Bookie floated along, quite content to do his favorite thing. Annoy people. He pestered Firestorm constantly, asking questions to things he both didn't know and knew but asked just because he could. At last he reached the point where he thought that Firestorm might have an aneurysm from his rising blood pressure if he didn't stop. The fact that this coincided with a massive reptile had nothing to do with it, really.
"Well, here we have a large snake." Yes, that was painfully obvious and he knew it. "So, shall we get to it then?"
Bookie flipped open and turned pages until he reached near the middle of himself. At least fifteen pages ripped themselves out and condensed into an orb of paper before making the same white smoke and jack-in-the-box sound.
"Nacka yon?" said something within the smoke.
"English, Loric," replied the book as it closed itself again.
A blazing longsword dispersed the smoke, blue flame wreathing its entirety. The being was easily seven feet tall with white hair tinged with silver. Sapphire orbs were set into alabaster skin, flawless in the face. He wore sparse, tarnished silver armor and white leather tunic. His garb could easily be taken for a noble, with the fiery sword lending to the effect. But the most distinguishing feature of him was the folded wings on his back, their tips dyed silver. An Avian.
"I say again. Where am I?" said the winged man. He sighted the massive snake and growled to the book, "Reptile. So just because--"
"You're a Garuda, Avian, whatever, yes I called you. Your people have better luck with these things than most, so I figured why not?"
"And you could not deal with it yourself? I see you have friends with you this time A--"
"Say not my name, Loric of the Black Heart. My reasons are my own. You will call me Bookie."
The Avian pointed the tip of his blade at the floating book, who just floated there. "How dare you bring that up again. You are the one who refuses to finish my life, and I cannot atone until that time comes! And Bookie! A child's name for one with such an honorable title? Why do you not use it!"
The book coughed and said, "We'll discuss this later. Snake. Now."
Loric reluctantly turned and faced the massive reptile. The flames around his sword altered to white. "We most certainly will." His knees bent, and he launched into the air, wings spread wide in flight.
He shot at the snake, slashing it with the burning sword as he passed by what would serve as its neck. The thing hissed in pain and attempted to strike at him, but was thwarted by Loric's superior agility. He was in the air, this was his element.
"Try again, beast!" shouted the Avian as he went for another pass. He slashed at the head and banked to the side as he felt the blade barely even scratch it, with the serpent trying to strike him. This was going to take a while.
Bookie spun around a little to face the other members of the group and said, "Well, let's have at."
The Twilight Curse
-
The Willful Wanderer
- Member
- Posts: 2221
- Joined: Fri Mar 05, 2004 2:00 am
- Location: Aisle 12, between the kumquats and the radicchio.
Just a snake?
"I'ma curious about something, and since we're just gonna be waiting for a bit, might as well just go ahead and ask."
The monk tapped the dragoness' breastplate lightly.
"What's with the turtle?"
"Family crest." Reiko answered evenly, with a slight smile. "My family name is Kameno- 'of the turtle'. We have a... connection with the sea."
The shirtless man felt no need to even reaffirm that- he could feel it well enough. Reiko had a rather strong affinity for fire which was easily apparent to him, but even so slightly stronger was her orientation towards something considerably... opposed, by normal standards. He'd have to see what she turned up, yes.
**************
"'S a snake." Karna commented, nonplussed.
"A very large snake." Uldi corrected.
"Careful, it's likely to be extremely-" Firestorm was cut off by a rather loud impact, the earth jarring slightly. As one, the various travelers took a long look.
There stood Reiko, atop the serpent's head. The snake, for its part, seemed quite thoroughly stunned, and not a little bloodied by the two large feet sunk slightly into its skull. The large woman stood there atop the thing with her arms folded, seeming relatively unamused.
"....It is far too easy to forget that you outweigh small cars, Reiko." Uldi noted. "I will never understand how you handle that at this size."
Karna, on the other hand, eyed the immense reptile as she readied her naginata. "....That thing still alive?"
**WHAM** Went the serpent's tail, whipping about to knock Reiko off of it (and uproot a rather large number of trees in the process).
"Yes." Uldi answered, unneccessarily. "Though not likely for long."
The woodpile containing the quill-haired woman just groaned slightly, then sighed. "Why does everything have to pretend it's less tough than it is?"
"Like you never hold back." Karna sniped with a raised eyebrow, then charged in. Still dazed by having three tons of half-dragon (occupying only enough space for three hundred fifty pounds of a more normal entity) land on its head from a strenuous jump, the poor snake found itself quite unable to keep up with the tiny woman. This probably explained why the indigo-haired wanderer was able to not only evade six quick strikes, but quite simply chop off a good portion of hood with a deceptively powerful sweep of her polearm.
"...I feel unneccessary." Uldi opined, watching Karna work.
"I'ma curious about something, and since we're just gonna be waiting for a bit, might as well just go ahead and ask."
The monk tapped the dragoness' breastplate lightly.
"What's with the turtle?"
"Family crest." Reiko answered evenly, with a slight smile. "My family name is Kameno- 'of the turtle'. We have a... connection with the sea."
The shirtless man felt no need to even reaffirm that- he could feel it well enough. Reiko had a rather strong affinity for fire which was easily apparent to him, but even so slightly stronger was her orientation towards something considerably... opposed, by normal standards. He'd have to see what she turned up, yes.
**************
"'S a snake." Karna commented, nonplussed.
"A very large snake." Uldi corrected.
"Careful, it's likely to be extremely-" Firestorm was cut off by a rather loud impact, the earth jarring slightly. As one, the various travelers took a long look.
There stood Reiko, atop the serpent's head. The snake, for its part, seemed quite thoroughly stunned, and not a little bloodied by the two large feet sunk slightly into its skull. The large woman stood there atop the thing with her arms folded, seeming relatively unamused.
"....It is far too easy to forget that you outweigh small cars, Reiko." Uldi noted. "I will never understand how you handle that at this size."
Karna, on the other hand, eyed the immense reptile as she readied her naginata. "....That thing still alive?"
**WHAM** Went the serpent's tail, whipping about to knock Reiko off of it (and uproot a rather large number of trees in the process).
"Yes." Uldi answered, unneccessarily. "Though not likely for long."
The woodpile containing the quill-haired woman just groaned slightly, then sighed. "Why does everything have to pretend it's less tough than it is?"
"Like you never hold back." Karna sniped with a raised eyebrow, then charged in. Still dazed by having three tons of half-dragon (occupying only enough space for three hundred fifty pounds of a more normal entity) land on its head from a strenuous jump, the poor snake found itself quite unable to keep up with the tiny woman. This probably explained why the indigo-haired wanderer was able to not only evade six quick strikes, but quite simply chop off a good portion of hood with a deceptively powerful sweep of her polearm.
"...I feel unneccessary." Uldi opined, watching Karna work.
\"What if nothing means anything? What if nothing really matters?.....
...Or suppose <b><i>EVERYTHING</b></i> matters. Which would be worse?\"
-Calvin
\"Joke \'em if they can\'t take a f$%k.\"
...Or suppose <b><i>EVERYTHING</b></i> matters. Which would be worse?\"
-Calvin
\"Joke \'em if they can\'t take a f$%k.\"
-
Repster
- Member
- Posts: 6130
- Joined: Tue Jun 06, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: J'tun ostie d'Acadien.
Aidan stared at the thing for a moment. Well, looks like everything was well under control.
"I know how ya feel. Happens a lot when they're more then a few. Unneeded or not, might as well help things a long a wee bit."
He walked forward, quite calmly. What looked to be a simple fireball in hand, formed as perfect sphere. That was strange enough, the rate it's intensity increases was odd. It barely reached the bright orange as he stopped. His other hand tossed one a rather impotent flame at it. The snake turned, very slightly scorched, and annoyed by it. Aidan smirked as it open it's mouth and went to strike.
The monk looked into the maw, those fangs dripping poison and at the vey last moment, he took a step back and threw the orb in his hand. The snake bite down one his arm as the fireball went down it's gullet.
"Careful what you eat, I tend to give out heartburn "
He chuckled as the fireball exploded from within it. It bulged in one area and pulled back. It's shrill cry of pain could have been called blood curling, and fire under a grat amount of pressure found it's exit point as it shot from it's mouth harmlessly to anything but the snake's innards.
Aidan gave a powerful jerk to his arm, getting the thick venom off it. His flesh burned where it had been wounded, and were it burn it reformed. A scant moment later, his used that now healthy arm to take a swig of his flask. Then he lept, as a rather angry snaked ate at the turf where he had just stood. The bare chested man's fist collided with it's already damaged skull. He smirked, and waited. This thing was not very intelligent. Now. He moved. With raw acceleration that nothing the man had seen could match, he moved out of then way as the snakes tail smash into it's own head trying to remove him.
He landed gracefully, and waited. He guessed about six more seconds before it died. With Karna and the birdman hacking away at it, and whomever else was going to join in, he almost bet on it.
"I know how ya feel. Happens a lot when they're more then a few. Unneeded or not, might as well help things a long a wee bit."
He walked forward, quite calmly. What looked to be a simple fireball in hand, formed as perfect sphere. That was strange enough, the rate it's intensity increases was odd. It barely reached the bright orange as he stopped. His other hand tossed one a rather impotent flame at it. The snake turned, very slightly scorched, and annoyed by it. Aidan smirked as it open it's mouth and went to strike.
The monk looked into the maw, those fangs dripping poison and at the vey last moment, he took a step back and threw the orb in his hand. The snake bite down one his arm as the fireball went down it's gullet.
"Careful what you eat, I tend to give out heartburn "
He chuckled as the fireball exploded from within it. It bulged in one area and pulled back. It's shrill cry of pain could have been called blood curling, and fire under a grat amount of pressure found it's exit point as it shot from it's mouth harmlessly to anything but the snake's innards.
Aidan gave a powerful jerk to his arm, getting the thick venom off it. His flesh burned where it had been wounded, and were it burn it reformed. A scant moment later, his used that now healthy arm to take a swig of his flask. Then he lept, as a rather angry snaked ate at the turf where he had just stood. The bare chested man's fist collided with it's already damaged skull. He smirked, and waited. This thing was not very intelligent. Now. He moved. With raw acceleration that nothing the man had seen could match, he moved out of then way as the snakes tail smash into it's own head trying to remove him.
He landed gracefully, and waited. He guessed about six more seconds before it died. With Karna and the birdman hacking away at it, and whomever else was going to join in, he almost bet on it.
When our world is burning.
When all run like the cowards they are.
I shall stand in the inferno, and fight until I am consumed
When all run like the cowards they are.
I shall stand in the inferno, and fight until I am consumed
-
Firestorm
- Member
- Posts: 2332
- Joined: Wed Jul 12, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: An asylum for the criminally stupid
Passive
"Aren't you going to help, Jago?" Lynn questioned.
The giant just stood there, watching the carnage.
"Why bother?"
---------------------------
Firestorm's conversation with Ionic Fox ended abruptly as the snake rose from the underbrush. He sprung foward to catch up with the rest of the group.
After reaching a point where everyone could hear him, he shouted, "Careful, it's likely to be extremely..."
His sentence was interrupted by the distracting crash of the spiky one's landing on the serpent's cranium.
That's quite a jump she's got there.
The snake, however, was quite resilient and seemed to have no difficulty whipping its tail about to slap the half ton female off of its own eight ton body.
As Loric, Karna, and Aidan attacked the creature, Shurianno pulled a shuriken from under his sash.
I'm not about to be outdone by a freaking book!
The snake lunged toward Karna after she removed a sizable chunk of its fan. She did not need to dodge; the creature stopped its lunge as its left eye burst, the projectile lodged right next to its pupil.
------------------------
OoC: I'm going to wait until at least half our members attack to decide the snake is dead. Some folks have not posted again since their entrance, which is fine. I understand that some people have far less free time. But, if anyone goes for more than few days without at least reporting in, I will begin roleplaying their characters until they return.
Also, all these OoC's are going to be removed shortly.
"Aren't you going to help, Jago?" Lynn questioned.
The giant just stood there, watching the carnage.
"Why bother?"
---------------------------
Firestorm's conversation with Ionic Fox ended abruptly as the snake rose from the underbrush. He sprung foward to catch up with the rest of the group.
After reaching a point where everyone could hear him, he shouted, "Careful, it's likely to be extremely..."
His sentence was interrupted by the distracting crash of the spiky one's landing on the serpent's cranium.
That's quite a jump she's got there.
The snake, however, was quite resilient and seemed to have no difficulty whipping its tail about to slap the half ton female off of its own eight ton body.
As Loric, Karna, and Aidan attacked the creature, Shurianno pulled a shuriken from under his sash.
I'm not about to be outdone by a freaking book!
The snake lunged toward Karna after she removed a sizable chunk of its fan. She did not need to dodge; the creature stopped its lunge as its left eye burst, the projectile lodged right next to its pupil.
------------------------
OoC: I'm going to wait until at least half our members attack to decide the snake is dead. Some folks have not posted again since their entrance, which is fine. I understand that some people have far less free time. But, if anyone goes for more than few days without at least reporting in, I will begin roleplaying their characters until they return.
Also, all these OoC's are going to be removed shortly.
-
::Abbadon::
- Member
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Sat Jun 23, 2007 8:04 pm
- Location: Vegas
time to attack
"Ahhh, yes, I guess Its my turn I see!"
Abbadon levitated himself to the air, slowly.
“Abbadon!!!! Would you get over here and help!!!” Karna snapped
Abbadon raised his eyebrow quite annoyed by the interruption of his graceful decent into battle..
“Yes, Yes…..Fire Incantum!!!!
Suddenly Abbadon was consumed with fire all around him.
“I’m quite hot wouldn’t you say?”, as he smiled to Lynn.
He then jumped on to the snakes neck right under the roof of the snakes mouth. The snake began to hiss with pain as his lower jaw caught on fire. The snake began to shake it head wildly trying to shake Abbadon off. Finally the snake slammed his head down and smothered abandon’s fire. Abbadon then conjured, by magic, a long pike covered with dark blue flames and thrusted it at the snake's head. It hit directly into the snakes left eye. The snake writhed in pain at the flaming blue pike sticking out of his eye as well as the others hacking away at it. The snake's life was slowly leaving him as the attacks from the team did not cease.
Abbadon was at his happiest killing things... and... quite happy he was…
"Ahhh, yes, I guess Its my turn I see!"
Abbadon levitated himself to the air, slowly.
“Abbadon!!!! Would you get over here and help!!!” Karna snapped
Abbadon raised his eyebrow quite annoyed by the interruption of his graceful decent into battle..
“Yes, Yes…..Fire Incantum!!!!
Suddenly Abbadon was consumed with fire all around him.
“I’m quite hot wouldn’t you say?”, as he smiled to Lynn.
He then jumped on to the snakes neck right under the roof of the snakes mouth. The snake began to hiss with pain as his lower jaw caught on fire. The snake began to shake it head wildly trying to shake Abbadon off. Finally the snake slammed his head down and smothered abandon’s fire. Abbadon then conjured, by magic, a long pike covered with dark blue flames and thrusted it at the snake's head. It hit directly into the snakes left eye. The snake writhed in pain at the flaming blue pike sticking out of his eye as well as the others hacking away at it. The snake's life was slowly leaving him as the attacks from the team did not cease.
Abbadon was at his happiest killing things... and... quite happy he was…
-
Jedi Knight
- Member
- Posts: 2291
- Joined: Fri Aug 04, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...
the smell of sunshine
i remember sometimes
* * *
The darkness around the Jedi throbbed with the sound of insectine humming as she lay curled in the windowsill, resting her forehead against the transparisteel viewport. One finger delicately traced the cascading letters on the screen of a datapad she was perusing, but from time to time her eyes flitted from the blue lettering to the expansive planet slumbering beyond the pane.
The whisper moved through her consciousness like ripples through the glassy surface of a pond, and the datapad clattered to the floor.
Sheharazhad.
She shivered, although the night was warm, and felt the back of her neck prickle with gooseflesh.
There's a name I haven't heard in awhile.
In her mind's eye, she swayed down the sconce-lit hallway in a glittering black column gown, a whisper of shimmersilk betraying her steps. Tonight, months of espionage would come to an end, and the Republic would deliver the coup de grâce to one strong arm of the organization known as the Black Sun. Fighting the crime syndicate was like battling a hydra, where each successful advance merely marked the growth of several more insidious branches. Immersed in the mission, and isolated from the Jedi, she'd lost count as the weeks trickled past, each day twined into the next like links in a chain. She slept during the hottest part of the day, and during the night..
She bristled as a Corellian man slipped from a doorway behind her, and in the next instant he had pressed her against the wall. Roughly, his hands slid over her hips, gripping her tightly around the waist. She heard the clinking of credits, not chips, in his pockets.
He spoke in a hoarse whisper. "You have a lovely voice.. how about an encore performance?"
She turned her face aside as his hot breath fanned her neck. The fumes were dizzying; incredibly, he could still stand. She pushed against his inflexible bulk with the palms of her hands and felt, rather than saw, him leer.
"Xaato," she wailed softly, in a plaintive voice unlike her own. A Twi'lek male watched interestedly as he relaxed on a couch in an adjacent room, but made no move to intervene.
Within a matter of seconds, the Toydarian bartender had emerged at the end of the hallway, still resolutely polishing a glass with a graying rag. She could smell the sweet, spicy scent of the Toydarian's sweat as clearly as a spoken word, borne on the draft of his furiously beating wings. "'Ey! You keepin' your hands off the entertainment, eh, or I choppin' them off!" He brandished the glass menacingly.
The man released her (none too gently) and sulked off, as Xaato's eyes bored into his back; Sheharazhad sagged against the wall. "And you, eh, Shirensu, eh.. get lost," he intoned, with a wheezy cackle. "You are making the customers difficult, they don't, eh.. want to close."
She pulled her cloak from the stand by the door and threw it around her shoulders. The credit chip her would-be assailant had slipped into her hand seared her palm with its coolness, but as she walked, turning it over between her fingers, it warmed to her skin.
As she slid her thumb over the eleven-digit identification on the side of the chip, she traced the numbers engraved in her mind. 9. 4. 3. 3. 8. 7. 2. 5. 6. 0. 1.
It is finished, then. Here is the sign I was promised.
Her heels tapped the ferrocrete walkway as she strolled past the shuttered Lower City shops.
Shirensu. 'Silence,' the name itself as enigmatic as the character she had played, until tonight. She climbed a durasteel stairway, wound around an ancient building with a crumbling façade. When she reached the apartment at the top of the stairs, she pressed her thumb into what looked to be a standard thumbprint-type scanner, but would in actuality evaluate the user's midichlorian count against a stored value in its database. Her identity couldn't be faked quite as effectively that way.
The apartment was empty and unwelcoming; the only piece of furniture, the unmade sleep couch. There was only one window, but the view wasn't bad for this part of Coruscant. A narrow walkway subtended the chasm plunging steeply between the two buildings; overhead, the distant pinpricks of glowlamps might have been mistaken for stars.
Sheharazhad had been preparing her report on the reconnaissance data, as she was expected to debrief the council on her mission later that day. A small contingent of Jedi would collect and escort her to the Temple around 0800. Another datapad lay beside her report, an unfinished letter, which read:
I've missed you. I'm sorry it took so long for this letter to reach you.
I've only just now returned. I'll tell you more when I talk to you, but I'm sure you'll probably guess the details before I've even begun the story, with that wheels-within-wheels brain of yours. And anyway, I won't be the first one to give you the news, though you may find my take on it to be fairly amusing.
When can I see you again? Sorry I couldn't meet you for some sightseeing on Dorumaa, I was really looking forward to it. Scheduling anything is nearly impossible, so I'll probably just sneak away. They can't miss me too terribly for a week or two.
I hope this letter finds you well. Please do try to
The Jedi slid both datapads into her pocket, and allowed her eyes to travel one last time around the apartment before lifting the hood of her cloak around her face and stepping out into the graying dawn.
* * *
Her boots sank soundlessly into the springy earth of the Gunjin as space and time twisted around her at the behest of the Force. Although she may not have set foot in the field for months, it didn't seem she'd altered (pun intended) her sackcloth fashion sense in any way. The supple black boots, the pearl gray tunic and pants, the white turtleneck beneath were all the same, or (let's hope) merely similar. The double-bladed lightsaber still hung at her side, remarkable currently only through the slightly elongated hilt and the distinctive wrapped wire design.
However, that is not to say her appearance had been entirely unchanged.
More than one onlooker had done a double take, as the newcomer strongly resembled the Jedi save for a handful of discrepancies, as though she had been copied but with deliberate mistakes: most notably, her hair had been dyed silvery blonde. Although this had been a necessary part of shedding her identity, she had greeted the prospect mutinously, to say the least. (Ad verbatim, "This is so wrong.") Eye drops and creams had been used to wash the color from her skin and irises, leaving her with a milky complexion and pale gray eyes. (Incidentally, the Jedi in charge of disguising her had ruefully remarked that it was unfortunate nothing could be done about 'those pointy elfish ears'. This resulted in an affronted Sheharazhad threatening her with roughly thirty-six hours of dental surgery to correct the damage she was about to cause.)
Although the drops and cream would begin to fade within seventy-two hours of application, she suspected, much to her dismay, the hair color would take several thorough washes to remove. Sheharazhad peered around furtively, hoping Madness was not present, as she suspected the temptation would prove too great to resist.
Breathing a silent (but heartfelt) sigh of relief, she spotted Firestorm some ways off, engrossed in conversation with Fox. She felt her heart lodge in her throat. Although Sheharazhad had certainly felt at home at the Temple, she couldn't truthfully say she had belonged there, though she knew she belonged to the path. It was only here that she had ever truly felt a part of the company.
* * *
The quietude, as usual, was short-lived. A rumble of the earth bespoke an approaching presence; a very large approaching presence.
The Jedi unclipped the lightsaber from her belt and ignited it, twin heliotrope loops boiling from the hilt as she prepared to flank the other warriors as they approached the hissing, swaying serpent. The weakest point of the snake, she imagined, would be its eyes. She would wait for the opportunity, and then she would strike.
[OoC: Whew. Okay. So I ended up having a chat with Firestorm about whether or not I could still hop into the topic, and I realize that I am arriving late and I feel really horrible about it, so I'll try to make it up to you by posting earlier, in the future. /cookie if you get the reference at the beginning, forgive me if I've said anything particularly stupid, and my god, FS, that is one hell of a first post. Does it EAT people?]
i remember sometimes
* * *
The darkness around the Jedi throbbed with the sound of insectine humming as she lay curled in the windowsill, resting her forehead against the transparisteel viewport. One finger delicately traced the cascading letters on the screen of a datapad she was perusing, but from time to time her eyes flitted from the blue lettering to the expansive planet slumbering beyond the pane.
The whisper moved through her consciousness like ripples through the glassy surface of a pond, and the datapad clattered to the floor.
Sheharazhad.
She shivered, although the night was warm, and felt the back of her neck prickle with gooseflesh.
There's a name I haven't heard in awhile.
In her mind's eye, she swayed down the sconce-lit hallway in a glittering black column gown, a whisper of shimmersilk betraying her steps. Tonight, months of espionage would come to an end, and the Republic would deliver the coup de grâce to one strong arm of the organization known as the Black Sun. Fighting the crime syndicate was like battling a hydra, where each successful advance merely marked the growth of several more insidious branches. Immersed in the mission, and isolated from the Jedi, she'd lost count as the weeks trickled past, each day twined into the next like links in a chain. She slept during the hottest part of the day, and during the night..
She bristled as a Corellian man slipped from a doorway behind her, and in the next instant he had pressed her against the wall. Roughly, his hands slid over her hips, gripping her tightly around the waist. She heard the clinking of credits, not chips, in his pockets.
He spoke in a hoarse whisper. "You have a lovely voice.. how about an encore performance?"
She turned her face aside as his hot breath fanned her neck. The fumes were dizzying; incredibly, he could still stand. She pushed against his inflexible bulk with the palms of her hands and felt, rather than saw, him leer.
"Xaato," she wailed softly, in a plaintive voice unlike her own. A Twi'lek male watched interestedly as he relaxed on a couch in an adjacent room, but made no move to intervene.
Within a matter of seconds, the Toydarian bartender had emerged at the end of the hallway, still resolutely polishing a glass with a graying rag. She could smell the sweet, spicy scent of the Toydarian's sweat as clearly as a spoken word, borne on the draft of his furiously beating wings. "'Ey! You keepin' your hands off the entertainment, eh, or I choppin' them off!" He brandished the glass menacingly.
The man released her (none too gently) and sulked off, as Xaato's eyes bored into his back; Sheharazhad sagged against the wall. "And you, eh, Shirensu, eh.. get lost," he intoned, with a wheezy cackle. "You are making the customers difficult, they don't, eh.. want to close."
She pulled her cloak from the stand by the door and threw it around her shoulders. The credit chip her would-be assailant had slipped into her hand seared her palm with its coolness, but as she walked, turning it over between her fingers, it warmed to her skin.
As she slid her thumb over the eleven-digit identification on the side of the chip, she traced the numbers engraved in her mind. 9. 4. 3. 3. 8. 7. 2. 5. 6. 0. 1.
It is finished, then. Here is the sign I was promised.
Her heels tapped the ferrocrete walkway as she strolled past the shuttered Lower City shops.
Shirensu. 'Silence,' the name itself as enigmatic as the character she had played, until tonight. She climbed a durasteel stairway, wound around an ancient building with a crumbling façade. When she reached the apartment at the top of the stairs, she pressed her thumb into what looked to be a standard thumbprint-type scanner, but would in actuality evaluate the user's midichlorian count against a stored value in its database. Her identity couldn't be faked quite as effectively that way.
