[The Cages] The Ape Escape (Job Solo)

[Zandelia]

Spring 85th – The Cages


Zandelia found herself ensconced within the cages of the captive once again, her duties now beginning to vex her more than anything else. She was glad for the fact that she was being paid to watch those whom were fortuitously ensnared within the mists of the city proper, however it was impeding her upon her true purposes for being at the Spires in the first place. She found herself wishing she were out in the mists herself, her hunting party stalking the Petals until they came across the truly valuable of Jamoura. Whilst others found themselves aiming merely to capture citizens for their perception of the greater good, Zandelia knew that the real jewel of them all would be their vacant leader – Marn. Not to mention the fact that there were any number of valuable Deacons to track down and capture. They were worth more to her than to others, reputation more pressing than the coin.

And yet I find myself trailing the secured cages, feeding and tending the feral for most of the day with naught to do other than walk and wish she thought to herself as she rounded another cage, the wolf within snarling at her but knowing well enough not to attack the bars by now – even the powerfully feral knew action and consequence.

She stalked through the maelstrom of roars, growls, and any number of other imaginable noises with her Stinger Spears in her hands. She had given up on the notion that her tonfa could protect her in her current environment, their reach and power all too easily shrugged off by the large Jamoura even if she could use them against other humans and the smaller Kelvic that dotted the landscape every so often. No, she relied upon her newest weapons now, purchased from Centroc and far more effective at quelling any outbursts. Currently she was on patrol rather than feeding duty, her green-eyed gaze taking in as much as it could observe as she passed by the numerous wooden constructs. Every so often she would stop and peer into an individual cage, taking a few moments to see if the more docile amongst the feral were able to converse properly yet.

“How about you? Do you understand me at all? Or are you still the beast within?” she asked a slumped Jamoura, sat as he was in the corner of his cage, gaze mournful and not yet filled with animalistic rage.

She awaited a response from the creature, a snarl or the vain hope of an actual word, but after a few moments of nothingness she shook her head and sighed to herself. She was becoming a reasonable judge of the shifting from feral to docile and knew that the Jamoura was on the cusp of returning back to sanity. She wondered whether it was ever a welcome return for those dredged from the mists, for the Jamoura loved peace and prosperity but recently had been shown all too clearly how bestial they still could be when the occasion called for it – or was forced upon them. She thought that it accounted for the wounded expressions most of them possessed when returning to their more peaceful natures, the experience changing their perceptions irrevocably. She had even seen some of them cry, and that was a sight in and of itself, one she knew she would never forget.

“Still, the more that are rescued the more information they can give,” she told herself as she turned away and walked a few steps, “and if I can get there first then all the better for the Crimson Edge” she finished softly, knowing the information gathered recently was not altogether of much practical use.

She had only managed those few step when a tremendous crashing, crunching sound reached her ears and her senses groaned to her with dread. There were shouts now, followed by a bestial roar so bone-chilling she did not turn to face it immediately.

Not again… she thought morosely.

[Zandelia]

She finally turned, trepidation filling her as she already knew exactly what her gaze would take in before even seeing it. The occurrence was becoming all too frequent now, the Jamoura proving to be too much for the impromptu cages. If she had had the raw materials and manpower she would have made the damned things out of metal, but such resources were apparently scarce in the Spires. She gripped the shafts of her spears tightly, knuckles white upon the wood, as she finally took in the loose Jamoura. He was monstrous in size, one of the elder ones she thought judging by the coloring and dominating height. She watched as it picked itself from the ground, splinters falling off of its mass in droves as it tried to get used to the fact that it was suddenly possessed of freedom. It was slow at first, its bulk rearing up and getting ready for the inevitable rampage.

“Petch sake, why haven’t they jumped on it already?” she asked the world in general as she noted that the other guards, who were not Jamoura, were backing away with fearful glances, “oh, that’s why. Cowards!” she hissed then, a doused cat in dragged in from the downpour.

She looked around for the Jamoura guards themselves, finding them to be some time away but rapidly setting about picking up weapons and migrating to the impending scene of carnage. Zandelia growled, knowing that to prevent the loose feral from causing even more mayhem, even perhaps releasing others by smashing further cages, she would need to try and keep it busy enough until the Hahk'Shatara arrived to subdue it more easily. It was a task that was far more easily said than done in her book, her experiences telling her that though Jamoura whilst feral were possessed of instinct more than intelligence they were more than capable of tearing her to pieces. She shouted at the creature, running forwards a few steps. She threw one of her Stinger Spears at it, hoping to land a lucky first shot and sedate it without a fight. Her luck, however, was not so fine to her this day and it merely hit the Jamoura’s head with the shaft and missed sinking in with the stingers themselves.

