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[RP] Into The Fire

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Inferi

Inferi

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Had she not abandoned the vessel before the Pelagic II she would have died along with it rather than being the sole survivor that had continued to live her life up until this point.

Speaking of that time, it appeared that the young woman that had been so fervent in her desire to join the cause of the Tyrranian Empire was indeed one of those that had been on the Pelagic II with her. Out of everyone that had been on that voyage, at least from those she had gotten to know - which wasn’t all that many - this young woman was probably one of the better ones to have turned up in this situation. Everyone else might be a bit skeptical and decline to offer assistance, like most of the others here already had, but the zealous nature of this young woman, the immense desire to do heroic deeds that had been shown already, was a positive boon right now.

*
Yes, I was. Good to see someone from that gods-forsaken voyage still alive.
” she replied, grasping the offered hand in a firm shake. “
I don’t know if we ever actually got introduced, but the name’s Kat.
”

It was strange, really. She was actually pretty sure that she had barely even met this young woman, even though they had been on the same ship together for a while. Most of the crew on the Pelagic II had been unknown to her, her short time there allowing her to only become somewhat familiar with the officers. It was hard to even say if she could trust this young woman, although something told her that, even though they hadn’t been acquainted much, she could.

Hopefully that trust would be enough to count on her help in slaying the demon.

“
Is that all ma’am?
” she asked the Decan, straightening into a more “at attention” stance for the moment she asked. The sudden recognition and the fact that she was no longer giving a report had made her momentarily forget that she had not officially finished the conversation. Done in by the dubious doings of destiny.

11-Feb-2016 02:11:30 - Last edited on 11-Feb-2016 02:11:51 by Inferi

Quick5ilvr

Quick5ilvr

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The Hive

The sword dropped to the ground.

The insects continued their hymn, the incessant hum that would likely never rest until the Hive found its vengeance. The magic slithered closer, and then a new sensation fell over the creature. It was entirely unexpected, a feeling of helplessness.

A feeling others might call "panic."

It spun sloppily on its heels, bolting in a new direction. Away from the magic, away from the creature. This being may have held answers, but something was not right.

It...it meant to kill me. It was going to kill me and I was not going to be able to do anything about it.

Well, it was actually doing something about it now. It was running, but where it knew not. The air reeked of death and destruction, and it smelled...

Delicious.

Feet pounding against the earth, the creature spared some of its swarm to monitor the threat it attempted to leave behind. Perhaps it would give chase. Hopefully it would not. Afterall, the swarm had something to do.

The bloodlust began to rise as the destruction grew closer.

Kill. I am going to kill some killers.

Oh good, I was wondering when you'd be back. Cower, worship, or beg. All are valid choices.

11-Feb-2016 04:53:48

Loaned Shark

Loaned Shark

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Attempted Espionage

A ship had fallen out of the sky, and while everyone turned to gawp a lone figure had toppled from the town’s walls, hoping to go unnoticed in the cacophony.

So far, this seemed to be the only part of the plan that was going well. The moment he had scuttled into the tower, distracted by the arcane surges which told him someone had been discovered, a knife had caught him square in the face. His mask had shattered along the fault lines, and playing dead had seemed the most prudent course; emboldened by success, the mortals had clustered about to investigate their kill before calling for help. It was only when they rolled him back over, to find half a blank white mask and half formless, frozen void staring back at them, that they realised their mistake.

Still clutching the broken half, Ubaid beheld the bright, arterial blood dripping from the jagged edges of his ancient face. The sight disgusted him more than his own pathetic slaves; at least those wretches served a purpose, no matter how squandered they were. These squalling, squealing mortals would merely die, and that would be the end of them, when with a little more time (and no demi-deific interference) he could have made so much more of them.

Slowly, deliberately, his fist closed about the porcelain, cracking and crumbling the shards to dust before he cast what was left aside. If this senseless waste was the price of serving the Deceiver, then so be it, and he hoped that the others would derive some satisfaction from the slaughter they had engendered. Enough, at least, not to lose interest in the endeavour, for he could not afford to prepare for a duel with the magi patrolling these streets and remain concealed. As long as they were all too busy trying to contain the flames he could see lighting up the night sky, he hoped to simply be passed over as an irrelevant sellsword in the face of greater threats. All seeing. All knowing. All scumbag.