The apartment was empty and unwelcoming; the only piece of furniture, the unmade sleep couch. There was only one window, but the view wasn't bad for this part of Coruscant. A narrow walkway subtended the chasm plunging steeply between the two buildings; overhead, the distant pinpricks of glowlamps might have been mistaken for stars.
Sheharazhad had been preparing her report on the reconnaissance data, as she was expected to debrief the council on her mission later that day. A small contingent of Jedi would collect and escort her to the Temple around 0800. Another datapad lay beside her report, an unfinished letter, which read:
I've missed you. I'm sorry it took so long for this letter to reach you.
I've only just now returned. I'll tell you more when I talk to you, but I'm sure you'll probably guess the details before I've even begun the story, with that wheels-within-wheels brain of yours. And anyway, I won't be the first one to give you the news, though you may find my take on it to be fairly amusing.
When can I see you again? Sorry I couldn't meet you for some sightseeing on Dorumaa, I was really looking forward to it. Scheduling anything is nearly impossible, so I'll probably just sneak away. They can't miss me too terribly for a week or two.
I hope this letter finds you well. Please do try to
The Jedi slid both datapads into her pocket, and allowed her eyes to travel one last time around the apartment before lifting the hood of her cloak around her face and stepping out into the graying dawn.
* * *
Her boots sank soundlessly into the springy earth of the Gunjin as space and time twisted around her at the behest of the Force. Although she may not have set foot in the field for months, it didn't seem she'd altered (pun intended) her sackcloth fashion sense in any way. The supple black boots, the pearl gray tunic and pants, the white turtleneck beneath were all the same, or (let's hope) merely similar. The double-bladed lightsaber still hung at her side, remarkable currently only through the slightly elongated hilt and the distinctive wrapped wire design.
However, that is not to say her appearance had been entirely unchanged.
More than one onlooker had done a double take, as the newcomer strongly resembled the Jedi save for a handful of discrepancies, as though she had been copied but with deliberate mistakes: most notably, her hair had been dyed silvery blonde. Although this had been a necessary part of shedding her identity, she had greeted the prospect mutinously, to say the least. (Ad verbatim, "This is so wrong.") Eye drops and creams had been used to wash the color from her skin and irises, leaving her with a milky complexion and pale gray eyes. (Incidentally, the Jedi in charge of disguising her had ruefully remarked that it was unfortunate nothing could be done about 'those pointy elfish ears'. This resulted in an affronted Sheharazhad threatening her with roughly thirty-six hours of dental surgery to correct the damage she was about to cause.)
Although the drops and cream would begin to fade within seventy-two hours of application, she suspected, much to her dismay, the hair color would take several thorough washes to remove. Sheharazhad peered around furtively, hoping Madness was not present, as she suspected the temptation would prove too great to resist.
Breathing a silent (but heartfelt) sigh of relief, she spotted Firestorm some ways off, engrossed in conversation with Fox. She felt her heart lodge in her throat. Although Sheharazhad had certainly felt at home at the Temple, she couldn't truthfully say she had belonged there, though she knew she belonged to the path. It was only here that she had ever truly felt a part of the company.
* * *
The quietude, as usual, was short-lived. A rumble of the earth bespoke an approaching presence; a very large approaching presence.
The Jedi unclipped the lightsaber from her belt and ignited it, twin heliotrope loops boiling from the hilt as she prepared to flank the other warriors as they approached the hissing, swaying serpent. The weakest point of the snake, she imagined, would be its eyes. She would wait for the opportunity, and then she would strike.
[OoC: Whew. Okay. So I ended up having a chat with Firestorm about whether or not I could still hop into the topic, and I realize that I am arriving late and I feel really horrible about it, so I'll try to make it up to you by posting earlier, in the future. /cookie if you get the reference at the beginning, forgive me if I've said anything particularly stupid, and my god, FS, that is one hell of a first post. Does it EAT people?]
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Ionic Fox
- Member
- Posts: 77
- Joined: Fri Mar 16, 2001 2:00 am
- Location: Classified
[OoC: HOLY SH-... hi again, JK. I apologize that my writing skills have crumbled into so much dust.]
Firestorm pulled the one called Ionic Fox away from the rest of the group. The crunch of leaves under their feet was barely noticeable as they separated themselves from their companions for a moment of privacy.
“Tell me, Ionic Fox, did you know my friend, the Jedi?”
Fox stopped him. “Just Fox will do fine, Firestorm.”
“Very well, Fox. Now, as to my question?”
Fox turned, his back now facing Firestorm, as he crossed his arms. To anyone looking at the agent, they would have seen him displaying an unusual mixture of both sadness and fond remembrance, his eyes scanning the sky as if some answer lie amongst the heavens. "No, I didn't know her," he finally spoke, "I do know her. In my line of business, there's a very important distinction." He closed his eyes for a moment, as an involuntary image of her utter destruction at the hands of a superweapon tore through the mental defenses he'd erected since that day. "Unfortunately, in my line of business, there's also a very large difference between being able to prove that I do, and only being able to prove that I did...."
"I lost contact with her about a year ago. For a normal agent, I could believe them going into deep cover, but this was... this was Shehar! She would send me letters just about a particular koan she had found in the Jedi Archives! She'd never just break contact with me like that! Not unless..." The agent's voice was beginning to increase in hysteria, and apparently he must have realized it as such, as he suddenly stopped, and simply exhaled, a sharp whistling occurring from the air he forced through his clenched teeth. "At first I merely was content to hold off further investigation, but then I..."
Again he stopped his speech short. "I'm afraid anything further than that is pretty heavily classified. So I'll leave you with this. I do know her, Firestorm, I do know-"
The hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on edge, and he whipped about, immediately focusing on a lone figure standing at the very edge of his vision, her grey tunic blending in with the twilight sky. To Fox, it was like a ghost had appeared. Even as he spotted the large snake out of the corner of his eye, drawing his katana in a flash of steel and moving around to the rear of the monster, he couldn't deny what he had seen. The details had changed, but there was no mistaking...
her.
Firestorm pulled the one called Ionic Fox away from the rest of the group. The crunch of leaves under their feet was barely noticeable as they separated themselves from their companions for a moment of privacy.
“Tell me, Ionic Fox, did you know my friend, the Jedi?”
Fox stopped him. “Just Fox will do fine, Firestorm.”
“Very well, Fox. Now, as to my question?”
Fox turned, his back now facing Firestorm, as he crossed his arms. To anyone looking at the agent, they would have seen him displaying an unusual mixture of both sadness and fond remembrance, his eyes scanning the sky as if some answer lie amongst the heavens. "No, I didn't know her," he finally spoke, "I do know her. In my line of business, there's a very important distinction." He closed his eyes for a moment, as an involuntary image of her utter destruction at the hands of a superweapon tore through the mental defenses he'd erected since that day. "Unfortunately, in my line of business, there's also a very large difference between being able to prove that I do, and only being able to prove that I did...."
"I lost contact with her about a year ago. For a normal agent, I could believe them going into deep cover, but this was... this was Shehar! She would send me letters just about a particular koan she had found in the Jedi Archives! She'd never just break contact with me like that! Not unless..." The agent's voice was beginning to increase in hysteria, and apparently he must have realized it as such, as he suddenly stopped, and simply exhaled, a sharp whistling occurring from the air he forced through his clenched teeth. "At first I merely was content to hold off further investigation, but then I..."
Again he stopped his speech short. "I'm afraid anything further than that is pretty heavily classified. So I'll leave you with this. I do know her, Firestorm, I do know-"
The hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on edge, and he whipped about, immediately focusing on a lone figure standing at the very edge of his vision, her grey tunic blending in with the twilight sky. To Fox, it was like a ghost had appeared. Even as he spotted the large snake out of the corner of his eye, drawing his katana in a flash of steel and moving around to the rear of the monster, he couldn't deny what he had seen. The details had changed, but there was no mistaking...
her.
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Wyborn
- Member
- Posts: 12269
- Joined: Fri Jun 16, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: All over the place
OoC: Sorry, guys, I can't post at the moment, but I will in the next round.
GO ON WITHOUT ME, I'LL CATCH UP! -OoC
GO ON WITHOUT ME, I'LL CATCH UP! -OoC
Help me out with the best fanfiction ever, Ganondorf Beats Up EVERYONE! You decide who gets beaten!
For the battle-minded and mathematically inclined, there's the Hyrulian War, a revived time-honored tradition!
For the battle-minded and mathematically inclined, there's the Hyrulian War, a revived time-honored tradition!
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Firestorm
- Member
- Posts: 2332
- Joined: Wed Jul 12, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: An asylum for the criminally stupid
Overkill
OoC: ^^See that one coming, Fox?
-----------------------
Again he stopped his speech short. "I'm afraid anything further than that is pretty heavily classified. So I'll leave you with this. I do know her, Firestorm, I do know-"
Classified? In other words, he doesn’t trust me. Not that I really blame him; we’ve known each other maybe two minutes now.
His thoughts were interrupted by two things: the appearance of the Jedi in question, as well as the appearance of an absurdly large snake. The snake took precedence, however, and Firestorm warned the rest of the group of the serpent’s presence.
Not that it really mattered.
The serpent creature emitted an ear splitting shriek as it died. It crashed into the underbrush, having been stomped, hacked, fried, sniped, and stabbed beyond any chance of survival. The entire exchange, starting when Reiko fractured its cranium and finishing when Fox impaled its brain from behind, had lasted about four seconds. All this was done with less than half the party present actually doing anything. As the snake stopped moving, Firestorm moaned inside himself; he had secretly hoped the snake would distract everyone long enough for him to get his thoughts together.
True, he had been the one who called her, but that was as far as he had thought it out. He wasn’t quite sure what to say to her, now.
Great, here she comes. What am I supposed to say?
Her changed appearance didn’t seem to bother him. In fact, he did not even notice. Having switched bodies randomly for most of his life made him accustomed to drastic physical changes.
Have to say something, I guess./i]
“.... hi.”
Sheharazhad hesitated, unsure of what his abruptness was supposed to mean. She thought for a moment before answering.
“That’s.... that’s a pretty warm greeting, given the mysterious six year absence. But it’s not quite right. You meant to do this!”
And before he could object, he was being hugged. Her arms wrapped around him just above the waist. He made no motion to stop her, but he did not raise his arms from his side, either. He remained stiff and motionless as she embraced his warmth, and said nothing. Finding her action unreciprocated, she slowly released him and backed up a step. She was now the second person to note the change in his eyes; they were not bright and optimistic anymore. Instead, he looked... cold?
What... what happened to him?!
“Right... that’s what I meant to do. Sorry. It’s good to see you’re still alive, Sheharazhad, I missed you too. Let me fill you in on our reasons for being here.”
“....
.....
....okay.”
She did not even try to mask the disappointment in her voice at his rapid changing of the subject.
The Firestorm I knew would never have called me Sheharazhad...
--------------------------
WHAT? My snake! How’d they kill it?! Fine then. Something bigger! And meaner too! If a natural beast can’t stop them, I’ll conjure something from the underworld!!
--------------------------
It was clear to the Jedi from talking with Firestorm while they descended the mountain that he was being disturbed by something. He was not cracking jokes or goofing off or anything remotely close to humorous, which was eerie. He used to maintain a goofball nature even when facing the most dangerous situations. She vaguely noticed that she was no longer fighting with the underbrush; they had arrived on level plains. The drawbridge was a minute’s walk from where they stood.
This enemy we’re up against couldn’t be troubling him, could it? There must be more to it.
He rambled on about his battle plans, not seeming to notice her serious expression. His feet made rythmic thumps on the ground, mechanical and precise. He was oblivious to the worry he was causing.
“...afterwards. He’s obviously hiding up in the keep, so we’ll have to figu...”
She suddenly jumped in front of him, forcing him to look up at her. Her concerned look snapped him back to reality.
“Firestorm.... please tell me what’s wrong! You’re not you... where’s my old buddy?”
He winced. Hearing this from her definitely hit home, probably more than it would have from anyone else. He scanned his eyes across the ground now, avoiding her gaze.
“... I’ll be okay, Sheharazhad. [I’m a liar, now, too.] We just need to focus on the mission at hand.”
He’s lying to me. Why?
The guilty look he tried to hide was still visible, even through his attempted poker face. He shuffled his feet, then walked around her.
I can’t take this...
I can’t take this...
She took this moment to look for Ionic Fox.
------------------------------------
”We have arrived. I do not wish to swim through that muck. No telling what kind of creatures lurk under the surface. Shall we lower the bridge?”
“No, you shall not!” Lukios’ voice cackled from above them.
As the group craned their necks to see him, he descended from between two clouds. The gray clouds were dark, but he was still easily visible. The most startling feature about him was his size, or lack thereof. He was maybe three feet tall, if that, and he wore a royal purple robe. He had green scaly skin, but he held himself erect. He looked like an alligator walking upright, hovering in the sky about fifty feet above them and carrying a nondescript staff.
“Lukios...” Firestorm muttered.
“Is this guy gonna be a problem?” Abbadon asked.
“Maybe. He was pretty pathetic last time I saw him. And he looks the same now. Did we hurt your snake, Lukios?”
“SHUT UP!” he screamed in a shrill, childlike voice, “You got the snake, but you won’t get this guy! Come to me!!”
There was no response.
At first.
Then, the surface of the moat began to tremble, as though a giant were walking nearby. Underneath the surface of the water, a silhouette took form, swimming around just under the surface. It was vaguely humanoid, having arms and legs, but it was huge. It also had a tail, which seemed to rocket it through the water like a propellor.
The first part to emerge was a fin, cutting through the water like a kite through the air. The fin was gray, and so was the body that followed. The head poked up next, followed by the large tri-pointed tail. Finally, the slender legs surfaced as the creature exited the surface of the water like a dolphin. The monster flipped forward one time in the air before landing on dry land. The creature was not quite as large as the snake, some fifteen feet tall. However, it was far more intimidating. It was covered in spiky fins and scales all over, like a child’s portrait of a sharkman. The creature was now easily recognizable as an aquatic demon, a very strong and very fast type of demon. It was also extremely poisonous. The sludge from the moat dripped off as the creature sized up the group.
However...
OoC: ^^See that one coming, Fox?
-----------------------
Again he stopped his speech short. "I'm afraid anything further than that is pretty heavily classified. So I'll leave you with this. I do know her, Firestorm, I do know-"
Classified? In other words, he doesn’t trust me. Not that I really blame him; we’ve known each other maybe two minutes now.
His thoughts were interrupted by two things: the appearance of the Jedi in question, as well as the appearance of an absurdly large snake. The snake took precedence, however, and Firestorm warned the rest of the group of the serpent’s presence.
Not that it really mattered.
The serpent creature emitted an ear splitting shriek as it died. It crashed into the underbrush, having been stomped, hacked, fried, sniped, and stabbed beyond any chance of survival. The entire exchange, starting when Reiko fractured its cranium and finishing when Fox impaled its brain from behind, had lasted about four seconds. All this was done with less than half the party present actually doing anything. As the snake stopped moving, Firestorm moaned inside himself; he had secretly hoped the snake would distract everyone long enough for him to get his thoughts together.
True, he had been the one who called her, but that was as far as he had thought it out. He wasn’t quite sure what to say to her, now.
Great, here she comes. What am I supposed to say?
Her changed appearance didn’t seem to bother him. In fact, he did not even notice. Having switched bodies randomly for most of his life made him accustomed to drastic physical changes.
Have to say something, I guess./i]
“.... hi.”
Sheharazhad hesitated, unsure of what his abruptness was supposed to mean. She thought for a moment before answering.
“That’s.... that’s a pretty warm greeting, given the mysterious six year absence. But it’s not quite right. You meant to do this!”
And before he could object, he was being hugged. Her arms wrapped around him just above the waist. He made no motion to stop her, but he did not raise his arms from his side, either. He remained stiff and motionless as she embraced his warmth, and said nothing. Finding her action unreciprocated, she slowly released him and backed up a step. She was now the second person to note the change in his eyes; they were not bright and optimistic anymore. Instead, he looked... cold?
What... what happened to him?!
“Right... that’s what I meant to do. Sorry. It’s good to see you’re still alive, Sheharazhad, I missed you too. Let me fill you in on our reasons for being here.”
“....
.....
....okay.”
She did not even try to mask the disappointment in her voice at his rapid changing of the subject.
The Firestorm I knew would never have called me Sheharazhad...
--------------------------
WHAT? My snake! How’d they kill it?! Fine then. Something bigger! And meaner too! If a natural beast can’t stop them, I’ll conjure something from the underworld!!
--------------------------
It was clear to the Jedi from talking with Firestorm while they descended the mountain that he was being disturbed by something. He was not cracking jokes or goofing off or anything remotely close to humorous, which was eerie. He used to maintain a goofball nature even when facing the most dangerous situations. She vaguely noticed that she was no longer fighting with the underbrush; they had arrived on level plains. The drawbridge was a minute’s walk from where they stood.
This enemy we’re up against couldn’t be troubling him, could it? There must be more to it.
He rambled on about his battle plans, not seeming to notice her serious expression. His feet made rythmic thumps on the ground, mechanical and precise. He was oblivious to the worry he was causing.
“...afterwards. He’s obviously hiding up in the keep, so we’ll have to figu...”
She suddenly jumped in front of him, forcing him to look up at her. Her concerned look snapped him back to reality.
“Firestorm.... please tell me what’s wrong! You’re not you... where’s my old buddy?”
He winced. Hearing this from her definitely hit home, probably more than it would have from anyone else. He scanned his eyes across the ground now, avoiding her gaze.
“... I’ll be okay, Sheharazhad. [I’m a liar, now, too.] We just need to focus on the mission at hand.”
He’s lying to me. Why?
The guilty look he tried to hide was still visible, even through his attempted poker face. He shuffled his feet, then walked around her.
I can’t take this...
I can’t take this...
She took this moment to look for Ionic Fox.
------------------------------------
”We have arrived. I do not wish to swim through that muck. No telling what kind of creatures lurk under the surface. Shall we lower the bridge?”
“No, you shall not!” Lukios’ voice cackled from above them.
As the group craned their necks to see him, he descended from between two clouds. The gray clouds were dark, but he was still easily visible. The most startling feature about him was his size, or lack thereof. He was maybe three feet tall, if that, and he wore a royal purple robe. He had green scaly skin, but he held himself erect. He looked like an alligator walking upright, hovering in the sky about fifty feet above them and carrying a nondescript staff.
“Lukios...” Firestorm muttered.
“Is this guy gonna be a problem?” Abbadon asked.
“Maybe. He was pretty pathetic last time I saw him. And he looks the same now. Did we hurt your snake, Lukios?”
“SHUT UP!” he screamed in a shrill, childlike voice, “You got the snake, but you won’t get this guy! Come to me!!”
There was no response.
At first.
Then, the surface of the moat began to tremble, as though a giant were walking nearby. Underneath the surface of the water, a silhouette took form, swimming around just under the surface. It was vaguely humanoid, having arms and legs, but it was huge. It also had a tail, which seemed to rocket it through the water like a propellor.
The first part to emerge was a fin, cutting through the water like a kite through the air. The fin was gray, and so was the body that followed. The head poked up next, followed by the large tri-pointed tail. Finally, the slender legs surfaced as the creature exited the surface of the water like a dolphin. The monster flipped forward one time in the air before landing on dry land. The creature was not quite as large as the snake, some fifteen feet tall. However, it was far more intimidating. It was covered in spiky fins and scales all over, like a child’s portrait of a sharkman. The creature was now easily recognizable as an aquatic demon, a very strong and very fast type of demon. It was also extremely poisonous. The sludge from the moat dripped off as the creature sized up the group.
However...
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Firestorm
- Member
- Posts: 2332
- Joined: Wed Jul 12, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: An asylum for the criminally stupid
Divide and Conquer
A mere nine seconds was all it took for the group to give the same beating to this creature that had been delivered to the first, despite the fact that everyone attacked this time. Even pacifistic Jago took a swing at it, powderizing a thigh bone. Abbadon’s attempt to control the creature failed; perhaps it was not all demon?
The creature died as quickly as it appeared, collapsing to the ground in multiple pieces as no fewer than seven bladed weapons returned to their sheaths. Demon-tainted blood spilled from the creature, turning the healthy green grass to a decayed brown as the bile poured out.
Lukios was stunned. One of his favorite minions had been chopped apart like a large tomato, the slices decorating the ground.
I’ll... I’ll have to split them up! They’re WAY too strong when they’re all together!
The demon’s corpse writhed on the ground as it evaporated. Lukios’ pondering was interrupted by a talking book issuing orders:
“Loric! Grab that guy before he runs off!”
Loric immediately sprung from the ground, lunging toward the hovering pest. He came flying towards Lukios with a grand ascent, planning to seize his ankles and drag him to the ground.
“Oh no you don’t!” the runt squealed, pointing his staff downwards, “{Hindrance!}”
The effects of Lukios’ enchantment took effect immediately, though nothing visibly changed. The only detectable result was that Loric’s upward momentum immediately ceased. As he prematurely reached the apex of his flight, he found that his wings could no longer catch any air. He began plummeting toward the ground from thirty-five feet up.
Bookie, who had still been hovering at this point, felt the effects also, as gravity, which he had been ignoring up til now, suddenly gripped him. The invisible hand of the planet jerked him to the earth. He did not say anything upon landing; books probably do not feel pain anyway.
Loric, on the other hand, was not so lucky. He landed with a disturbing crunch as multiple bones were broken from the impact. He rolled over on the grass and looked up at the now hysterically laughing Lukios.
“Got you! Got you! I got you! Ahahaha!”
“Although I’ve only known this person for ten seconds, “ Lucius reflected, “I already hate him.”
“With good reason,” Uldi confirmed.
“Come in, come in! Hee hee hee. I trust you’ll feel right at home!”
Lukios levitated over the castle wall, disappearing from view. He would be gone by the time they could cross the drawbridge. Firestorm knelt in the grass next to the downed Loric.
“Can you walk, Loric?” Firestorm questioned.
“Yeah... maybe. Hold on.”
Loric placed the blade of his sword on the ground and used it to haul himself to his feet. He leaned heavily on the sword’s hilt, using it for a walking stick.
“I’ll manage,” he said, though the way he limped seemed to contradict his statement.
Lynn eyed the drawbridge. The old wooden drawbridge was about two stories tall, made of rotted wood and held in one piece by cast-iron bars running across it. It seemed a miracle that the old piece of junk was still intact.
“Jago,” she said, “how do we get across the moat?”
She accentuated her question by looking down at the murky water. There was no way of knowing if another aquatic demon lurked below. Or sharks, or piranhas, or whatever else Lukios could dream up.
”The {Hindrance} spell prevents all forms of motion-based magic,” he responded with a grimace, ”meaning no flying or teleporting. His version of the enchantment also seems to prevent natural flight, hence Loric’s impromptu landing.
Jago did not mention that motion magic was his specialty, all of it now useless. He would have to walk like everyone else.
“Uldi, why don’t you blow up to forty feet and pull the door down?” Wyborn suggested.
Uldi shrugged, but just as she prepared to do her work, the drawbridge slowly started descending on its own. The rusty cranking of turning gears echoed inside the wall, indicating that this bridge had not been lowered in years. The drawbridge finally set down on the bank of the moat, creating a path across the water.
“Ummm.... yeah, that’s convenient.” Shurianno sounded hesitant. He did not like the idea of standing on this rickety old thing. First, because it might not hold them, and secondly, it would be a grand spot for an ambush.
”The bridge is safe, Shuri. Let us cross now.
Jago stepped onto the bridge with confidence, and the weak-looking bridge creaked and moaned like an old staircase; yet it held him, and he crossed with ease. After witnessing someone Jago’s size crossing the drawbridge, no one else in the group questioned the bridge’s strength and they quickly followed. Everyone except Reiko, that is. Ranto looked back across and saw her testing the edge of the wooden planks with one cautious foot.
“Come on, woman. If it held Jago, you needn’t be concerned.”
She answered by springing clear across the bridge, never setting foot on it. She landed with a crash right next to Ranto, digging a four inch footprint into the dirt under her.
“And here I thought only Shurianno could jump like that; shame on me.”
Reiko just smiled. She pulled one foot at a time out of the hole she had dug and fell in step with rest of the group.
They were now in the castle, technically. It did not feel that way, though, as they were still standing in open air. Having crossed the drawbridge and entered the main gate, they saw a royal red carpet extending straight in front of them toward the main body of the castle. The carpet stretched on over an interior courtyard, and despite the fact that the group had just entered a door, they would still have to walk further to enter the building. The walls of the castle were set fifty feet out from the door of the internal castle.
Every member of the group was tensed up; everyone save Jago, who would know if something were to approach. The wide open terrain made them easy pickings for an ambush, and no one expected the enemy to pass up such an opportunity. Yet, just like on the drawbridge, nothing attacked. They reached the front steps of the grand structure, gazing at the thick granite columns that supported the stone awning over the entrance.
The castle itself looked fairly traditional, circular construction aside. Instead of a lookout tower at each corner, the fortress had towers built on each cardinal direction, rising several stories above the rest of the castle. Certain patches of stone around the castle were not as dark as the rest of the gray stone, indicating that numerous tapestries had once hung in those places. Shields depicting some royal emblem of a cross and a lion hung from the wall in all their rusted splendor. The towers and walls were missing large segments where time and invaders had worked together to tarnish the vision of might that once was this castle. It had no doubt been quite a sight to behold, perhaps as little as twenty years ago. Now, it looked like the set of a medieval war movie for the Discovery Channel.
