Chun-Li, Burial Complex

Chun-Li nodded and followed Edward and Leo down the stair with another lit torch in hand.

Riverrock, City Center

The point of Johnny’s rapier tore through the fabric of the vampire spawn’s improvised cloak and left a long gash on its right bicep. Almost immediately, however, the wound began to heal over, the vampire’s unnatural body undoing most of the damage until only a faint nick remained.

Snarling, the monster turned and lashed out at Johnny as he ran past. Its gnarled claws caught the fabric of his jerkin, tearing a patch out of it and passing so close to his skin that he’d feel a sudden and deeply unpleasant chill in his back. It made to follow him, but before it could do so the watchwoman brought her sword down on its back in a two-handed swing; it staggered from the force of the blow, but was otherwise unhurt, and turned its attention upon her.

As the two of them fought, Johnny would find that the vampire’s victim was still alive, but only just; her pulse was weak and erratic, and it was blatantly clear from the sheer amount of red staining her dress that she had lost a lot of blood. If she was not stabilized quickly, her life would soon slip away.

The spiralling stairs wound their way deep into the earth and rock, narrow enough that the group was forced to descend in single file and cramped enough that the Champions might find themselves growing a little claustrophobic as they made their way down. It was difficult to say how long they descended. In the stifling and musty air, gauging the passage of time felt all but impossible; at length even the dim light of the top of the stairs was so far away that it could not be seen any longer, and the bottom was still not yet in sight.

At least half an hour must have gone by before the stairs, quite suddenly, came to an end, depositing the Champions and Nana Karas in a short antechamber. At the far end stood a narrow archway, through which could be seen a vast open chamber with a vaulted roof; hundreds of alcoves lined this chamber’s curving walls in ascending tiers, each one holding the gauze-wrapped form of a mummified corpse arranged in silent repose. A ghostly light filled the place, issuing forth from no obvious source, providing enough illumination to see.

At the center of this immense sepulchre there stood a small dais, on which rested a perfect sphere of black onyx as large as a man was tall. Black miasma clung to this jet black orb like a funeral shroud, throbbing and seething like a thing alive, and if the Champions listened closely they would be able to hear a faint throbbing sound like the beat of a monstrous heart coming from its direction.

“There it is,” Nana Karas said, grimacing with disgust. “Even with the protection of my talismans, I can feel it…”

And it was true. All of the Champions, with the possible exception of Envy, would feel an uncomfortable sensation akin to a void in the pit of their stomach, gnawing and cold. The orb and the darkness which surrounded it seemed to suck all ambient like in and smother it, filling the air with a dead gloom that left the world in its immediate vicinity desaturated and grey.

“This is even more powerful than I imagined,” the old crone muttered as she worried her lip in a nervous fashion. “Destroying it won’t be easy, no it won’t…”

The hellwasp swarm exploded in a stream of hateful invective at Xigbar’s words, some of the insects managing to break free of his Magnera spell and come at him. They never reached him, however, and their spiteful curses were blasted away into nothingness as all became sound and fury.

The shockwave of Xigbar’s self-destruction caved in the corridor, sending a wave of dust, debris and pressure hurtling down the collapsing passageway back into the entrance chamber of the ziggurat. Saren, Grey, the Doctor, Samus, Kyouko and Sayaka were all swept off their feet by the blast, tumbling into the wall like leaves caught in a hurricane, the impact not strong enough to kill or cripple them but plenty strong enough to leave dazed and with ringing ears.

Further to the east, Sazh and Luigi were spared the brunt of the explosion—but they still got hit with a face full of dust. Sazh barely had enough time to close his eyes before the wall of powdered stone slammed into them, and if not for the mask he was wearing he’d have inhaled a lungful of choking grit.

“What the hell was that?!” he yelled, once the roaring in his ears had subsided.

The Chocobo chick emerged from his afro, so covered in soot that the tiny yellow bird’s feathers were almost entirely black. Coughing, it fluttered onto Sazh’s shoulder with a daze and swayed there drunkenly.

Eastern Passage

The entire corridor shook around Fluttershy, plumes of dust tumbling from the roof overhead; from far off, the Pegasus would be able to hear the distant rumbling off the explosion. After a moment the temple settled, and a profound hush settled over the passage.

Fluttershy had covered some distance since parting ways from the group, rounding several bends to the point where it seemed she might be walking along the ziggurat’s north face now. Further down the hall and to her left, there lay a steep ramp which led to an upper level; light was shining down from the top of this ramp, though it did not seem to be sunlight…

Xigbar

Light, sound, pain. For a brief instant, Xigbar’s world was made up of these three things and these alone.

Then pain became numbness. Sound became silence. Light became darkness, unbroken and absolute.

Death.

Weightlessness, drifting. A light in the distance. Images, disturbing and blurred. Squawked orders running together. Silhouettes made of flickering static, garbed in hodgepodge uniforms. Eyes like black holes.

Sounds of torment and suffering. Drawing closer. Closer…

No.

A gentle presence took hold of the Nobody’s shoulders, steering him away. The light fades, the awful sights and unsettling sounds fading with it.

You will not return to that place. Not yet, not when such evil fills it.

The voice is soothing, calm, at once male and female, youthful and aged. A symbol takes shape in the darkness, a serpent made of pastel blue light devouring its own tail in a perfect circle; and within this circle, a blue ankh aglow with a soft inner light.

Rest, Xigbar-who-was-once-Braig, the voice says. The Interloper, Omega, may hold your fate within his hand, but I am Eshvolem, the Eternal Companion. It is I who breathes life into all things, I who stand with all men throughout their lives as the Eternal Companion, I who guides their souls to their ultimate reward. This is my realm, and here my power is absolute; within my embrace he cannot touch you.