16-Feb-2016 22:21:24

Loaned Shark

Loaned Shark

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He remembered where the object of Soahc’s desire must surely lie, radiating such terrific and alien power from the centre of the town. This entire scenario went against his better judgement, but if the Deceiver were to gain a new tool then Ubaid the Undying wished to see it at the first, before it learned to dissemble like the rest of them. He grew tired of surprises.

Pulling the hood of his cloak up, the better to obscure his ruined mask and maybe buy an extra second to flee, the ghost stayed close to the walls and houses and began to hurry through the town. He had a ship’s wake to cross, and a fight to avoid.



Imperial Camp

Charles had more problems than he could damn well count right now, but worst of all was the buzzard on that soldier’s shoulder. A buzzard . Too many memories came rushing back at the sight of one of those blasted birds, but he still managed a smile and desultory wave before he turned away, piped down, and let the others fight it out. His course was clear to him, his head was pounding and his chest ached, and he could not be bothered with explaining ‘Demon bad, killing demon good’ to these people.

He wasn’t about to admit that it wasn’t that simple; a bird could just be a bird, but he wasn’t about to see this as anything less than a bad omen. The last time he had seen one of those things, it had whispered sweet lies in Karstone’s ear, and led them all to try and murder one another. No normal bird, but when you wake up to find the camp on fire and your friends trying to kill you, it leaves a mark, however irrational.

Sticking around was the best choice, if only because he could use these people. The space between his shoulderblades, however, itched as he remembered how well those alliances always seemed to end. He did hope he wasn’t about to sign on for another cause he would end up betraying, or would betray him, but you could only work with what you had. He needed help, and the only help he had wanted to talk to the thing. All seeing. All knowing. All scumbag.

16-Feb-2016 22:21:56

Loaned Shark

Loaned Shark

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He was Sir Charles of Richton, and he would fight God’s enemies and do His will, no matter the cost. His family was gone, his honour was lost, but the Decan had the right of it; he still had his life to give. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that, of course; he was dying as it was, and he’d like to have long enough left to get the hell away from here when all was said and done.

Taking a seat on a tree stump while he waited for them all to come to their conclusions, the knight errant sighed and rested his head in his right hand. One minute he was chanting Deus Vult alongside the rest of them, the next he was trying to figure out who was going to try and kill him in his sleep; whatever happened to the good old days, when Right was Right and Wrong was Target Practice and everyone knew their place in the world?

It changed, he told himself, that*s what happened. And it hadn’t stopped changing long enough for him to figure it out again, and he probably never would. On cue, the pain in his chest redoubled, and he gritted his teeth. His eyes closed for a second-

And he woke up in hell.

This wasn’t the afterlife he had been taught to fear, but it wasn’t far off. The wailing crowds buffeted him, their cries echoing tenfold in his skull; a fire burned in his lungs with every breath, and the knight spluttered and hacked just as he did in life, red phlegm spattering onto-

Down past the bars, and Into the lake below. The sewers of Capital City flashed before his eyes, sweat beaded on his suddenly pale skin. *Not again,” he whispered, fighting to keep his footing; and, seeing now what befell the apparitions below him, what the demon would so love to do to His whole world, Charles’ face contorted, his teeth bared in a snarl. “Not ever.” All seeing. All knowing. All scumbag.

16-Feb-2016 22:22:18

Loaned Shark

Loaned Shark

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This was not real – could not be real. He’d just closed his eyes for a moment, damn it! But as he turned to catch sight of the demon he now hunted, bile rising in his throat, he had to wonder whether that mattered. His hand itched for the pommel of his sword, to hack it in half and keep hacking until it couldn’t put itself back together, but no matter how hard he fought he couldn’t quite reach the f****** thing.

The crowd eased as they fell and the vision continued unchecked, twisting into the fever-dreams of a rabid engineer. Such contraptions Charles had never seen before in his life, and seeing how they were used he hoped he never would again. He watched, helpless, as the **** of bloodletting played out below him. The demon’s blasphemies almost went unnoticed, in the face of what it sought to do; Charles' wiry frame shook with every horror, until all was still.

And then, from the blackness, he saw them come. Dream it must be, but dreams could still hurt, and if he would not wake in time he steeled himself to fight until they took hi- Wait.