“Right in here! Follow me if you dare!”
Lukios’ torturously shrill voice beckoned them from inside the doorway. Firestorm accelerated, not wanting to let the bugger escape.
“Halt!” Jen Kai shouted, as though Lukios would actually listen. They could hear his footsteps resounding from inside.
Firestorm bolted up the stairs, following the annoying racket. He entered the doorway and found himself in a welcoming chamber, the front room of the castle. The inside of the castle held the same marks as the outside: Grand suits of armor, worn with time; paintings and art on the walls, peeling at the corners; scarlet carpeting covering every inch of the floor, despite the occasional discoloration; a massive chandelier, stretching from one end of the room to the other; and finally, about nine different doorways to pick from.
This room itself was circular, rendering it difficult to maintain a sense of direction. Firestorm hesitated in the center of the room, unsure which corridor was hiding the reptilian midget.
“Hellll-ooo-ohhh! Come get me, Firestorm! If you can find me, that is! Hahahahaha!”
Lukios’ voice seemed to resonate from all the doorways at once.
“Jago! Which way did he go!?”
”Hmmm... he is... he is present in every tunnel, somehow. My perception is clouded.”
Shurianno raised one eyebrow.
Jago doesn’t know which door to take? That’s unusual...
They had no time to think about it. The ceiling began to shake back and forth suddenly, as the decorations in the room began collapsing. Paintings fell off the walls and shattered; the suits of armor tipped over and connected with the floor with a thunderous crunch. And then, it happened. The huge chandelier which lit the room fell, forcing the group to scatter like roaches under a big man’s foot. The crystalline glass hit the floor and shattered, sending shards of glassy substance showering around the room, adding to the chaos. The roof itself followed, seeming to disconnect from the walls and come crashing down.
“SCATTER!!
Firestorm’s shout was barely audible over the din, but it was also unnecessary. No one needs to be told to move when twenty tons of stone is about to collapse on them. Every single member of the group shot to the nearest doorways, some with time to spare, and others diving out just in time. The roar of the ceiling against the floor reverberated throughout the entire compound, drowning out any attempt of communication at that point.
---------------------------
Got them! Hahahaha! Now I can eliminate them one at a time... They’re mine! Hee hee hee hehehe!!!
Even when just thinking to himself, Lukios’ voice was still irritating.
A mere nine seconds was all it took for the group to give the same beating to this creature that had been delivered to the first, despite the fact that everyone attacked this time. Even pacifistic Jago took a swing at it, powderizing a thigh bone. Abbadon’s attempt to control the creature failed; perhaps it was not all demon?
The creature died as quickly as it appeared, collapsing to the ground in multiple pieces as no fewer than seven bladed weapons returned to their sheaths. Demon-tainted blood spilled from the creature, turning the healthy green grass to a decayed brown as the bile poured out.
Lukios was stunned. One of his favorite minions had been chopped apart like a large tomato, the slices decorating the ground.
I’ll... I’ll have to split them up! They’re WAY too strong when they’re all together!
The demon’s corpse writhed on the ground as it evaporated. Lukios’ pondering was interrupted by a talking book issuing orders:
“Loric! Grab that guy before he runs off!”
Loric immediately sprung from the ground, lunging toward the hovering pest. He came flying towards Lukios with a grand ascent, planning to seize his ankles and drag him to the ground.
“Oh no you don’t!” the runt squealed, pointing his staff downwards, “{Hindrance!}”
The effects of Lukios’ enchantment took effect immediately, though nothing visibly changed. The only detectable result was that Loric’s upward momentum immediately ceased. As he prematurely reached the apex of his flight, he found that his wings could no longer catch any air. He began plummeting toward the ground from thirty-five feet up.
Bookie, who had still been hovering at this point, felt the effects also, as gravity, which he had been ignoring up til now, suddenly gripped him. The invisible hand of the planet jerked him to the earth. He did not say anything upon landing; books probably do not feel pain anyway.
Loric, on the other hand, was not so lucky. He landed with a disturbing crunch as multiple bones were broken from the impact. He rolled over on the grass and looked up at the now hysterically laughing Lukios.
“Got you! Got you! I got you! Ahahaha!”
“Although I’ve only known this person for ten seconds, “ Lucius reflected, “I already hate him.”
“With good reason,” Uldi confirmed.
“Come in, come in! Hee hee hee. I trust you’ll feel right at home!”
Lukios levitated over the castle wall, disappearing from view. He would be gone by the time they could cross the drawbridge. Firestorm knelt in the grass next to the downed Loric.
“Can you walk, Loric?” Firestorm questioned.
“Yeah... maybe. Hold on.”
Loric placed the blade of his sword on the ground and used it to haul himself to his feet. He leaned heavily on the sword’s hilt, using it for a walking stick.
“I’ll manage,” he said, though the way he limped seemed to contradict his statement.
Lynn eyed the drawbridge. The old wooden drawbridge was about two stories tall, made of rotted wood and held in one piece by cast-iron bars running across it. It seemed a miracle that the old piece of junk was still intact.
“Jago,” she said, “how do we get across the moat?”
She accentuated her question by looking down at the murky water. There was no way of knowing if another aquatic demon lurked below. Or sharks, or piranhas, or whatever else Lukios could dream up.
”The {Hindrance} spell prevents all forms of motion-based magic,” he responded with a grimace, ”meaning no flying or teleporting. His version of the enchantment also seems to prevent natural flight, hence Loric’s impromptu landing.
Jago did not mention that motion magic was his specialty, all of it now useless. He would have to walk like everyone else.
“Uldi, why don’t you blow up to forty feet and pull the door down?” Wyborn suggested.
Uldi shrugged, but just as she prepared to do her work, the drawbridge slowly started descending on its own. The rusty cranking of turning gears echoed inside the wall, indicating that this bridge had not been lowered in years. The drawbridge finally set down on the bank of the moat, creating a path across the water.
“Ummm.... yeah, that’s convenient.” Shurianno sounded hesitant. He did not like the idea of standing on this rickety old thing. First, because it might not hold them, and secondly, it would be a grand spot for an ambush.
”The bridge is safe, Shuri. Let us cross now.
Jago stepped onto the bridge with confidence, and the weak-looking bridge creaked and moaned like an old staircase; yet it held him, and he crossed with ease. After witnessing someone Jago’s size crossing the drawbridge, no one else in the group questioned the bridge’s strength and they quickly followed. Everyone except Reiko, that is. Ranto looked back across and saw her testing the edge of the wooden planks with one cautious foot.
“Come on, woman. If it held Jago, you needn’t be concerned.”
She answered by springing clear across the bridge, never setting foot on it. She landed with a crash right next to Ranto, digging a four inch footprint into the dirt under her.
“And here I thought only Shurianno could jump like that; shame on me.”
Reiko just smiled. She pulled one foot at a time out of the hole she had dug and fell in step with rest of the group.
They were now in the castle, technically. It did not feel that way, though, as they were still standing in open air. Having crossed the drawbridge and entered the main gate, they saw a royal red carpet extending straight in front of them toward the main body of the castle. The carpet stretched on over an interior courtyard, and despite the fact that the group had just entered a door, they would still have to walk further to enter the building. The walls of the castle were set fifty feet out from the door of the internal castle.
Every member of the group was tensed up; everyone save Jago, who would know if something were to approach. The wide open terrain made them easy pickings for an ambush, and no one expected the enemy to pass up such an opportunity. Yet, just like on the drawbridge, nothing attacked. They reached the front steps of the grand structure, gazing at the thick granite columns that supported the stone awning over the entrance.
The castle itself looked fairly traditional, circular construction aside. Instead of a lookout tower at each corner, the fortress had towers built on each cardinal direction, rising several stories above the rest of the castle. Certain patches of stone around the castle were not as dark as the rest of the gray stone, indicating that numerous tapestries had once hung in those places. Shields depicting some royal emblem of a cross and a lion hung from the wall in all their rusted splendor. The towers and walls were missing large segments where time and invaders had worked together to tarnish the vision of might that once was this castle. It had no doubt been quite a sight to behold, perhaps as little as twenty years ago. Now, it looked like the set of a medieval war movie for the Discovery Channel.
“Right in here! Follow me if you dare!”
Lukios’ torturously shrill voice beckoned them from inside the doorway. Firestorm accelerated, not wanting to let the bugger escape.
“Halt!” Jen Kai shouted, as though Lukios would actually listen. They could hear his footsteps resounding from inside.
Firestorm bolted up the stairs, following the annoying racket. He entered the doorway and found himself in a welcoming chamber, the front room of the castle. The inside of the castle held the same marks as the outside: Grand suits of armor, worn with time; paintings and art on the walls, peeling at the corners; scarlet carpeting covering every inch of the floor, despite the occasional discoloration; a massive chandelier, stretching from one end of the room to the other; and finally, about nine different doorways to pick from.
This room itself was circular, rendering it difficult to maintain a sense of direction. Firestorm hesitated in the center of the room, unsure which corridor was hiding the reptilian midget.
“Hellll-ooo-ohhh! Come get me, Firestorm! If you can find me, that is! Hahahahaha!”
Lukios’ voice seemed to resonate from all the doorways at once.
“Jago! Which way did he go!?”
”Hmmm... he is... he is present in every tunnel, somehow. My perception is clouded.”
Shurianno raised one eyebrow.
Jago doesn’t know which door to take? That’s unusual...
They had no time to think about it. The ceiling began to shake back and forth suddenly, as the decorations in the room began collapsing. Paintings fell off the walls and shattered; the suits of armor tipped over and connected with the floor with a thunderous crunch. And then, it happened. The huge chandelier which lit the room fell, forcing the group to scatter like roaches under a big man’s foot. The crystalline glass hit the floor and shattered, sending shards of glassy substance showering around the room, adding to the chaos. The roof itself followed, seeming to disconnect from the walls and come crashing down.
“SCATTER!!
Firestorm’s shout was barely audible over the din, but it was also unnecessary. No one needs to be told to move when twenty tons of stone is about to collapse on them. Every single member of the group shot to the nearest doorways, some with time to spare, and others diving out just in time. The roar of the ceiling against the floor reverberated throughout the entire compound, drowning out any attempt of communication at that point.
---------------------------
Got them! Hahahaha! Now I can eliminate them one at a time... They’re mine! Hee hee hee hehehe!!!
Even when just thinking to himself, Lukios’ voice was still irritating.
-
Firestorm
- Member
- Posts: 2332
- Joined: Wed Jul 12, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: An asylum for the criminally stupid
Caverns and Catfights
Shurianno was sitting at his desk in Mordor. His usually well-organized office was a mess, with papers and scrolls scattered all over every usable space. Sweat poured from his brow as he read the reports, the droplet tracing a streak down the side of his cheek. He was haggard, looking like he had been in his office for days without sleep. The smell emanating from his body indicated he had been hard at work all night, unable to leave even for food or bathing. The frantic look in his eye stressed the importance of his current task.
Suddenly, an underling appeared in the doorway with another stack of papers, one or two of them falling off the top and fluttering to the floor.
“Guildmaster! These papers also require your immediate attention!”
The messenger plopped the stack of papers down on top of the stack in front of Shurianno, doubling the collection in size. The messnger bolted back out the door, shouting over his shoulder as ran:
“Hold on! I’ve got six more stacks!”
“NOOOOOOOO!!”
--------------------------------
“Wake up, little ninja man.”
Reiko’s voice cut into Shurianno’s worst nightmare. The words jarred him from his dreamy state, and he woke with a start, a cold sweat beading up all over his body. He looked around to get his bearings, but the room was completely black. He could not even make out the outline of Reiko, who was hovering right over him.
“Where are we?” he questioned.
“It appears,” came Lucius’ voice from somewhere nearby, “that we have been separated from the rest of the group by the collapsing room.”
“Who’s here, Lucius?”
“Just you, me, and Reiko. Everyone else must have taken different doorways.”
Praise all the deities of every culture! The talking book is gone!!
Shurianno rose slowly to his feet, shaking the numbness from his head. He was woozy, and the pounding headache thumping in his head made every heartbeat laborious. He stumbled through the dark with uncertain footsteps, though he seemed to have a decent idea where the wall was. Years of navigating the dark mine underneath Mordor honed his senses to remarkable levels, and his knack for finding objects in the dark was uncanny. As he reached out to steady himself on the wall, he realized something was very wrong. The wall should not be damp, yet there was a fine layer of moisture clinging to the wall. Nor should there be vapor hanging in the air, yet he could feel it.
“As far as where we are now,” Lucius’ voice continued, “I haven’t a clue.”
Why does my head hurt? Shurianno wondered.
“Thanks for pushing me, by the way,” Lucius said, “that falling rock might’ve killed me. I owe you one. You okay? It looked like it glanced off you.”
“I’ll be okay, don’t worry about it.”
“Are we still in the castle?” Reiko wondered out loud. “Shouldn’t there be windows or something? It’s way too dark in here.”
“I’ll fix that,” Shurianno told them, “with a little trick from the Ninja’s Guild. Ikazuchi!”
Shurianno’s hands moved in the dark, making symbols with his hands as he activated an ancient jutsu. A small spark emanated from his hands before jumping up his arm. The spark continued to crawl up his shoulder and wrapped around his neck before snaking down the opposite arm. The spark left a visible trail as it moved, lending light to the room. The spark continued dancing all over his body until he was surrounded by an electrical shield. The light from the shield was enough to illuminate the corridor.
Corridor, however, was no longer the proper term. They were in a tunnel, lined with limestone rock and filled with a cooling mist. The moisture clung to the walls and soaked their skin, creating an early morning feeling. The tunnel extended a mere ten feet before turning left. Behind them lay the pile of rubble composed of ceiling chunks and chandelier parts.
“How long can you keep up you’re glow in the dark routine?” Reiko inquired.
“It’s a defensive enchantment,” he explained, “and it will last until I take a decent amount of damage. In other words, I can keep it up effortlessly until I get into a fight.”
“I guess we just go forward, then,” Lucius suggested, and started walking without waiting for a response. The other two followed without a word.
Rounding the corner, they came to a fork in the tunnel almost immediately. They weighed their options.
“Should we split up?” Shurianno asked.
“No. Separating in here would be suicidal.” Lucius informed him.
“Let’s go already,” Reiko declared as she walked down the tunnel on the left. The humans saw no reason to question the decision and followed her.
Twenty minutes and four crossroads later...
“We’re lost, I presume?” Lucius asked.
“I think so.” Shurianno confirmed.
“Were we ever not lost?” Reiko pointed out.
“Good point.” they said in unison.
The monotony of their hike was interrupted by the abrupt seizure of Lucius Kirinith. A shadowy stone claw reached out from the wall, grabbing his left arm and jerking him toward the wall. He dug his heels into the ground, attempting to pull away. The hand, however, was possessed of hydraulic strength and dragged him effortlessly. He dug a trench with his feet as he was dragged towards the wall, but his struggling was futile.
“Let go! GUYS!”
Shurianno and Reiko leaped into action, with Shuri grabbing onto Lucius by the waist and shoulders and Reiko latching onto the stone arm itself; she could not pull on Lucius lest she literally tear him in half. All three of them heaved away from the wall, but the dragging just continued at the same rate. Lucius tried to put a hand on the stone wall to brace himself, only to find that his hand sunk into the wall as though the limestone were mud. His arm sank deep into the wall as the rest of his body started to enter behind it. Shurianno and Reiko, however, found the stone to be quite solid. They wedged their feet against the wall and pulled with as much force as they could muster, to no avail. Lucius was absorbed into the wall, and they could do nothing about it.
The last thing they saw of Lucius was his right hand wrapping around the hilt of his weapon, making sure it was still in place.
“He’s gone!” Reiko exclaimed, feeling along the wall for a hidden opening. “There must be some way to follow him!”
“Don’t bother,” a voice growled from behind them, “until you deal with me.”
Shurianno and Reiko spun to find an enormous bear-like creature closing in on them.
The creature resembled a cross between a grizzly bear and a human, standing ten feet tall and weighing who knows how much. She had a thick, muscular body covered in light brown fur, and a snout like a bear. Her teeth were slightly visible even when her mouth was closed, displaying the razor sharp weapons unintentionally. The dark green eyes and the ears poking out from under the fur were human as well. Aside from those two features, and the fact that she walked upright, she was mostly bear.
“My name is Krylicana, and you are my dinner.”
Shurianno incredulously gazed at the bear.
NOT ANOTHER HUGE WOMAN! COME ON ALREADY!!
---------------------------
Meanwhile...
Lucius tumbled to floor on the other side of the wall, unscathed. He sprang to his feet, sizing up the new room. Instead of a tunnel, he was now in a wide open circular room, about one hundred feet in diameter. The floor was soil, and several columns of rock stretched from floor to ceiling, like stalactites and stalagmites that had merged halfway. From where he was standing, he could see the entire chamber. There were no doors. Unlike the tunnel, this romm was well-lit. Very strange, considering there were no torches, lightbulbs, small suns, or any other sources of light in the room whatsoever.
There was, however, a creature standing in the center of the room. It was humanoid, standing about 5’11’ and possessing few outstanding features. Its skin was gray and leathery looking. The shape of its face was the attention getter, with narrow rectangular eye sockets and a square mouth. Rows of triangular teeth shown from behind the mouth when the creature talked, giving the impression a living cheese grater. The monster was barechested and wore black slacks with no shoes, a belt ringing the waistline with a plain metal buckle. Long nails protruded from each finger and toe, and its head was slightly elongated behind it like some strange alien egghead. It had no hair or facial growth, save the scraggly black hair draped across its neck in the back. The creature observed him as they sized each other up.
Lucius slowly approached the creature, not yet sure what it was capable of. It had a katana tucked into its belt, hand resting on the hilt.
“Greetings!” the creature proclaimed, “Are you a hero?”
“In a manner of speaking, perhaps,” Lucius countered, “Why?”
“Because,” the creature said, looking at the weapon Lucius had with him, “I am the Hero Killer, and you’re close enough to a hero! I beat heroes at their own games. I’ve currently defeated - and killed, of course - more than four hundred so called heroes, using their own strategies against them. I see you carry a sword, hence my choice of weapon. Now, I shall soundly defeat you and collect your weapon and soul.”
“Not likely. I’ve bested others who made such claims.”
“Don’t be so confident Lucius,” the creature said. It took a step towards him as it spoke. “I’ve heard the whole “good always wins” and nonsense like it before. This isn’t a fairy tale, though. You’ll find that the bad guys quite frequently escape unscathed, leaving people like you to question their purpose in life... or death.”
The gravelly voice of the creature spoke in such a matter-of-fact way that the threat seemed more real. The sounds of conversation gave way to the familiar sound of metal against sheath as both swordsmen drew their weapons, and there was no more talking to be done.
------------------------
Aidan narrowly avoided being crushed as the chamber collapsed behind him. He crouched low on the ground, shielding himself as shards of glass and stone showered around him. He waited until the crashing sound was finished before lifing his head up to survey his new surroundings. The corridor he was standing in was bare, with no decorations or anything lining the hallways. Square windows every fifteen feet or so let plenty of sunlight into the hall, and the courtyard they had already passed through loomed out to their right. Behind him, an immoveable pile of rubble. He reflexively reached down for his flask, and as he lifted it for a drink, he noticed that the flask was extremely light. He inspected the container, and to his horror he discoved that a flying piece of glass had sliced the bottom of it open. The floor underneath the flask was darkened where the liquid had trickled out.
“Well, you’re out of luck!” came the familiar voice of Bookie, who for almost five seconds had been silent. The injured Loric was carrying the now-immobile book, because the manuscript could no longer hover around. The {Hindrance} was still affecting everyone, even after Lukios’ departure.
“We’ve got to find more!” the alcohol deprived monk yelled, and he tore off down the hallway before Bookie could even protest.
“Come back here! Aidan!”
The monk was gone.
“I think we’re better off without him, A-”
“Silence, Loric! I don’t want that name used even if there’s no one else around. You never know who might be listening. I’m Bookie now, remember?”
“Whatever. Anyway, he’d have just been a distraction. We need to find a way through here so we can get to the keep.”
Bookie and Loric pressed on, searching for an exit.
---------------------------
Meanwhile...
The monk frantically ran through the castle, having exited the long corridor and ended up in a more traditional medieval environment. The breathtaking interior of this palatial structure was completely lost on the monk. Aidan did not even bother to survey the surroundings. The monk made a playground of the castle, running up and down staircases, sliding down banisters, swinging from chandeliers, and knocking down doors with abandon.
I can smell it!! It’s nearby...
He ran down yet another hallway, by now hopelessly lost. He did not actually care to find the exit, so long as he found the brewery. And find the brewery he would, because he had closed in on the scent. He skidded to a stop in front of a large door, chained shut and secured by a large lock.
The lock melted under the heat of Aidan’s fireball and he kicked the door down, finding a staircase leading down on the other side. He jumped onto the fallen door and surfed down the stairs at breakneck speed, completely disregarding all personal safety. The wind whipped furiously through his hair as he ripped down the staircase into the darkness below. The door finally crashed at the bottom of the eighty-step staircase and splintered into a dozen pieces as Aidan sprung off, landing expertly on the cobblestone floor..
I found it!
Set up in front of him was the castle’s wine storage. Barrels upon barrels of various types of wine filled the entire underground chamber for as far as he could see.
HEAVEN!
He lunged toward the nearest barrel, punching through the side of it and taking a handful of the liquid in the palm of his hand. He scooped the dark fluid into his mouth, savoring the taste of the aged beverage.
His enjoyment was interrupted when one of the barrels came crashing down on his head, slamming him into the floor. All the scratches incurred by the impact stung as the alcohol seeped into his wounds.
Standing over his prostrate form was a cyclops, a titanic beast some six feet taller than he. The one eye had no iris, and the oversized body of the creature gave off a rank odor. The creature was not so much muscular as it was just plain fat, but its sheer size alone afforded it considerable strength. It’s brown skin was covered with circular tattoos, and the bright red tuft of hair on its head made its only fashion statement. A simple loincloth with a shoulder strap composed the entirety of its wardrobe, simplicity the only mantra. The cyclops dropped the remaining pieces of the barrel to the ground as it picked up the stunned monk.
“No drinky!” the creature roared into his face, and then slammed him into the wall before hurling him into the midst of the barrels. Aidan tumbled to the floor as the barrels caved in on him, instantly burying him.
“Me smash you!” the cyclops declared triumphantly.
“OOAF! Aafgv sgihag erhhr e ummmm gunf ttk hyyl, yeeddgl tuan!” Aidan’s muffled voice exclaimed from under neath the liquor barrels.
(Translation: Ouch! As soon as I get out from under here, you’re toast!)
Shurianno was sitting at his desk in Mordor. His usually well-organized office was a mess, with papers and scrolls scattered all over every usable space. Sweat poured from his brow as he read the reports, the droplet tracing a streak down the side of his cheek. He was haggard, looking like he had been in his office for days without sleep. The smell emanating from his body indicated he had been hard at work all night, unable to leave even for food or bathing. The frantic look in his eye stressed the importance of his current task.
Suddenly, an underling appeared in the doorway with another stack of papers, one or two of them falling off the top and fluttering to the floor.
“Guildmaster! These papers also require your immediate attention!”
The messenger plopped the stack of papers down on top of the stack in front of Shurianno, doubling the collection in size. The messnger bolted back out the door, shouting over his shoulder as ran:
“Hold on! I’ve got six more stacks!”
“NOOOOOOOO!!”
--------------------------------
“Wake up, little ninja man.”
Reiko’s voice cut into Shurianno’s worst nightmare. The words jarred him from his dreamy state, and he woke with a start, a cold sweat beading up all over his body. He looked around to get his bearings, but the room was completely black. He could not even make out the outline of Reiko, who was hovering right over him.
“Where are we?” he questioned.
“It appears,” came Lucius’ voice from somewhere nearby, “that we have been separated from the rest of the group by the collapsing room.”
“Who’s here, Lucius?”
“Just you, me, and Reiko. Everyone else must have taken different doorways.”
Praise all the deities of every culture! The talking book is gone!!
Shurianno rose slowly to his feet, shaking the numbness from his head. He was woozy, and the pounding headache thumping in his head made every heartbeat laborious. He stumbled through the dark with uncertain footsteps, though he seemed to have a decent idea where the wall was. Years of navigating the dark mine underneath Mordor honed his senses to remarkable levels, and his knack for finding objects in the dark was uncanny. As he reached out to steady himself on the wall, he realized something was very wrong. The wall should not be damp, yet there was a fine layer of moisture clinging to the wall. Nor should there be vapor hanging in the air, yet he could feel it.
“As far as where we are now,” Lucius’ voice continued, “I haven’t a clue.”
Why does my head hurt? Shurianno wondered.
“Thanks for pushing me, by the way,” Lucius said, “that falling rock might’ve killed me. I owe you one. You okay? It looked like it glanced off you.”
“I’ll be okay, don’t worry about it.”
“Are we still in the castle?” Reiko wondered out loud. “Shouldn’t there be windows or something? It’s way too dark in here.”
“I’ll fix that,” Shurianno told them, “with a little trick from the Ninja’s Guild. Ikazuchi!”
Shurianno’s hands moved in the dark, making symbols with his hands as he activated an ancient jutsu. A small spark emanated from his hands before jumping up his arm. The spark continued to crawl up his shoulder and wrapped around his neck before snaking down the opposite arm. The spark left a visible trail as it moved, lending light to the room. The spark continued dancing all over his body until he was surrounded by an electrical shield. The light from the shield was enough to illuminate the corridor.