A force enfolds the Nobody like a warm embrace.

Rest. Your sacrifice has earned you reprieve, Xigbar-who-was-once-Braig. When the danger has passed, you will return; but until that time comes, let your mind empty of worldly concerns. Rest…

And so he would, until the time was right.

“Kid, would you shut up?!” a gruff voice yelled at Link from further down the hall. “I’m tryin’ ta sleep over here!”

“Be silent, prisoner!” Tethrasur snapped, before turning his attention back to Jack. The first shaman’s eyes narrowed. “You ask a lot of me, Jack. You would have me believe that one of my people’s most respected chieftains, one of the most moderate among them and one of the most in favour of peace with your kind, has secretly been…” His face screwed up in a disgusted grimace as he voiced the loathsome word. “Conspiring against his own people? That he would put our own in harm’s way, allow them to be hurt or killed, simply to bring about a war that he was outspokenly against? You must be mistaken; such deception, such disregard for innocent life, is too monstrous to countenance.”

The Watcher’s victim was a complete mess. Somehow, without removing the man’s cloak, it had ripped him in two in such a way that the front half of his body and the lower jaw were now separate from the head and the rear half. Many of his organs were also missing, including his eyes, and those which remained were withered and atrophied as if they’d been left out to dry in the hot desert sun for days if not weeks.

A miserable fate, to be sure.

Strange creatures scuttled out of the shadows at the edges of the chapel, glossy black arthropods as big as the smallest dogs which converged on the corpse, lifted it off the ground with their pincers, and began carrying it off on their backs like ants bringing food back to the nest. They did not react to Pride’s presence or that of his shadows at all, except to go around them if they blocked their path.

They carried the body to a tiny chute built into the base of the nearest wall, and unceremoniously dumped it in. Then they dispersed, returning to the shadows whence they came—whereupon they simply vanished, there one moment and gone the next.

Meanwhile, Pride would find the transept the two men had gone through let outside, to an arched sky bridge a hundred metres long which connected the cathedral he’d just left to a gothic, heavily-buttressed spire of a building a hundred metres in height. It would be immediately clear just from looking around that wherever he was, this was not Riverrock; buildings and urban development stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions, cold and foreboding structures sharing the same bleak architectural design—towers of stone and metal that scraped the sky, thrusting upward like jagged, manmade mountains.

The sky overhead was a yawning black void bereft of stars or clouds, in which winged shapes wheeled and turned like outsized vultures, cones of silver light shining from their glittering eyes as they scanned the rooftops below. An immense shape dominated the sky, an island which hung suspended hundreds of feet above the city by no visible force; structures that might have been berths and docks ringed this floating landmass, and faint shapes that might have been airborne skiffs or fanciful flying machines could be seen going to and from these docks.

Further ahead, the two cloaked figures reached the apex of the bridge and stopped. One raised his arm as if hailing something, and moments later a flying skiff descended from above and pulled up alongside them. A skeleton stood aft at the skiff’s controls, completely devoid of skin or clothing; Pride would sense no soul and no intelligence from this thing, just a distant, animating force.

The two figures boarded the sloop and sat down; if he hurried, Pride might be able to reach the skiff and get on before it left.

Overhead, there came the faint sound of sheets flapping in a breeze—the same sound that had heralded the arrival of a Watcher. And if Pride were to look up, he might notice one of those winged shapes wheeling towards him…

Chun-Li, Burial Complex

"It would probably suck in any chi that I tried to fire a Kikosho at it," Chun-Li said to the others, hugging her own body tightly. She did not like the uncomfortable feeling of this place as it felt far too much like last night. "So what do we do?"

Sabrina, Crystal Mayham

Sabrina quickly rolled to dodge Dusknoir's Shadow Ball, but she ended up being separated from it when she dodged. Seeing that her Pokeball was some distance away from her and Dusknoir in the direction of Owain, Sabrina began crawling towards the Pokeball on her hands and knees and away from where Dusknoir was towards Owain. She wasn't particularly close to the ground though.

edited 7th Aug '14 11:14:53 PM by GameGuruGG

Sayaka: Temple run

"Right...not creepy at all"

Sayaka looked around, slightly unnerved by the weird singing. To make it worse, she thought she could understand some of it and she wasn't really sure if she was meant to be able to. Great, magical singing; for all she knew, they could be in some sort of illusion and that voice was what was keeping them there...

Don't be stupid

She sobered down but seriously, in a world like this, she figured that anything goes. Kyouko's own response elicited nothing more than a sideways glance but the veteran could tell the other magical girl was on edge. Then after a moment of tense silence, Sayaka began wondering where the others were.....

"You think they.." She ventured, but that was as far as she got.

A sudden wave of pure kinetic force came hurtling down the tunnel ahead and sent Sayaka tumbling to the ground. Rolling a few meters on the dusty floor, it took Sayaka a good minute before she recovered. Standing shakily up and wiping dirt and grime from her face she coughed and said groggily.

"What-what was that?"

Deep Riverrock - City Center
Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit
Johnny dropped to his knees beside the bleeding woman. She was still breathing, but she was bleeding heavily. Resisting the urge to throw up (again), he summoned what little medical knowledge he had, and whipped his now-torn cloak off, balled it up and applied pressure to the gaping neck wound.
Fuck, that's disgusting. he thought, as blood and innards were held against the fabric in his hand.

He racked his brain, thinking of other things you did in this sort of situation. Put pressure on the wound... check. Stop patient from closing eyes...

