Their leader's response was swift, measured, and calm, a clear contrast to the image of the raging berserker that he tried to propagate. "Start putting gunners in the upper floors and break open those windows. We're starting early. The gunners will shoot anyone they see; the rest of us don't move until the streets are cleared." Lights were lit and shouts began to resonate from within the building. The tense air that had been occupying the hall for the past week now had exploded into a frenzy. Several bandits armed with muskets retreated into the upper floors.
Scythe jerked a thumb to a slender female Miqo'te, cocking his head at the tunnel that had been dug into the floor of the house. "I'jhimei, your group will cause a distraction in the Sapphire Exchange to draw them off. Aim for the merchants, burn or destroy any goods you can get your hands on. As soon as Blades arrive, get back here and demolish the tunnel." The Miqo'te in question nodded quickly and silently gestured with her hand, the group descending down the pit that lead to the tunnels.
The Highlander turned his attention to a rather timid looking Midlander sitting on the hull of the dreadnought. "Start the dreadnought!" The Midlander shot him a gaze of surprise. "Are you sure? He said it'd only run for a few hours...and if we start it now, we won't be able to turn it off!" Scythe's response was a guttural snarl. The Midlander quickly went to work without protest and gestured to his colleague, and the two of them dove into the hatch of the dreadnought, closing it with a loud clunk.
It was all falling apart. The pirate must have betrayed them; it was the only possibility. The Brass Blades didn't care enough to sweep bandits out of the lane and the Sultansworn lacked the resources or justification to do it. Their benefactor was the only one who knew the details of what they would accomplish here. It was an organized attack, and it seemed the attackers knew exactly where in the Lane they were. Scythe knew it was always a distinct possibility; Limsans were all the same.
It didn't matter, anyway. If he were to be honest with himself, Scythe was glad that this happened. That agonized waiting would come to an end. The revolution would start now, and nobody in Ul'dah had the firepower to stop the dreadnought.
The bandits were now scrambling for their arms and armor as the rest of them that hadn't left for the windows or the Sapphire Avenue Exchange began to assemble in the main hall, their breathing haggard with terror or excitement, faces universally painted with anxiety. Some of the more experienced veterans from Ala Mhigo were silent, grim expressions crossing their faces. They checked loaded muskets, pistols, grabbed swords and shields, spears and axes, donning haphazardly constructed leather cuirasses and chainmail. "Get ready! They've probably got archers. We're going to use the dreadnought for cover!" Scythe snapped a glare at the machine as he brandished his wicked falchion. "Start the damn thing!"
The dreadnought in question was an ugly thing; a blocky, angular mass of segmented steel plates, roughly twenty-five fulms in length and rectangular in shape, and had no wheels or visible propulsion system to speak of. A magitek cannon had been mounted to the top with a front plate to shield the gunner as they stood on the hull of the vehicle. Its front gave way to sloping armor with a viewport slit, and the plates were evenly spaced and layered in such a way as to afford the most overall protection from all angles of attack. The rear of the dreadnought contained a row of jutting, horizontal plates, which was the dreadnought's radiator.
"We're proceeding with the plan as normal," Scythe bellowed as the dreadnought roared to life, its hull beginning to hover about a fulm in the air, the radiator of the machine beginning to glow a calm cerulean blue. Even with the din, the telltale lightning-like cracks of musketfire began to permeate the air above them, and the Highlander had to shout to make himself be heard. "Javelin and Tusk will take the dreadnought to Hustings strip to remove the Sultana. The timetable's been moved up, so we've no idea if the other members of the Syndicate will be present."