Corridor, however, was no longer the proper term. They were in a tunnel, lined with limestone rock and filled with a cooling mist. The moisture clung to the walls and soaked their skin, creating an early morning feeling. The tunnel extended a mere ten feet before turning left. Behind them lay the pile of rubble composed of ceiling chunks and chandelier parts.
“How long can you keep up you’re glow in the dark routine?” Reiko inquired.
“It’s a defensive enchantment,” he explained, “and it will last until I take a decent amount of damage. In other words, I can keep it up effortlessly until I get into a fight.”
“I guess we just go forward, then,” Lucius suggested, and started walking without waiting for a response. The other two followed without a word.
Rounding the corner, they came to a fork in the tunnel almost immediately. They weighed their options.
“Should we split up?” Shurianno asked.
“No. Separating in here would be suicidal.” Lucius informed him.
“Let’s go already,” Reiko declared as she walked down the tunnel on the left. The humans saw no reason to question the decision and followed her.
Twenty minutes and four crossroads later...
“We’re lost, I presume?” Lucius asked.
“I think so.” Shurianno confirmed.
“Were we ever not lost?” Reiko pointed out.
“Good point.” they said in unison.
The monotony of their hike was interrupted by the abrupt seizure of Lucius Kirinith. A shadowy stone claw reached out from the wall, grabbing his left arm and jerking him toward the wall. He dug his heels into the ground, attempting to pull away. The hand, however, was possessed of hydraulic strength and dragged him effortlessly. He dug a trench with his feet as he was dragged towards the wall, but his struggling was futile.
“Let go! GUYS!”
Shurianno and Reiko leaped into action, with Shuri grabbing onto Lucius by the waist and shoulders and Reiko latching onto the stone arm itself; she could not pull on Lucius lest she literally tear him in half. All three of them heaved away from the wall, but the dragging just continued at the same rate. Lucius tried to put a hand on the stone wall to brace himself, only to find that his hand sunk into the wall as though the limestone were mud. His arm sank deep into the wall as the rest of his body started to enter behind it. Shurianno and Reiko, however, found the stone to be quite solid. They wedged their feet against the wall and pulled with as much force as they could muster, to no avail. Lucius was absorbed into the wall, and they could do nothing about it.
The last thing they saw of Lucius was his right hand wrapping around the hilt of his weapon, making sure it was still in place.
“He’s gone!” Reiko exclaimed, feeling along the wall for a hidden opening. “There must be some way to follow him!”
“Don’t bother,” a voice growled from behind them, “until you deal with me.”
Shurianno and Reiko spun to find an enormous bear-like creature closing in on them.
The creature resembled a cross between a grizzly bear and a human, standing ten feet tall and weighing who knows how much. She had a thick, muscular body covered in light brown fur, and a snout like a bear. Her teeth were slightly visible even when her mouth was closed, displaying the razor sharp weapons unintentionally. The dark green eyes and the ears poking out from under the fur were human as well. Aside from those two features, and the fact that she walked upright, she was mostly bear.
“My name is Krylicana, and you are my dinner.”
Shurianno incredulously gazed at the bear.
NOT ANOTHER HUGE WOMAN! COME ON ALREADY!!
---------------------------
Meanwhile...
Lucius tumbled to floor on the other side of the wall, unscathed. He sprang to his feet, sizing up the new room. Instead of a tunnel, he was now in a wide open circular room, about one hundred feet in diameter. The floor was soil, and several columns of rock stretched from floor to ceiling, like stalactites and stalagmites that had merged halfway. From where he was standing, he could see the entire chamber. There were no doors. Unlike the tunnel, this romm was well-lit. Very strange, considering there were no torches, lightbulbs, small suns, or any other sources of light in the room whatsoever.
There was, however, a creature standing in the center of the room. It was humanoid, standing about 5’11’ and possessing few outstanding features. Its skin was gray and leathery looking. The shape of its face was the attention getter, with narrow rectangular eye sockets and a square mouth. Rows of triangular teeth shown from behind the mouth when the creature talked, giving the impression a living cheese grater. The monster was barechested and wore black slacks with no shoes, a belt ringing the waistline with a plain metal buckle. Long nails protruded from each finger and toe, and its head was slightly elongated behind it like some strange alien egghead. It had no hair or facial growth, save the scraggly black hair draped across its neck in the back. The creature observed him as they sized each other up.
Lucius slowly approached the creature, not yet sure what it was capable of. It had a katana tucked into its belt, hand resting on the hilt.
“Greetings!” the creature proclaimed, “Are you a hero?”
“In a manner of speaking, perhaps,” Lucius countered, “Why?”
“Because,” the creature said, looking at the weapon Lucius had with him, “I am the Hero Killer, and you’re close enough to a hero! I beat heroes at their own games. I’ve currently defeated - and killed, of course - more than four hundred so called heroes, using their own strategies against them. I see you carry a sword, hence my choice of weapon. Now, I shall soundly defeat you and collect your weapon and soul.”
“Not likely. I’ve bested others who made such claims.”
“Don’t be so confident Lucius,” the creature said. It took a step towards him as it spoke. “I’ve heard the whole “good always wins” and nonsense like it before. This isn’t a fairy tale, though. You’ll find that the bad guys quite frequently escape unscathed, leaving people like you to question their purpose in life... or death.”
The gravelly voice of the creature spoke in such a matter-of-fact way that the threat seemed more real. The sounds of conversation gave way to the familiar sound of metal against sheath as both swordsmen drew their weapons, and there was no more talking to be done.
------------------------
Aidan narrowly avoided being crushed as the chamber collapsed behind him. He crouched low on the ground, shielding himself as shards of glass and stone showered around him. He waited until the crashing sound was finished before lifing his head up to survey his new surroundings. The corridor he was standing in was bare, with no decorations or anything lining the hallways. Square windows every fifteen feet or so let plenty of sunlight into the hall, and the courtyard they had already passed through loomed out to their right. Behind him, an immoveable pile of rubble. He reflexively reached down for his flask, and as he lifted it for a drink, he noticed that the flask was extremely light. He inspected the container, and to his horror he discoved that a flying piece of glass had sliced the bottom of it open. The floor underneath the flask was darkened where the liquid had trickled out.
“Well, you’re out of luck!” came the familiar voice of Bookie, who for almost five seconds had been silent. The injured Loric was carrying the now-immobile book, because the manuscript could no longer hover around. The {Hindrance} was still affecting everyone, even after Lukios’ departure.
“We’ve got to find more!” the alcohol deprived monk yelled, and he tore off down the hallway before Bookie could even protest.
“Come back here! Aidan!”
The monk was gone.
“I think we’re better off without him, A-”
“Silence, Loric! I don’t want that name used even if there’s no one else around. You never know who might be listening. I’m Bookie now, remember?”
“Whatever. Anyway, he’d have just been a distraction. We need to find a way through here so we can get to the keep.”
Bookie and Loric pressed on, searching for an exit.
---------------------------
Meanwhile...
The monk frantically ran through the castle, having exited the long corridor and ended up in a more traditional medieval environment. The breathtaking interior of this palatial structure was completely lost on the monk. Aidan did not even bother to survey the surroundings. The monk made a playground of the castle, running up and down staircases, sliding down banisters, swinging from chandeliers, and knocking down doors with abandon.
I can smell it!! It’s nearby...
He ran down yet another hallway, by now hopelessly lost. He did not actually care to find the exit, so long as he found the brewery. And find the brewery he would, because he had closed in on the scent. He skidded to a stop in front of a large door, chained shut and secured by a large lock.
The lock melted under the heat of Aidan’s fireball and he kicked the door down, finding a staircase leading down on the other side. He jumped onto the fallen door and surfed down the stairs at breakneck speed, completely disregarding all personal safety. The wind whipped furiously through his hair as he ripped down the staircase into the darkness below. The door finally crashed at the bottom of the eighty-step staircase and splintered into a dozen pieces as Aidan sprung off, landing expertly on the cobblestone floor..
I found it!
Set up in front of him was the castle’s wine storage. Barrels upon barrels of various types of wine filled the entire underground chamber for as far as he could see.
HEAVEN!
He lunged toward the nearest barrel, punching through the side of it and taking a handful of the liquid in the palm of his hand. He scooped the dark fluid into his mouth, savoring the taste of the aged beverage.
His enjoyment was interrupted when one of the barrels came crashing down on his head, slamming him into the floor. All the scratches incurred by the impact stung as the alcohol seeped into his wounds.
Standing over his prostrate form was a cyclops, a titanic beast some six feet taller than he. The one eye had no iris, and the oversized body of the creature gave off a rank odor. The creature was not so much muscular as it was just plain fat, but its sheer size alone afforded it considerable strength. It’s brown skin was covered with circular tattoos, and the bright red tuft of hair on its head made its only fashion statement. A simple loincloth with a shoulder strap composed the entirety of its wardrobe, simplicity the only mantra. The cyclops dropped the remaining pieces of the barrel to the ground as it picked up the stunned monk.
“No drinky!” the creature roared into his face, and then slammed him into the wall before hurling him into the midst of the barrels. Aidan tumbled to the floor as the barrels caved in on him, instantly burying him.
“Me smash you!” the cyclops declared triumphantly.
“OOAF! Aafgv sgihag erhhr e ummmm gunf ttk hyyl, yeeddgl tuan!” Aidan’s muffled voice exclaimed from under neath the liquor barrels.
(Translation: Ouch! As soon as I get out from under here, you’re toast!)
-
Firestorm
- Member
- Posts: 2332
- Joined: Wed Jul 12, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: An asylum for the criminally stupid
Clones and More Catfights
Karna bolted for the nearest exit the minute the trembling started. The creaking in the ceiling was the only clue she needed to hear before she dissappeared through the door second from the right. She watched as the ceiling and chandelier crashed down right behind Ranto, the only other person to end up with her. He landed inches from her feet in a prone position, arms protecting his head. She decided to duck as well when the shower of flying debris exploded by her, digging into both of them and filling the doorway with a stony blockade.
They remained motionless for a few seconds before they rose, looking at their new surroundings. The hallway was well-lit by torches on either side, though no other features adorned the walls. It was, with the exception of other halls branching off from it, the most boring environment they had ever seen. The corridor literally extended forever in front of them, and no ending was visible. The stone walls bore absolutely no markings, and only by counting torches could they even keep track of how far they would walk. The massive scrap heap behind them prevented any back tracking, so forward was the only available direction.
Ranto was frantically searching his pockets for something, Karna noted. He gave up on the pockets and started scanning the ground near the rubble pile, obviously not planning to leave without the missing item.
“Lookin’ for this?” she asked as she stooped to pick up the object in question, which had landed right near her foot. It was light weight and easily fit into her palm. The object resembled a red wire bent in a circle, with numerous cross pieces connecting the sides like a mixed up bicycle tire.
Ranto lunged toward her, snatching the item away before she had even arighted herself.
“Watch it!” she yelled, shoving him back with one hand and ever so lightly resting her other hand on her weapon.
“Careful woman; if the wrong person holds this object to long, it will slowly drain your spirit out,” he lied, “You want it back?”
He held the object back out to her, palm up. She seemed only slightly less angry after his explanation, only grunting something unintelligible in response. She loosened her grip on her naginata.
“We need to search for a way to the castle keep, where everyone else is probably heading,” Ranto said, “Come along with me... or don’t. I don’t care.”
He started walking off without her. Though she was tempted to take him up on his offer, she was still aware that wandering through enemy territory alone was probably suicidal. She followed him at a distance, not caring to talk.
Ranto was seething as well, but he had excellent control of his temper. He would save it up and save it up and save it up and save it up until he chose to detonate. Then the uglier side of his personality would show itself; for the time being though, he wanted as few enemies as possible, and he was not going to pick a fight with Karna.
Clearly, neither of them had much to say after that point. The only activity that seemed to matter to Ranto was studying his little trinket. He nervously shifted hands, passing the object back and forth and feeling its edges with his fingertips. It clearly held great importance to him.
They walked on in silence for nearly ten minutes as Karna studied the Mordorian. She could tell that he had some pressing issue on his mind, but had not the slightest clue what. It probably involved his trinket. She also noticed that he was taller than she had realized; the way he walked made him appear shorter. Were he to stand up, he would probably be six foot three or so. He also tended to walk close to the wall where it was darker, blending in with the shadows in an eerie fashion.
Just as he passed the fifth hallway on the right, a long arm reached from the tunnel and snatched the red circle right from his hands!
“HEY!!”
Ranto immediately pursued the fleeing figure down the tunnel, his footsteps resounding down the hall. Karna immediately followed, gaining on him quickly. She watched him round a corner ten feet in front of her, and picked up the pace so she could follow him.
When she came around the corner, however, both of them had vanished.
It’s not possible! Where’d he go?
It was eerie. Not only had Ranto dissappeared, but the sound of his feet against the floor was gone as well. Even the air here was calm, as though no one had passed by in recent moments.
“Your friend won’t be coming back,” claimed the voice behind Karna. She whirled around to locate the source....
....and found the most non-threatening opponent she had ever seen.
“Your friend won’t be coming back,” claimed the voice behind Karna. She whirled around to locate the source, and found the most non-threatening opponent she had ever seen.
Leaning lazily against the wall of the hallway was a five foot six brunette, wearing simple blue jeans and a gray sweatshirt. The hood was pulled back, draped across her shoulders, and the drawstrings dangled meaninglessly. Her hair was tucked inside the neck of the sweatshirt to keep it from misbehaving, and she had lightly tanned skin. Her eyes were big and round, filled by the hazel glow of her irises. The one arm behind her back seemed to promise an unpleasant surprise.
“At least, not for a while. Wandering into this fortress was an unwise decision on your part.”
She brought her concealed arm slowly out from behind her, revealing a wakazashi. She played with the miniature katana, flipping with her knuckles like a coin.
“An’..... where’d he go?” Karna demanded.
“Probably chasing that other silly guy. I’m Silhouette, by the way. Nice to meet you. Obviously, I stopped using my real name a long time ago. Introducing one’s self as ‘Susan’ doesn’t exactly strike fear into victims, now does it?”
“Karna. Delighted. Now get outt’a my way!”
“Heh heh. Sure. I’ll move,” the knife-wielding lady stated, and then she proceeded to step into the wall.
That’s right, into. She entered the wall as though it were liquid, stepping through the substance and leaving a ripple on the surface. She stepped out of the wall moments later, a mere two feet from Karna, and swung her wakazashi at Karna’s throat. The smaller woman barely ducked under the swing in time to avoid death. Her reflexes had just increased her lifespan significantly.
“Hence the callsign ‘Silhouette,’ dear,” she said as she completed her missed swing, ”But I won’t miss again.”
Karna held her weapon at the ready...
-------------------------------
Wyborn exited the room a few seconds before the chandelier landed, covering his face with his arm as the shower of glass splinters flew past. The cacophony of the collapsing room lasted for a good fifteen seconds as the mass quantities of stone crashed to the floor with thunderous results. When he finally deemed it safe to uncover his eyes, he found that his surroundings had dramatically changed. Stretching on infinitely before him was yet another corridor, but this one was different. The walls were no longer built of medieval stone; rather, it looked like typical suburban red brick. The hall stretched beyond his field of vision.
He looked back at the room he had just left. There was no way he could clear all that rubble, save maybe blasting it all with an incredible amount of Light. That kind of energy expenditure would wear him out before he even got to fight, not to mention he could possibly injure his comrades. He decided against it. He would have to go on alone. He released a bored sigh as he started trekking down the impossibly long and nondescript tunnel.
Whoever designed this castle must not really care about home decor. There’s no furniture or anything. There’s not even any windows. Wait a second! Where’s the light coming from?
Wyborn looked around the brick tunnel, searching for a source of light. As he did, he noticed that the pile of rubble behind him was gone. The tunnel merely extended back in the direction he started in.
Impossible! Not only is there no lighting anywhere in this tunnel, but I only walked five feet from that pile of stone and it’s gone! Something underhanded is at work here...
Wyborn continued walking, wondering it was actually possible to reach the end of this tunnel. He very nearly ran right into a large creature that was blocking the tunnel. As with the rubble’s disappearance, this creature had suddenly appeared. He had not approached it; it was just in front of him now. So were three of its buddies, for that matter.
The ogre was large and gray-skinned, with extremely large eyes and wielding a quarterstaff. It wore a plate mail skirt around its waist, and nothing on its stony torso. The creature was about eight feet tall and had strange triangular teeth filling its mouth. Wooden sandals were its only footwear, and an orange ponytail made up the entirety of its hair. Scars ran across its body, possibly inflicted by battle and possibly inflicted by its parents. Its allies were almost identical, save minor cosmetic differences.
The creature looked down at him with disdain. But, after seeing him, its expression slowly changed to that of panic.
“IT’S THE WYBORN! RUUUUNN!!!”
The creature turned and literally tried to escape as the other three ogres held him in place.
Wyborn frowned.
“It’s ‘Wyborn.’ Just ‘Wyborn.’ At least get my name right!”
The ogre had finally stopped squirming and regained its composure. The four of them sized up the psychic.
“So that’s the Wyborn, huh? He doesn’t look so tough! Let’s kill him and we’ll all be famous!”
Wyborn sighed as the creatures assumed fighting positions. The one in the front charged at him, holding its staff over its shoulder like a bat and getting ready to knock him all the way back to the Gunjin. The two behind the first also charged after a slight pause. Wyborn patiently waited until the first ogre had closed sufficient distance, and then he leaped. As he sailed through the air, he focused his mind and wielded the Light.
Five six-inch spikes made of pure Light sprouted from the bottom of his foot as he neared the creature. The ogre had not been expecting him to jump at it; most humans try to make distance from enemies that large. The ogre failed to dodge as Wyborn planted his foot on the creature’s face, the five lightspikes penetrating its skull instantly. The spikes tore through bone and membrane, burning the flesh off of the creature as Wyborn sprung off of its head. Five holes adorned the creature’s cranium, and it collapsed to the floor like so much Swiss cheese.
The sorceror sailed over the pair of ogres trailing the first, and as he did so the five lightspikes merged into one and lengthened. The trail of Light flowed down from his foot and began weaving a circle around the two ogres. They watched dumbfounded as the Light trail rapidly encircled them, forming a figure eight in mid air. One ogre now stood in each half of the figure eight, just now realizing that their comrade had been executed in gloriously violent fashion.
Wyborn landed on the other side of the ogres now, and closed his fist slowly. The figure eight began to shrink, the outer edges of the Light contracting and pulling closer together. As the Light shrank, the ogres were drawn towards each other by the taut cords of energy. The trap continued to shrink until the ogres were pressed together, face first. The Light began to dig into their skin as it slowly continued its contraction. Just when the ogres thought their top halves would be severed, the Light exploded, sparing them the agonizing death they had expected. Their bodies collapsed to the ground lifelessly.
The fourth ogre’s jaw was now trailing behind him on the floor as he fled.
“I TOLD YOU WE SHOULD’VE RUN!!” he bellowed as he ran down the hall.
Wyborn wiped a blood smear off his armor as he walked on, as though nothing had happened.
It only took ten seconds before he heard another voice, this time from behind him.
“Wyborg.”
He did not even turn around before he corrected the creature.
“It’s ‘Wyborn!’ Why is that so hard for you people!?”
“Correction: My name is Wyborg.”
That was rather unexpected. Wyborn slowly turned to size up the creature.
It was him, apparently, except that its skin was a metallic gray color. It wore the same Gerudo armor and spoke with the same accent as he, though the voice sounded muffled. Wyborn stared at the creature, trying to determine whether to laugh or cry. This was an insult.
“And... what do you want?” he snapped.
“The desire to achieve objectives is the only ‘want’ I have been equipped with. Prepare to be terminated.”
The robot’s mouth did not move when it spoke; it sounded like a voicebox inside the creature was copying his voice quite accurately, albeit with metallic overtones. Despite the creature’s robotic voice, its movements were extremely lifelike as it approached him.
Hmph. Robots can’t use Light.
“Incorrect. An Ion Particle Emitter allows me to duplicate the effects of your Light, Original.”
What? Is it reading my thoughts?
“Incorrect. A highly advanced Electrical Field Reader allows me to scan the electrical impules in your brain that control thought, so every time you think it is like speaking directly to me.”
Wonderful. Please tell me it isn’t telekinetic...
“Semi-correct. Telekinesis is impossible to perform without mental power. However, a Gravity Field Generator allows me to move objects without touching them. For example: Invert.”
Wyborn abruptly *fell up* as gravity flipped upside down, dropping him onto the ceiling. He collided with the floor, breaking his fall with his arms. He rolled over on the ceiling and stared down at the floor. Before he could say anything about this demonstration, the robot interrupted him.
“Revert.”
Wyborn again fell, this time falling in the traditionally accepted direction for such a purpose. He was prepared this time, however, and twisted in mid air as he fell. He landed on his feet and assumed a fighting stance.
So, it can mimic all my moves. I’ll still figure a way around it.
“Correction #1: I can not duplicate all of your techniques. Your ‘Sacrifice’ technique was deemed unnecessary and I have not been equipped to perform it. Correction #2: You will not find a way around me. You will be terminated.”
Really. It’s on, now.
“Correct.”
The robot finally agreed with him.
Karna bolted for the nearest exit the minute the trembling started. The creaking in the ceiling was the only clue she needed to hear before she dissappeared through the door second from the right. She watched as the ceiling and chandelier crashed down right behind Ranto, the only other person to end up with her. He landed inches from her feet in a prone position, arms protecting his head. She decided to duck as well when the shower of flying debris exploded by her, digging into both of them and filling the doorway with a stony blockade.
They remained motionless for a few seconds before they rose, looking at their new surroundings. The hallway was well-lit by torches on either side, though no other features adorned the walls. It was, with the exception of other halls branching off from it, the most boring environment they had ever seen. The corridor literally extended forever in front of them, and no ending was visible. The stone walls bore absolutely no markings, and only by counting torches could they even keep track of how far they would walk. The massive scrap heap behind them prevented any back tracking, so forward was the only available direction.
Ranto was frantically searching his pockets for something, Karna noted. He gave up on the pockets and started scanning the ground near the rubble pile, obviously not planning to leave without the missing item.
“Lookin’ for this?” she asked as she stooped to pick up the object in question, which had landed right near her foot. It was light weight and easily fit into her palm. The object resembled a red wire bent in a circle, with numerous cross pieces connecting the sides like a mixed up bicycle tire.
Ranto lunged toward her, snatching the item away before she had even arighted herself.
“Watch it!” she yelled, shoving him back with one hand and ever so lightly resting her other hand on her weapon.
“Careful woman; if the wrong person holds this object to long, it will slowly drain your spirit out,” he lied, “You want it back?”
He held the object back out to her, palm up. She seemed only slightly less angry after his explanation, only grunting something unintelligible in response. She loosened her grip on her naginata.
“We need to search for a way to the castle keep, where everyone else is probably heading,” Ranto said, “Come along with me... or don’t. I don’t care.”
He started walking off without her. Though she was tempted to take him up on his offer, she was still aware that wandering through enemy territory alone was probably suicidal. She followed him at a distance, not caring to talk.
Ranto was seething as well, but he had excellent control of his temper. He would save it up and save it up and save it up and save it up until he chose to detonate. Then the uglier side of his personality would show itself; for the time being though, he wanted as few enemies as possible, and he was not going to pick a fight with Karna.
Clearly, neither of them had much to say after that point. The only activity that seemed to matter to Ranto was studying his little trinket. He nervously shifted hands, passing the object back and forth and feeling its edges with his fingertips. It clearly held great importance to him.
They walked on in silence for nearly ten minutes as Karna studied the Mordorian. She could tell that he had some pressing issue on his mind, but had not the slightest clue what. It probably involved his trinket. She also noticed that he was taller than she had realized; the way he walked made him appear shorter. Were he to stand up, he would probably be six foot three or so. He also tended to walk close to the wall where it was darker, blending in with the shadows in an eerie fashion.
Just as he passed the fifth hallway on the right, a long arm reached from the tunnel and snatched the red circle right from his hands!
“HEY!!”
Ranto immediately pursued the fleeing figure down the tunnel, his footsteps resounding down the hall. Karna immediately followed, gaining on him quickly. She watched him round a corner ten feet in front of her, and picked up the pace so she could follow him.
When she came around the corner, however, both of them had vanished.
It’s not possible! Where’d he go?
It was eerie. Not only had Ranto dissappeared, but the sound of his feet against the floor was gone as well. Even the air here was calm, as though no one had passed by in recent moments.
“Your friend won’t be coming back,” claimed the voice behind Karna. She whirled around to locate the source....
....and found the most non-threatening opponent she had ever seen.
“Your friend won’t be coming back,” claimed the voice behind Karna. She whirled around to locate the source, and found the most non-threatening opponent she had ever seen.
Leaning lazily against the wall of the hallway was a five foot six brunette, wearing simple blue jeans and a gray sweatshirt. The hood was pulled back, draped across her shoulders, and the drawstrings dangled meaninglessly. Her hair was tucked inside the neck of the sweatshirt to keep it from misbehaving, and she had lightly tanned skin. Her eyes were big and round, filled by the hazel glow of her irises. The one arm behind her back seemed to promise an unpleasant surprise.
“At least, not for a while. Wandering into this fortress was an unwise decision on your part.”
She brought her concealed arm slowly out from behind her, revealing a wakazashi. She played with the miniature katana, flipping with her knuckles like a coin.
“An’..... where’d he go?” Karna demanded.
“Probably chasing that other silly guy. I’m Silhouette, by the way. Nice to meet you. Obviously, I stopped using my real name a long time ago. Introducing one’s self as ‘Susan’ doesn’t exactly strike fear into victims, now does it?”