“Petch!” she shouted, “well don’t just stand there you louts! Do something! Weapons!” she shouted at the other human guards surrounding the Jamoura escapee.

She stepped forwards and took another Stinger Spear from her left hand and transferred it to her right. She planted her feet deliberately now and took more time to aim as the Jamoura found itself harassed by a few other guards, brandishing their own spears and throwing nets at it hopefully, a delaying response. She hefted the spear over her shoulder, keeping it parallel to the ground, before taking a pace forwards and shot her arm forwards. The spear flew from her grasp, this time true to form, and headed straight for the back of the creature. Unfortunately a badly timed jabbing from one of her colleagues caused it to rear to the side and her Stinger Spear flew past it harmlessly, instead planting itself solidly into the leg of another guard who fell in seconds.

“Team work! Drive it! Drive it this way you dolts, no use merely flicking those damned things at it! Come on! Throw your spears when it goes for me!” she shouted above the cacophony, bringing her last spear into her right hand now and readying it for use.

They all looked at her as if she were mad but shrugged after a few moments before putting her plan into motion. She knew that the best way to keep it busy was to focus its attention upon one target. She could dodge it well enough until reinforcements arrived and had the best chance of taking it down, she was the only one of them whom had entered the mists so far – they knew that and listened well. She smiled ruthlessly at that, wondering if she did in fact have what it took to be a leader.

“Come on! Concentrate your lunges! Gather around it in a wall so it has nowhere else to go now!” she shouted the orders as she watched them do their best to try and implement them whilst still jumping backwards from wild swipes of certain injury.

Come on beast, do what your instincts tell you too. Run from the harder wall and towards the softer target she thought as she stepped closer now, readying herself for the inevitable stampede.

[Zandelia]

It took a few more moments for the team of guards to keep up their jabbing before anything other than a stalemate occurred. Zandelia spent those moments creeping slowly towards the brute, her steps sideways on in case she found herself with a pressing need to sprint in the other direction. She thought about throwing her third, and last, Stinger Spear but decided against it after some forethought, all too aware that she would be caught without a weapon whilst still being faced with a lumber giant of a Jamoura. Instead she managed to get within a score of paces before one of the guards lunged and managed to do what Zandelia had told him, forcing the Jamoura to step back a little and turn slightly – bringing the lone Zandelia into its field of vision. It snarled, baring fangs so yellow she was sure it must have been tearing meat apart for some time in the mists.

Right, here we go Zandelia. Back away slowly now and get ready to run she told herself internally.

She saw its beady eyes focus upon her, could almost believe that its breath was playing across her face as its nostrils dilated and its face contorted into a terrifying visage of pure rage. She shouted back at it, mostly just to get its attention squarely focused upon her more than out of any sense of courageous defiance. The scene froze for a few moments, Jamoura staring at human and human standing their ground solidly. It was a strange tableaux, one which she had hoped not to find herself in all too often. It was different when she was out in the mists, prepared and armed to the teeth with techniques for safe extrication. She found herself wishing she had but a single damned Sleep Egg to use right then, the positioning perfect for its use. Instead she took a deep breath to relay her last ‘orders’ before flight would set in.

“Throw your damned spears at it you dolts!” she shouted as she turned upon her heels, center of gravity low and keeping her balanced.

Then she ran, sprinting away with her spear smashing from side to side in her grip as she pumped her arms in tandem and pushed her legs to move as fast as they ever had, feet almost digging chunks out of the ground in her flight. She heard the roar, felt the ground tremble as the Jamoura began its lumbering assault and picked up speed rapidly. She had little time to look back, focusing only upon the goal of running out into the open and away from the cages themselves to prevent a further outbreak. As she ran past them, however, she could hear the bars rattle as other animals set about giving their vocal support to the animal. She ignored them and kept up her flat out sprint as much as she could, her lungs beginning to burn after a mere half-score of seconds as she felt the Jamoura almost gain enough ground to swipe at her. It was then that she risked all and made a jumping dodge to her right, hitting the ground upon her shoulders and rolling uncomfortably as she was sure she felt bone grind upon bone in her back.

Petch sake was all she could rationalize as she came up to her feet once more, knees pushing her back to an upright position as the Jamoura finally figured out she was no longer in front of it. She threw h3er spear and this time it hit home, but she knew that it would possibly not be enough. The venom took some time to bite into its victim and she had little time to spare.

She ran back towards the cages to get some support until the Jamoura began to feel the sedation but found it coming the other way in the form of the Jamoura guards setting out to forcibly restrain their brethren. With a satisfied sigh of relief she made her way back towards the battle ground at a jog now, picking up her lost Stinger Spear and retrieving the other one that had hit the man from the ground where it had been pulled out and left. She came to a stop outside the cage she had been inspecting before the break out, breathing hard and trying desperately to get her lungs inflating at a normal rate.

