Despite careful planning and adherence to protocol (Modules 3, 95, 101, etc.), circumstances may arise where you find yourself the target of a sudden, violent ambush. Whether orchestrated by rival guilds, disgruntled creditors, offended guards, or simply opportunistic predators, immediate and decisive reaction is crucial for survival. Panicking is suboptimal. Getting captured is generally worse.
Immediate Action Drills:
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Break Contact/Create Distance: Your first instinct upon ambush initiation (e.g., crossbow bolt whizzing past ear, garrote tightening, thug appearing abruptly from behind suspiciously large crate) should be evasive movement. Dodge, roll, sprint – put distance and/or cover between yourself and the immediate threat. Standing still to 'assess' often results in becoming intimately familiar with the pavement or multiple sharp objects.
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Utilize Environment: Scan your surroundings instantly (Module 35). Identify cover (walls, barrels, refuse piles – anything solid), escape routes (alleys, doorways, sewer grates), potential improvised weapons (loose bricks, discarded bottles, particularly sturdy fish heads), or environmental hazards you can turn against attackers (unstable scaffolding, patches of slippery slime residue – use with extreme caution).
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Identify Assailants & Numbers (Rapidly): Determine who is attacking and how many. Are they professionals (coordinated movement, guild insignia) or opportunistic thugs (random flailing)? Knowing the threat level informs your next action (fight, flight, frantic negotiation).
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Fight or Flight Decision (Revisited): Reassess Module 35's triage under duress. Can you realistically handle the attackers given your current state, gear, and skills? If escape is viable, prioritize it. If cornered or protecting something vital, prepare to engage, focusing on disabling or deterring attackers quickly to create an escape opportunity. Prolonged stand-up fights against multiple opponents rarely favor the ambushed party.
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Controlled Aggression (If Fighting): Aim for vulnerable points (eyes, throat, joints – Section 92) or utilize area-denial tactics if possible (overturning obstacles, creating smoke/dust). Focus on one opponent at a time if feasible, creating openings. Don't get bogged down. The goal is survival and escape, not heroic last stands (unless dictated by Plot Armor?, which cannot be relied upon).
Post-Ambush Considerations:
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Assume you were meant to be captured or killed. The threat is likely ongoing.
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Assume your attackers have information about your routines or capabilities. Change them immediately.
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Assume your current location/route is compromised. Do not return.
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Seek immediate medical attention for injuries (Module 22).
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Re-evaluate your security protocols and information sources (Module 95). Who knew where you would be?
Surviving an ambush often relies on luck, quick reflexes, and exploiting fleeting opportunities. Preparation involves honing skills ([Awareness], [Dodge], basic combat competencies) and maintaining constant vigilance, even when you believe yourself safe. Complacency is the ambusher's greatest ally.
(Inkstained Prophet's Tactical Assessment: While theoretically sound, executing these maneuvers under sudden, violent duress with a sub-optimal LUK stat introduces significant chaotic variables. Expect the unexpected, and try not to trip into your own escape route.)
[Kevin's Story: Part 26 - Marked Man]
The information gleaned from Whispers settled like ice water in Kevin's gut. Sea Serpents at the temple, likely hunting for the cufflink now resting against his skin in the hidden pouch compartment. Finn silenced for playing both sides. Port Azure wasn't just dangerous; it was a minefield seeded specifically for him, or rather, for the ghost of Finn O'Malley he inhabited. The disrupted meeting with the broker, thanks to the LUK: ??? barrel incident, only amplified his paranoia. Had someone seen him? Had Whispers already sold his description?
He spent the next day deeper in hiding than ever, venturing out from under the pier only for absolute necessities, moving with excruciating caution. The [Minor Sprain] on his ankle had mostly faded, but a phantom ache remained, a reminder of his unreliable luck. He practiced gripping his [Sturdy Dagger (Fair Quality)], tried to recall the combat advice from the Guide, but the paranoia made concentration difficult. Every creak of the pier above, every distant shout, sounded like imminent doom.
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It happened as he was returning from a pre-dawn water run, navigating a particularly narrow, refuse-choked alley not far from the Mud Flats. He felt it before he saw it – that prickling sensation on the back of his neck, the subtle shift in the air that screamed wrongness. Module 117’s psychoactive warnings usually felt atmospheric; this felt personal, directed.
He quickened his pace, his hand hovering near his dagger. Too late.
Two figures dropped silently from the low roof of a leaning shack to block the alley ahead. Simultaneously, a third emerged from behind a pile of sodden fishing nets behind him, cutting off retreat. They moved with a fluid, predatory grace that spoke of training, utterly unlike the clumsy bullishness of the Wharf Rat thugs he’d encountered before. They wore dark, close-fitting leather gear, practical and silent, and though their faces were shadowed by hoods, Kevin caught the glint of metal – short swords or long daggers held ready. On the shoulder of one, barely visible in the gloom, was a small embroidered patch: a stylized, coiling serpent. Sea Serpents.