“Karna. Delighted. Now get outt’a my way!”
“Heh heh. Sure. I’ll move,” the knife-wielding lady stated, and then she proceeded to step into the wall.
That’s right, into. She entered the wall as though it were liquid, stepping through the substance and leaving a ripple on the surface. She stepped out of the wall moments later, a mere two feet from Karna, and swung her wakazashi at Karna’s throat. The smaller woman barely ducked under the swing in time to avoid death. Her reflexes had just increased her lifespan significantly.
“Hence the callsign ‘Silhouette,’ dear,” she said as she completed her missed swing, ”But I won’t miss again.”
Karna held her weapon at the ready...
-------------------------------
Wyborn exited the room a few seconds before the chandelier landed, covering his face with his arm as the shower of glass splinters flew past. The cacophony of the collapsing room lasted for a good fifteen seconds as the mass quantities of stone crashed to the floor with thunderous results. When he finally deemed it safe to uncover his eyes, he found that his surroundings had dramatically changed. Stretching on infinitely before him was yet another corridor, but this one was different. The walls were no longer built of medieval stone; rather, it looked like typical suburban red brick. The hall stretched beyond his field of vision.
He looked back at the room he had just left. There was no way he could clear all that rubble, save maybe blasting it all with an incredible amount of Light. That kind of energy expenditure would wear him out before he even got to fight, not to mention he could possibly injure his comrades. He decided against it. He would have to go on alone. He released a bored sigh as he started trekking down the impossibly long and nondescript tunnel.
Whoever designed this castle must not really care about home decor. There’s no furniture or anything. There’s not even any windows. Wait a second! Where’s the light coming from?
Wyborn looked around the brick tunnel, searching for a source of light. As he did, he noticed that the pile of rubble behind him was gone. The tunnel merely extended back in the direction he started in.
Impossible! Not only is there no lighting anywhere in this tunnel, but I only walked five feet from that pile of stone and it’s gone! Something underhanded is at work here...
Wyborn continued walking, wondering it was actually possible to reach the end of this tunnel. He very nearly ran right into a large creature that was blocking the tunnel. As with the rubble’s disappearance, this creature had suddenly appeared. He had not approached it; it was just in front of him now. So were three of its buddies, for that matter.
The ogre was large and gray-skinned, with extremely large eyes and wielding a quarterstaff. It wore a plate mail skirt around its waist, and nothing on its stony torso. The creature was about eight feet tall and had strange triangular teeth filling its mouth. Wooden sandals were its only footwear, and an orange ponytail made up the entirety of its hair. Scars ran across its body, possibly inflicted by battle and possibly inflicted by its parents. Its allies were almost identical, save minor cosmetic differences.
The creature looked down at him with disdain. But, after seeing him, its expression slowly changed to that of panic.
“IT’S THE WYBORN! RUUUUNN!!!”
The creature turned and literally tried to escape as the other three ogres held him in place.
Wyborn frowned.
“It’s ‘Wyborn.’ Just ‘Wyborn.’ At least get my name right!”
The ogre had finally stopped squirming and regained its composure. The four of them sized up the psychic.
“So that’s the Wyborn, huh? He doesn’t look so tough! Let’s kill him and we’ll all be famous!”
Wyborn sighed as the creatures assumed fighting positions. The one in the front charged at him, holding its staff over its shoulder like a bat and getting ready to knock him all the way back to the Gunjin. The two behind the first also charged after a slight pause. Wyborn patiently waited until the first ogre had closed sufficient distance, and then he leaped. As he sailed through the air, he focused his mind and wielded the Light.
Five six-inch spikes made of pure Light sprouted from the bottom of his foot as he neared the creature. The ogre had not been expecting him to jump at it; most humans try to make distance from enemies that large. The ogre failed to dodge as Wyborn planted his foot on the creature’s face, the five lightspikes penetrating its skull instantly. The spikes tore through bone and membrane, burning the flesh off of the creature as Wyborn sprung off of its head. Five holes adorned the creature’s cranium, and it collapsed to the floor like so much Swiss cheese.
The sorceror sailed over the pair of ogres trailing the first, and as he did so the five lightspikes merged into one and lengthened. The trail of Light flowed down from his foot and began weaving a circle around the two ogres. They watched dumbfounded as the Light trail rapidly encircled them, forming a figure eight in mid air. One ogre now stood in each half of the figure eight, just now realizing that their comrade had been executed in gloriously violent fashion.
Wyborn landed on the other side of the ogres now, and closed his fist slowly. The figure eight began to shrink, the outer edges of the Light contracting and pulling closer together. As the Light shrank, the ogres were drawn towards each other by the taut cords of energy. The trap continued to shrink until the ogres were pressed together, face first. The Light began to dig into their skin as it slowly continued its contraction. Just when the ogres thought their top halves would be severed, the Light exploded, sparing them the agonizing death they had expected. Their bodies collapsed to the ground lifelessly.
The fourth ogre’s jaw was now trailing behind him on the floor as he fled.
“I TOLD YOU WE SHOULD’VE RUN!!” he bellowed as he ran down the hall.
Wyborn wiped a blood smear off his armor as he walked on, as though nothing had happened.
It only took ten seconds before he heard another voice, this time from behind him.
“Wyborg.”
He did not even turn around before he corrected the creature.
“It’s ‘Wyborn!’ Why is that so hard for you people!?”
“Correction: My name is Wyborg.”
That was rather unexpected. Wyborn slowly turned to size up the creature.
It was him, apparently, except that its skin was a metallic gray color. It wore the same Gerudo armor and spoke with the same accent as he, though the voice sounded muffled. Wyborn stared at the creature, trying to determine whether to laugh or cry. This was an insult.
“And... what do you want?” he snapped.
“The desire to achieve objectives is the only ‘want’ I have been equipped with. Prepare to be terminated.”
The robot’s mouth did not move when it spoke; it sounded like a voicebox inside the creature was copying his voice quite accurately, albeit with metallic overtones. Despite the creature’s robotic voice, its movements were extremely lifelike as it approached him.
Hmph. Robots can’t use Light.
“Incorrect. An Ion Particle Emitter allows me to duplicate the effects of your Light, Original.”
What? Is it reading my thoughts?
“Incorrect. A highly advanced Electrical Field Reader allows me to scan the electrical impules in your brain that control thought, so every time you think it is like speaking directly to me.”
Wonderful. Please tell me it isn’t telekinetic...
“Semi-correct. Telekinesis is impossible to perform without mental power. However, a Gravity Field Generator allows me to move objects without touching them. For example: Invert.”
Wyborn abruptly *fell up* as gravity flipped upside down, dropping him onto the ceiling. He collided with the floor, breaking his fall with his arms. He rolled over on the ceiling and stared down at the floor. Before he could say anything about this demonstration, the robot interrupted him.
“Revert.”
Wyborn again fell, this time falling in the traditionally accepted direction for such a purpose. He was prepared this time, however, and twisted in mid air as he fell. He landed on his feet and assumed a fighting stance.
So, it can mimic all my moves. I’ll still figure a way around it.
“Correction #1: I can not duplicate all of your techniques. Your ‘Sacrifice’ technique was deemed unnecessary and I have not been equipped to perform it. Correction #2: You will not find a way around me. You will be terminated.”
Really. It’s on, now.
“Correct.”
The robot finally agreed with him.
-
Firestorm
- Member
- Posts: 2332
- Joined: Wed Jul 12, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: An asylum for the criminally stupid
A Show of Force
Jago calmly stepped forward into one of the doors, having positioned himself near it before the ceiling started shaking. When the roof did finally collapse, as he had been expecting, he had already been clear of danger for a good ten seconds. Lynn promptly followed; staying close to the giant had been her ticket to an easy ride thus far.
Lynn watched as the flying shrapnel exploded all around her, the force of the wind reaching around Jago and nearly kocking her over anyway. As the pile of stone obstructed the doorway, the only light entering the tunnel was shut out. It was pitch black. The sound of water dripping from the ceiling was the only noise preventing complete silence.
”Hello, Uldi Skadisdottir.”
The lack of any lighting did not prevent Jago from noticing the presence of the broadsword-wielding woman.
“Hello, Jago,” she responded simply.
“Uldi, are you okay?” Lynn asked, a hint of concern lining her voice.
“I am fine, child,” Uldi assured her.
Lynn felt a massive, calloused hand wrap around hers, and recognized it to be Jago’s.
”Follow me. I can lead us out of this cave.”
The group progressed through the cavern, led only by Jago’s radar-like Truth and Uldi’s inexplicable knack for directions even in the dark. Despite Jago’s confidence, however, they did not find an exit after ten minutes of walking.
“Are you sure you know the way out, Jago?” Uldi questioned.
Jago pulled his lips into an invisible grin. Ever since he had found the Truth, his outlook on life itself had changed. He had no more concept of ‘lost’ or ‘uncertain.’ There would be no more ‘surprises’ or ‘ambushes,’ nor would there ever be another ‘secret.’ So long as he had the Truth, such earthly notions were no longer his concern.
He felt the walls and the floor, as well as the moisture dripping off them in this damp, vaporous cavern. He felt the individual cracks in the floor, and every bump on the rough ceiling. He felt every stalagmite, every stalactite, and every possible pitfall on the floor. He felt every obstruction that might trip or hurt the two he was guiding, and he knew where every path led. He felt the air around him, and he felt as it swirled around in his lungs. He even felt every fold in the fabric of his own clothing, plus the clothing of his companions. He felt every curve of their bodies, though not in an indulgent sense, and he felt everything from the follicles atop their heads to the droplets on their shoes.
”Trust me, Uldi Skadisdottir, I am not lost.”
Somehow, she doubted his words. He sounded confident enough, true, but if there were an exit nearby, she would certainly have sensed it by now.
Suddenly, Uldi felt a pair of disturbances in the air. One was coming at her from behind, the other from the front. She instinctively ducked and felt a whoosh of air passing a fraction of an inch over her head, followed by the crunching sound of stone against stone. A shriek of anguish was halfway shouted before the creature’s vocal cords were ground to dust. The cry of pain died mere moments after it began, and the sound of a falling body collapsing to the floor right next to Uldi was quite unnerving.
She pieced it together in her mind after a second had passed:
Jago had swung his hammer at her. At her face, no less. She had felt the disturbance in the air and ducked moments before the fatal blow had landed. Rather than hit her, the hammer had continued on and hit something behind her that had been swooping in from above. Something alive.
She now heard Jago slinging his hammer back over his shoulder where it had previously been kept. Whatever had landed on the floor was not making any more noise.
“JAGO! WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!” Lynn cried.
”I had to deal with an annoyance,” he answered, and that was all the explanation he gave.
“You might warn me next time,” Uldi suggested, “that almost hit me.”
”There was no time,” he insisted, “and I knew you would avoid it.”
Although Uldi was not so happy with Jago’s trigger-happy nature, she thought it best to stay close by him, seeing as he claimed to know the way out. She did, however, stand out of hammer’s length from him now. After two more minutes of hiking, they saw a faint light ahead. The light did not illuminate their current position though, and they had to walk for five more minutes before the cave began to brighten around them.
With the area now faintly lit, the two ladies could see what Jago had been ‘seeing’ this whole time. They were in what seemed to be an underground passage, and the tunnel was huge. It was made of limestone, or something similar, and a mist filled the air. The tunnel branched off into multiple directions all around them, meaning they could probably have wandered for quite some time.
Then, breaking up their intake of the scenery, a gargoyle peaked from a crevice in the side of the cavern. Even in the dim light, Uldi and Lynn could see the grayish stone wings of the creature tucked behind it. The stone imp was smaller than expected, looking to be about five feet tall. However, every inch of its body was stone, and it must have weighed a few hundred pounds. It stood upright, like a human, and a small tail dragged on the floor a few inches behind it. Its red eyes glowed in the dark, giving the three of them an evil stare.
”Ah, another one,” Jago said, sounding almost concerned.
“They probably inhabit this cave,” Uldi concluded.
”It is your turn to impress me, Uldi Skadisdottir.”
Uldi recognized this particular vein of gargoyle. The reddish streaks across its back indicated that it was an underworld gargoyle, the kind that usually do not venture far from home. These little guys were incredibly strong, and their sheer physical strength rivaled even Jago’s. They were extremely fast as well, able to run circles around larger opponents. Furthermore, they could go airborne at a moment’s notice to get out of harm’s way. They could continue fighting even after sustaining incredible amounts of damage, such as having all four limbs removed, by flying up and simply trying to plow into an opponent headfirst.
The creature, realizing it had been spotted, emerged from its hiding place.
It looked upset.
Making demons upset usually has dire consequences...
-------------
OoC: PM's people.
I'm still working on the last couple, but I figured I'd put these up anyway.
Jago calmly stepped forward into one of the doors, having positioned himself near it before the ceiling started shaking. When the roof did finally collapse, as he had been expecting, he had already been clear of danger for a good ten seconds. Lynn promptly followed; staying close to the giant had been her ticket to an easy ride thus far.
Lynn watched as the flying shrapnel exploded all around her, the force of the wind reaching around Jago and nearly kocking her over anyway. As the pile of stone obstructed the doorway, the only light entering the tunnel was shut out. It was pitch black. The sound of water dripping from the ceiling was the only noise preventing complete silence.
”Hello, Uldi Skadisdottir.”
The lack of any lighting did not prevent Jago from noticing the presence of the broadsword-wielding woman.
“Hello, Jago,” she responded simply.
“Uldi, are you okay?” Lynn asked, a hint of concern lining her voice.
“I am fine, child,” Uldi assured her.
Lynn felt a massive, calloused hand wrap around hers, and recognized it to be Jago’s.
”Follow me. I can lead us out of this cave.”
The group progressed through the cavern, led only by Jago’s radar-like Truth and Uldi’s inexplicable knack for directions even in the dark. Despite Jago’s confidence, however, they did not find an exit after ten minutes of walking.
“Are you sure you know the way out, Jago?” Uldi questioned.
Jago pulled his lips into an invisible grin. Ever since he had found the Truth, his outlook on life itself had changed. He had no more concept of ‘lost’ or ‘uncertain.’ There would be no more ‘surprises’ or ‘ambushes,’ nor would there ever be another ‘secret.’ So long as he had the Truth, such earthly notions were no longer his concern.
He felt the walls and the floor, as well as the moisture dripping off them in this damp, vaporous cavern. He felt the individual cracks in the floor, and every bump on the rough ceiling. He felt every stalagmite, every stalactite, and every possible pitfall on the floor. He felt every obstruction that might trip or hurt the two he was guiding, and he knew where every path led. He felt the air around him, and he felt as it swirled around in his lungs. He even felt every fold in the fabric of his own clothing, plus the clothing of his companions. He felt every curve of their bodies, though not in an indulgent sense, and he felt everything from the follicles atop their heads to the droplets on their shoes.
”Trust me, Uldi Skadisdottir, I am not lost.”
Somehow, she doubted his words. He sounded confident enough, true, but if there were an exit nearby, she would certainly have sensed it by now.
Suddenly, Uldi felt a pair of disturbances in the air. One was coming at her from behind, the other from the front. She instinctively ducked and felt a whoosh of air passing a fraction of an inch over her head, followed by the crunching sound of stone against stone. A shriek of anguish was halfway shouted before the creature’s vocal cords were ground to dust. The cry of pain died mere moments after it began, and the sound of a falling body collapsing to the floor right next to Uldi was quite unnerving.
She pieced it together in her mind after a second had passed:
Jago had swung his hammer at her. At her face, no less. She had felt the disturbance in the air and ducked moments before the fatal blow had landed. Rather than hit her, the hammer had continued on and hit something behind her that had been swooping in from above. Something alive.
She now heard Jago slinging his hammer back over his shoulder where it had previously been kept. Whatever had landed on the floor was not making any more noise.
“JAGO! WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!” Lynn cried.
”I had to deal with an annoyance,” he answered, and that was all the explanation he gave.
“You might warn me next time,” Uldi suggested, “that almost hit me.”
”There was no time,” he insisted, “and I knew you would avoid it.”
Although Uldi was not so happy with Jago’s trigger-happy nature, she thought it best to stay close by him, seeing as he claimed to know the way out. She did, however, stand out of hammer’s length from him now. After two more minutes of hiking, they saw a faint light ahead. The light did not illuminate their current position though, and they had to walk for five more minutes before the cave began to brighten around them.
With the area now faintly lit, the two ladies could see what Jago had been ‘seeing’ this whole time. They were in what seemed to be an underground passage, and the tunnel was huge. It was made of limestone, or something similar, and a mist filled the air. The tunnel branched off into multiple directions all around them, meaning they could probably have wandered for quite some time.
Then, breaking up their intake of the scenery, a gargoyle peaked from a crevice in the side of the cavern. Even in the dim light, Uldi and Lynn could see the grayish stone wings of the creature tucked behind it. The stone imp was smaller than expected, looking to be about five feet tall. However, every inch of its body was stone, and it must have weighed a few hundred pounds. It stood upright, like a human, and a small tail dragged on the floor a few inches behind it. Its red eyes glowed in the dark, giving the three of them an evil stare.
”Ah, another one,” Jago said, sounding almost concerned.
“They probably inhabit this cave,” Uldi concluded.
”It is your turn to impress me, Uldi Skadisdottir.”
Uldi recognized this particular vein of gargoyle. The reddish streaks across its back indicated that it was an underworld gargoyle, the kind that usually do not venture far from home. These little guys were incredibly strong, and their sheer physical strength rivaled even Jago’s. They were extremely fast as well, able to run circles around larger opponents. Furthermore, they could go airborne at a moment’s notice to get out of harm’s way. They could continue fighting even after sustaining incredible amounts of damage, such as having all four limbs removed, by flying up and simply trying to plow into an opponent headfirst.
The creature, realizing it had been spotted, emerged from its hiding place.
It looked upset.
Making demons upset usually has dire consequences...
-------------
OoC: PM's people.
I'm still working on the last couple, but I figured I'd put these up anyway.
-
Firestorm
- Member
- Posts: 2332
- Joined: Wed Jul 12, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: An asylum for the criminally stupid
Star Fox?
Ionic Fox was lying face down on the ground, completely motionless. The rise and fall of his upper torso, however, remained constant. He slowly opened his eyes after five minutes of painful rest, re-entering the world of the awake. What he saw came as a shock:
The floor under him was not stone, as it should be, but metallic. The stainless steel floor under him was drastically out of place. He slowly turned his head, sizing up his surrounding. And then he almost started laughing.
The entire floor was made of a semi-reflective metal, and the ceiling was lined with tubular flourescent lights. The walls were constructed of white tile squares, and the grout between them was spotless. Indeed, the entire hallway looked like a medical ward, completely free of any dust or stains. Perfectly spotless. The immaculate walls and ceilings stretched on for thirty feet in front of him until it ended with a massive steel blast door, yellow caution tape running across it. Behind stood another blast door, not the pile of rubble that should have been there after the collapse.
How...?
He slowly pulled himself to his feet, his head throbbing. He had taken a decent sized chunk of rock to the head as he dove through the opening, but his memory was still clear enough to know he had not jmuped through a blast door.
Where did they take me? Or did they...?
He walked towards the blast door, stopping to examine the doors lining the hall. When he approached a door on the left of the hall, he found a keypad next to the door. There was no doorknob. He could not read the strange writing on the pad, so he pressed the largest button on it. The door slid open wi th a whoosh, a blast of cool air escaping the room. Fox poked his head inside, and found that he was in a medical supply room. This room was just as spotless as the hallway, and the various tables and cabinets around the room were littered with stethoscopes, blood test kits, first aid boxes, syringes, and numerous other medical paraphernalia.
Finding that room a dead end, Fox turned back to hall and tried the door on the right. This one, however, was more interesting. Expecting to find another medical room, Fox was startled to find a giant computer taking up half the wall space of this room. He could make out several workstations and desks scattered around the room, computers on each one. This room was not lit, and he fumbled on the wall till he found a lightswitch. When he flicked it on, however, the lights did not activate. Rather, the giant monitor lit up and served to illuminate the room. Displayed on the screen was a starmap, showing the layout of some solar system. The system had five planets and one red giant star.
Then, he noticed the one detail that made him cringe. A tiny logo on the screen between the second and third planets...
Oh no... please... don’t tell me...
He walked closer to read the tiny lettering under the little spaceship logo:
You are here.
Fox stumbled backwards from the screen, trying to process the information.
Impossible! I was in a castle! I can’t be in space... this must be a trick!
He turned and exited the room fast as he could. Upon reaching the hallway, he pivoted on his foot and ran to the blast door at the end of the hall. He slammed his fist onto the keypad and the blast door slowly unlocked. The sound of a laser grid deactivating resonated inside the door, and then the door parted with a diagonal split. The massive plates of steel slid from view, revealing exactly what Fox had not wanted to see:
A docking bay.
He was standing at the front door to a control room. Four stations adorned the room, and a giant plexiglass window on his right overlooked a hangar that stretched for literally a mile. The hangar was housing about seventeen or eighteen different spacecraft of varying sizes and purposes, with lights in the floor like a runway and a huge airlock at the end opposite his location.
This must be the control room for launching the spacecraft. Maybe I can find a map and fly home? Or put it on autopilot or something? There’s got to be a way out of this mess...
And then, Fox noticed one last little detail. A little red circle on his chest, making its way toward his heart. He dove behind the first control terminal just as a loud BANG rang out from the other end of the room. A bullet ricocheted off the wall near the blast door, in the exact spot he had been standing. He could hear rapid footsteps as the gunman took cover behind a desk. The red light was now scanning the floor near the edge of the desk he was hiding behind. The desk was made of metal, so he had little worry of being shot from the other side, but he could not risk looking around. The desk was bolted to the floor, preventing him from sliding it with him.
It was a waiting game now.
The red circle disappeared as the sniper turned off his laser sight, preventing Fox from seeing where he was aiming. Fox pulled out his rifle and held perfectly still. He nervously fingered the weapon as sweatdrops began building up on his forehead. He heard one final shift from the other end of the room as the marksman set up to watch the desk, resolving that Fox would never step out from behind that desk in one piece.
I can sit here all day...
Ionic Fox was lying face down on the ground, completely motionless. The rise and fall of his upper torso, however, remained constant. He slowly opened his eyes after five minutes of painful rest, re-entering the world of the awake. What he saw came as a shock:
The floor under him was not stone, as it should be, but metallic. The stainless steel floor under him was drastically out of place. He slowly turned his head, sizing up his surrounding. And then he almost started laughing.
The entire floor was made of a semi-reflective metal, and the ceiling was lined with tubular flourescent lights. The walls were constructed of white tile squares, and the grout between them was spotless. Indeed, the entire hallway looked like a medical ward, completely free of any dust or stains. Perfectly spotless. The immaculate walls and ceilings stretched on for thirty feet in front of him until it ended with a massive steel blast door, yellow caution tape running across it. Behind stood another blast door, not the pile of rubble that should have been there after the collapse.
How...?
He slowly pulled himself to his feet, his head throbbing. He had taken a decent sized chunk of rock to the head as he dove through the opening, but his memory was still clear enough to know he had not jmuped through a blast door.
Where did they take me? Or did they...?
He walked towards the blast door, stopping to examine the doors lining the hall. When he approached a door on the left of the hall, he found a keypad next to the door. There was no doorknob. He could not read the strange writing on the pad, so he pressed the largest button on it. The door slid open wi th a whoosh, a blast of cool air escaping the room. Fox poked his head inside, and found that he was in a medical supply room. This room was just as spotless as the hallway, and the various tables and cabinets around the room were littered with stethoscopes, blood test kits, first aid boxes, syringes, and numerous other medical paraphernalia.
Finding that room a dead end, Fox turned back to hall and tried the door on the right. This one, however, was more interesting. Expecting to find another medical room, Fox was startled to find a giant computer taking up half the wall space of this room. He could make out several workstations and desks scattered around the room, computers on each one. This room was not lit, and he fumbled on the wall till he found a lightswitch. When he flicked it on, however, the lights did not activate. Rather, the giant monitor lit up and served to illuminate the room. Displayed on the screen was a starmap, showing the layout of some solar system. The system had five planets and one red giant star.
Then, he noticed the one detail that made him cringe. A tiny logo on the screen between the second and third planets...
Oh no... please... don’t tell me...
He walked closer to read the tiny lettering under the little spaceship logo:
You are here.
Fox stumbled backwards from the screen, trying to process the information.
Impossible! I was in a castle! I can’t be in space... this must be a trick!
He turned and exited the room fast as he could. Upon reaching the hallway, he pivoted on his foot and ran to the blast door at the end of the hall. He slammed his fist onto the keypad and the blast door slowly unlocked. The sound of a laser grid deactivating resonated inside the door, and then the door parted with a diagonal split. The massive plates of steel slid from view, revealing exactly what Fox had not wanted to see:
A docking bay.
He was standing at the front door to a control room. Four stations adorned the room, and a giant plexiglass window on his right overlooked a hangar that stretched for literally a mile. The hangar was housing about seventeen or eighteen different spacecraft of varying sizes and purposes, with lights in the floor like a runway and a huge airlock at the end opposite his location.
This must be the control room for launching the spacecraft. Maybe I can find a map and fly home? Or put it on autopilot or something? There’s got to be a way out of this mess...
And then, Fox noticed one last little detail. A little red circle on his chest, making its way toward his heart. He dove behind the first control terminal just as a loud BANG rang out from the other end of the room. A bullet ricocheted off the wall near the blast door, in the exact spot he had been standing. He could hear rapid footsteps as the gunman took cover behind a desk. The red light was now scanning the floor near the edge of the desk he was hiding behind. The desk was made of metal, so he had little worry of being shot from the other side, but he could not risk looking around. The desk was bolted to the floor, preventing him from sliding it with him.