[Zandelia]

As she gathered herself she watched the Jamoura within the cage once more, the rare flickering of pity gathering within her heart for the creature. It was sad, in some ways, how it sat hunched and in the corner as if wondering why when the world had turned so cruel. She could sympathize with it on some levels, her own life not particularly gentle nor filled with joys to speak of. Still, what she perhaps possessed that the Jamoura did not was the perspective of cruelty verses innocence. She had grown up surrounded by wanton destruction and pointless torture. She knew the bestial side of herself very well indeed, knowing that it simultaneously required constant shackling but also that it was worth using upon occasion – without regret. From what she had gathered of the Jamoura culture so far there was little to no contingency plan for such a perspective, the creatures seemingly relying upon their intellectual natures to maintain control.

A foolish supposition. The beast will always win out in the end without placation every so often. Still, it is depressing to see it brought to these creatures with such stark clarity, no cushioning to protect them. How many will break under its weight I wonder? she thought morosely, aware now that she was being called to the aid of getting the now sedate captive into its cage.

She turned on her heel, thinking she caught the slightest glimpse of the Jamoura in the cage fixing its gaze upon her but dismissing it after a few moments as she made her meandering way towards a new cage, this one empty. She helped to remove the bars from their ruts, many hands on the task to carry the slumbering beast into its new home, using her own hands to help push the limbs fully into the prison before replacing the bars and reinforcing them in several places. There was a strong, bonding glue, made from honey of all things, that they smeared along the joints and other locations. When the Jamoura awoke he would find himself once more incarcerated, and this time in a cage that would hold its strength better. Their job done now the group dispersed and Zandelia made her way to the food stores.

“Damned hungering work, outfoxing Jamoura” she muttered to herself as she set about cramming several steaming pieces of meat into her mouth, grabbing a handful of nuts and sweet berries to accompany the succulent juices pooling in her mouth. She ate on the go these days, never one to stick around much for no precise reason. She had drawn enough poor attention to her with her failed guarding of that damnable human escapee and did not wish more reasons for disdain to follow that one. However, she did tarry long enough to gather some foodstuffs for the Jamoura she had come to pity. It took her a few more minutes, but as they saw her take it towards one cages she managed to wriggle out a small look of approval from the Hahk'Shatara on her way.

“Not even a caged creature should suffer neglect I think” she told the air in general as she slid the selected nuts, berries and root vegetables through the bars for future consumption by the captive.

“Thank you” came the unexpected reply, causing her to startle and shoot a look of disbelief towards the now fully conscious Jamoura.

“Don’t mention it...” she responded due to habit more than politeness, “didn’t know you weren’t...feral...anymore” she searched for the right words, but instead opted for blunt truth over affected emotion.

“Feral, is that what they call us? An apt title for what we do in that...cursed place” he told her as he reached a tentative hand out towards the food she had left for it.

“Tell me about it?” she asked, “I help capture when I am not here. Anything could prove useful in reclaiming as many of your brethren in tact as possible. I could help more with anything you could remember. I don’t usually have the luxury of asking one such as you. If you don’t mind of course?” she asked him slowly, keeping her tone gentle so as to cause as little affront as possible.

[Creeper]

The Jamoura was still fatigued as the final effects of the Fog wore off. The food was very helpful in taming the beast within. After all, when they were under the effects of the Fog, there were only two things that led them, the same two things that led all animals. Survival and reproduction. And food had become scarce in the overrun city, which caused those there to spread out, or to fight more amongst themselves. "I do not know what you wish to know young human, I wish I could be more help. Thank you for the food, it was such a rarity in the city." He crunched the nuts, the berries bursting sweetly. "I am sorry to have been a part of all of the problem side of things here. I should have left when the others did, but I couldn't abandon my beautiful city. I thought if I stayed, that I could've changed something..." Under the weight of his guilt, he shifted away, and picked up a handful of blueberries, "Marn always loved blueberries..." He would talk no further, withdrawing in himself as many of those in the cages did.   Skills Interrogation: 1 Observation: 2 Detection: 1 Weapon (Short Spear): 3 Leadership: 3 Stealth: 1 Running: 1 Acrobatics: 1 Intelligence: 1   Lores Jamoura: The Difference between Feral and Normal Distraction: Shouting Showing Compassion with Food Opportunity: Food is Scarce in the Fog Marn: Loves Blueberries   Other Well done, my favorite part was when she speared one of the other guards. Enjoy your rewards