The Company [IC | OPEN]

[Skaldia]

The Company

OOC

---

A storm was rising over the horizon and, as Eadric watched from his suite, began to pelt the windows facing him with hard rain. A drop here, and then a deluge. Sipping wine, he watched as the pitter patter of rain turned to a deluge that inundated the skyline in a dark gray seething mass that sparked lightning and thunder sporadically, the latter rumbling ominously. In his youth, in the villas outside of Rome, it was said the Gods spoke through thunder. Now, two thousand years later, Eadric knew they spoke through people with the voices of thunder.

In his service record, he had encountered Gods. Slain them. Dragons. Killed. Monstrosities that would have broken the minds of mortals. Banished back to the hellscape from whence they came. He could do all that but he still couldn't escape the day-to-day grind of monotony that life became after so many years. Even elderly humans awaited death with something resembling eagerness. Multiply that tenfold and it was a miracle that he had not allowed himself to be killed by one of those many denizens that had crossed his path at the wrong time. It would have been easy. Just a bit slower getting his guard up, a little more hesitant blocking a thrust and he would be with his Lotus and this existence would fade like a bad dream.

But no. He had made a promise to her all those centuries ago. He would die. But when it was his time to die.

Before that day came, he had a job to do.

Putting down the empty wineglass, he dressed quickly. The Company didn't have a uniform, per se, but overtime Eadric had preferred sharp, clean uniforms of a uniform black, black dress pants coupled with a black silk tie and vest. Not only did it accentuate his strength and height, it made him look the intimidating Manager that he evinced when working with others among the Company while maintaining that formal professionalism he had created as a public persona. After finishing tying his handmade stitched Italian dress shoes, he gave himself a lookover once, was satisfied and left his suite.

As soon as he was in the elevator, he tapped the panel in a series of patterns. Once completed, a female disembodied voice spoke up,"Yes, Mr. Silvaticus?"

"Alert the team. Have them meet in Conference Room A for a brief on the next mission."

"Yes, Mr. Silvaticus. When would you like them to be there?"

"Immediately."

"Yes, Mr. Silvaticus."

By the time he reached the conference room, the storm that had been raging was slipping once more over the horizon. He could see it from the window that made up the wall of the conference room. The conference room itself was dominated by a massive oval table made of black marble and comfortable leather chairs surrounding it. As Manager, he took his place at the head of the table and awaited patiently for the Company to file in.

---

Around the CHQ, polite knocks would begin at the door of each suite of the Company members and consultants. The knocks would continue until answered. Upon answering, a female goblin would greet them with a single piece of stationary, ordering their presence in Conference Room A.

[Menschenfleisch]

Amelia Santiago

Rain. There was a storm outside. She lay in bed, listening to the white noise; the atmospheric static. She'd been told many times before that she'd only been inducted into the Company because of how weak the rest of her generation was. She believed them. If a failed psychologist was their idea of "acceptable standards", well, the 21st century must've really had a shortage of badasses. Then again, she'd noticed most of the Company were old-timey soldiers. Perhaps the recruitment offices were starting to look for candidates with a more psychological approach to solving problems.

The rumble of thunder interrupted Amelia's quiet reverie. What a time to be alive (dead). Working alongside thousand-year-old Roman soldiers, oriental martial artists, scandinavian raiders, medieval knights and especially world-war-veterans. Outdated beliefs and combat techniques aside most people tended to stagnate After death; fixating on their accomplishments or affiliations in life. Sort of.like herself, she supposed. She could see a problem within herself quite easily. Fixing It was another issue altogether. Amelia Santiago, ruminator extraordinaire, got out of bed and shuffled over to her closet, pulling out a pair of unworn grey pants, a black buttoned shirt, a brown jacket and an equally drab blueish scarf. It wasn't That she was a depressed, colourless stooge - she just didn't like to make any statements with her appearance. No need for a comb, bed-hair will do.

It was hard getting used to a new body. All the proportions and cycles were different. It'd taken no small amount of self-reidentification to get over the fact That yes, she no lomger had a familiar face. Even noew she sometimes had trouble identifying herself in a mirror though at least she wasn't one of the unfortunate few given an incorrectly gendered body or geriatric shell. Even the dead had their institution hiccups, It seemed. Breakfast was black coffee and eggs. Hygiene was a quick wash and brush. Comedy was dead and so was Amelia. The unbeholden woman sat down on her bed and opened up her laptop, still a bit of a novelty to her. Sometimes immortality didn't feel so bad. Not when the inexorable march of human progress had so much to offer the deceased.