“Selene?” He asked, what little colour was left draining from him like water wrung from a towel. Dumbfounded, the knight stared up at the visage on the end of the machine, his jaw dropping as he turned, around and around, counting all the faces he had thought gone forever from this world. Distantly, behind the churning and the dying screams and the pounding of machinery, he could hear a ringing, a white-hot noise at the edge of his mind. And then, the mechanical hands and the whirring bits arcing above, the spell was broken. “How dare you? How dare you, you hellspawned b******?”

At last free, the last man standing, the knight yanked out his sword with a roar. “Is this it?!” he bellowed, the blood thundering in his ears, “Trickery and make-believe – you’re too late! I’ve seen this, I’ve lived through this! Everything I’ve fought, everything I’ve seen, is my life all you have to shield you now?" All seeing. All knowing. All scumbag.

16-Feb-2016 22:24:29

Er Ril

Er Ril

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-=Night Fires.=-

Hauling himself up the rope, hand over hand, John Black reached the ships rail and heaved his body up and over it onto his ruined deck as the first fire balls began to detonate below.

Leaning on the rail, Black paused for moment to light himself a cigar as the flashes of flame ignited the night sky and the rapidly unfolding scene of carnage below.

"Lass still kens a trick or two,"
The Mercenary cackled, taking a long drag on the cigar and exhaling twin gouts of smoke from both nostrils.

Clapping his hands together and grinning heartily, Black turned on his heel and set to work.
Pacing across the deck, John Black approached the raised platform situated just behind the bridge, the platform which housed the Ships Mortar.

Most of The B*rstards cannons were in ruins, their castings cracked, wooden mounts splintered and rotten,
But the large, heavy iron drum of the Mortar had managed to withstand the vessels harsh voyage and crash landing.

Stamping up the steps onto the bridge, Black hauled himself onto the ladder behind the cracked ships wheel and up onto the mortar platform.

Standing before the immense, iron gun, Blacks single eye moved slowly to focus upon the nearby Fort, from which the cavalry had issued.

Face eerily illuminated by the glow of his cigar, Captain John Black grinned.

22-Feb-2016 14:38:51

Azigarath

Azigarath

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Playroom

Had Siera felt the vision of the Playroom? Perhaps, but it was too short; the link was still weak. What great loneliness Spirry felt to be aware from what he loved most, feeling like a child taken away from his parents while really, really wanting to share something with them. Yet, he dreamed that excellent dream, and enjoyed it.

“You never answered my question, Charles. Are you afraid of pain? You see the faces of pain, revolving around and around. But there is one face missing, do you know who's face it is? Only one more face to go, just one more death needed... Come, to me, the faces of those you know, they are waiting for you to join them.”

23-Feb-2016 07:20:51

Er Ril

Er Ril

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-=Shameless Recton=-

Cackling merrily, John Black began heartily cranking the large, iron handle set into the Mortars immense, turn table like base, ringing the cauldron shaped cannons trajectory slowly round to face the Castle...

"Wait... Ye wot?"

Glancing up through Capt Lasky's screen, The Mercenary tilted his head to one side and blinked his single eye.

"Ach away wit' ye laddie, I'm pretty sure I didnae..."

At this point a Stage Hand scurried in from stage left and whispered something into Blacks ear while pointing down to the large, thick sheaf of papers in his hand labeled "Into The Fire: Script. By DF Angel."

"What?! Lemme see that!"

Snatching the script, Black began leafing through it, shook his head and flung it away over one shoulder.

"Never could bloody read anyway..."
The Captain grumbled.

"Also,"
The Stage Hand put in,
"Your also contractually obligated to endorse our sponsors at regular post intervals."

"Ye wot...?"

The screen faded out and back in again, to reveal John Black stood back in the Square, facing his Elfish opponent as a group of heavy cavalry came thundering out of the Fort.

"Mmmmh!"
Black declared, taking a large swig of the take out Coffee he now held in one hand,
"This New Gorebuck, Skinny, Light Latte really is the Hellmutts nuts, Gorebucks! For all yer coffee needs... Urgh!"

Blacks shameless contractual endorsement was swiftly cut off as a blast of dust hitting him squarely in the face!

Staggering back spluttering and cursing, dropping his coffee and groping blindly for his sword, The Mercenary retreated from the sudden onslaught as The Elf's sword blows rang again and again off his heavy, iron breastplate...

23-Feb-2016 15:04:50 - Last edited on 23-Feb-2016 15:05:24 by Er Ril

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