"Uh, please stay awake. If you stay awake, you're less likely to die. I think."

Yeah, that must've really made her confident, that her first aid responder guy doesn't know for sure if closing her eyes will make her die faster.

Confidence. That was it.

Drawing up the magic the Bard had bestowed upon him, he began to sing, lacing his words with Inspire Courage for the second time in roughly a few minutes.

"My friend drove off the other day
Now he's gone and all they say
Is you gotta live cause life goes on
But now I see I'm mortal too
and I cant live my life like you
Gotta live it up while life goes on

And I think it's alright
That I do what I like
Cause thats the way I wanna live
Its how I give
And I'm still giving

And now I wonder bout my friend
And if he gave all he could give
Cause he lived his life like I live mine
If you could see inside my head
Then you would start to understand
The things I value in my heart

And I think it's alright
That I do what I like
Cause thats the way I wanna live
Its how I give
And I'm still giving

And I think it's alright
That I do what I like
Cause thats the way I wanna live
Its how I give
And I'm still giving

Gotta make a plan
Gotta do what's right
Can't run around in circles
If ya wanna build a life
But I don't wanna make a plan
For a day far away
While im young and while I'm able
All I wanna do is..."

"Fuck, for how long have we been walking?" Edward asked as his eyes adjusted to the new source of light. "That's it? There it is? No more traps, no more zombies, nothing on our way?" He looked around, surprised. "I'm tempted to throw the bastard over here against it to see what'll happen." He grinned at Envy. "Care to give it a try?"

Looking back at Nana Karas, the alchemist took a moment to sigh and put his hands to his hips. "It's not attacking us, Nana Karas... although I can feel something coming out of it, whatever it is. This means we have enough time to plan our next move carefully, and it won't be go back the way we came. You got any ideas about where we might start, Nana?"

Western Passage

Upon seeing the wave of dust coming his way, Luigi lowered his face, trying to cover it from the blast, but some of it still got on his eyes... and on the rest of his body. "Can we a-not go there?" He asked to Sazh, his legs shivering, shaking down some of the soot that got all over his body.

???

Always keeping his body shrouded in the cloak, Pride continued in motion, but his shadows, having plenty of places to hide and listen, told him of his surroundings, allowing him to walk without ever coming out of his disguise. But through a hole in the cloak, he managed to take a look at his surroundings. Impressive place, indeed... and he could tell that this place held a power that overshadowed the world he had left in ways that the people from that world could not understand.

He wanted it... he desired it... perhaps by following those two, he could find the source of it...

But then, a whisper from his shadows. A sight, an image, one that he did not want to see. Something, flying down towards him. Pride started walking just a little bit faster, not dropping his disguise in order to not accidentally reveal himself, in case the winged creature was going for someone else. But when it did not change courses, Pride immediately dropped the cloak, running as fast as his legs could allow him to, cursing the form he had chosen all those centuries ago.

Requiring a rather dramatic maneuver, once Pride got close enough to the skiff, he jumped, his shadows wrapping around his waist and launching him just a little more so that he would land on the skiff without a problem like a broken leg (something he didn't need, as he knew it would take weeks for his regeneration, now slow and weak, to fix that). And those shadows, no longer having to worry about their master as he sailed through the air, flew towards the two cloaked figures, turning into not one, but four spears. Two for each being, not to kill them, but to stab their shoulders, pinning them to the skiff right before Pride landed on it.

If the maneuver went effortlessly, and Pride was correct about the skeleton driver's soulless nature, then the skiff would depart, and he would have two prisoners... if not, well then, he still had his immortality...

Gogol Plains, Burial Complex

Being a cyborg, and even with wooden limbs like these, Leo felt no exhaustion throughout the, what, half-hour or so that they were climbing down those stairs?

Leo wasn't getting tired at all, but he did have a limit to his patience.

These dark, undead lords sure have a knack for long and boring.

Finally, they made it to the bottom, and Leo wasn't prepared for what he saw, and felt.

Evil was the only word he could use to describe this feeling. Like life itself was being drained out of him and used to power this monstrosity of a gem. The Strike One agent had dealt with numerous cutthroat maniacs, selfish killers and egotistical fuckwits all his policing career, but he'd never seen anything quite like this.

Never could a seemingly inanimate, over-sized hunk of jewellery scare him this much.

"I'm guessing brute force is a no-no. Any ideas? I'm new to this whole "undead" business."

Fluttershy braced herself when the corridor suddenly shook and dust fell from the ceiling. She looked around fretfully, hearing the explosion out in the distance. "Random explosion from the other path. Must mean the others took care of whatever nasty thing is back there. They're probably fine." However, the pegasus really did not sound convinced of her own words.

The pony continued down the winding corridor, having seen absolutely nothing at all. This made her very nervous, as it was just begging for something to pop out at her. Despite going down what was essentially a straight line, she was starting to feel like she was getting lost, which did not help matters at all. The pony eventually came upon a doorway with light coming from it.

Fluttershy looked behind out of reflex and turned back to look at the doorway. The pony gulped nervously. She quietly flew up to the side of the doorway. She carefully peeked in......

Jack raised his hands helplessly, his features bleak.

"I do not understand it myself. It was as great a shock and as unbelievable to me as it must be to you. As I said, I do not know why he has done what he has, or even what he has done, exactly. Perhaps he only wished a pretext for war and his allies chose this way of giving it to him. Perhaps he is a prisoner within his own mind, forced to watch as another acts through him. All I know is what he has done and what I saw. I am a stranger here, I know nothing of his past, his ways, anything that might explain where he went astray. And I can discover nothing from within this cell."