It was a waiting game now.
The red circle disappeared as the sniper turned off his laser sight, preventing Fox from seeing where he was aiming. Fox pulled out his rifle and held perfectly still. He nervously fingered the weapon as sweatdrops began building up on his forehead. He heard one final shift from the other end of the room as the marksman set up to watch the desk, resolving that Fox would never step out from behind that desk in one piece.
I can sit here all day...
-
Repster
- Member
- Posts: 6130
- Joined: Tue Jun 06, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: J'tun ostie d'Acadien.
Ooc: Note for the future. Aidan does not drink wine often, quite rarely in fact. Wine has a FAR to low alcohol content to satisfy his usual taste. Hence the most horrid brew he ever drank, more moonshine then whiskey, being the contents of his flask. Small point in the long run, but it's been a part of Aidan since his conception. If it cannot be used as an explosive, it ain't strong enough for Aidan. Now then, enough about that.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
The was a shift in the barrels. Shift, lurch, shift. At the top of the pile lifted up, the monk stepped aside and replaced it. There was no use in waisting the stuff by breaking through. Children, and those who could not take there liquor, needed to drink to. Punch of pansies really...
He lept away from the barrels. The cyclops fist a scant inch away from his face, his body arching to ensure it. His hand pressed lighting against the thick hide and used it a point of leverage to avoid it's second fist. It was slow, and it was clumsy. Aidan was fast, graceful, and could anchor himself upside down on a slick surface. Running along that swollen tree trunk of an arm was no problem.
Aidan's Odysseus met this cyclops' Polyphemus, and much like in said mythical clash, Dreiks fiery fist, covered in white fire from the moment it neared penetration it was, dug deep into cyclops bowling ball sized eye and as he tore out a chunk of the cornea, he tore out it's sight. The monk lept off as the creature's hands went uselessly to it's face, screaming in agony and loss.
Aidan chuckled at the monster as he landed without a sound. Such a thing to strike fear into the eyes of men, twice as tall as a taller man and with impossible strength for it's massive girth. The cyclops recovered from the initial shock and remember just what it was doing. It repeated it's thought, if only to reaffirm it's goal to itself.
"ME SMASH YOU!"
It's fist crash into where Aidan had been heard last. The stone floor cracked and shattered. The monk tisked, and his own fist stuck flesh. The much larger arm recoiled in pain as the flesh hissed from the flames of Aidan's strike.
The cyclops second arm whipped out even as the first recoiled. The monk stood there and stared at it. A rather powerful hook, and he knew such thing. Very sloppy however. He did adjust his opinion of his opponent slightly as it's entire weight was behind that punch. Then he dropped it right back down, because it's entire weight was in the punch. Sightless, the blind giant never saw the golden eyed one's smirk. Perhaps it would have pulled back seeing it, perhaps not.
Aidan calmly, with the assurance, discipline, and instincts of hundred of years of martial combat, almost gently place his hand on the wrist that came to crush him. He jerked forward over his head, and put his every muscle into it. The floor trembled as the eyeless crashed against it. The blow resonating in every fiber of it's skeleton. Aidan had already released, letting physics run it's course. Soundless, impossibly light steps brought him around. The cyclops began flailing around as it got up. Groping wildly trying to find the monk. The madman's laughter slowly seeped out. Unfortunately for the massive monster, said laughter came form what it perceived as everywhere .
It sniffed the air, and felt it against it's oily fat filled skin. It was warmer over there, and it could smell the wine that had broken over the monk. It charge, planning to squish the intruder. It fell, and Aidan's laughter only grew more and more vigorous. Madness seeping into every decibel. He drew his hands back and pushed them forward, as if his open palms could stop the incredible weight about to be dropped on him. They did, or rater what came from them did. Fire, oh so much fire, fire with such raw pressure from the very air waiting to go up so very badly.
Aidan however, was the bearer of the eternal flame. He was no simple mage, wizard, sorcerer, spell caster, elementalist, channeler, or countless other names. He was fire, his will was the flame. This had the effect of him not wanting the flames to shoot out, burn and thrown aside. That would have been far to easy. He had just enough pressure and intensity from the bright orange fire to stop the cyclops in mid air, and keep him there.
The fire stopped. Not from lack of strength, not from lack of focus, but for lack of Aidan not being there as the flailing cyclops landed a lucky hit. Aidan skidded on the ground. That damn thing packed a punch. He got up, wounds flaring up and closing, bruised flesh mending. He snapped his dislocated shoulder back into place, and it regenerate as much in the same fashion. He laughter never stopped, his fist caught aflame once again, and he stepped forward. Enough playing around, it was time to kill this thing and move on. He had some lovely ladies to find, as well as a book, some dudes, and the reason he was here in the first place. Not to mention find whoever triggered that bloody trap and hurt poor Delilah. She was so young...
Ooc: Edit for note # 2 : Aidan's pants do not stain, or dirty, etc. It is possible to rip them and the separated piece will act as normal silk. Yet the pants themselves will not show any evidence of the rip.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
The was a shift in the barrels. Shift, lurch, shift. At the top of the pile lifted up, the monk stepped aside and replaced it. There was no use in waisting the stuff by breaking through. Children, and those who could not take there liquor, needed to drink to. Punch of pansies really...
He lept away from the barrels. The cyclops fist a scant inch away from his face, his body arching to ensure it. His hand pressed lighting against the thick hide and used it a point of leverage to avoid it's second fist. It was slow, and it was clumsy. Aidan was fast, graceful, and could anchor himself upside down on a slick surface. Running along that swollen tree trunk of an arm was no problem.
Aidan's Odysseus met this cyclops' Polyphemus, and much like in said mythical clash, Dreiks fiery fist, covered in white fire from the moment it neared penetration it was, dug deep into cyclops bowling ball sized eye and as he tore out a chunk of the cornea, he tore out it's sight. The monk lept off as the creature's hands went uselessly to it's face, screaming in agony and loss.
Aidan chuckled at the monster as he landed without a sound. Such a thing to strike fear into the eyes of men, twice as tall as a taller man and with impossible strength for it's massive girth. The cyclops recovered from the initial shock and remember just what it was doing. It repeated it's thought, if only to reaffirm it's goal to itself.
"ME SMASH YOU!"
It's fist crash into where Aidan had been heard last. The stone floor cracked and shattered. The monk tisked, and his own fist stuck flesh. The much larger arm recoiled in pain as the flesh hissed from the flames of Aidan's strike.
The cyclops second arm whipped out even as the first recoiled. The monk stood there and stared at it. A rather powerful hook, and he knew such thing. Very sloppy however. He did adjust his opinion of his opponent slightly as it's entire weight was behind that punch. Then he dropped it right back down, because it's entire weight was in the punch. Sightless, the blind giant never saw the golden eyed one's smirk. Perhaps it would have pulled back seeing it, perhaps not.
Aidan calmly, with the assurance, discipline, and instincts of hundred of years of martial combat, almost gently place his hand on the wrist that came to crush him. He jerked forward over his head, and put his every muscle into it. The floor trembled as the eyeless crashed against it. The blow resonating in every fiber of it's skeleton. Aidan had already released, letting physics run it's course. Soundless, impossibly light steps brought him around. The cyclops began flailing around as it got up. Groping wildly trying to find the monk. The madman's laughter slowly seeped out. Unfortunately for the massive monster, said laughter came form what it perceived as everywhere .
It sniffed the air, and felt it against it's oily fat filled skin. It was warmer over there, and it could smell the wine that had broken over the monk. It charge, planning to squish the intruder. It fell, and Aidan's laughter only grew more and more vigorous. Madness seeping into every decibel. He drew his hands back and pushed them forward, as if his open palms could stop the incredible weight about to be dropped on him. They did, or rater what came from them did. Fire, oh so much fire, fire with such raw pressure from the very air waiting to go up so very badly.
Aidan however, was the bearer of the eternal flame. He was no simple mage, wizard, sorcerer, spell caster, elementalist, channeler, or countless other names. He was fire, his will was the flame. This had the effect of him not wanting the flames to shoot out, burn and thrown aside. That would have been far to easy. He had just enough pressure and intensity from the bright orange fire to stop the cyclops in mid air, and keep him there.
The fire stopped. Not from lack of strength, not from lack of focus, but for lack of Aidan not being there as the flailing cyclops landed a lucky hit. Aidan skidded on the ground. That damn thing packed a punch. He got up, wounds flaring up and closing, bruised flesh mending. He snapped his dislocated shoulder back into place, and it regenerate as much in the same fashion. He laughter never stopped, his fist caught aflame once again, and he stepped forward. Enough playing around, it was time to kill this thing and move on. He had some lovely ladies to find, as well as a book, some dudes, and the reason he was here in the first place. Not to mention find whoever triggered that bloody trap and hurt poor Delilah. She was so young...
Ooc: Edit for note # 2 : Aidan's pants do not stain, or dirty, etc. It is possible to rip them and the separated piece will act as normal silk. Yet the pants themselves will not show any evidence of the rip.
When our world is burning.
When all run like the cowards they are.
I shall stand in the inferno, and fight until I am consumed
When all run like the cowards they are.
I shall stand in the inferno, and fight until I am consumed
-
::Abbadon::
- Member
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Sat Jun 23, 2007 8:04 pm
- Location: Vegas
-
Firestorm
- Member
- Posts: 2332
- Joined: Wed Jul 12, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: An asylum for the criminally stupid
The Shroud
OoC:
Okay then, pretend it's whiskey, you picky person you.
------------------------------------
Jen Kai, Sheharazhad, and Firestorm safely ducked into one of the doorways with a few seconds to spare. At the last possible moment before he would have been crushed, Abbadon also stepped through, the massive pile of stone and glass smashing and shattering on the ground behind him. He looked unconcerned as the cave-in missed him by less than two inches.
“A warm welcome, indeed,” the demon king said.
Jen Kai looked at the demon with disgust.
Wonderful. Why’d I have to get stuck with him?
Jen Kai’s dirty look did not go unnoticed as they began walking. Their environment had seemingly changed from the stone castle in the previous room. They were in what appeared to be an underground tunnel, complete with limestone walls and a vaporous mist hanging in the air. The tunnel itself had no light source, but three of the four visitors emitted their own light sources. Jen Kai seemed perpetually followed by a heavenly glow, and being in this dark environment did not change that. His armor and sword both glowed in the dark, casting eerie shadows on the wall in the shape of his comrades. Sheharazhad’s lightsaber lived up to its nickname as the “deadly glowstick” and illuminated the area. The gem set in the top of Abbadon’s staff seemed to brighten upon entering the tunnel. The electricity that ran up and down the length of Abbadon’s wooden staff also intensified, as if the mere presence of eletrical wood alone was not sufficiently inexplicable.
All three of them looked at Firestorm as if to say, “Where’s your trick?” Jen Kai chose to voice the question. “Firestorm, what happened to the ethereal flames that once engulfed you in battle? Can you not summon them in this darkness?”
“Unfortunately, Jen Kai, my ‘ethereal flames’ are gone for good. I can’t use them anymore.”
Sheharazhad raised an eyebrow at that lie. She could tell that Jen Kai was referring to Firestorm’s aura, which he manifested in battle. Unlike Jen Kai, however, she understood what ki was. If Firestorm’s life essence were truly gone, he would be dead already.
Jen Kai, however, had never understood the nature of life force in the first place and took Firestorm’s words at face value.
“Unfortunate. The flames were a potent weapon in the battle against evil.” He seemed to shoot a glance at Abbadon yet again as he made this statement.
They began trekking down the tunnel without discussion; it went without saying that trying to go back was pointless. As they journeyed through the tunnel, the mist that hung in the air grew thicker and obstructed their vision. They could see no more than ten feet in front of them, and they had to watch their steps carefully. The tunnel ws not particularly smooth.
“Abbadon, why are you here?” Firestorm finally asked, and then continued, “and how are you alive?”
“Simple,” the royal demon replied, “I am here because I am a debtor to no man. You helped me defend my homeland, even if it was not what you were trying to do, and my kingdom as a whole owes you one. I am here to repay that debt. Secondly, I am alive because demons are, by nature, very hard to kill. Even if someone eventually does kill me, I will not pass on. Rather, my essence will return to the Abyss and regenerate into another bodily form.”
“Listen to this nonsense,” Jen Kai interrupted, “Firestorm, how could you recruit a demon to help you? And Ranto, for that matter? He’s even worse than Abbadon!”
Abbadon did not even bother responding to the insults. Instead, he looked straight ahead and kept walking, further angering the Paladin.
“Listen, Jen Kai,” Firestorm reasoned, “we need all the help we can get. If Abbadon wants to even the score, I’m not going to deny him. And as for Ranto... he has unique skills that I may need to assist me later on. Don’t you trust me, Jen Kai?”
The Paladin did not answer. Firestorm’s answer had not satisfied him in the slightest, and the issue of trust was not one that he wanted to address.
-------------------------------------------------------
Hmmmm.... those two might solve my problem for me...
Lukios observed them from an unknown location.
He whispered an ancient incantion to himself as he prepared a trap to separate them...
-------------------------------------------------------
Sheharazhad wanted to berate the Paladin for his harsh words and actions, but he DID have a point. Firestorm had made a “deal with the devil” for lack of a better term, and enlisted the help of an ancient demon. This was fairly uncharacteristic of him; he usually solved his own problems. When he did need help, he would turn to his very capable friends, not seek help from strangers or demons. That other Mordorian did not seem all that nice, either. True, he smiled and had some charisma to him, but just standing near him back in the forest had sent chills down her spine.
The Paladin is probably right....
As she pondered this, she noticed that a narrow portion of tunnel was coming into view. It like a tunnel within a tunnel; the entire passage coming to a dead end, but a small opening in the wall. She pointed at the entrance wordlessly.
Without hesitation, Jen Kai started to enter the opening. However, he quickly backed out.
“Guys... take a look at this.”
The smaller tunnel was just a pitch black as their current tunnel, with one exception: all the light emitting from the group seemed to be absorbed into this new tunnel. Like a sponge, the rays of light coming from the three of them soaked into the almost tangible blackness inside the small opening.
“It’s a darkness shroud,” Abbadon told them, “I’ve seen them before. It is an area infestic with demonic power, and much like a black hole, no light escapes it. It should be safe to walk through, though I wouldn’t suggest you spend the night. Observe.”
Abbadon stepped into the darkness, his footsteps reaching back to the other three as he walked. Jen Kai looked suspicious.
Maybe it’s safe for him to go through, but what about us?
“All right, let’s go,” Firestorm said as he stepped into the crevice. He seemed fine as he walked.
Sheharazhad followed next, leaving the Paladin to bring up the rear.
The Paladin slowly followed Sheharazhad...
-------------------------------------------
Abbadon emerged from the tunnel some two minutes later, unscathed. Jen Kai emerged moments later, and recoiled when he found just he and Abbadon standing there.
I followed the woman... where is she? And Firestorm was before her!
The two of them waited for five minutes before Jen Kai had had enough.
“What did you do?” Jen Kai demanded of Abbadon.
“Don’t jump to conclusions, boy,” Abbadon retaliated, “I did nothing.”
“Liar! You’re the one who said it was safe!”
“I’m telling you, I had nothing to do with it. Now use your head for a change and quit being stupid!”
“We’ll see about that!” Jen Kai yelled as he drew his sword.
The weapon was exquisite, with what appeared to be a crystal blade and a golden handle wrapped with velvet lining. It seemed as if it belonged in a display case somewhere, except that it was sharpened to the point of being deadly. It was, without doubt, a dangerous weapon.
“The Light will test you, fiend!” Jen Kai hissed as he pointed his sword at the demon.
“{Light of Revelation!}”
Abbadon raised his staff in defense of the incoming light beam, but the light passed through his staff as though it were not really there. Abbadon gritted his teeth, expecting a painful impact. Instead, however, he found that the light was not an attack. The golden ray hit his chest and phased through it much as it had with his staff. It was as though the light had entered him and was presently searching through his soul.
Aftera moment’s hesitation, Jen Kai lowered his sword. Abbadon was thoroughly confused.
“I guess you’re telling the truth this time, demon,“ Jen Kai concluded as he put his sword away, “or the light would have torn you apart. No one lies to the light.”
“Hmph.”
And so Jen Kai’s suspicions were abated. However, he still did not like being stuck with a demon for an ally. It was as if fate were playing a cruel joke on him. Abbadon seemed to enjoy the situation, holding in the laughter the entire time.
They walked for ten minutes in silence before Abbadon posed a question.
“Where did you say you came from, Paladin?”
“Mordor, right above the Dejenol Mine.”
“Did you say ‘Dejenol?’”
“Yes... why?”
“No reason... just thought I might have heard it before.”
NOW what’s he hiding?
When the two of them finally reached the end of the corridor, they emerged into a large auditorium. They were in what appeared to be an occult cathedral of massive proportions, with huge stained glass windows lining the room and marble columns supproting the ceiling. Dark statues of demonic beings along either side of the room hinted at the foul nature of this place. The pews filling the center of the room stretched on for the length of a football field, probably capable of seating well over a couple thousand people.
This room had no lighting either, and due to the size of it, the glow coming from the two warriors failed to illuminate it. Abbadon could see just fine, coming from a realm of perpetual darkness, and Jen Kai could also make out the entire room. Being a Paladin helped, as the light inside him gave him supernatural sight. Spending a couple years wandering through pitch black caves had also helped.
“Ah.... lovely.” Abbadon commented.
Jen Kai seemed enraged at the surroundings; the concept of demon worship so far foreign to him that he hardly accepted this place’s existence. They slowly progressed through the temple of darkness and found a massive stone altar at base of the raised platform.
And then, they saw it.
Lying on the altar was a horribly deformed and twisted monster, seemingly asleep. It was human-sized and human-shaped, but the evil aura surrounding it was definitely not human. As soon as they layed eyes on it, the creature awoke. It sat up immediately, affording them a better glimpse of it. It had considerably large black wings, and wore no clothing. It had tattoos running up and down the length of its body... or were they scars? It had two horns, reminiscent of a ram’s horns. Its skin was pale, like Abbadon, and it had broken chains hanging from each of its limbs.
The demon tore one final chain from around its neck as it leaped off the table, landing with a crunch on its armored feet. The claws from its feet dug into the carpet, and the chains dragged behind it as it approached.
“Stop right there,” Abbadon and Jen Kai said in unison before looking at each other.
“You are mine, demon,” Abbadon declared, “Kneel now or suffer!”
The demon ignored him and continued its steady advance, slowly narrowing the distance between them.
“This... this is an abomination!” Jen Kai yelled as he again drew his sword. “I’ll deal with both of you, right now! No more demons will leave this place alive!”
He jumped away from Abbadon, and the three of them were left standing in a triangular formation.
“You will regret this decision, Paladin,” Abbadon informed him, “I do not tolerate traitors.”
“I am no traitor, Abbadon,” Jen Kai told him, “I never declared loyalty to you. I will no longer sit by and watch your kind of scum haunt this realm. Even if you are Firestorm’s ally, you are certainly no friend of mine.”
“And neither is he,” Abbadon said, pointing at the demon now standing almost within striking distance.
And with the demonic creature’s ferocious leap toward Abbadon, the three-way free-for-all began.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Firestorm finally stepped out of the shroud, expecting to find Abbadon. Instead, he was alone. The tunnel on this side seemed identical to the side they had just come from, save for the absence of Abbadon. Sheharazhad stepped through moments later.
“Where’s Abbadon?”
“Gone, from what I can tell.”
After waiting a few minutes, they also concluded that Jen Kai was gone, too.
“You don’t think...” Sheharazhad started...
“they’re fighting each other?” Firestorm finished, “It’s very possible. Jen Kai won’t tolerate underworld filth for very long without me around. Not that I was very fond of the demon anyway, but he is very potent. It would be a shame if they kill each other. But, we can’t afford to wait here. I think I know where they are, anyway. Let’s go.”
It only took them two minutes of walking to reach the end of this new tunnel. When they found the mouth of the tunnel, they looked out over the expanse before them. In the massive cavern that now stretched front of them, they could see an underground replica of a Roman Coliseum. The arena was sunk into the earth some hundred feet ahead of them, and it looked perfectly preserved. The stone walls of the structure were intact, despite being sunk into a crater. The massive steps that lined the coliseum and also served as seating for spectators were all in one piece, save a few crumbling sections. It was like tearing a page out of encyclopedia. The columns that ran around the perimeter were standing straight, mocking the years that had passed as incapable of deteriorating them.
”Firestorm! Come down here and fight me!”
The voice beckoned from the center of the arena, far below them. Firestorm seemed to recognize it.
“Ironhand,” he muttered, “he’s pretty tough. I’ve fought him four times in the past, and we’re tied right now. I guess he wants a tie breaker match. But... I can’t fight him right now.”
“What do you mean you can’t fight?” Sheharazhad said, her voice raising slightly, “I thought you were the one who started this raid?!”
“I did! And the reason I brought so many reinforcements is because I can’t fight them myself! Please, Sheharazhad, for old time’s sake, just trust me. Go defeat this guy and we can move on. Don’t you trust me?”
“....
....
.... I trust you, Firestorm. Nothing can change that. But you owe me some answers when this is over.”
Faced with this predicament, Sheharazhad consented to fight Firestorm’s battle for him and began to descend the coliseum steps.
OoC:
Okay then, pretend it's whiskey, you picky person you.
------------------------------------
Jen Kai, Sheharazhad, and Firestorm safely ducked into one of the doorways with a few seconds to spare. At the last possible moment before he would have been crushed, Abbadon also stepped through, the massive pile of stone and glass smashing and shattering on the ground behind him. He looked unconcerned as the cave-in missed him by less than two inches.
“A warm welcome, indeed,” the demon king said.
Jen Kai looked at the demon with disgust.
Wonderful. Why’d I have to get stuck with him?
Jen Kai’s dirty look did not go unnoticed as they began walking. Their environment had seemingly changed from the stone castle in the previous room. They were in what appeared to be an underground tunnel, complete with limestone walls and a vaporous mist hanging in the air. The tunnel itself had no light source, but three of the four visitors emitted their own light sources. Jen Kai seemed perpetually followed by a heavenly glow, and being in this dark environment did not change that. His armor and sword both glowed in the dark, casting eerie shadows on the wall in the shape of his comrades. Sheharazhad’s lightsaber lived up to its nickname as the “deadly glowstick” and illuminated the area. The gem set in the top of Abbadon’s staff seemed to brighten upon entering the tunnel. The electricity that ran up and down the length of Abbadon’s wooden staff also intensified, as if the mere presence of eletrical wood alone was not sufficiently inexplicable.
All three of them looked at Firestorm as if to say, “Where’s your trick?” Jen Kai chose to voice the question. “Firestorm, what happened to the ethereal flames that once engulfed you in battle? Can you not summon them in this darkness?”
“Unfortunately, Jen Kai, my ‘ethereal flames’ are gone for good. I can’t use them anymore.”
Sheharazhad raised an eyebrow at that lie. She could tell that Jen Kai was referring to Firestorm’s aura, which he manifested in battle. Unlike Jen Kai, however, she understood what ki was. If Firestorm’s life essence were truly gone, he would be dead already.
Jen Kai, however, had never understood the nature of life force in the first place and took Firestorm’s words at face value.
“Unfortunate. The flames were a potent weapon in the battle against evil.” He seemed to shoot a glance at Abbadon yet again as he made this statement.
They began trekking down the tunnel without discussion; it went without saying that trying to go back was pointless. As they journeyed through the tunnel, the mist that hung in the air grew thicker and obstructed their vision. They could see no more than ten feet in front of them, and they had to watch their steps carefully. The tunnel ws not particularly smooth.
“Abbadon, why are you here?” Firestorm finally asked, and then continued, “and how are you alive?”
“Simple,” the royal demon replied, “I am here because I am a debtor to no man. You helped me defend my homeland, even if it was not what you were trying to do, and my kingdom as a whole owes you one. I am here to repay that debt. Secondly, I am alive because demons are, by nature, very hard to kill. Even if someone eventually does kill me, I will not pass on. Rather, my essence will return to the Abyss and regenerate into another bodily form.”
“Listen to this nonsense,” Jen Kai interrupted, “Firestorm, how could you recruit a demon to help you? And Ranto, for that matter? He’s even worse than Abbadon!”
Abbadon did not even bother responding to the insults. Instead, he looked straight ahead and kept walking, further angering the Paladin.
“Listen, Jen Kai,” Firestorm reasoned, “we need all the help we can get. If Abbadon wants to even the score, I’m not going to deny him. And as for Ranto... he has unique skills that I may need to assist me later on. Don’t you trust me, Jen Kai?”
The Paladin did not answer. Firestorm’s answer had not satisfied him in the slightest, and the issue of trust was not one that he wanted to address.
-------------------------------------------------------
Hmmmm.... those two might solve my problem for me...
Lukios observed them from an unknown location.
He whispered an ancient incantion to himself as he prepared a trap to separate them...
-------------------------------------------------------
Sheharazhad wanted to berate the Paladin for his harsh words and actions, but he DID have a point. Firestorm had made a “deal with the devil” for lack of a better term, and enlisted the help of an ancient demon. This was fairly uncharacteristic of him; he usually solved his own problems. When he did need help, he would turn to his very capable friends, not seek help from strangers or demons. That other Mordorian did not seem all that nice, either. True, he smiled and had some charisma to him, but just standing near him back in the forest had sent chills down her spine.
The Paladin is probably right....