Amelia's doorbell rang. Strange. Was There a mission scheduled For today? Lax planning on her part, she'd admit, but that admission did nothing to dampen her curiosity. She slowly pushed open the door to be greeted by a rather short and grouchy looking goblin holding up a pen like a baton. She understood few of the goblin's garbled demands but the words 'meeting' and 'immediately' were clear enough. Se thsnked the messenger and slipped on her work shoes; predictably plain black sneakers. Formality in the Company was a joke at best. There were people still walking around in 'casual' togas and roughspun tunics for god's sake. She smiled wearily at the already departing, muttering goblin and began the arduous trek toward the conference room. The corridors were built like traintracks. Straight, square and insanely long. No innuendo intended.

Amy poked her head through the conference room's main door, realising that besides the rather modern and well adjusted Roman at the head of the marble table, she was the first one to arrive. For all the anachronistic behavioirs and aesthetics That plagued the Company Eadric was, thankfully, rather up to date. His name was a bit out of place but that could easily be overlooked. She took a seat. She'd been part of the Company long enough to know that the older and more jaded members of the organisation cared far less about ceremony than they usually let on.

"Hello, Mr. Silvaticus. You wanted to see me about the next mission? While we're waiting, can I just ask; first and foremost, where are we going?"

[Dreshand]

Edward Athens

Athens was awake, in stark contrast to his prone sleeping state earlier. Sleep was increasingly being seen as a luxury, more so due to the fact that a man of Athens... complexion did not require it by necessity. It wasn't long before he heard the polite rasping of someone knocking against his door. He opened it, fully expecting what he saw. The tired Goblin thrusting a pen into his hands before leaving to do the same to others. Athens had been in the company long enough to know what it meant.

Preparation was a quick affair, breakfast consisted of downing a swig of caffeine. Clothing was meticulously organized and placed in an easily accessible place so that passes quickly as well. While dressing 'to kill' would be practical, Athens had learned long ago that Eadric, or Mr Silvaticus as he liked to be called preferred the formality of a finely tailored suit. Besides, his combat wear could be easily put on later.

As he walked out the corridor it was only then that the torrent of rain cascading against the glass walls started to echo into his ears. A benefit of the company rooms was the fact that it could just tell physics to go f_ck itself, thus noise would not ever be a problem. After a while the constant pattering of rain faded into the background due to the monotony of its noise. The occasional flash and boom of thunder could also easily be ignored. Outside the company windows nearby towers could be seen shining in the rain. The ancient stone breakwaters and dilapidated wharfs that bordered the ocean could also be seen not far off in the distance. An Aesthetic decision by the company, some obscure metaphor about the different walks of life that the company defended.

Athens walked on with the slow methodical gait of someone who knew exactly where he was going and what time he wanted to get there. He quietly pushed open the door of the conference room, seeing as somebody else had already inquired into the nature of this sudden mission Athens thought it would be best to simply wait and see what would happen.

[Rodez]

Tristan Kersey

Knock knock.

"Ugggnh." Tristan rolled around in bed, one arm thrashing fiercely towards the door, and the unwelcome visitor behind it.

Knock knock knock.

"Uggggggnnnhh!" Tristan slid out from beneath his blankets, opened his dresser, and removed the first shirt that his hands reached. Predictably, it was a red flannel. He threw it on and haphazardly closed a few buttons, none of them consecutive.

Knock knock knock knock knock.

"Coming! Dammit." Biting back a string of curses, Tristan stomped his way over to the door and flung it open. One of the little pocket-sized goblin women stood on the other side, all green and glowering.

Tristan glowered back. "What is it?" he hissed.

She thrust out a single sheet of paper towards the Texan. "Meeting. Conference room. You go. Now."

The paper said as much. "Good morning to you too, miss," Tristan said, before shutting the door on her.

Thus began a furious morning routine. Body was showered. Teeth were brushed. Hair was combed. Coffee was consumed. A doughnut was wolfed down. He noted with satisfaction that he didn't keep glancing in the mirror. Being dead for nearly two hundred years meant that he was long accustomed to his new body. But Tristan knew, with a twinge of regret, that it had been many decades since he could even remember what the old him, the living him, had looked like. All he knew at this point was that he had been different.