Found me. The thought was cold, sharp. How? Whispers? Or had they tracked him from the temple? No time for questions. Module 102 screamed in his mind: Break Contact! Environment! Assess!
He reacted instantly, not charging forward or backward, but sideways. He threw himself towards the leaning shack wall, hoping to use it as momentary cover or find a gap. His improved DEX (12) made the movement quick, but his volatile luck intervened immediately.
Ding!
[LUK ??? Effect Triggered: Evasive Maneuver -> Result: Collision with Unseen Obstacle (Loose Board), Minor Stumble, Temporary Loss of Balance.]
His foot caught on a loose piece of rotten planking hidden under the refuse. He stumbled, windmilling his arms, barely avoiding falling flat on his face. The stumble, however, put him just out of the immediate reach of the Serpent closing from behind. The attacker's lunge, aimed to grab or disable him, hissed through empty air.
The two blocking his path surged forward. Kevin recovered his balance, drawing his dagger. He faced two trained opponents, another at his back. Fight or flight? Flight seemed impossible. He was cornered.
He met the first attacker's blade with his own, the clang of steel shockingly loud in the narrow alley. He parried awkwardly – [Basic Street Brawling] Lv. 3 was leagues below trained swordsmanship – but his STR (11) lent surprising force to the block. The attacker seemed momentarily surprised Kevin didn’t just fold.
The second attacker circled, looking for an opening. The one behind crept closer. Kevin desperately scanned the environment. Rotting crates, piles of stinking refuse, the leaning shack wall… nothing obviously helpful.
He feinted left, then ducked low, attempting to sweep the legs of the Serpent directly engaging him. It was a clumsy, telegraphed move, easily avoided by the trained fighter, who responded with a swift kick aimed at Kevin's ribs.
Pain exploded in his side as the kick connected, stealing his breath. He staggered back against the refuse pile.
Ding!
[Damage Taken! HP: 19 -> 14]
[Status Effect Acquired: [Winded (Minor)] - Stamina regeneration temporarily halved.]
This was bad. He was hopelessly outclassed. As the Serpents closed in for the capture, likely intending to take him alive for questioning (about the cufflink? Finn? Whispers?), his unpredictable luck struck again, this time not against him.
The refuse pile he’d stumbled against, already overloaded and rotting, chose that precise moment to give way entirely. With a wet, tearing sound, a cascade of rancid fish guts, broken pottery shards, and indescribable filth surged outwards, directly into the path of the two closing Serpents.
Ding!
[LUK ??? Effect Triggered: Environmental Hazard (Collapsing Refuse Pile) -> Result: Sudden Obstacle/Area Denial, Sensory Impairment (Stench/Debris) for nearby entities, Minor Chaos.]
The Serpents cursed, momentarily stumbling back, gagging at the sudden, vile onslaught. Their coordinated attack dissolved into disgusted confusion. It wasn't much, but it was an opening.
Then, something else happened, so subtle Kevin almost missed it in the chaos. A single roof tile from the shack above, loosened perhaps by the earlier impact or just time, detached itself and fell. It didn't hit anyone directly, but it landed squarely on the hilt of the dagger belonging to the Serpent who had been circling behind Kevin, momentarily pinning the weapon against the cobblestones just as he was raising it for a flanking strike. The Serpent yelped in surprise and pain, fumbling to free his weapon.
Kevin stared for a fraction of a second. Was that… the Veteran? No message, no flashy effect, just… improbable physics working momentarily in his favor? Or just LUK ??? being aggressively weird?
No time to ponder. He seized the moment created by the refuse avalanche and the pinned dagger. Ignoring the pain in his ribs, he lunged, not at the Serpents, but through the gap between the two still dealing with the garbage surge. He shoved past one, the stench clinging to him, and sprinted down the alley, away from the temporary chaos.
He heard furious shouts behind him, the sounds of pursuit resuming, but he had a head start. He plunged into the labyrinthine alleys, pushing his body, ignoring the ache in his side and the lingering sprain. He didn't know where he was going, just away. He needed to disappear completely.
He ran until the sounds faded, until his lungs burned, until he finally collapsed in another unfamiliar, refuse-filled dead end, hidden behind a stack of leaky barrels. He was alive. He was free. But he was marked. The Sea Serpents knew who he was, or at least who Finn was, and they wanted him badly enough to send a skilled team. Hiding under a pier wasn't enough anymore. Port Azure was no longer a place he could survive. He had to get out. Now.