He paused, then a thought came to the front of his mind.

"I have promised to keep secret the identity of the one who spoke this to me, but before the meeting, I was able to ask some questions within this village. I asked about the origin of the recent attacks. My source spoke of an elf. I do not know if that means anything to you, but it is the only other clue that I have. That is all I know. I ask again, will you help us solve this mystery?"

-The skink follows the lizardmen into the jail. There is some yelling by -taste air- something else, but none of them are attacking... yet. Donkey Kong scuttles into a darkened corner and up a wall, ready to deliver a painful pinch to any attacker.-

Ia-Kong Ziggurat, Western Passage

" You wanted these traps, -active,- Doctor?"

- Saren was about to add something to the effect of the Time Lord enjoying the fate of a pincushion, but thought better of it. Further snark was not worth worsened nausea. Increased nausea would make what he was about to do difficult. Focusing on the arm fragments left behind, the turian made them leap away from and through the swarm of hellish hornets. He blinked, not having expected more than a swift clatter across the floor. He then saw that Xigbar had initiated a magnetic spell, which had assisted the recovery. But why was he glowing...?

Not this again...

Saren gave the parts another concentrated yank before grabbing the Doctor mid-dive. The explosion flattened him against the stone floor, heat washing over his armour while debris pinged off. A sigh hissed forth from inside his helmet. -

" Problem solving does not need playing the hero."

- The turian rolled over into a sitting position, eyeing the impromptu barricade of rubble blocking the passage. -

" We could have used the firepower. Threat eliminated, at least. Hrrrmhh..."

- His prosthetic fragments clattered around him, slowly and methodically forming into a pack connected with his back armour. -

" Combat status now around acceptable. Anyone wounded?"

-Unknown-

Where, where am I?

Am I alive still, or..?

   -Pain-   

I can't move. It hurts, darn it.

   -Numbness-   

Will I be stuck here forever?

   -The Subjugator-   

I guess this is it for me then.

No.

No?

-Salvation-

You will not return to that place. Not yet, not when such evil fills it.

Oh. Well, alright then. I guess...

-A Question-

Who are you? A friend? Or...

-Assurance-

Rest, Xigbar-who-was-once-Braig.

Rest? I don't think I could if I tried...

The Interloper, Omega, may hold your fate within his hand, but I am Eshvolem, the Eternal Companion. It is I who breathes life into all things, I who stand with all men throughout their lives as the Eternal Companion, I who guides their souls to their ultimate reward. This is my realm, and here my power is absolute; within my embrace he cannot touch you.

If you say so...

-Comfort-

Rest. Your sacrifice has earned you reprieve, Xigbar-who-was-once-Braig.

Thanks, I guess...

When the danger has passed, you will return; but until that time comes, let your mind empty of worldly concerns. Rest…

Rest, huh? At least I finally get that nap I've been needing...

-Sleep-

edited 7th Aug '14 3:42:49 PM by VoidsEmpathy

Riverrock, City Center

As Johnny tended to her, the woman’s eyes focused on his face. They were bloodshot, the pupils shrunken to tiny little pinpricks that seemed to stare right through him.

“Help me…” she croaked, the words barely audible, just before he began to sing. The magic-laced lyrics seemed to have an effect on her, bringing her heartbeat down to less dangerous levels. She was still bleeding from the gash in her throat, albeit not as badly as she’d been a moment ago; it was possible that she would live to see the end of the day.

All throughout this impromptu song and first aid session, the watchwoman continued to struggle with the vampire spawn. The two of them were locked in a stalemate; she had the advantage of reach thanks to her sword, and was managing to keep it at bay. At the same time, however, the abomination was healing its wounds as fast as she could inflict them, her strikes riddling its improvised cloak with cuts and gashes but leaving the vampire itself otherwise unharmed. Without the right tools, she simply couldn’t make any headway against her foe.

So she changed tactics.

Quickly sidestepping as the vampire swiped at her face with a shadow-wreathed claw, the watchwoman planted her feet and swung her sword, cutting a massive tear into the fabric of her opponent’s cloak so that its back was completely exposed to the sunlight.

The effect was immediate and spectacular. The vampire spawn let out an ear-splitting shriek, tongues of smoke wafting from its pallid flesh as if it were burning under the sun’s light; howling in agony, it turned and bolted for the nearest source of shade—a nearby alleyway—with all the speed its undead legs could muster—

Only to find its path blocked by an imposing, hard-faced man with an equally imposing sword in his hands.

“Begone!” Stalgrim roared, and brought his shining silvery greatsword down upon the monster’s head. The blade flared with searing white light and loosed a deafening roar like thunder as it struck, cutting the vampire in two as easily as a hot knife carving butter. Its bisected halves fell to the ground on either side of him, carried along by the sheer momentum of its frantic charge, and quickly burned to cinders.

[Stalgrim scored a critical hit on the Vampire Spawn! The Vampire Spawn takes 22 points of slashing damage, 18 points of holy damage and 7 points of sonic damage for a total of 47; the Vampire Spawn is reduced to -18 hit points and has been slain!]

[Johnny gains 1,350 experience points for helping to slay this CR 4 monster. Johnny has advanced to Level 2!]

Nana Karas opened her mouth to speak. Before she could answer, however, a reedy, mocking voice chuckled from somewhere above. “Oh, I have an idea…”

Twenty feet above the orb, a section of the air became blurred and distorted. Space contracted and warped in that spot, folding in on itself as a silhouette slowly took shape like an oily smear on a glass plate. It was a silhouette, strange and inhuman—a solid block of unbroken colour at first, but quickly gaining shading and definition as if some strange and terrible thing were drawing itself into existence.