What still jarred him, even after all this time, was hearing himself talk. He could never quite wrap his head around the fact that his Croatian body used perfect Texas slang with such a strange accent. Neither could anyone else, for that matter.

Tristan returned to the dresser and slid on a pair of jeans and some worn sneakers. He knew Eadric had a thing for the suit and tie - but he didn't much care. Their manager was basically a robot; anyone who had been with the Company for more than a week knew that much. Tristan wanted to live a little - even if he was dead.

He was halfway out the door when an aggrieved croak reminded him that he had forgotten something. A raven sat perched on a lamp in the corner, looking annoyed, if it was possible for a bird to possess facial expressions.

"Davy Crockett," Tristan called, holding out one arm. Davy spread his wings and sailed to the new perch in a single motion. The raven had free reign of the suite at all times; he hated being caged, and Tristan hated caging him.

They were inseparable, the raven and him. The bond they shared was one of warg and animal - some saw the bird merely as a tool of his mind, but Tristan treated Davy like a son. Rarely apart, they ate together, slept together, and fought together, especially as Tristan's consciousness became ever-more interlinked with that of the raven.

Now that his companion was in place, Tristan wound his way down the long corridors, which sometimes appeared limitless to the uninitiated. Davy sat contentedly on his shoulder.

After a few minutes, he reached the conference room. Tristan shoved open the door and moved to take a seat without breaking a stride. "Good morning, everyone," he said cheerfully. "Who are we killing today?"

As Tristan sat, he opened his hand to reveal a half-slice of salami, which Davy promptly gobbled up. Hunger sated, the raven looked at every individual in turn, cocking his head and blinking. It could almost have been an expression of smugness. Almost. Birds weren't that smart, after all.

[Auphelia]

Daphne Moon
Psyche

She bustled around the kitchen, finally having put away the last pots and pans when three sharp knocks rang out through the apartment. Swiftly exiting the kitchen and descending the main staircase, the person at the door had only just knocked twice when Daphne opened the door wide. Or perhaps human was the wrong word. It was a goblin, Gladys, who always appeared whenever Mr. Silvatacus announced a mission. Well, always might have been too strong a word, seeing as this was only the third time Gladys had knocked.

"Gladys! Here for Mr. Silvatacus again?" she said, her tone amicable for the overworked secretary.

"Yes, I am," Gladys grumbled, handing Daphne a piece of stationery. "You're to report to the conference room right away."

"Oh bother. I had just gotten breakfast done with and was waiting for it to cool down. I don't suppose you're a fan of chocolate waffles with sausages? By the time I get back they won't be very good, especially if I have to reheat them, which never works out very well. It would be a shame to let them go to waste."

"Yes, I suppose it would be." Gladys had a keen look in her eye, a new appreciation for this new Company member. It seemed that she was a fan of chocolate waffles and sausages. After all, who wouldn't be? Wanting things was good. Very good. Gladys should like people who gave her things. "You wouldn't happen to -"

"The kitchen is up the staircase and to the left. I also had a kettle on, if tea or coffee interests you. I presume I am your last stop?"

"You're the newest, so yes."

"Well then, I hope you enjoy it. See you . . . well, whenever we get back."

Gladys didn't respond, already having clambered halfway up the stairs. In a matter of seconds she was gone, off to hunt for her second breakfast.

Smiling to herself, Daphne put her roller skates on, the wheels still new. Indeed, everything in the apartment seemed new. She had barely been here two months, an impossibly short amount of time since her last life and yet enough to have grown used to her surroundings. It was an odd phenomena, but she didn't question it. She found that was a valuable principle to hold in most matters involving the Company, an organisation she still didn't fully understand.

Making sure to put on on her wide, floppy brimmed white and gold hat, she leaves her apartment and makes her way down the hallway. Gliding with unnatural speed and smoothness thanks to her skates, she transitions her aura of greed to that of contentment. Daphne had found that she enjoyed her new powers, and though Mr. Silvaticus frowned on using negative emotions on the other Company members, she found it helped grease the wheels, so to say, with some of the more ornery members.

