What we need more of is science. wait. no. paladins.

[jossed]

[Last thing she remembers is being in a bunker in Icecrown with Major Lightwalker talking her ear off like he was a giddy little schoolgirl, and wasn't that charming. She'd shovel a lot of Nieodemus' emotional shit if it meant she kept getting to sleep in the officers' quarters, because they were a bit less cold than what most of the Ashen Verdict

Comments

[nashrath]

Oh. Awesome.

[She begins rattling off facts in a bored tone.]

Hello and welcome to the Prison of Time where unlucky saps like you end up and never leave. Don't go outside, the food is rationed, don't taunt the supervillains. I'm Nashrath, feel free not to talk to me if you have any questions.

[jossed]

[Oh hey, a bald (?) snarky orc shaman. This she can handle! Everything said shaman is actually saying to her, not so much!]
… Prison of Time?
[Joss just blinks once or twice at this.]

[nashrath]

You are in the Caverns of Time. Right now. That's where you are. You can't get out. Live with it.

[This is said in about the same tone, but a little more condescending.]

[jossed]

But I didn't do anything!
[She sounds like she's about twelve years old at this point.]

I mean - I don't get why they're interested.

[nashrath]

Nobody did. As far as we can tell, it's random who ends up here. We got Thrall

[The tone of voice suggests there should be a choir of angels backing her up on that name]

and the Lich King too, plus a bunch of people nobody cares about like you and that guy.

[She indicates the twitching Death Knight in the corner.]

He's a dick. Dunno about you.

[jossed]

Where're the custodians?

[Hey, she speaks orcish rather like a Lordaeranian too, as if she hasn't been studying that long. Alternately Joss smiles and glowers at the mention of the Warchief and the Lich King, gaze flicking toward the death knight perched in the corner.

She actually smiles at the Knight of the Ebon Blade, with all the indulgent warmth most paladins reserve for their own, or for priests. Nashrath's assessment of his character falls on deaf ears: she'll be the judge of that, to be sure.]

Too soon to tell, yeah? Hopefully not.

[nashrath]

[Yeah, we saw that look.]

No, I mean it.

[Her grip on her mace tightens at the mention of the DK.]

He's a killer. I gave him a chance - blah blah the Light redeems, I know. Not that one.

[Change the subject prz.]

Yeah, I don't care that much, everyone's a dick on the inside. Where it counts.

[Isn't that heartwarming?]

[jossed]

If'n you say so.

[She is totally not buying what Nashrath is selling; Joss doesn't really believe in irredeemable souls. Also, she clearly has rose colored glasses when she's talking about death knights, if that look didn't already blow her in.]

But seriously, if this is the Caverns of Time - an' I buy that, I guess - where're the Bronze?

[nashrath]

Excellent question.

[YES, BRONZE. WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?]

They LEFT. Just picked up and vanished one day, left us to conjure our own food and deal with this goddamn storm outside which NEVER stops and flood the basement every two days and we still can't get out. We WOULD be dead if Tryice and Kan'jin weren't conjuring food and purifying the water. We would.

[jossed]

[Whoa, girl, don't pop a blood vessel. Or bloodlust, either, although girl-orcs going rawrawrawr is kind of an adorable mental image, if totally patronizing. Joss looks about two seconds away from a reassuring pat.]

They left? [She kind of gapes for a second. Dragons hurt her head!]

Well, of course the jailors can leave. [Are we bitter? Already?] … Y'know, I'm an engineer, I might be able to make some kinda pump to help out with the flooding.

[nashrath]

[Stare. Point.]

I like you. Come with me.

[She elbows through the crowd and vaults the bar into the kitchen. The cellar's back here, and so, maybe, is-]

HEY ISHAS?

[jossed]

I thought I was a dick? On the inside, where it counts?

[She's totally grinning. Or maybe smirking, but in a good-natured way, as the orc shoulders through the crowd. Joss gives a little pause at vaulting the bar, but hey, gotta do what you gotta do. She glances down at the stairway into the cellar, listening to the telltale sounds of water trickling down over the foundations.]

Who's Ishas?

[raptoroftheloa]

[Ishas appears when summoned! Especially by her assistant. This troll priestess has basically been running on Renew rather than sleep for the past few days/weeks, and it sort of shows. She jingles with amulets, a lot of which are metallic, and she's carrying a thin stew, because you can't live on bread alone. Do not ask her where the meat came from. You really, really do not want to know. She ran out of rats a few days ago, and is very much scraping the bottom of the barrel at this point.]

Dat'll be me, mon. Who you be?

[jossed]

[Soylent stew is made of people?

Joss sizes the troll up quickly - she knows that look; she was probably wearing it herself before she passed out for an indeterminate amount of time before she woke up upstairs.]

Joss Silverbough. New arrival. Probably of interest t'you 'cause your basement's flooding, and I'm an engineer. Spent a little while studyin' the Coilfang drainage systems, so I might be able to hack somethin' together t'help out.

[nashrath]

You're a dick that can fix the goddamn cellar. We've had like six dead from god-knows-what-disease already, they all come back the next day but it's still not fun to deal with.

[She hands the elf a cloth.] That goes over your nose and mouth. One of the druids put some kinda green shit on there, should filter it.

[There is no smell, but you do not want to have skin contact with that water. Maybe because someone gutted a Death Knight down there. Ha ha ha ha ha.]

Sup Ishas. You okay? Want me to take over for a bit?