In mere moments the source of that voice was revealed, a monstrous creature like the sketch Nana Karas had shown the Champions earlier that morning, but far more horrific. It was as if some cruel and uncaring god had taken two distinct creatures, an enormous toad and a grotesque hag of a giantess, and fused them together at the pelvis; two-armed and four-legged, the monstrosity hovered high above the ground, its webbed toes dangling beneath the bloated frame of its froglike lower body. Its human half, which sprouted from the frog’s hips like an inverted parody of a centaur, was naked and hideously emaciated; its arms were entirely too long, so long that the elbows reached its toes and it was forced to bend them like the limbs of a praying mantis. Wicked black claws adorned its freakishly elongated fingers, and a tangled mane of filthy grey hair fell all the way to its hips, concealing the upper half of its gaunt, grinning face.

In and of itself the creature was disgusting, but there was more to it than that; somehow it seemed wrong on some deep, fundamental level, as if this creature were something that was not supposed to exist and should never have existed. Stars danced in the rolling, bulging eyes of its frog head, and a psychedelic film of some strange liquid seemed to ripple and shimmer across every inch of its grotesque body.

“I must thank you mortals for making it all the way down here,” the Tzitzimitl crooned, speaking without moving either of its mouths. “It has been ever so dull down here, forced to guard the Urizen’s wonderful little toy all this time.” The creature idly flexed its fingers, and smiled. “Hmm… Yes, I think you will make for wonderful entertainment. The light of your souls is… exquisite.”

It lifted a hand, the motion so sudden that its wrist cracked with the force of a gunshot, and raised an index finger.

“Let us see how bright that light flares, before I devour it! Dance for me, puppets!”

Tzitzimitl

With that screech it pointed at Nana Karas—and a pencil-thin beam of frigid white light shot from its fingertip, striking the old witch in the blink of an eye. Nana Karas flew back with a cry of pain and landed in a heap, patterns of frost spreading across her robes and skin from the point of impact. At the same time, the Tzitzimitl’s toad head opened its toothless maw and extended an impossibly long, chameleonesque tongue, which shot at Garland; if the hideous appendage connected with him, his armour would start to smoke and melt as if the tongue were coated with a potent acid, and further its suction cup of a tip would try to adhere to him…

[Tzitzimitl casts polar ray on Nana Karas! Nana Karas takes 63 points of cold damage!]

[Tzitzimitl makes a ranged touch attack against Garland with its tongue!]

Eastern passage

Trotting up to the top of the ramp and peering through the archway there, Fluttershy would be able to make out a room through the light shining from within. It seemed to be a ceremonial chamber of some sort, with four altars arranged at the cardinal compass points around a central fifth altar; the four outer slabs had nothing on them, and the tangled vines wrapped around them made it clear that, whatever those altars might have been used for in the past, they had gone without use for some time.

The same was not true of the central altar. Its worn stone surface was devoid of any plant growth—and there was a figure lying atop it.

Lying there, as if in a deep slumber, was a woman of the most peculiar sort; clad in plates of saintly white armour and a chasuble of pastel blue with white and gold filigree, she could have been a warrior priest… were it not for the crimson colour of her skin and hair, and the curling horns which sprouted from her temples and swept backward like those of a ram. A striking contrast, this demoness in hallowed garb; though her features were otherworldly and diabolical, her expression was one of serene tranquility, as might grace the face of one locked in a pleasant dream.

But this woman was not asleep. She was dead.

The wound in her side made that abundantly clear; something had left a deep gash just above her left hip, cutting through her armour and staining the surrounding fabric of her chasuble brown with dried blood. There were other signs of damage as well, nicks and dents in the ivory plates, bruises and scrapes that marred the tranquil beauty of her face. However this woman had met her end, it had not been a peaceful experience.

A hammer lay in the dead woman’s lap, an artful thing small enough to be held in one hand. Its head was made of a strange sea-green metal, and inscribed with a number of curious runes, the largest and most prominent of which was an ankh. The same symbol adorned an amulet hung on the priestess’ neck on a fine chain.

A voice, disembodied and ethereal, suddenly spoke. “Who stirs the silence? Who comes to disturb my rest?”

Tethrasur turned away from the cell, narrowing his eyes as he cupped his chin in one hand. A variety of conflicting emotions played across the First Shaman’s face, eyes darting back and forth as though he were waging a silent argument with himself. He remained in that position for at least half a minute, before closing his eyes and blowing out a long sigh through his nostrils.

“I seem to recall that Chief Shinuaq’tan occasionally received visits from an elf,” he said at length. “Rather infrequently, perhaps once every half a decade or so; this was before my time, and so I cannot say this with any certainty, but supposedly he has been enjoying this elf’s company for at least fifty years. I could not tell you who he is, or what business he had with the Chieftain; I myself have only seen him once, and only briefly at that. I remember that he was dressed in a peculiar robe made from silver scales…”

The First Shaman trailed off, then shook his head. “You understand that I cannot promise you anything,” he told the Champions. “Honour binds my hands, just as it does yours. But if what you suggest is true, if there is even the slightest chance of it being so… then I cannot afford to overlook this.”

Tethrasur drove a fist into his palm and bowed deeply at the waist. “You have my thanks for bringing this to my attention. I shall return.”

And with those words he turned and was gone.