Eventually she glided into Conference Room A, her skates hidden by her long white dress. Others in her group had told her that it was unnerving, the way she didn't seem to move her legs at all under her dresses, but she had decided that if she was going to be a superhero (or whatever an Operator was), she would do it right. A long white dress, long white gloves, thin golden necklaces and earrings and a white and gold wide brimmed hat all came together to create an image of elegance and sophistication. At least, that's what she was going for today. The closets in this building were absolutely insane, never seeming to run out of options, enabling her to dress for her "theme", whatever emotions she wanted to make the most of that day.

She took her seat at the table, seeing that three people had already arrived. It was the American woman, Amelia; the bird man, Tristan; and the creepy dark thing she didn't know at all. At least she wasn't late, judging by the fact they were still settling into their chairs. She sat a few chairs down from Mr. Silvaticus and waited for the meeting to start, listening in on the query posed up front.

[Skaldia]

Eadric Silvaticus

Spread out on the table in front of her were multiple manila folders, most of them fairly bulging with information. As Amelia came in to the room, he was leaned back in the chair and perusing one in an almost derelict state of relaxation. Seeing her come in, the relaxed state disappeared in a flurry of movement, where he stood up and eyed her speculatively."Hello, Mr. Silvaticus. You wanted to see me about the next mission? While we're waiting, can I just ask; first and foremost, where are we going?"

He would have rather waited for others to join him but it was his job to answer the same question a thousand times it seemed."A remote town in the Colorado Rockies." He glanced over to where Athens had just walked in, giving him a nod of acknowledgement before turning back to one of the manila folders. He had barely opened another manila folder before the door opened once more and Tristan and company came in, in his usual straightforward approach to problems."Good morning, everyone. Who are we killing today?" As Eadric watched, he fed that crow of his and Eadric frowned. He didn't like food in the conference rooms but it was a bird and usually a pretty fastidious bird at that so he let it slide.

"As I was just explaining to Miss Santiago, we're going to a town in Colorado named," He looked back down at one of the folders until he found was he was looking for."Paradise." He smirked at seeing the name of the town. It was almost as if the denizens that had named it were hoping something terrible would happen to them and their town. The door opened once more and Miss Daphne Moon made her presence, skates and all. He gave her a brief nod before he cleared his throat to get all of their attention. There might be others would join them but they could get the skinny at a later date.

"Paradise is notable for being near a fairly large dwarven settlement. The dwarves have reported the town being empty of all residents. They also report that some of their people that went investigating have also went missing. We are going to investigate and, hopefully, rescue them." He closed the manila folder in front of him and looked up at them."It's 0900 now. Everyone meet in the lobby at 1100. Be kitted out in cold weather gear. Dismissed."

[Auphelia]

Eadric Silvaticus

"As I was just explaining to Miss Santiago, we're going to a town in Colorado named," He looked back down at one of the folders until he found was he was looking for."Paradise." He smirked at seeing the name of the town. It was almost as if the denizens that had named it were hoping something terrible would happen to them and their town. The door opened once more and Miss Daphne Moon made her presence, skates and all. He gave her a brief nod before he cleared his throat to get all of their attention. There might be others would join them but they could get the skinny at a later date.

"Paradise is notable for being near a fairly large dwarven settlement. The dwarves have reported the town being empty of all residents. They also report that some of their people that went investigating have also went missing. We are going to investigate and, hopefully, rescue them." He closed the manila folder in front of him and looked up at them."It's 0900 now. Everyone meet in the lobby at 1100. Be kitted out in cold weather gear. Dismissed."[/blocktext]

Daphne Moon
Psyche

For an hour Daphne perused her closets, searching for the perfect outfit that would combine functionality and style. It seemed that every time she almost reached the end of her options, she would turn around and see that the items she had decided against were replaced with new possibilities. Truly, this apartment was perfect. Eventually she managed to decide on a set of fashionable white boots with gold metallic threads and laces, a pair of tight yet insulating white pants, a long white trench coat with golden buttons, a white cashmere sweater, a pair of white fur gloves, a gold and white scarf, white earmuffs, and a large, floppy brimmed hat edged in gold. Gold and diamond earrings glittered like chandeliers on her ears while a virtual treasure trove of gold jewellery hung from her neck. It was a bit much for her, but she wanted to stand out, especially since in her last mission she had been relegated to reconnaissance and backup, not that it had been needed. If she was going to be a major player, she would have to dress like it.