As she pondered this, she noticed that a narrow portion of tunnel was coming into view. It like a tunnel within a tunnel; the entire passage coming to a dead end, but a small opening in the wall. She pointed at the entrance wordlessly.
Without hesitation, Jen Kai started to enter the opening. However, he quickly backed out.
“Guys... take a look at this.”
The smaller tunnel was just a pitch black as their current tunnel, with one exception: all the light emitting from the group seemed to be absorbed into this new tunnel. Like a sponge, the rays of light coming from the three of them soaked into the almost tangible blackness inside the small opening.
“It’s a darkness shroud,” Abbadon told them, “I’ve seen them before. It is an area infestic with demonic power, and much like a black hole, no light escapes it. It should be safe to walk through, though I wouldn’t suggest you spend the night. Observe.”
Abbadon stepped into the darkness, his footsteps reaching back to the other three as he walked. Jen Kai looked suspicious.
Maybe it’s safe for him to go through, but what about us?
“All right, let’s go,” Firestorm said as he stepped into the crevice. He seemed fine as he walked.
Sheharazhad followed next, leaving the Paladin to bring up the rear.
The Paladin slowly followed Sheharazhad...
-------------------------------------------
Abbadon emerged from the tunnel some two minutes later, unscathed. Jen Kai emerged moments later, and recoiled when he found just he and Abbadon standing there.
I followed the woman... where is she? And Firestorm was before her!
The two of them waited for five minutes before Jen Kai had had enough.
“What did you do?” Jen Kai demanded of Abbadon.
“Don’t jump to conclusions, boy,” Abbadon retaliated, “I did nothing.”
“Liar! You’re the one who said it was safe!”
“I’m telling you, I had nothing to do with it. Now use your head for a change and quit being stupid!”
“We’ll see about that!” Jen Kai yelled as he drew his sword.
The weapon was exquisite, with what appeared to be a crystal blade and a golden handle wrapped with velvet lining. It seemed as if it belonged in a display case somewhere, except that it was sharpened to the point of being deadly. It was, without doubt, a dangerous weapon.
“The Light will test you, fiend!” Jen Kai hissed as he pointed his sword at the demon.
“{Light of Revelation!}”
Abbadon raised his staff in defense of the incoming light beam, but the light passed through his staff as though it were not really there. Abbadon gritted his teeth, expecting a painful impact. Instead, however, he found that the light was not an attack. The golden ray hit his chest and phased through it much as it had with his staff. It was as though the light had entered him and was presently searching through his soul.
Aftera moment’s hesitation, Jen Kai lowered his sword. Abbadon was thoroughly confused.
“I guess you’re telling the truth this time, demon,“ Jen Kai concluded as he put his sword away, “or the light would have torn you apart. No one lies to the light.”
“Hmph.”
And so Jen Kai’s suspicions were abated. However, he still did not like being stuck with a demon for an ally. It was as if fate were playing a cruel joke on him. Abbadon seemed to enjoy the situation, holding in the laughter the entire time.
They walked for ten minutes in silence before Abbadon posed a question.
“Where did you say you came from, Paladin?”
“Mordor, right above the Dejenol Mine.”
“Did you say ‘Dejenol?’”
“Yes... why?”
“No reason... just thought I might have heard it before.”
NOW what’s he hiding?
When the two of them finally reached the end of the corridor, they emerged into a large auditorium. They were in what appeared to be an occult cathedral of massive proportions, with huge stained glass windows lining the room and marble columns supproting the ceiling. Dark statues of demonic beings along either side of the room hinted at the foul nature of this place. The pews filling the center of the room stretched on for the length of a football field, probably capable of seating well over a couple thousand people.
This room had no lighting either, and due to the size of it, the glow coming from the two warriors failed to illuminate it. Abbadon could see just fine, coming from a realm of perpetual darkness, and Jen Kai could also make out the entire room. Being a Paladin helped, as the light inside him gave him supernatural sight. Spending a couple years wandering through pitch black caves had also helped.
“Ah.... lovely.” Abbadon commented.
Jen Kai seemed enraged at the surroundings; the concept of demon worship so far foreign to him that he hardly accepted this place’s existence. They slowly progressed through the temple of darkness and found a massive stone altar at base of the raised platform.
And then, they saw it.
Lying on the altar was a horribly deformed and twisted monster, seemingly asleep. It was human-sized and human-shaped, but the evil aura surrounding it was definitely not human. As soon as they layed eyes on it, the creature awoke. It sat up immediately, affording them a better glimpse of it. It had considerably large black wings, and wore no clothing. It had tattoos running up and down the length of its body... or were they scars? It had two horns, reminiscent of a ram’s horns. Its skin was pale, like Abbadon, and it had broken chains hanging from each of its limbs.
The demon tore one final chain from around its neck as it leaped off the table, landing with a crunch on its armored feet. The claws from its feet dug into the carpet, and the chains dragged behind it as it approached.
“Stop right there,” Abbadon and Jen Kai said in unison before looking at each other.
“You are mine, demon,” Abbadon declared, “Kneel now or suffer!”
The demon ignored him and continued its steady advance, slowly narrowing the distance between them.
“This... this is an abomination!” Jen Kai yelled as he again drew his sword. “I’ll deal with both of you, right now! No more demons will leave this place alive!”
He jumped away from Abbadon, and the three of them were left standing in a triangular formation.
“You will regret this decision, Paladin,” Abbadon informed him, “I do not tolerate traitors.”
“I am no traitor, Abbadon,” Jen Kai told him, “I never declared loyalty to you. I will no longer sit by and watch your kind of scum haunt this realm. Even if you are Firestorm’s ally, you are certainly no friend of mine.”
“And neither is he,” Abbadon said, pointing at the demon now standing almost within striking distance.
And with the demonic creature’s ferocious leap toward Abbadon, the three-way free-for-all began.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Firestorm finally stepped out of the shroud, expecting to find Abbadon. Instead, he was alone. The tunnel on this side seemed identical to the side they had just come from, save for the absence of Abbadon. Sheharazhad stepped through moments later.
“Where’s Abbadon?”
“Gone, from what I can tell.”
After waiting a few minutes, they also concluded that Jen Kai was gone, too.
“You don’t think...” Sheharazhad started...
“they’re fighting each other?” Firestorm finished, “It’s very possible. Jen Kai won’t tolerate underworld filth for very long without me around. Not that I was very fond of the demon anyway, but he is very potent. It would be a shame if they kill each other. But, we can’t afford to wait here. I think I know where they are, anyway. Let’s go.”
It only took them two minutes of walking to reach the end of this new tunnel. When they found the mouth of the tunnel, they looked out over the expanse before them. In the massive cavern that now stretched front of them, they could see an underground replica of a Roman Coliseum. The arena was sunk into the earth some hundred feet ahead of them, and it looked perfectly preserved. The stone walls of the structure were intact, despite being sunk into a crater. The massive steps that lined the coliseum and also served as seating for spectators were all in one piece, save a few crumbling sections. It was like tearing a page out of encyclopedia. The columns that ran around the perimeter were standing straight, mocking the years that had passed as incapable of deteriorating them.
”Firestorm! Come down here and fight me!”
The voice beckoned from the center of the arena, far below them. Firestorm seemed to recognize it.
“Ironhand,” he muttered, “he’s pretty tough. I’ve fought him four times in the past, and we’re tied right now. I guess he wants a tie breaker match. But... I can’t fight him right now.”
“What do you mean you can’t fight?” Sheharazhad said, her voice raising slightly, “I thought you were the one who started this raid?!”
“I did! And the reason I brought so many reinforcements is because I can’t fight them myself! Please, Sheharazhad, for old time’s sake, just trust me. Go defeat this guy and we can move on. Don’t you trust me?”
“....
....
.... I trust you, Firestorm. Nothing can change that. But you owe me some answers when this is over.”
Faced with this predicament, Sheharazhad consented to fight Firestorm’s battle for him and began to descend the coliseum steps.
-
Nameless Author
- Member
- Posts: 57
- Joined: Wed Jun 20, 2007 4:55 pm
((Gone for good.))
Loric watched the monk run off and sighed. He knew perfectly well that from his spectacle with the flask he was seeking more alcohol. He sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose in distaste. Light forbid that someone try to stay sober during the dangerous trip. But, at least he was gone. "Alright, er, 'Bookie.' He left."
The book stirred and zipped into the air. "Well it's about time. It was fairly annoying having to pretend not being able to move just so that mage wouldn't try something with a little more substance. And there goes my hourly Deus Ex Machina spell."
Loric leaned against the wall, wincing at the pain of his broken bones. "Well it certainly affected me. Even without this spell, I won't be able to fly until I'm healed."
Bookie spun around and bobbed over to the Avian. "Yeah, yeah. Hint hint. Anyway, Edit: Character!"
The book opened up and ethereal ribbons shot out, wrapping around the form of Loric. Words could be seen in the ribbons, words of the Avian's very being. They altered themselves, fixing Loric's body. When finished, they retreated back into the book.
"So? How'd I do this time?"
Loric flexed a wing and performed a few sword manuevers. "Better than usual. One arm is still fractured and the left leg is still broken."
"Good enough to go on?"
Loric pushed off the wall and cast his illusion spell, hiding the wings. "Yeah. I can use Il'rel Sulor to walk."
"Good. That mage pulls another trick like that, I might have to step in personally. Perhaps a Pun-ishment spell. Or maybe Alliteration Agony. Or I’ve always been rather fond of Pen Is Mightier."
"Can I use your name now?"
"Sigh. No. But when I step out of the book, then you can."
"Very well. So, where to?"
Bookie would have grinned if able and said, "Good question. We go thataway!” He spun to face the blank wall.
"You make it sound easy."
"Because it is.” The wall warped and quickly developed a smooth tunnel leading to the other side. “You’re forgetting I can alter reality, to an extent anyway. Only on inanimate objects. When not in combat. And there can’t be any barrier spells in the way. And it has to be only be an area of up to ten feet. And it’s hourly.”
“So it’s useless.”
“Is not!” Bookie started to flap his covers, like a nervous person trying in vain to defend his weak argument. “It’s just…situational.”
“Right, whatever you say.”
Bookie flapped a lot more irritably. “Just go through the tunnel. And take out any baddies you find.”
Loric complied and walked into the new opening with Bookie hovering close behind. They emerged into a pure white room, with no visible exits or entrances. As they stepped from the tunnel exit, it too vanished. They were completely boxed in.
“Welcome.”
The owner of the voice took off a white cloak that had concealed him and threw it aside. Short blonde hair was spiked slightly upward. A lanky form with white t-shirt and shorts gave the illusion that the teenager’s head was hovering. But the most striking feature about this person were his bright silver eyes. No pupils. No whites. Just silver pools of unknown depths.
The boy bowed and smiled at Loric and Bookie, an evil smile that hinted at the cruelty of this one. “Welcome. I am Memory. Perhaps you remember me, Loric of the Black Heart?”
Loric’s blade was already slashing at the boy before he finished speaking. A flurry of clothes and Memory had parried the blazing longsword with a blade of his own, skidding to the side from the impact. “I see that you do. This will be fun.”
“Filth!” swore Loric, the air burning where Memory had been standing moments before. He chased after the acrobatic teen as he flipped backwards.
“My. You seem to remember me. But you forgot what I can do?” Loric lunged at the teen. “Pity.”
Memory deftly twisted his body to the side, allowing the flaming longsword to barely brush past him. He reversed his grip on his own sword and smashed the pommel into the Avian’s face, laughing maniacally. This was followed by a quick foot to Loric’s chest. He stumbled off-balance. Memory’s sword hissed across his chest and drew a line of blood. This was followed by an echoing bang. Loric pitched backwards as a hole appeared in his shoulder. Smoke drifted from the gun Memory had in hand, his sword curiously absent.
He cocked his head at the Avian, whose face was contorted with pain. “Surely you didn’t forget did you?” The gun transformed into a dagger, its wicked edge serrated to tear.
“Darkness take you,” said Loric through gritted teeth.
“Later,” said Memory. He lunged in towards the incapacitated Avian.
“Loric!”
The Avian poofed into a flurry of papers that shot back to their place in Bookie, a process watched closely by Memory. The teen smiled even wider. “Ah, so you’re here too? Mistress’s information was correct, then.”
Bookie flapped a bit. “Hannika sent you here? Oh no…”
“You sense her in this dimension don’t you? Hehehe.”
“Screw this, I can’t let her catch me. You win this time, Memory, but you know this is going to happen again sooner or later.”
Bookie glowed, and twisted himself out of this dimension, on the run once more.
Loric watched the monk run off and sighed. He knew perfectly well that from his spectacle with the flask he was seeking more alcohol. He sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose in distaste. Light forbid that someone try to stay sober during the dangerous trip. But, at least he was gone. "Alright, er, 'Bookie.' He left."
The book stirred and zipped into the air. "Well it's about time. It was fairly annoying having to pretend not being able to move just so that mage wouldn't try something with a little more substance. And there goes my hourly Deus Ex Machina spell."
Loric leaned against the wall, wincing at the pain of his broken bones. "Well it certainly affected me. Even without this spell, I won't be able to fly until I'm healed."
Bookie spun around and bobbed over to the Avian. "Yeah, yeah. Hint hint. Anyway, Edit: Character!"
The book opened up and ethereal ribbons shot out, wrapping around the form of Loric. Words could be seen in the ribbons, words of the Avian's very being. They altered themselves, fixing Loric's body. When finished, they retreated back into the book.
"So? How'd I do this time?"
Loric flexed a wing and performed a few sword manuevers. "Better than usual. One arm is still fractured and the left leg is still broken."
"Good enough to go on?"
Loric pushed off the wall and cast his illusion spell, hiding the wings. "Yeah. I can use Il'rel Sulor to walk."
"Good. That mage pulls another trick like that, I might have to step in personally. Perhaps a Pun-ishment spell. Or maybe Alliteration Agony. Or I’ve always been rather fond of Pen Is Mightier."
"Can I use your name now?"
"Sigh. No. But when I step out of the book, then you can."
"Very well. So, where to?"
Bookie would have grinned if able and said, "Good question. We go thataway!” He spun to face the blank wall.
"You make it sound easy."
"Because it is.” The wall warped and quickly developed a smooth tunnel leading to the other side. “You’re forgetting I can alter reality, to an extent anyway. Only on inanimate objects. When not in combat. And there can’t be any barrier spells in the way. And it has to be only be an area of up to ten feet. And it’s hourly.”
“So it’s useless.”
“Is not!” Bookie started to flap his covers, like a nervous person trying in vain to defend his weak argument. “It’s just…situational.”
“Right, whatever you say.”
Bookie flapped a lot more irritably. “Just go through the tunnel. And take out any baddies you find.”
Loric complied and walked into the new opening with Bookie hovering close behind. They emerged into a pure white room, with no visible exits or entrances. As they stepped from the tunnel exit, it too vanished. They were completely boxed in.
“Welcome.”
The owner of the voice took off a white cloak that had concealed him and threw it aside. Short blonde hair was spiked slightly upward. A lanky form with white t-shirt and shorts gave the illusion that the teenager’s head was hovering. But the most striking feature about this person were his bright silver eyes. No pupils. No whites. Just silver pools of unknown depths.
The boy bowed and smiled at Loric and Bookie, an evil smile that hinted at the cruelty of this one. “Welcome. I am Memory. Perhaps you remember me, Loric of the Black Heart?”
Loric’s blade was already slashing at the boy before he finished speaking. A flurry of clothes and Memory had parried the blazing longsword with a blade of his own, skidding to the side from the impact. “I see that you do. This will be fun.”
“Filth!” swore Loric, the air burning where Memory had been standing moments before. He chased after the acrobatic teen as he flipped backwards.
“My. You seem to remember me. But you forgot what I can do?” Loric lunged at the teen. “Pity.”
Memory deftly twisted his body to the side, allowing the flaming longsword to barely brush past him. He reversed his grip on his own sword and smashed the pommel into the Avian’s face, laughing maniacally. This was followed by a quick foot to Loric’s chest. He stumbled off-balance. Memory’s sword hissed across his chest and drew a line of blood. This was followed by an echoing bang. Loric pitched backwards as a hole appeared in his shoulder. Smoke drifted from the gun Memory had in hand, his sword curiously absent.
He cocked his head at the Avian, whose face was contorted with pain. “Surely you didn’t forget did you?” The gun transformed into a dagger, its wicked edge serrated to tear.
“Darkness take you,” said Loric through gritted teeth.
“Later,” said Memory. He lunged in towards the incapacitated Avian.
“Loric!”
The Avian poofed into a flurry of papers that shot back to their place in Bookie, a process watched closely by Memory. The teen smiled even wider. “Ah, so you’re here too? Mistress’s information was correct, then.”
Bookie flapped a bit. “Hannika sent you here? Oh no…”
“You sense her in this dimension don’t you? Hehehe.”
“Screw this, I can’t let her catch me. You win this time, Memory, but you know this is going to happen again sooner or later.”
Bookie glowed, and twisted himself out of this dimension, on the run once more.
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Wyborn
- Member
- Posts: 12269
- Joined: Fri Jun 16, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: All over the place
OoC: Dead? No - I don't think so. -OoC
There was a moment where one of Wyborn's thoughts hung in the air, a yawning vowel that seemed to go on forever - and then it was gone, lost in the thought equivalent of static.
"What did you just do?" said the cyborg, and the whirring behind his eyes was audible.
"I'm a psychic, you chrome-plated callous on the ass of creation. If I couldn't scramble the reading of my thoughts, I would be fairly bad at my job."
The click behind those red orbs said everything; the robot moved, as did the man, and all at once the stillness of the moment melted in a deluge of movement and death.
The robot was stronger, and faster. Hands that could grind stone into powder grabbed Wyborn's shoulders and the heaving of legs more powerful than hydraulic pistons of the same size sent the two flying through the air, a swing by the monstrous machine smashing Wyborn's back into the wall. One of his ribs broke, and he was lucky that it was not more - the flash of Light behind him showed how he had spread out the force of the impact, which resulted in the wall shuddering instead of getting a hole punched in it.
But the man was meaner, and knew more about fighting dirty; before his head had even struck the stone his right hand came up, fore and middle fingers jutting forward like claws. When he collided with the wall Light burst from the tips of his fingers and he shoved them through the metal of the robot's eyes.
Think of something cheesey to say, he thought.
"Lights out," he said.
He pulled his arm back, and with a flash of light he tore out the android's eyes, wires and shards of metal and glass trailing behind his glowing fingers. In the same movement he drove his knee into the machine's chest, hard enough to break its grip on his shoulders, and kicked hard enough to send it stumbling backwards.
It hands went up to the fizzling sockets where its optics had been and it let out a roar that betrayed its inhumanity, a grinding sound of screeching steel and shattering glass, long and warbling and ear-splitting.
Wyborn's fist collided with its throat and it was sent stumbling further back, but it lunged forward with a blind punch that came no less close to tearing his head from his shoulders. He literally fell to his back, reaching up with hi hand and grabbing the machine by the ankle as it passed. With one movement he rose and a terrible luminescence filled his limbs: he threw the mechanical beast with all the force in his body, and when it struck the wall of that dark place the stone shattered and shifted and fell around it and on top of it.
It rose up with another roar, clearly unhurt, and the flung stones fell around it like rain. It was blind, in spite of its ability to track him by sound - and then he knew what else had been left out of the machine, that real advantage that he had.
He held up his hand and lifted one of the boulders behind his copy into the air, so deftly and expertly that it made no sound, and the machine failed to respond to it, exactly as he knew it would. It lacked his ability to perceive the totality of the crude matter and energy around him, and that meant he could kill it.
The boulder came down on its back in a flash of movement; with a heaving of its limbs it shattered the projectile, and in that explosion of sound and force Wyborn launched himself, unheard, at his aggressor. His feet left the ground, and he sayed suspended in the air. The wind did not whistle around him.
Half of the distance covered, he clicked his teeth, and the cyborg heard it, and Wyborn knew from the firing he felt in its brain; the arm moved, and from that movement he could read waves of force and stress, where they met and resonated, where every motion was slowly creating weaknesses in armor that should have been impenetrable. The fist lashed out; Wyborn twisted in midair until he was parallel to the floor, facing the ceiling, and falling. His hand wrapped around the robot's wrist just as the punch reached the fullness of its extension; his hand, wreathed in flames, collided with its elbow at the moment when the force would resonate most. A tenth of a second passed, during which he sent pulse after pulse of ethereal force through that metallic limb, and then the whole thing snapped off like the arm of a cheap doll.
Wyborn landed on his back and rolled to his feet, and the two turned to face each other. Wyborn, through bloody teeth and with a broken rib, was smiling. The robot, one-armed and blind, was not.
"Do you know what this means, machine?"
The robot almost answered, but Wybrn hurled its arm with such force that it collided with its face and shattered in an eruption of fire and metal.
"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" It was the most gleeful declaration the psychic had made in ages. He lunged forward, hands curled into reaching claws, and he cackled laughter that would have stopped the heart of a god.
The two bodies collided, and there was no more fight to really be had. The robot fought back, to be sure, but its efforts were turned with giddy laughter and the sound of tearing metal.
Light from unknown sources threw wild, flickering images on the walls, silhouettes of the mot brutal murder that the psychic had ever committed; there was a rending of limbs, an arm shivered into splinters and legs torn off at the crotch. Hands plunged into the cavern of a torso that held far too much excess for the attacker, and he ripped and pulled and sent tubing and wires and glittering bits of metal flying in all directions, a rain of gore that would have been impossible to watch had his victim been of flesh. Weaknesses were exploited. The robot lost.
Wyborn wrapped his burning hand around its power core and heaved, tearing it out and suppressing any tendency it might have had to explode with his mind before shoving it into the pouch on his belt.
That will be useful for later.
Another grabbing and another wrenching and the thing's head was torn from its shoulders, the last sparks of energy still running through it. Maybe it still wanted to fight him. He did not care.
"You are not dead yet," he told it, pressing his forehead to the cool metal beneath the lie. "I can feel the last synapses firing in your brain; you hear me, are recording everything I say with the exactness of a machine. So know this: your brain is a book to me, information stored in a purely physical medium. You have failed to kill me, and you have failed to keep secrets from me: from your mind I will tear every shred of the plans for this palace, which I know you knew in case you had to chase me through it, and I will tear from you every bit about your master, which I know you knew in case you had to protect them from me."
His fingertips dug into the side of the whirring, clicking head, a gross approximation of his own, and his eyes were balls of fire.
"You have failed completely and utterly. With this information I will find the ones you separated me from, and we will kill the master of your master. Take that into whatever Hell you are bound for."
Perhaps if the robot could have screamed, it would have.
-------------------------------------------
Wyborn strode down the corridor, boots striking the floor and echoing off of the walls. He could feel the minds of some of the others - Sheharazhad and Firestorm and several more, minds he hd touched during his time on the battlefield. He knew where they were. Unless something else was there to try to stop him, he would get to them.
He would reach Firestorm first - he was the most important in all of this, would be the key in the inevitable finale. Wyborn's mouth twisted into a smile that was grim past words.
Behind him he left only a twisted heap of metal that no longer sparked.
-------------------------------------------
OoC: Okay then! Firestorm, I hope you don't mind me doing this, but if you do I know you can stop me through some means. Basically Wyborn's making a bee-line through the castle straight for Firestorm and Sheharazhad, using knowledge of the layout he ripped from Wyborg's mind.
Sorry for taking so long, buddy. -OoC
There was a moment where one of Wyborn's thoughts hung in the air, a yawning vowel that seemed to go on forever - and then it was gone, lost in the thought equivalent of static.
"What did you just do?" said the cyborg, and the whirring behind his eyes was audible.
"I'm a psychic, you chrome-plated callous on the ass of creation. If I couldn't scramble the reading of my thoughts, I would be fairly bad at my job."
The click behind those red orbs said everything; the robot moved, as did the man, and all at once the stillness of the moment melted in a deluge of movement and death.
The robot was stronger, and faster. Hands that could grind stone into powder grabbed Wyborn's shoulders and the heaving of legs more powerful than hydraulic pistons of the same size sent the two flying through the air, a swing by the monstrous machine smashing Wyborn's back into the wall. One of his ribs broke, and he was lucky that it was not more - the flash of Light behind him showed how he had spread out the force of the impact, which resulted in the wall shuddering instead of getting a hole punched in it.
But the man was meaner, and knew more about fighting dirty; before his head had even struck the stone his right hand came up, fore and middle fingers jutting forward like claws. When he collided with the wall Light burst from the tips of his fingers and he shoved them through the metal of the robot's eyes.
Think of something cheesey to say, he thought.
"Lights out," he said.
He pulled his arm back, and with a flash of light he tore out the android's eyes, wires and shards of metal and glass trailing behind his glowing fingers. In the same movement he drove his knee into the machine's chest, hard enough to break its grip on his shoulders, and kicked hard enough to send it stumbling backwards.
It hands went up to the fizzling sockets where its optics had been and it let out a roar that betrayed its inhumanity, a grinding sound of screeching steel and shattering glass, long and warbling and ear-splitting.
Wyborn's fist collided with its throat and it was sent stumbling further back, but it lunged forward with a blind punch that came no less close to tearing his head from his shoulders. He literally fell to his back, reaching up with hi hand and grabbing the machine by the ankle as it passed. With one movement he rose and a terrible luminescence filled his limbs: he threw the mechanical beast with all the force in his body, and when it struck the wall of that dark place the stone shattered and shifted and fell around it and on top of it.
It rose up with another roar, clearly unhurt, and the flung stones fell around it like rain. It was blind, in spite of its ability to track him by sound - and then he knew what else had been left out of the machine, that real advantage that he had.