As soon as the sound of his footsteps had faded away, the gruff voice that had yelled out from an adjacent cell a minute ago let out a snort. “What’re the odds. I go through all the trouble of writin’ it out on the floor with my toes yesterday, puttin’ my own neck on the choppin’ block for you turkeys, an’ then that guy just waltzes in an’ tells you all about the guy what hired us.” He paused. “By the way, hello. It’s me, the dwarf from yesterday. I’d shake hands, but that’s kinda difficult seein’ as we’re in diff’rent cells an’ all.”

The two hooded figures had just enough time to turn towards the leaping figure of Pride, eyes going wide in surprise and alarm, before his spears plunged into their shoulders and pinned them to their seats. Both men cried out, sounding more surprised and angry than genuinely pained, and they were barely bleeding; what little blood actually bled from their wounds was turgid and black, as if it had spoiled within them.

“What in Hell’s name?!” one of them yelled.

“Who are you?” the other demanded, wincing and gritting his teeth. “What is the meaning of this?!”

The skeleton steersman, for its part, did not react to this commotion whatsoever. It simply adjusted the controls with robotic efficiency, making the skiff pull away from the sky bridge and fly off—not towards that island floating in the sky above, but rather towards the heart of the grim urban sprawl that made up this dark city.

It pulled away just in time; the immense winged shape that had been bearing down on Pride dove through the space the skiff had just vacated with a thunderous whoosh of displaced air, passing beneath the sky bridge before it pulled up and began to climb. In a few seconds it was hovering at a higher level than Pride’s hijacked skiff, but by that point the craft had already managed to put some distance between them.

A disembodied voice, icily cold, glacially deep and uncomfortably familiar, spoke as if from just over Pride’s shoulder. “Causing trouble already, my boy? That simply will not do…”

The Watcher was already wheeling after Pride’s skiff in hot pursuit, though it would not be able to catch up immediately. Seemingly realizing this, the beast slowed its pursuit and began to let out a series of rhythmic, alien sounds that could have been chanting...

And in response a magical glyph not unlike a transmutation circle appeared directly in the skiff’s path, hovering in midair. Light vomited from the center of this glyph, iridescent and chaotic, and from its depths emerged three hideous creatures—grotesque hybrids of man and bird, like eight-foot-tall anthropomorphic vultures.◊

Squawking and cawing, the vulture men turned and flew after the skiff as it shot past them, hot on Pride’s heels.

edited 9th Aug '14 7:29:33 PM by SullenFrog

Burial Complex

"Nana Karas!" Edward yelled out, instinctively taking a few steps back when that freakish tongue shot out of the Tzitzimitl's mouth. He turned around and immediately ran for the old woman, getting on one knee to help her up, holding her with his automail whilst his eyes scoured the room, trying to find out what it was made of, and if there were any elements he could transmute into weapons apart from stone. "Come on, Nana Karas. Tell me you're fine, tell me you're fine!"

Burial Complex

"Nana Karas!" When Tzitzimitl appeared and shot Nana Karas, Chun-Li began trying to use her Kikoken to hurt the... the creature, an obvious look of worry in her eyes since she was not sure how well her chi attacks were going to work on this... thing! However, Chun-Li only saw two options... destroy the creature or destroy the orb. Chun-Li had to at least try both options first before concluding that things were futile.

Gogol Plains, Burial Complex

Envy just watched as all his 'teammates' winced and grumbled at the orb in front of them. For some reason, that thing made him feel so much better. Ideas were already forming in the back of his head about what he could do with it. Of course, he had to get rid of the pipsqueak and his friends first.

"I got an idea too." The homunculus gritted his teeth, transforming his arm into a blade. "Shut up, and kill that bitch!" He rushed forward, attempting to slice the tongue grappling with Garland in two- as fast as possible, in order to avoid maintaining too much contact with the thing.

???

Pride remained with a calm expression on his face during the whole ordeal, not reacting to the questions of his hostages. When the vulture men were summoned, he sat down, watching as the shadows wrapped around him, tying him to the boat. Then, his shadows procceeded to pierce the bodies of his hostage and of the skeleton steerman through the back of their necks. His intention was simple: to spread the shadows through the innards of his hostages, controlling that, in a gruesome repeat of a move he had done previously with Alphonse Elric.

If successful, the shadows would wrap around the bones of the skeleton steerman and the muscles of the hostages, forcing the skeleton steerman to drive up, towards the island. The two hostages, meanwhile, would pull out whatever weapons they had and stand ready to defend the skiff. If they did not have any weapons, then the shadows would make them stand at the edge of the skiff, like silent watchers, ready to throw themselves upon the vulture men if they got close.

His objective was the island, and as Pride closed his eyes to focus solely on his shadows, he knew nothing would stop him. And if his plan didn't work, then the shadows would wrap around the hostages and hurl them at the vulture men, before trying to wrestle the controls from the skeleton steerman.

Fluttershy became almost entranced by the sight of this apparently demonic figure in Holy armor, completely oblivious to the deeper implications of the woman's garb. The demon woman seemed almost like in a peaceful slumber, only the obvious blood staining on her side any indication of her true fate. The pony almost seemed compelled the enter the chamber, once again looking behind quickly, weary of anything that might jump her.

He stepped inside the chamber -

"Who stirs the silence? Who comes to disturb my rest?"

"EEP!" The pegasus squeeked and hid behind the wall again. "U-U-Um, sorry if I bothered you, I'll leave you alone now," the pony quickly said as she started to look around for a way out while still rooted in at that spot.

edited 10th Aug '14 4:11:44 PM by UdtheImp

The Doctor shakes the dust off, his eyes looking empty. "Doctor reporting in healthy." Yet again... I'm only a threat to those around me. Stay happy Doctor. Fluttershy and the others will need the happy Doctor once the groups reunite. Shake it off. Focus the anger if you have to...