Upon seeing she had nearly an hour left until she needed to be in the lobby, Daphne headed to the library in her apartment. It wasn't anything comparable to the rumours she had heard about Mr. Silvaticus' grand athenaeum, but it was four walls of books, more than suitable for her needs. Quickly scanning the shelves, she picked up several books about dwarves, former missions in the American West, and Colorado folklore. She skimmed through parts of each book, getting a feel for the content, before re-shelving all of them. Satisfied she had used her time wisely, she made sure to pick up her silver bow on the way out, just in case.

By the time she made it to the lobby she still had nearly a quarter of an hour left to wait, so she took a seat on one of the benches and began to wait by absentmindedly whistling a cheerful tune, causing the lights in the room to brighten and warm thoughts to fill her mind.

[Dreshand]

Edward Athens

Athens had made his way back to his room, it took him only a few minutes to find his preferred garb. A dark hooded cloak that he had owned ever since his initial career. The cloth seemed leathery at a glance, made from bleak materials, yet to anyone wearing it the cloak would be soft as silk and weighed the user down to the same extent. The hood itself was almost perpetually dark, the kind of darkness that had some form of supernatural origins. Now it was time for the final preperations, his blades were sharpened and tainted with unknown Ichors. An assortment of poisons and chemicals were always surprisingly useful in missions. And last but not least Athen's extensive library held a small number of books depicting Dwarf Biology and Sociology as well as the myths and noteworthy occurrences within Colorado.

By this time he was ready, and made his way towards the lobby with the same slightly slow pace he always used. Nobody else seemed to be around, so all he had to do was think. Memories from the depths came drizzling back slowly, in fact Colorado had been visited by him once. It did not end well for the people involved, deep down Athens still hoped that this mission would lift that small inkwell of guilt within him, an atonement of sorts. Yet so many people had said that such a goal was nothing but a mirage. So Athens once again locked his doubts away, and focused on the mission. The strange music that Daphne was famous for now filled the air, it helped to lift his spirits enough.

[Menschenfleisch]

Amelia Santiago

Amy shrugged. A number of those present had already left, much to her surprise. Briefings generally lasted longer than "we're going here, get ready" though she could certainly appreciate Eadric's decision to give them time before commencing the mission. That is, if it was even his decision to let them sleep in that morning. It wouldn't have been the first unreasonably early mission they'd ever undertaken, even if it was still a little jarring to be thrown into a new assignment so quickly.

As she pushed her way through the room's door Amelia began to think about the mission itself. Paradise? Obviously not the one in Las Vegas but it still had to be pretty big in order to house an entire mining operation. Whatever force had kidnapped/killed those dwarves would have to have been incredibly powerful. Was it a wise idea to send a group of investigators after the thing so soon after the incident? Obviously not. But, the dead were expendable until proven otherwise. She guessed... this was her chance to prove herself. That or her chance to avoid being demoted to janitor-of-the-dead or something.

Her loadout was simple. A pistol which had a name she didn't even bother learning, a knife, first-aid kit, fist-sized glass orb, two flashlights, some rations (for those of mortal composition) a pair of binoculars, hand-warmers, flares and a length of climbing rope. Of course, clothing mattered too. She chose a cyan-white overcoat lined with fur, padded white pants and a thick cotton shirt with hood attached. She'd likely be camouflaged in the snow, and it'd be near impossible to see any glass pieces in the middle of ice-city. Frankly, she felt pretty suited for the mission at hand. It remained to be seen whether the others would be a good fit.

It took her quite a long time to pick out her equipment, all things considered. She looked rather overprepared, sporting a plethora of equipment like she was going to be climbing a mountain (and not transported via magical or mundane means with the intention of fighting something big, bad and probably overwhelmingly strong). Still, she never felt self conscious when lives (her own included) were on the line. God, some of these people looked like they were going to a gala, that jewellery-adorned woman especially. Sighing, she picked out a seat and buried herself in her thoughts, her focused mind quickly dissolving into a mishmash of unformed ideas and emotional tangents.

[Rodez]

Tristan Kersey

"Fantastic," Tristan muttered, as he made his way back to the room to gear up for the mission. Dwarves were always trouble, in his opinion - either they would screw you out of your cash or their little hairy asses needed saving. The latter, in this particular case. Tristan looked sidelong at Davy, who remained perched on his shoulder as he walked. "You don't like the little buggers, do you?"