"What about Raubahn?" One of the Hellsguard rumbled. Scythe waved an idle hand. "If he gets in your way, kill him, but otherwise don't bother. Once the streets are clear, the dreadnought will break down the wall and make its way there. The rest of us are going to break through into the Ruby Road Exchange. The people we have near the gates will shut it. Search and destroy! We will remove the corrupt rulers who are content to ignore us, and--"
The hatch of the dreadnought clunked open, and the Midlander emerged. His face was covered in soot and a blue fog began to emerge from within the hatch. He was coughing and struggled to breathe. "Boss!" He hacked out. "The dreadnought, it--"
At the same time, the engine of the dreadnought ceased its smooth, loud humming, and gave way to a sickening series of clang! clang! clang!, like a house's weight in pots and pans had been caught in a tornado. Scythe's expression morphed from determination to one of surprise...and fear. "Get it under control! What's happening!?" The light of the radiator began to flicker and flash and the steel plates of the machine began to buckle and leak a sickening azure light. Scythe and his compatriots could only cover their ears and stare in bewilderment at the sudden reaction of the machine as the clang! clang! clang! of its engines surrendered into a horrifyingly loud grinding. The sound of steel being stretched taut to its breaking point pierced the ears of all nearby, and the metal screamed a shrill whine as the grinding of the engine gradually slowed and stopped.
And then the world exploded.
--
What was once an unassuming row of idle houses, boarded up and abandoned in Pearl Lane, became something very different. A brilliant sky-blue light briefly shone from the windows that the musketeers were peeking out of, and eventually give way to a massive, explosive gust of smoke and hot air that propelled the unfortunate gunners out of the windows and onto the ground below with a sickening crack. AÂ brilliant gout of cerulean fire blasted apart the boards over the aperture and sent the door, frame and all, flying out into the streets, and the boom that resulted was audible through the entire city. The impact shook the houses down to its foundations as the shingled ceiling collapsed, the poorly maintained wooden walls igniting rapidly in flames and following the ceiling's descent. The adjacent houses managed to avoid a similar fate, though their ceilings too collapsed from the shockwave and the floors of the second story groaned in protest, threatening to crush those unfortunate enough to be beneath them. The rubble and debris buried the tunnels, masking the cries of terror of those trapped within.
Flaming, ashen cadavers emerged from the door screaming agonized cries, their forms engulfed in blue liquid that ate through their skin and bones even as it blazed relentlessly, before falling over and being overcome by the silence of death. Even more still managed to stumble out, covered in soot and burns, before succumbing mercifully quickly to the wounds.
And then, as the flames settled, the wooden frame of the houses creaking as they were consumed by the swiftly cooling inferno, there was naught but silence.
Scythe jerked a thumb to a slender female Miqo'te, cocking his head at the tunnel that had been dug into the floor of the house. "I'jhimei, your group will cause a distraction in the Sapphire Exchange to draw them off. Aim for the merchants, burn or destroy any goods you can get your hands on. As soon as Blades arrive, get back here and demolish the tunnel." The Miqo'te in question nodded quickly and silently gestured with her hand, the group descending down the pit that lead to the tunnels.
The Highlander turned his attention to a rather timid looking Midlander sitting on the hull of the dreadnought. "Start the dreadnought!" The Midlander shot him a gaze of surprise. "Are you sure? He said it'd only run for a few hours...and if we start it now, we won't be able to turn it off!" Scythe's response was a guttural snarl. The Midlander quickly went to work without protest and gestured to his colleague, and the two of them dove into the hatch of the dreadnought, closing it with a loud clunk.
It was all falling apart. The pirate must have betrayed them; it was the only possibility. The Brass Blades didn't care enough to sweep bandits out of the lane and the Sultansworn lacked the resources or justification to do it. Their benefactor was the only one who knew the details of what they would accomplish here. It was an organized attack, and it seemed the attackers knew exactly where in the Lane they were. Scythe knew it was always a distinct possibility; Limsans were all the same.
It didn't matter, anyway. If he were to be honest with himself, Scythe was glad that this happened. That agonized waiting would come to an end. The revolution would start now, and nobody in Ul'dah had the firepower to stop the dreadnought.
The bandits were now scrambling for their arms and armor as the rest of them that hadn't left for the windows or the Sapphire Avenue Exchange began to assemble in the main hall, their breathing haggard with terror or excitement, faces universally painted with anxiety. Some of the more experienced veterans from Ala Mhigo were silent, grim expressions crossing their faces. They checked loaded muskets, pistols, grabbed swords and shields, spears and axes, donning haphazardly constructed leather cuirasses and chainmail. "Get ready! They've probably got archers. We're going to use the dreadnought for cover!" Scythe snapped a glare at the machine as he brandished his wicked falchion. "Start the damn thing!"
