This is for adding a Search Category to the thread.
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The radio crackles.
"Ready and able, Autumn Leader. Can't wait to fly by your side, sir."
One's glider seems to increase in speed slightly as the wings drop to catch an invisible thermal. The radio crackles again as the rest of Rick's glider unit sound off and increase their speed also.
For simple tasks, Dexterity + Athletics cover glider rolls. Obviously, penalties will be stated if and when they occur
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Should probably wait until after I see just how well I can handle one of these things before you say that...
Of course, that wasn't a thought he felt it wise to verbalize. "Right, let's find the bastards then." Then he tweaked the controls and let his glider...well, glide, forward. Slipping it between thermals as he does and ever working to gain additional altitude. It's not as though it wasn't easy to lose in a hurry if he had to. But gaining it was much trickier, especially when you weren't involved in powered flight. And he knew well how many aerial battles were determined by who was higher in the sky.
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The Autumn King trails slightly behind the unit he was leading but it makes no odds. They form up on him without any signal, covering and protecting as best they can. The Hedge sky is clear at thie height but still holds the dangerous elements thta the unwary could easily misinterpret.
Slithers of tiny glass clouds, for instance. One of the many dangers Rick had been instucted on by Tickle's mission logs before embarking. The clouds could rip a glider to shreds without much notice, and send the pilot crashing to the ground.
"Autumn Lead, this is Four. Picking up something ahead. Permission to scout ahead, over."
Can Rick make a Perception roll
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The Elemental's blessing gives him a far better view than even the artificial eyesight of the clockwork soldiers.
What he sees steals his breath.
A horde is the only word to describe what approaches the main army of Sacramento. All of the marching beasts under the Storm's control holds very little formation. Hobbes of all manner of shape and sizes are being whipped into a frenzy by numerous unit leaders, prodding them into either death or victory. Most probably both. Packs of briarwolves, held back on leashes, itching to shred flesh from bones, hungry and wild. Rows upon rows of the Storm's army marches from wherever they have gathered, an endless tide seeking one final act; the destruction of the fortress.
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For a handful of seconds Rick finds himself very, very glad that he was so far above the horde charging across the ground...and that Terri was below the ground in the tunnels. But the gut reaction passed and he found himself observing the amassed horde with a critical eye; seeking to determine the various types of hobs below, remember what he could about their capabilities, determine how many units there seemed to be under the command on one leader, and so forth. Until he felt almost detached from the chaos below. He'd forgotten that effect of flying. How removing one's self so far from the ground made what was happening down there seem smaller, less important, like pieces moving across a board. It distanced you from what was going on below...at least until the battle found you up in the sky.
"Four, it looks like it's the Storm's Horde you're seeing. Permission granted, take Three with you. And at the first sign of danger to you up here hightail it. We're here to scout, not fight, if you go down into that you're not getting back out." And information was useless if it couldn't be relayed back to the people who needed it.
"Garth, can you hear us?"
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"Confirmed Leader." Two gliders peel away, picking up speed as they seem to veer off to the left slightly where another thermal propels them both forward.
"Loud and clear, Sir. What you got?" The Lieutenant's voice crackles over the radio.
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