad course: Foie Gras en Croute."

Consisting of sauteed foie gras on a soft crouton with garlic and what might have been apple butter. Locke bowed slightly, personally setting Edward's plate himself.

"Enjoy. Captain, our arrangement for entertainment still stands, does it not?"
"Oh yes. Just as soon as the salad is over; before the appetizers. Give the guests a bit of time to let their food settle."
A smile, from the chef, who patted the other's shoulder, returning to his kitchen, and to that knife.

Tetran, seeing this new meat, tried the salad. He mulled the flavor over for a moment before nodding in approval.

Dascar made no indication of his pleasure or displeasure, while Scratch and Moomba again voiced their content.

And they again would earn thumbs-up from Locke.

Cluny, on the other hand, would tap Tetran's shoulder, gesturing across the room, where a young man in what appeared to be full combat gear sat, drinking tea. He wore a tabbard: a brown chevron across a green background. To judge by the mask across his face and the swords at his side, he was an assassin.

And just so happened to be a perfect hit for the terrorist "Sir Paris".

The Bangaa took a look at the assassin from where he sat, and saw the resemblance. He then cast a glance sideways at Cluny, as if asking "What should I do about him, my lord?"

Cluny gave a simple gesture across his throat.

Tetran nodded, then rose from his seat, moving toward the assassin, one hand ready to draw his Gae Bolg.

Paris, equal to this, smirked slightly. He got up, removing a bundle wrapped in cloth from under his tabard, which, with an expert toss, he threw.

It landed directly in the oven, producing a thick cloud of purple smoke which was sucked up the hood system, and a very angry Locke, who glared around, looking for the culprit.

"Hey! You two get out, now!"

~~

Ah, that's the signal. Nicely done, Paris.

The Knight lowered his gaze from the sky, returning it to the city square, below. He was up on one of the levels of the treetop city used for airship docking, and from here he could see as a dozen or so men in cloaks break away from their business dealings. Even as they walked, the men shed their cloaks.

All revealing tabards almost identical to that worn by Sir Paris. Only one man walked among the group without a tabard.

It's in your hands now, London.

The group advanced on the Shadow Clan's administrative building, and the knight rose, dropping down a level to land rather loudly on the deck of his own ship, "Start the engines."
"Yes, Lord Izumi."

"With pleasssure. It'll allow me to put thisss guy in hisss place."

That said, Tetran walked out the door, keeping his gaze fixed on where he'd last seen the assassin.

The Assassin didn't wander far.

~*~

Abruptly, the doors of the building would be crashed inward by the onrushing force, startled guards making easy targets for Lodon's bow.

The lightning spear was now pointed directly at the man's throat.

"Lord Cluny Ssscarmork hasss ordered me to end you. Don't think you can weasssel out of it, either; we know your identity."

---

The startled guards only had time to call out the names "Lady Sarina" and "Master Agnab" before falling.

The assassin kept his hands low, resting on the hilt of his twin Katanas, "You know only the identity I have shown you. Nobody knows my real name or identity but Lord Izumi."

Considering Tetran, the assassin was remarkably calm, "And in any case, my reptillian friend... you pose no threat to me."

~*~

London's little strike force continued to move through the building, heading down to the cells.

(I guess MZ isn't RPing, then.)

"Think what you will."

Tetran muttered a few words under his breath, and suddenly began moving faster as he lunged at the man.

---

The force was abruptly surrounded by two other forces, one led by a Viera woman with an Oriental-type blade, and the other by an armored Bangaa with a ridiculously large broadsword.

"So, you thought you could just storm the Shadow Clan's base, huh?" inquired the Viera. "Well, we don't take kindly to that sort of behavior!"

The group skidded to a halt, with London smirking slightly under his hat, Outmaneuvered.

"I commend you for your quick response, majesty, but clearly you aren't aware of just who I am."

Interesting formation. Okay, plan get. "Soldiers, form a flying wedge!"

They formed the classic formation almost instantly, and pushed for the northern gap between the enemies two formations, with no cover fire, ducking behind their shields. London lagged slightly behind the rest of the group, knocking an arrow in case he needed it.

Lordship Battle Theme: Force Your Way! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SneYMN66cEs)

~*~

The assassin bounded into the air over the bangaa, up to the next level of the city.

"Up here, lizard!"

Knighted Page Battle Theme: The Man with the Machine Gun (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a2vpqd9gKXk&feature=related)