He stands up with the spark still sort of dim in his eyes but otherwise looking and sounding like his normal self. "Saren, report in with Samus. See how long we have until the groups can reunite."

Riverrock - City Center
Stalgrim's sudden appearance and slaying of the monster almost made Johnny stop applying pressure to the gushing neck wound, but he caught himself in time. He couldn't let the monster that man had become ruin his name by killing someone.

He shot a sheepish look towards Stalgrim and the Watchwoman, beckoning them for help. If they could get this woman to a doctor or something, there was hopefully a chance she would live. It was surprising she was even still alive, as the throat had a major artery running through it.

Although he didn't feel it thanks to the adrenaline in his veins, Johnny's muscles began to tingle, as if he had exerted himself more than he had.

"If you are now brave enough to speak of your master openly, then tell me what else you know of him and why he wishes war," Jack said. "Or better yet, call back the First Shaman and tell him. In the meantime, I must see to my friends."

Suiting action to word, he turned and dropped to one knee beside Ranmaru.

"You are alive," he said softly, "And our captors will not permit you honorable suicide, even after our trial. We will doubtless be executed as the lowest of criminals. If nothing else, you must wish to avoid that. Will you live, that you may fight and atone for what has happened? We still need your help."

Village of Threshold — Jail

“They are barbarians,” Ranmaru said quietly. “These monstrous lizard-men.”
He raised a clenched fist before his face. “They have shamed us all, and desecrated the daishou of the Mori clan by stealing it. That I cannot allow. If they will not allow me a samurai's death... I shall kill them. Every last one of them. I will cut them all down until nothing but burnt temples remain.”

edited 12th Aug '14 12:46:52 AM by desdendelle

(BUMP)

edited 16th Aug '14 7:18:58 PM by LatverianBadger

Riverrock, City Center

With the vampire spawn no longer a concern, Stalgrim sheathed his sword in the scabbard over his shoulder and strode briskly toward Johnny.

“Step back,” he said tersely as he reached the stricken woman’s side, where he dropped to one knee and swept his gaze across her pale form. After a moment’s assessment, he nodded and grunted in approval. “Good work. You managed to stabilize her condition; she should be out of immediate danger. Still, there’s no time to waste…”

With those words the captain of the City Watch placed a hand over the woman’s stomach and closed his eyes. He began to hum as if deep in concentration, and if Johnny were paying close attention he might notice that Stalgrim’s lips were moving almost imperceptibly, mouthing words that were barely audible. Then a nimbus of white light, soothing and warm, formed around his outstretched fingers, and before Johnny’s eyes this light spread into the woman’s body.

The change was almost instantaneous. The hideous bite marks on her neck quickly began to shrink and recede, healing over in the blink of an eye. Colour and vitality crept back into her skin, though she was still very pale, and her chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm as her breathing normalized. In mere moments she looked almost perfectly fine, the wound reduced to a pair of faint pinpricks over her jugular.

The light faded then, and Stalgrim slumped for a brief instant as if a great weight had lifted from his shoulders. “She’ll live,” he said, “though she’ll need time to recover her strength.” The half-orc fixed Johnny with his gaze then, and nodded. “You did good, son; without your efforts, she might have died before I could reach her.”

Gogol Plains—Burial Complex, Orb Chamber

Envy’s blade came down on the Tzitzimitl’s tongue… and bounced off, sending jarring vibrations down the Homunculus’ arm as if he’d just struck a slab of solid iron. His attack had not been entirely unsuccessful; he’d left a shallow cut a foot long in the monstrosity’s tongue, from which oozed a strange, swirling multihued liquid that must have been whatever passed for the monster’s blood.

This substance, and the slimy film that covered every inch of the Tzitzimitl’s body, now coated Envy’s blade and was even now seeping into his transmogrified skin. Immediately the world started to blur and go faintly out of focus, and a sudden weakness began to steal over him as this strange, otherworldly poison took effect…

[Envy has been poisoned! He must make a DC 30 Fortitude save or take 1d4 Constitution and Wisdom damage.]

The monster’s grotesque form shuddered briefly as Chun-Li’s ki attacks struck it, the hag’s mouth pulling taut in a rictus grin of pain and anger, before it let out another disembodied chuckle. “How very feisty, little spitfire. But that won’t make me dance…”

Crackling arcs of electricity danced around the monster’s hideously long fingers as it spoke, filling the air with the tang of ozone. “You will dance!” the Tzitzimitl crowed, thrusting a hand towards Chun-Li. And as it did this, a roar of thunder split the air and a bolt of lightning leapt from its fingertips, streaking towards the martial artist in the blink of an eye.

[The Tzitzimitl casts lightning bolt at Chun-Li!]

Meanwhile, Nana Karas was shivering violently as Edward helped her up. “Leggo of me,” she snapped at him, teeth chattering furiously and her skin dangerously pale. “’M fine; damn thing just t-t-took me by s-s-s-surprise, is all. Nana Karas’s not as spry as she used to b-b-be…”

Even as she said this, Edward might notice that the blast had blown away some of the dust and topsoil covering the ground. What lay beneath looked distinctly metallic, traces of copper and iron poking through from beneath the rock and dirt…

Apex—Ritual Chamber

“Wait. Do not be afraid…”

The air above the warrior woman’s corpse shimmered, and a spectral figure rose out of the body. Green and translucent, insubstantial as fog, it was almost a perfect reproduction of the woman laying cold and lifeless upon the altar, save for the fact that her feet trailed away into tails of mist, her hair billowed about her head as if she were underwater and her face was more gaunt, more haggard than that of her corpse.