The raven blinked, and Tristan nodded to himself. "No, no I don't like them either."

Back inside his suite, Tristan approached a steel locker that was set into the wall by his bed. Punching in the combination, he flung open the door and began removing the gear he wanted for the mission.

His flannel-and-jeans outfit came off. On went grey combat pants, hiking boots, and his San Antonio Spurs hoodie. He holstered his precious Colt .45, Catalina, and stocked his belt full of knives and bandage rolls. A snow camo hunting jacket was thrown on over everything, and a Texas Rangers beanie was slipped over his dark curls. Finally, he grabbed a cheap pair of headphones and cranked up the Pearl Jam playing from his phone.

With everything set, he stepped back out and made his way over to the lobby. Most of the team seemed to have assembled already. Tristan found a seat on the benches next to Daphne, and after a moment's hesitation turned up the mournful crooning of Eddie Vedder to full blast.

[Barapam]

The former she-wolf of the SS entered the lobby as well. She was dressed in white, just like the rest, but looked more as if she was going to have a weekend of snowboarding, rather than seeking out and destroying whatever threatened the dwarves in Colorado. She had even a small box of Latscenkiefersalbe with her, to really get that nice ski tan. Since she had put some on her face already, the smell of pine trees stood around her like... well, a forest. But even if Wulfhilda had disguised herself as a tourist, she still hoped that they after a successful mission would have time to unwind in the slopes, and then at the after ski ad well. Looking at her colleagues though, it seemed she was fairly alone in that thought.

"Right", said Raksha, "I was only given a very brief briefing late last night when I came back from that other thing on Wall Street... Which, I might add, of course turned out successfull. But other than helping our small friends in Colorado, what's happening exactly?"

She asked, even though the others probably didn't know more. It was often the case that the analysts at the Company were tight-lipped, and as a result, so were their bosses. But it was still nice to chit-chat nevertheless.

[Skaldia]

Eadric Silvaticus

As everyone left the room, Eadric closed his eyes and took a breath. Opening one of the manila folders, convenient that no one had seemed to want to ask about them, he scanned the pages. The Honeycomb. Hmm. He hadn't wanted to get close to that place but if Paradise had fallen, then it was for sure what was going to happen. Why else would a possible supernatural event occur to such an out of the way place like Paradise? Sure, enemies of the dwarves might have been involved but Eadric doubted that conclusion; dwarves didn't keep enemies they killed them.

Regardless of the outcome, he would lead the team and discover what happened.

---

Eadric slipped in to his suite and dressed quickly, choosing gear that was both aesthetic and function. Eadric's closet was huge, not because he enjoyed material things (which he somewhat did) but because it was never known where the Company would send him. Hell, in one corner he had scuba gear for those odd missions that led to the worlds underneath the sea. Looking at them, he shuddered remembering fighting off mutant sharks.

In the end, winter-grey jacket, pants, and boots with a mask gathered around his neck in case the weather dropped suddenly. After dressing, he made sure the weapons he had carried were secure but not in the way of movement. Some weapons were easier to hide, like the ring that concealed his sword, but that was a weapon used only when his desert eagles could not finish the job.

Making his way to the lobby, he was pleased to see most of the team he had assigned for this already here. Nodding to each, he tuned to Wulfhida and frowned slightly. He had disapproved of her assignment to the Wall Street mission, but she had done the Company proud, as she had been doing for decades now. Despite their own tumultuous history, he was glad to have her aboard this mission."Part of the mission is to discern what exactly is happening, Hilda." He said, re-positioning the strap of his pack on his back and turning towards the entrance.

"I'm getting authorization to use the Dwarven Portal, so we'll be arriving at the dwarven settlement near Paradise. If you haven't dealt with dwarves, please do not insult them. I will not protect you from their reprisal and they will kill you."

With that lovely thought echoing through everyone's head, Eadric marched towards the lobby doors. As he neared he pulled out a curious amber orb and held it towards the doors. A bright light suddenly streamed out from the orb and stuck the doors. The doors appeared to melt and disappear. In their place was a portal to what appeared to be a dark room made of stone. On the other side, dwarves wearing heavy plate armor and wielding hammers and spears were awaiting them.

Eadric did not hesitate and plunged through the portal.