The dreadnought in question was an ugly thing; a blocky, angular mass of segmented steel plates, roughly twenty-five fulms in length and rectangular in shape, and had no wheels or visible propulsion system to speak of. A magitek cannon had been mounted to the top with a front plate to shield the gunner as they stood on the hull of the vehicle. Its front gave way to sloping armor with a viewport slit, and the plates were evenly spaced and layered in such a way as to afford the most overall protection from all angles of attack. The rear of the dreadnought contained a row of jutting, horizontal plates, which was the dreadnought's radiator.
"We're proceeding with the plan as normal," Scythe bellowed as the dreadnought roared to life, its hull beginning to hover about a fulm in the air, the radiator of the machine beginning to glow a calm cerulean blue. Even with the din, the telltale lightning-like cracks of musketfire began to permeate the air above them, and the Highlander had to shout to make himself be heard. "Javelin and Tusk will take the dreadnought to Hustings strip to remove the Sultana. The timetable's been moved up, so we've no idea if the other members of the Syndicate will be present."
"What about Raubahn?" One of the Hellsguard rumbled. Scythe waved an idle hand. "If he gets in your way, kill him, but otherwise don't bother. Once the streets are clear, the dreadnought will break down the wall and make its way there. The rest of us are going to break through into the Ruby Road Exchange. The people we have near the gates will shut it. Search and destroy! We will remove the corrupt rulers who are content to ignore us, and--"
The hatch of the dreadnought clunked open, and the Midlander emerged. His face was covered in soot and a blue fog began to emerge from within the hatch. He was coughing and struggled to breathe. "Boss!" He hacked out. "The dreadnought, it--"
At the same time, the engine of the dreadnought ceased its smooth, loud humming, and gave way to a sickening series of clang! clang! clang!, like a house's weight in pots and pans had been caught in a tornado. Scythe's expression morphed from determination to one of surprise...and fear. "Get it under control! What's happening!?" The light of the radiator began to flicker and flash and the steel plates of the machine began to buckle and leak a sickening azure light. Scythe and his compatriots could only cover their ears and stare in bewilderment at the sudden reaction of the machine as the clang! clang! clang! of its engines surrendered into a horrifyingly loud grinding. The sound of steel being stretched taut to its breaking point pierced the ears of all nearby, and the metal screamed a shrill whine as the grinding of the engine gradually slowed and stopped.
And then the world exploded.
--
What was once an unassuming row of idle houses, boarded up and abandoned in Pearl Lane, became something very different. A brilliant sky-blue light briefly shone from the windows that the musketeers were peeking out of, and eventually give way to a massive, explosive gust of smoke and hot air that propelled the unfortunate gunners out of the windows and onto the ground below with a sickening crack. AÂ brilliant gout of cerulean fire blasted apart the boards over the aperture and sent the door, frame and all, flying out into the streets, and the boom that resulted was audible through the entire city. The impact shook the houses down to its foundations as the shingled ceiling collapsed, the poorly maintained wooden walls igniting rapidly in flames and following the ceiling's descent. The adjacent houses managed to avoid a similar fate, though their ceilings too collapsed from the shockwave and the floors of the second story groaned in protest, threatening to crush those unfortunate enough to be beneath them. The rubble and debris buried the tunnels, masking the cries of terror of those trapped within.
Flaming, ashen cadavers emerged from the door screaming agonized cries, their forms engulfed in blue liquid that ate through their skin and bones even as it blazed relentlessly, before falling over and being overcome by the silence of death. Even more still managed to stumble out, covered in soot and burns, before succumbing mercifully quickly to the wounds.
And then, as the flames settled, the wooden frame of the houses creaking as they were consumed by the swiftly cooling inferno, there was naught but silence.