“Please, don’t leave me alone,” the ghost whispered, almost plaintively. “I’ve not laid eyes upon a living soul in… in…” Trailing off, the phantasm helplessly shook her head. “I cannot even begin to guess how long it’s been.”

She looked at Fluttershy with eyes that were solid orbs of milky white, eyes that lacked iris or pupil but still managed to convey a sense of desperation and hope. “Tell me, was it you? Were you the one who heard my song? Has my salvation come at last?”

Entrance & Vicinity

Glancing at the shaking form of Luigi, Sazh scowled. “I don’t think so, pal.” And with those words he grabbed the plumber by his shoulders and started walking down the corridor, dragging him in the event that Luigi resisted. “I mean, if you got caught up in an explosion—or whatever the hell that was—wouldn’t ya want somebody ta come an’ make sure you were alright?”

As if to punctuate those words, the Chocobo chick fluttered down to land on Luigi’s nose, puffing itself up and putting its hands on its hips (so to speak) like a disappointed parent. It waved a feather in his face and chirped in admonishment.

“Yeah, tell ‘em chocobo,” Sazh muttered as they emerged into the dust-choked entrance chamber of the pyramid. Upon seeing everyone strewn about, and seeing that the mouth of the western passage was now completely filled with rubble, he came up short.

“O-kay, then…” Letting go of Luigi, glancing around in bemusement, the l’cie didn’t know what to make of this bizarre scene. “Anyone mind tellin’ me what the hell just happened?”

He glanced over his shoulder, and did a double take. “Now where’d Fluttershy get off to?”

Eshvolem’s Embrace

Xigbar-who-was-once-Braig, an alternative presents itself. My disciple stirs. The hour draws near when she shall be free of her heavy burden. An exchange may be made, if you wish to return to the land of the living.

Do you?

At Ranmaru’s words, the dwarf let out a sarcastic snort. “Yeah, great plan there Junior. And how are you gonna do that, then? Kill a whole race with your bare hands?” The mercenary chuckled. “An’ here I thought you people were tryin’ ta prevent this kinda crap, not start it.”

There was a pause, and a brief grunting that might have been the man digging wax out of an ear. “Anyway, can’t really tell ya much ‘bout that elf,” he said, a hint of tension underscoring his casual tone. “Not like he wined an’ dined us before hirin’ us, know what I’m sayin’? that said, I can definitely tell ya a couple ‘a things…”

Here the dwarf paused to let out a yawn, the sort one might make while stretching oneself out on the bed to make oneself comfortable. “Shaman’s right about that robe bein’ made outta silver scales, fer one thing. Genuine silver dragon hide, if I’m not mistaken; ran afoul o’ one a couple of years ago ‘cross the sea, wrecked the whole outfit I was workin’ with at the time. Made a point o’ not tanglin’ with ‘em from that point onwards. Elf’s got some serious stones to be walkin’ round in a suit made o’ dragonskin, lemme tell ya; it’s not the sorta thing them high-an’-mighty lizards take kindly to, if ya catch my drift.”

“Also,” he went on, “I think he gave us his name. I remember it sure was a strange name fer an elf, all fulla hard sounds an’ such. What was it, now? Karka-sumthin? Karkavantas? Nah, that ain’t right…”

Another pause, followed by the sound of snapping fingers. “Karkarantharas, that’s it.”

The skeleton steersman offered no resistance to Pride whatsoever, not even seeming to realize that it was under threat. The Homunculus’ shadows wrapped around its bones as easily and snugly as pulling on a glove, and without missing a beat the skeleton pulled its craft into a steady climb, veering sharply towards that island floating above.

The vulture men began to climb as well, albeit not as fast as the skiff, and they were beginning to lose ground. Angry squawks and shrieks filled the air in the craft’s wake as the winged hunters slowly but steadily fell behind, signalling the end of the chase…

Or it would have, had one of them not suddenly appeared on the deck right in front of Pride with a bang of displaced air.

Immediately the creature’s head shot forward on its spindly neck, beak opening wide to let out an ungodly shriek more horrible than anything the Homunculus had yet heard in his long life, a screech so violent and hate-filled that only a supreme effort of will would keep Pride from becoming utterly stunned. Whether this screech succeeded or not, the beast then immediately lunged at Pride and swiped at him with its hooked claws—claws that tore through the shadows surrounding his body like paper.

The two captives simply stood on the edge of the skiff, not intervening on Pride’s behalf. Partly this was because they were both unarmed, with not so much as a dagger between them; but the larger part of it was that they were resisting his efforts to control him through sheer force of will. They twitched and spasmed as they fought his shadows for control of their own flesh and blood, occasionally shooting hateful glances toward him.

“Rip… him… to… shreds,” one managed to force out between gritted teeth, the sheer strain of this simple act of defiance evident in every word.

edited 17th Aug '14 6:53:43 PM by SullenFrog

Fluttershy dared to look back into the chamber when the voice beckoned her within, seeing the unearthly, green form. Again, usually the pony would be bolting right out of the temple, but the ghost's presence felt calming......almost like......

The pony looked behind her again to check for anything sneaking up behind her before entering the room. "Yes," the pony answered, "but most of my friends as well. We decided to split into two groups, but something happened with the other group, and now I'm the.....only one.....here....." She trailed off after realizing just how pathetic sounding what she said was. She kicked the ground gently. "But we all came here because the city Riverrock is in the middle of an awful plague, and we found out the source is inside this temple. I would love to help you, but I have no experience with exorcising ghosts and stuff, but I can help any way I can once we take care of the plague!" she said honestly and earnestly.