He held up his hand and lifted one of the boulders behind his copy into the air, so deftly and expertly that it made no sound, and the machine failed to respond to it, exactly as he knew it would. It lacked his ability to perceive the totality of the crude matter and energy around him, and that meant he could kill it.
The boulder came down on its back in a flash of movement; with a heaving of its limbs it shattered the projectile, and in that explosion of sound and force Wyborn launched himself, unheard, at his aggressor. His feet left the ground, and he sayed suspended in the air. The wind did not whistle around him.
Half of the distance covered, he clicked his teeth, and the cyborg heard it, and Wyborn knew from the firing he felt in its brain; the arm moved, and from that movement he could read waves of force and stress, where they met and resonated, where every motion was slowly creating weaknesses in armor that should have been impenetrable. The fist lashed out; Wyborn twisted in midair until he was parallel to the floor, facing the ceiling, and falling. His hand wrapped around the robot's wrist just as the punch reached the fullness of its extension; his hand, wreathed in flames, collided with its elbow at the moment when the force would resonate most. A tenth of a second passed, during which he sent pulse after pulse of ethereal force through that metallic limb, and then the whole thing snapped off like the arm of a cheap doll.
Wyborn landed on his back and rolled to his feet, and the two turned to face each other. Wyborn, through bloody teeth and with a broken rib, was smiling. The robot, one-armed and blind, was not.
"Do you know what this means, machine?"
The robot almost answered, but Wybrn hurled its arm with such force that it collided with its face and shattered in an eruption of fire and metal.
"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" It was the most gleeful declaration the psychic had made in ages. He lunged forward, hands curled into reaching claws, and he cackled laughter that would have stopped the heart of a god.
The two bodies collided, and there was no more fight to really be had. The robot fought back, to be sure, but its efforts were turned with giddy laughter and the sound of tearing metal.
Light from unknown sources threw wild, flickering images on the walls, silhouettes of the mot brutal murder that the psychic had ever committed; there was a rending of limbs, an arm shivered into splinters and legs torn off at the crotch. Hands plunged into the cavern of a torso that held far too much excess for the attacker, and he ripped and pulled and sent tubing and wires and glittering bits of metal flying in all directions, a rain of gore that would have been impossible to watch had his victim been of flesh. Weaknesses were exploited. The robot lost.
Wyborn wrapped his burning hand around its power core and heaved, tearing it out and suppressing any tendency it might have had to explode with his mind before shoving it into the pouch on his belt.
That will be useful for later.
Another grabbing and another wrenching and the thing's head was torn from its shoulders, the last sparks of energy still running through it. Maybe it still wanted to fight him. He did not care.
"You are not dead yet," he told it, pressing his forehead to the cool metal beneath the lie. "I can feel the last synapses firing in your brain; you hear me, are recording everything I say with the exactness of a machine. So know this: your brain is a book to me, information stored in a purely physical medium. You have failed to kill me, and you have failed to keep secrets from me: from your mind I will tear every shred of the plans for this palace, which I know you knew in case you had to chase me through it, and I will tear from you every bit about your master, which I know you knew in case you had to protect them from me."
His fingertips dug into the side of the whirring, clicking head, a gross approximation of his own, and his eyes were balls of fire.
"You have failed completely and utterly. With this information I will find the ones you separated me from, and we will kill the master of your master. Take that into whatever Hell you are bound for."
Perhaps if the robot could have screamed, it would have.
-------------------------------------------
Wyborn strode down the corridor, boots striking the floor and echoing off of the walls. He could feel the minds of some of the others - Sheharazhad and Firestorm and several more, minds he hd touched during his time on the battlefield. He knew where they were. Unless something else was there to try to stop him, he would get to them.
He would reach Firestorm first - he was the most important in all of this, would be the key in the inevitable finale. Wyborn's mouth twisted into a smile that was grim past words.
Behind him he left only a twisted heap of metal that no longer sparked.
-------------------------------------------
OoC: Okay then! Firestorm, I hope you don't mind me doing this, but if you do I know you can stop me through some means. Basically Wyborn's making a bee-line through the castle straight for Firestorm and Sheharazhad, using knowledge of the layout he ripped from Wyborg's mind.
Sorry for taking so long, buddy. -OoC
Help me out with the best fanfiction ever, Ganondorf Beats Up EVERYONE! You decide who gets beaten!
For the battle-minded and mathematically inclined, there's the Hyrulian War, a revived time-honored tradition!
For the battle-minded and mathematically inclined, there's the Hyrulian War, a revived time-honored tradition!
-
The Willful Wanderer
- Member
- Posts: 2221
- Joined: Fri Mar 05, 2004 2:00 am
- Location: Aisle 12, between the kumquats and the radicchio.
(A)greed.
((Can't believe I forgot about this. Well, I'll just start things off in the order that makes sense here....))
Reiko gave the bear-woman a very, VERY bland look, the crimson of her irises hardening a bit. The way the corners of her mouth curled, she had the clear expression of someone who has just been told a bad joke, and doesn't feel like being polite to the teller. Interestingly, she made no move to retrieve her weapon from where it was slung across her back yet, as she looked a bit upwards at the much furrier woman.
"You know, I would hope someone with an unusual appearance would come up with an unusual introduction line. I suppose that you plan to comment on how tasty we're gonna be while you brawl with us?"
As she spoke, Reiko slowly raised her right- just her right- eyebrow, folding her arms across the front of her white-leather breastplate. The spikes on either bracelet wound up tucked between arm and leather, and her thick, spiked tail shifted a couple of times.
"Something like that." The ursine woman growled, slowing to a brief shuffle forwards. Something wasn't quite right here.
Shurianno, too, began watching Reiko warily. He kept most of his attention on the bear-woman, though, only getting an odd sense of foreboding from his erstwhile ally. Is she up to something?
"Not interested in our names?" Reiko asked, maintaining her clearly-not-combat-ready stance."
"Never get acquainted with your food." The growling reply came.
The half-dragon sighed, dropping her arms and shaking her head left to right. The quills in her scalp rattled softly against one another, creating a soft sussuration. "Well, then. It's been nice not knowing you."
Krylicanna shrugged slightly, her eyes narrowing. What was it that was wrong here?
"You seem interesting. I hate to kill you." She lied.
"You seem boring. I hate to die." Came the much more honest reply. Then Reiko shifted-
-And Krylicanna felt something snap as someone hit her with a mountain.
******
Crouching, Karna shifted her grip on her naginata and snorted. "Silhouette? Really? Wow. An' here I thought cheese was for eatin'."
Susan, for her part, frowned. Was this little strange-haired runt actually not going to take her seriously? Such a bad joke, it was like she didn't think this was really worth any effort, counter to the abrupt tensing of her hands and- whoops.
The self-styled Silhouette popped out from behind another rock as the stone wall behind where she'd been instants earlier was reduced to a rough gravel by a swirling set of polearm stabs. "That was rude."
"**** off. I don't have time for this." Came the reply.
The diminutive woman shifted into a comically low stance, her feet braced nearly twice her own shoulder-width apart, left far behind her with the leg straight and the right foot forwards, knee bent at a ninety degree angle. The haft and blade of her weapon now described a near-line angled to meet her back foot at the ankle, the blade resting its back and tip along her extended right arm. Hazel eyes narrowed as she settled into the stance for a moment.
Her dagger-wielding adversary, however, was completely out of reach. "What are you going to do, throw your spear at me?"
"Works for me."
thunk
Silhouette blinked, just her eyes turning to the left to spot the blade of the weapon, its tip sunk into the stone behind her and the cool metal caressing her cheek where it had just shaved off a tiny bit of skin. A small notch in her ear began to bead up with blood as she froze, then returned her attention to Karna.
The crabby little pilipina hadn't budged at all. But her weapon was gone. Something was very wrong here.
On an instinct, Silhouette dropped through the shadows without warning. Luck was on her side, it seemed, as the white-cloaked girl seemed to simply appear where the brunette had been a moment ago. Her palm met the wall of the tunnel with a light slap as the wakizashi stabbed out from behind her, set to part her cervical vertebrae-
-but she was already gone, running up the wall and across the ceiling. Silhouette whirled to watch, which was her first mistake.
When the bits of stony shrapnel from the wall exploding in a crackling spray of rocks dug into her back, she stumbled and winced. Mistake number two.
Abruptly, Karna kicked off from the ceiling, flying towards the taller woman headfirst. Instinctively, Susan lashed out with the point of her short blade.
Mistake number three.
******
Gray eyes blinked slowly at the large man's words. "Impress you?" Uldi intoned, softly. "Very well, if you wish."
The gargoyle-demon came straight for her, likely a factor of her having stepped forwards and presented herself as a target. Her arms, she spread slightly to the sides, and then waited, eyes lightly closed.
With a screeching sound, the little red-eyed stone imp launched itself at the waiting giantess, all fangs and claws and bad attitude. Lynn winced and closed her eyes, ducking behind Jago as she prepared herself for the sound of things breaking.
No such sound came. After a few minutes and only the occasional scrape of stone on metal, she dared remove her face from her hands and peer around her friend.
Jago blinked, slightly befuddled by what was going on. Considering it for a bit, he accepted that this was, in its own way, impressive.
The rocky imp was going absolutely bat****. It clawed at the blue norsewoman, gnawed on her elbows, scratched at her face. It chewed her hair, jammed its fingers into the corners of her mouth, scraped the razor-edges of its spinal ridges along her throat. Dropping to the ground, the thing screeched and tackled Uldi's left leg at the knee, clawing and biting and scraping at her limb with the sort of fervor reserved for frustrated chimpanzees and religious zealots.
Uldi, for her part, looked positively bored. Clearly, for all she cared, the immensely nasty and horribly strong little thing might as well have been a slightly muggy summer breeze.
Wide-eyed, Lynn couldn't help but ask.
"...doesn't that hurt?"
"Yes." Uldi replied unexpectedly. "It feels very painful. But it is not harmful- to me."
A few more minutes passed as the thing became briefly obsessed with chewing the fingers of her left hand off. Demonic slobber ran down the frost giantess' fingers, dripping onto the stone and hissing acidically, slightly pitting the surface.
"Is this impressive enough?" She asked Jago, not bothering to turn and look.
The large man shrugged. "It will do."
Uldi nodded slightly, then her brow knotted- and there was a brief flash, dazzling the woman hiding behind Jago briefly. Then a slow scrape, followed by a shattering sound.
"...let us continue on." The huge blonde directed, gesturing with her now demon-free hand for Jago to lead the way. Several slowly melting chunks of ice by her left foot held pieces and cross-sections of demonic flesh, and it was to these she nodded. "Before this begins to foul the air."
******
Tucking the wakizashi into her cloak, where it disappeared, Karna flicked her left arm into a swift backfist. Her eyes widened as, instead of the satisfying crunch of bone being crushed, there was a quiet whiff of air.
Even as she rolled out of her previous location, a tanto blade swiped through where her Achilles' tendons had been just an instant past. It seemed that Susan was done making mistakes.
Well, so was she.
"**** off." She stated, and then simply erupted with white light. All shadows of any real size were abruptly banished as an eight-foot-radius area around the woman became filled with a misty glowing nothing at all, in a pale electric-blue color.
The suddenly increased brightness got a wince out of Silhouette, who was forced to stagger back to try and hide as she got her eyes to adjust.
"Don't make me kill you." Karna stated, and then turned, reaching out and ripping her own weapon free of the tunnel wall.
And then she was gone, her passage kicking up a strong wind and her feet a stacatto drumroll on the stone floor as she charged down the subterranean passage.
As it went dark and Susan was forced to once more get her eyes to adjust, only one thought came.
How can she move her legs that fast?
******
Shurianno winced, clinging to the upper wall of the tunnel, his left arm drawn back with a fistful of shuriken. He still hadn't gotten to make a move. Oh, he fully intended to launch the tiny silvery blades at Reiko's opponent the moment he had a clear shot. Which, naturally, was the problem.
For all her skill with her chosen weapons, Reiko barehanded was a brawler, plain and simple. And despite her mass, she was pretty damn quick. Oh, she was no Chun Li, no Kuradoberri Jam, no Ibuki. But she was swift enough.
The bear-woman reeled as a spiked bracelet slammed into the side of her head again, gouging her scalp and sending her off-balance. Her returning paw-swipe landed just as firmly on Reiko's ear- but to much less effect. It was rather like fighting someone made out of granite wrapped in cellophane. The half-dragon's flesh had some give, of course, but her sheer density made it both borderline impossible for a mere eight-hundred-pound ursine to upset her- A mass difference of nearly four times utterly destroyed Kryilicana's leverage, despite her modest height advantage.
A boot dropped into the middle of her ribcage again, cracking several of the curved bones, and the furry woman half-grumphed, half-roared in desperation, stabbing out with both paws. Her opponent's other arm slapped out, taking a few small cuts in exchange for knocking the limbs completely away, bruising to the bone once more. Sore all over, Krylicana stumbled, half-spinning. The two had been going at it for nearly two full minutes.
Two minutes does not sound like much, but for a fight, especially for a stumbling, rolling brawl, that can be an eternity.
Hopping forwards, Reiko slammed her forehead into her antagonist's back, her small black horns adding a pair of gouges to the large bruise she was piling atop several others, and then she swung a right hook, shattering previously-cracked ribs. A knee slammed up, bruising a the ursine woman's tailbone, and then the foot slammed down with Reiko's full weight behind it- and Krylicana howled pain into the darkness as half of one footpaw was crushed by a multi-ton stomp.
Desperately, she staggered forwards and turned- only to catch a dozen tiny slivers of sharpness in her midsection, burrowing through her fur and into the outer layers of muscle.
Stunned, she pawed at her front for a moment before things got.... a bit toastier than she would have liked.
Shurianno stared. The quill-haired woman was bent over forwards, her mouth open, performing a basic fire jutsu. Only... without any ninja training, and much more strongly than he could account for. The cone of flame held for four... five... six... seven... He could hear the breath weapon's victim stumbling about in the midst of the fire, blinded and unable to verbalise, her breath stolen by steel and oppressive, scorching air.
...ten... eleven.... How was this 'Reiko' doing this? It wasn't with her chi, she wasn't manipulating any energy at all that he could see. Her fists were clenched and slightly out to the sides for balance, and she was leant forwards- possibly for better aim- but that was it.
...eighteen... nineteen... twenty. Snapping her mouth closed, Reiko straightened up as the billowing flame cut off just so abruptly. In its wake, a length of the tunnel was charred, nearly thirty feet covered in a thin layer of ash. The clear origin for this was the blackened bear-lady slumped against one wall of the tunnel. The smell of burnt fur was oppressive, and it was a clear mercy that Krylicana was unconscious from asphyxiation- she was a mass of melted and blackened skin, her eyes swollen shut.
Crimson eyes examined the fallen woman for a few moments before turning up to Shurianno and softening from that rich crimson to a lighter tone. "I think we're done here." Reiko commented, matter-of-factly. "Shall we keep on?"
((Can't believe I forgot about this. Well, I'll just start things off in the order that makes sense here....))
Reiko gave the bear-woman a very, VERY bland look, the crimson of her irises hardening a bit. The way the corners of her mouth curled, she had the clear expression of someone who has just been told a bad joke, and doesn't feel like being polite to the teller. Interestingly, she made no move to retrieve her weapon from where it was slung across her back yet, as she looked a bit upwards at the much furrier woman.
"You know, I would hope someone with an unusual appearance would come up with an unusual introduction line. I suppose that you plan to comment on how tasty we're gonna be while you brawl with us?"
As she spoke, Reiko slowly raised her right- just her right- eyebrow, folding her arms across the front of her white-leather breastplate. The spikes on either bracelet wound up tucked between arm and leather, and her thick, spiked tail shifted a couple of times.
"Something like that." The ursine woman growled, slowing to a brief shuffle forwards. Something wasn't quite right here.
Shurianno, too, began watching Reiko warily. He kept most of his attention on the bear-woman, though, only getting an odd sense of foreboding from his erstwhile ally. Is she up to something?
"Not interested in our names?" Reiko asked, maintaining her clearly-not-combat-ready stance."
"Never get acquainted with your food." The growling reply came.
The half-dragon sighed, dropping her arms and shaking her head left to right. The quills in her scalp rattled softly against one another, creating a soft sussuration. "Well, then. It's been nice not knowing you."
Krylicanna shrugged slightly, her eyes narrowing. What was it that was wrong here?
"You seem interesting. I hate to kill you." She lied.
"You seem boring. I hate to die." Came the much more honest reply. Then Reiko shifted-
-And Krylicanna felt something snap as someone hit her with a mountain.
******
Crouching, Karna shifted her grip on her naginata and snorted. "Silhouette? Really? Wow. An' here I thought cheese was for eatin'."
Susan, for her part, frowned. Was this little strange-haired runt actually not going to take her seriously? Such a bad joke, it was like she didn't think this was really worth any effort, counter to the abrupt tensing of her hands and- whoops.
The self-styled Silhouette popped out from behind another rock as the stone wall behind where she'd been instants earlier was reduced to a rough gravel by a swirling set of polearm stabs. "That was rude."
"**** off. I don't have time for this." Came the reply.
The diminutive woman shifted into a comically low stance, her feet braced nearly twice her own shoulder-width apart, left far behind her with the leg straight and the right foot forwards, knee bent at a ninety degree angle. The haft and blade of her weapon now described a near-line angled to meet her back foot at the ankle, the blade resting its back and tip along her extended right arm. Hazel eyes narrowed as she settled into the stance for a moment.
Her dagger-wielding adversary, however, was completely out of reach. "What are you going to do, throw your spear at me?"
"Works for me."
thunk
Silhouette blinked, just her eyes turning to the left to spot the blade of the weapon, its tip sunk into the stone behind her and the cool metal caressing her cheek where it had just shaved off a tiny bit of skin. A small notch in her ear began to bead up with blood as she froze, then returned her attention to Karna.
The crabby little pilipina hadn't budged at all. But her weapon was gone. Something was very wrong here.
On an instinct, Silhouette dropped through the shadows without warning. Luck was on her side, it seemed, as the white-cloaked girl seemed to simply appear where the brunette had been a moment ago. Her palm met the wall of the tunnel with a light slap as the wakizashi stabbed out from behind her, set to part her cervical vertebrae-
-but she was already gone, running up the wall and across the ceiling. Silhouette whirled to watch, which was her first mistake.
When the bits of stony shrapnel from the wall exploding in a crackling spray of rocks dug into her back, she stumbled and winced. Mistake number two.
Abruptly, Karna kicked off from the ceiling, flying towards the taller woman headfirst. Instinctively, Susan lashed out with the point of her short blade.
Mistake number three.
******
Gray eyes blinked slowly at the large man's words. "Impress you?" Uldi intoned, softly. "Very well, if you wish."
The gargoyle-demon came straight for her, likely a factor of her having stepped forwards and presented herself as a target. Her arms, she spread slightly to the sides, and then waited, eyes lightly closed.
With a screeching sound, the little red-eyed stone imp launched itself at the waiting giantess, all fangs and claws and bad attitude. Lynn winced and closed her eyes, ducking behind Jago as she prepared herself for the sound of things breaking.
No such sound came. After a few minutes and only the occasional scrape of stone on metal, she dared remove her face from her hands and peer around her friend.
Jago blinked, slightly befuddled by what was going on. Considering it for a bit, he accepted that this was, in its own way, impressive.
The rocky imp was going absolutely bat****. It clawed at the blue norsewoman, gnawed on her elbows, scratched at her face. It chewed her hair, jammed its fingers into the corners of her mouth, scraped the razor-edges of its spinal ridges along her throat. Dropping to the ground, the thing screeched and tackled Uldi's left leg at the knee, clawing and biting and scraping at her limb with the sort of fervor reserved for frustrated chimpanzees and religious zealots.
Uldi, for her part, looked positively bored. Clearly, for all she cared, the immensely nasty and horribly strong little thing might as well have been a slightly muggy summer breeze.
Wide-eyed, Lynn couldn't help but ask.
"...doesn't that hurt?"
"Yes." Uldi replied unexpectedly. "It feels very painful. But it is not harmful- to me."
A few more minutes passed as the thing became briefly obsessed with chewing the fingers of her left hand off. Demonic slobber ran down the frost giantess' fingers, dripping onto the stone and hissing acidically, slightly pitting the surface.
"Is this impressive enough?" She asked Jago, not bothering to turn and look.
The large man shrugged. "It will do."
Uldi nodded slightly, then her brow knotted- and there was a brief flash, dazzling the woman hiding behind Jago briefly. Then a slow scrape, followed by a shattering sound.
"...let us continue on." The huge blonde directed, gesturing with her now demon-free hand for Jago to lead the way. Several slowly melting chunks of ice by her left foot held pieces and cross-sections of demonic flesh, and it was to these she nodded. "Before this begins to foul the air."
******
Tucking the wakizashi into her cloak, where it disappeared, Karna flicked her left arm into a swift backfist. Her eyes widened as, instead of the satisfying crunch of bone being crushed, there was a quiet whiff of air.
Even as she rolled out of her previous location, a tanto blade swiped through where her Achilles' tendons had been just an instant past. It seemed that Susan was done making mistakes.
Well, so was she.
"**** off." She stated, and then simply erupted with white light. All shadows of any real size were abruptly banished as an eight-foot-radius area around the woman became filled with a misty glowing nothing at all, in a pale electric-blue color.
The suddenly increased brightness got a wince out of Silhouette, who was forced to stagger back to try and hide as she got her eyes to adjust.
"Don't make me kill you." Karna stated, and then turned, reaching out and ripping her own weapon free of the tunnel wall.
And then she was gone, her passage kicking up a strong wind and her feet a stacatto drumroll on the stone floor as she charged down the subterranean passage.
As it went dark and Susan was forced to once more get her eyes to adjust, only one thought came.
How can she move her legs that fast?
******
Shurianno winced, clinging to the upper wall of the tunnel, his left arm drawn back with a fistful of shuriken. He still hadn't gotten to make a move. Oh, he fully intended to launch the tiny silvery blades at Reiko's opponent the moment he had a clear shot. Which, naturally, was the problem.
For all her skill with her chosen weapons, Reiko barehanded was a brawler, plain and simple. And despite her mass, she was pretty damn quick. Oh, she was no Chun Li, no Kuradoberri Jam, no Ibuki. But she was swift enough.
The bear-woman reeled as a spiked bracelet slammed into the side of her head again, gouging her scalp and sending her off-balance. Her returning paw-swipe landed just as firmly on Reiko's ear- but to much less effect. It was rather like fighting someone made out of granite wrapped in cellophane. The half-dragon's flesh had some give, of course, but her sheer density made it both borderline impossible for a mere eight-hundred-pound ursine to upset her- A mass difference of nearly four times utterly destroyed Kryilicana's leverage, despite her modest height advantage.
A boot dropped into the middle of her ribcage again, cracking several of the curved bones, and the furry woman half-grumphed, half-roared in desperation, stabbing out with both paws. Her opponent's other arm slapped out, taking a few small cuts in exchange for knocking the limbs completely away, bruising to the bone once more. Sore all over, Krylicana stumbled, half-spinning. The two had been going at it for nearly two full minutes.
Two minutes does not sound like much, but for a fight, especially for a stumbling, rolling brawl, that can be an eternity.
Hopping forwards, Reiko slammed her forehead into her antagonist's back, her small black horns adding a pair of gouges to the large bruise she was piling atop several others, and then she swung a right hook, shattering previously-cracked ribs. A knee slammed up, bruising a the ursine woman's tailbone, and then the foot slammed down with Reiko's full weight behind it- and Krylicana howled pain into the darkness as half of one footpaw was crushed by a multi-ton stomp.
Desperately, she staggered forwards and turned- only to catch a dozen tiny slivers of sharpness in her midsection, burrowing through her fur and into the outer layers of muscle.
Stunned, she pawed at her front for a moment before things got.... a bit toastier than she would have liked.
Shurianno stared. The quill-haired woman was bent over forwards, her mouth open, performing a basic fire jutsu. Only... without any ninja training, and much more strongly than he could account for. The cone of flame held for four... five... six... seven... He could hear the breath weapon's victim stumbling about in the midst of the fire, blinded and unable to verbalise, her breath stolen by steel and oppressive, scorching air.
...ten... eleven.... How was this 'Reiko' doing this? It wasn't with her chi, she wasn't manipulating any energy at all that he could see. Her fists were clenched and slightly out to the sides for balance, and she was leant forwards- possibly for better aim- but that was it.
...eighteen... nineteen... twenty. Snapping her mouth closed, Reiko straightened up as the billowing flame cut off just so abruptly. In its wake, a length of the tunnel was charred, nearly thirty feet covered in a thin layer of ash. The clear origin for this was the blackened bear-lady slumped against one wall of the tunnel. The smell of burnt fur was oppressive, and it was a clear mercy that Krylicana was unconscious from asphyxiation- she was a mass of melted and blackened skin, her eyes swollen shut.
Crimson eyes examined the fallen woman for a few moments before turning up to Shurianno and softening from that rich crimson to a lighter tone. "I think we're done here." Reiko commented, matter-of-factly. "Shall we keep on?"
\"What if nothing means anything? What if nothing really matters?.....
...Or suppose <b><i>EVERYTHING</b></i> matters. Which would be worse?\"
-Calvin
\"Joke \'em if they can\'t take a f$%k.\"
...Or suppose <b><i>EVERYTHING</b></i> matters. Which would be worse?\"
-Calvin
\"Joke \'em if they can\'t take a f$%k.\"